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REVIEW HARPS OF THE ROYAL WELSH COLLEGE, ST DAVID’S HALL BY JAMES ELLIS

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

This St David’s Day is filled with worries. We’re in the post-pandemic timeline, with the worry of war also everywhere. My own thoughts on nationhood are usually compromised today and sometimes not feeling Welsh enough does enter my mind.

If only for an hour, the Harp Ensemble from the Royal Welsh College made everything okay, with a fine programme native to Wales and artists inspired by our country. Monika Stadler evokes the Preseli Skies in a light opener, the ladies of the ensemble warming up for this concert. It’s the interplay between each harp that was highly stimulating. You didn’t know where to look at times. Melodies abound in this fine little piece.

David Watkins’ Petite Suite was another sure fire delight, the Nocturne in the centre particularly noteworthy, the Fire Dance finale had some pleasant dynamics as well. In a more austere choice, one of Wales’ biggest 20th century composers: William Mathias and his Zodiac Trio made more of a chin stroking choice. Each movement is the Zodiac sign of the musicians who premiered the work (Pisces, Aries and Taurus) and Mathias isn’t afraid to try more experimental modes, even if it still feels quite conservative in nature. Flickers of Messiaen and serialism hit the ear, though the combination of harp, flute and viola might not sound as enjoyable as you would think. Through this, I still want to hear more of Mathias, who seemed to have a big impact on Welsh music.

Our host for the concert, tenor Rhydian Jenkins delivered three sublime Welsh songs. The delights of Mae Hiraeth yn y Môr and Llanrwst really made this special, Jenkins having a bright, easy voice with a little strain in the high bits (he mentioned how hard the latter song opens with some very high notes). Dafydd y Garreg Wen in an arrangement by Meinir Heulyn saw Jenkins sing with the return of all six harpists in another superb song which proves why we are known as the land of song. Wrapping things up with the Jig-a-Jig from Catrin Finch’s Celtic Concerto in an arenment by Jeff Howard. Having heard this before, Finch’s mastery over the harp is evoked in this pristine and sunny work, with it’s opening a tune worthy delight, never waining and always uplifting. Perhaps things wont be so bad after all?

Harps of the Royal Welsh College: Nia Evans, Cerys Rees, Jemima Small, Matilda Whates, Yasmin Richards & Bethany Coggon. Tenor, Rhydian Jenkins, flute Lila Bhattacherjee and viola, Michael Cilburn.

REVIEW Catch Me If You Can, New Theatre by Barbara Hughes-Moore

Starring the Man from Atlantis himself, the legendary Patrick Duffy, Catch Me If You Can is an intriguing thriller that will keep you guessing right up until the final moments.

While it might sound like a stage version of the Tom Hanks/Leonardo DiCaprio crime caper, the play is in fact an adaptation of Robert Thomas’ French thriller, Trap for a Lonely Man. This entertaining new production is produced by Bill Kenwright and adapted by Jack Weinstock and Willie Gilbert. The story follows Daniel Corban (Duffy), an ad exec who’s honeymooning in the Catskills when his newly-wedded wife goes missing. Fraught with worry, Corban enlists the help of his detective pal, Inspector Levine (Gray O’Brien), but his prayers are instead answered by the local priest (Ben Nealon), who brings the erstwhile Elizabeth (Linda Purl) home – only for Corban to denounce her as an impostor.

A triptych of performances make this a worthwhile trip to the theatre. Duffy won hearts as Bobby Ewing, Dallas’ favourite son, and here demonstrates impressive range as the frantic Corban, all shabby elegance and harried grace. He shares his most riveting moments with scene (and life) partner Purl (Happy Days, Homeland), who draws both sympathy and suspicion as the enigmatic Elizabeth. And O’ Brien, known to most as Corrie’s treacherous Tony Gordon, plays the wearied, washed-up detective with sardonic aplomb. There are excellent supporting turns by an on-form Nealon (Soldier Soldier) as well as Hugh Futcher, Paul Lavers, and Chloe Zeitounian.

Directed by Bob Tomson (Blood Brothers, Evita), the story is clever and engrossing and the cast’s lively performances make for a very involving whodunnit. The intriguing stakes are heightened by the ‘60s setting – modern enough to feel relatable, distant enough to ensure that the mystery can’t be solved through more convenient means like CCTV, smartphones and DNA evidence (still a nascent form of technology at this stage). Julie Godfrey’s palatial ski-lodge set traps the actors in a decadent cage, and the rising tension is punctuated by Matthew Bugg’s sound design and Chris Davey’s lighting.

While the pacing could be tighter in parts and the mix of comedy, drama and mystery takes a minute to commingle, it has all the ingredients that made Columbo and Murder She Wrote such a treat. There’s a reason they’re called ‘cosy mysteries’. While Bobby Ewing always tried to do the right thing, can the same can be said of Daniel Corban? Well, that’s for you to find out. With contemporaries like Mad Men’s Don Draper, it’s anybody’s guess. Fun, smart and engrossing, Catch Me If You Can is a ripping yarn with the kind of twists and turns you’ll want to unravel for yourself.

Catch Me If You Can is playing at the New Theatre Cardiff through to Saturday 5th March 2022.

Review by
Barbara Hughes-Moore

 
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Dance, science and digital collide in this new production by Jack Philp Dance.

With dates across Wales in Swansea, Cardiff and Bangor, this hour long evening of contemporary dance will take you on an abstract and athletic journey through the cutting-edge research of Professor Paola Borri. OPTO NANO was created with an exceptional cast of five performers and explores pioneering cell imaging techniques using microscopes and lasers. Using dance to bring biophysics to the stage, the choreography proudly champions collaboration from across different worlds in a dynamic burst of movement, light and colour. Powered by an electronic sound score from critically acclaimed Welsh composer R.SEILIOG, the work celebrates the arts and research that modern Wales has to offer.

https://youtu.be/X1dpIOeY6rc

Jack Philp Dance is lead by choreographer and director Jack Philp. A Wales based artist with a fascination for science and digital technology. Lead by the latest advancements in the world around us and driven by a love for the physical body, his work seeks to capture the wonder in those things through energetic, colourful and collaborative choreography. Jack has toured work with his independent collective as well as choreographed for companies and universities across the UK; presenting work on stage, film and for digital experiences. 

OPTO NANO tours Wales with dates in Swansea, Cardiff and Bangor from March – April 2022.

You can book your tickets here: https://www.jackphilpdance.co.uk/opto-nano-tour

3rd March: Swansea – Taliesin Arts Centre

19th March: Cardiff – Dance House

7th April: Bangor – Pontio

30th April: Cardiff – CULTVR LAB **immersive digital performance

Review Death on the Nile by Valerie Speed

 out of 5 stars (4.5 / 5)

In the midst of storm Dudley, a group of strangers take refuge from the calamity outside. Remaining hidden in the darkness of the cinema auditorium seems like the most sensible thing to do. Settle back and escape into the world of others. To a place that couldn’t contrast more with the climate we currently found ourselves in. Egypt.

Of course, it wasn’t just seeking shelter that took me to the cinema. I had been eagerly anticipating this new remake of Death on the Nile. Although, if I’m honest, having seen repeatedly the 1978 production starring Peter Ustinov as Hercule Poirot, (which I loved) I did wonder if I might get bored, convinced as I was that I knew the story so well that there would be no surprises. One review described this remake as a ‘dumb, lumbering adaptation…’. Not very promising. Yet, how wrong could I be.

Death on the Nile is one in a series of crime novels written by Agatha Christie, featuring her Belgian detective Hercule Poirot. Naturally, then we will expect a murder mystery; a simple set up of victim, a line up on suspects and to be taken through the means, motive, and opportunity to the conclusion of whodunnit. The plot remains the same. A young, wealthy newlywed, Linnet Ridgeway, is murdered while honeymooning in Egypt. She is surrounded by friends and family along with her new husband, each, we discover with some reason to kill. Add to this the arrival of her husband’s scorned betrothed, and the set up for murder to ensue is complete.

Director and star, Kenneth Branagh, it seems to me, had two problems to overcome for this film to work. The first, how can suspense and intrigue be maintained when Death on the Nile is such a well-known story. The second, when even his own creator, Agatha Christie, eventually described Hercule Poirot as a ‘detestable, bombastic, tiresome, ego-centric little creep’ how do you make the main character who will drive the narrative, likeable enough, not to be irksome, fully rounded enough not to be a stilted caricature, and risk losing the audience midway.

This remake begins, not in Egypt but in the trenches of the First World War, the commanding officer reading out the orders that have been received. The fate of the soldiers is sealed. Death hangs over each man. A young Poirot, though, suggests a brilliant but risky strategy. Hope rises once more. His plan is executed. I could hear the muffled gasps in the audience, a moment of tension. The outcome made me flinch with horror. Our first mini rollercoaster. So, the dye was cast, just as much as this vignette gave an insight into how Poirot evolved it made sure the audience understood that we were not going to be on firm ground. We had to be ready to feel uncomfortable at times and be caught off guard.

Fast forward and Poirot looks as he was described by Agatha Christie, enjoying the hospitality of a jazz club, and observing intently the lives of others play out. This is our first introduction to the main characters in this detective story.  Already there are tensions so when the same people congregate in the luxury of Egypt, we know something sinister is going to happen, we’re just not quite sure when.

Life for these people is lavish, sumptuous. These are the rich, surrounded by beauty, able to have anything they desire, and here they display a carefree decadence and gaiety. But in a moment, this can all too quickly be dampened with a sense of foreboding and trouble walks in. It’s dangerous to be complacent.

Deftly handled by Branagh, his sleight of hand, does solve those two problems. What is delivered is the suspense and drama you hope for from a murder mystery.

What those early added scenes do is create a feeling of being destabilised which is the pattern threading through the entire film.  The audience is moved moment to moment from a sense of doom, to calm and to a sense of horror. I, for example, came very quickly undone. Convinced as I was that I knew the killer from the off, as the jazz club scene played out, I became less convinced of this certainty until I was just as intrigued to find out what was going to unfold as if I was coming to the story anew.

As the film progresses, it feels to me that the timeline changes slightly from the earlier makes of this film. The characteristics, life stories and actions of a couple of the characters from previous films are subsumed into different characters. The effect is that you never have one of those moments when you’re able to say, ‘oh here it comes, I know what’s going to happen now’ because nothing maps exactly onto what has gone before.

The film is also beautifully shot. The cinematography is sublime, with glimpses of beautiful vistas of the Nile and the banks of the Nile. And yet, with all its beauty, the effect of seeing the boat, as big as it is, on which the characters reside being dwarfed by the vastness of the landscape adds as a metaphor for no longer being grounded or anything being certain. So easily life can be capsized. The small world in which the action is unfolding looks suddenly isolated and vulnerable, much as we begin to see the remaining potential victims with a killer on the loose.

There are moments when I and the rest of the audience gasp aloud. As you will know if you are familiar with Death on the Nile, or expect if you are not, there is more than one murder. Committed most shockingly. There is a grotesque reality about the way the bodies are seen stored in the most undignified of ways amongst the cold meats. But that is a reality of death in these most horrendous of circumstances. It is cruel.

Much is made of the idea of love in this film. Finding love, losing love. Seizing every opportunity to hold onto it when, living in an era of societal expectations, everything can be lost in a moment, and any survivor left forever heartbroken, no longer the person they were. In this lies motivation. If the audience already know the who, the means and the opportunity, then motivation can remain a seam to explore. The ongoing theme of life and loss, of how everything can be transitory is another way the audience is kept engaged.

There have been some reviews which have suggested Branagh is over dramatic in his portrayal of Poirot. For me though, I loved his portrayal. Of course, Poirot will have moments of melodrama – he’s ‘ego-centric’. Far from hiding his flaws, they are pointed out by one of the characters in the film, and fully acknowledged. With some regret, Poirot acknowledges he is not the man he wanted to be – he wanted to be a farmer – but the man he was turned into and remained as.

We do see a softer, more human side to Poirot. With the sultry, sassy, Salome Otterbourne, played by Sophie Okenedo, Poirot just might fall in love. It would be wonderful to think Branagh would consider a third Poirot film and for that story to unfold. Bringing to life the work of Agatha Christie for a whole new generation.

Review, The Ballard of Maria Marten, Eastern Angles, Wilton’s Music Hall, by Hannah Goslin

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

13 or 14 years ago, while studying Drama at school, I was introduced to the world of Melodrama and in particular, Maria Marten. We investigated the parallels between the real life story and its dramatisation for entertainment, performing the show ourselves for both audience and coursework purposes. So when I saw the press release for this, I was both excited and anxious to revisit a story which helped me continue my love of theatre.

The Ballard of Maria Marten is based on the true life events of Maria who, growing up poor, meets and falls in love with a series of fortunate men. Eventually, one of them turns out to be awful, physically and emotionally abusing her, leading to her death. Don’t worry, this is no spoiler – the famous story is known for it’s heroine’s unfortunate ending and a big reason it was taken for the stage. This version looks more at Maria’s side; her background, what she may have encountered, her growing smugness at the attention from rich men, desperately wanting love, when eventually, former failings at relationships leads her to be gaslit and abused. In her story, we also encounter other characters to build this back story, highlighting friendship, family, love and womanhood, motherhood and the difficulties of the era.

Eastern Angels have smartly moved away from the melodrama element. The closest we tend to get these days is the Pantomime, and so, while I would have been intrigued to see a modern day melodrama, this story is taken and performed sensitively and down to earth. It is mostly played straight, with the occasional joke or slight kooky characters, but you for sure believe in them. Once we get to know them and become part of their friendship, the end is all the more emotional and painful.

The performers are all women, and they choose to dress up for the first two suitors. This is effective and genuine and so as we see the relationships progress, it makes her heartbreak and abuse become even more dramatic. Her Father and her final suitor are not shown. While the Father isn’t seen as abusive, it highlights how out the picture he is to her and her life. Not giving the “villain” a face is also effective – Elizabeth Crarer, who plays Maria, uses great physicality, reactions and facial expressions to express his abusive nature and it makes it all the more frightening and disturbing, adding to her deterioration.

There is a huge element of girl power and girl friendships in this piece. My memory to some degree is hazy on both the story and the melodramatic version, but adding these characters makes the show more real. And they are all different as of any friendship group. The amazing thing about this version of the story is that we can relate, and with its reflection on events in the last couple of years. We can relate to a friendship group; of them growing up together and coming of age both together and as individuals. The elements of domestic abuse and murder also pick up on issues in the last few years; of potential home abuse increasing through Covid-19 and the sad death of Sarah Everard and others that have come to the surface. Media makes this shocking and tragic, as it really is but not something, sadly, new.

There is a lovely country feel to this production: in Wilton’s Music Hall, the perfect setting for a play set so long ago. The old furnishings and patchwork walls add to the idea of the countryside, with the wooden barn silhouette on stage – fits as if it has always been there. There is recorded music, music that feels very folk but often they will sing the ballards themselves, harmonising beautifully. Unfortunately sometimes the words were lost to the echo of the space which was a shame when it was so beautiful. They also make their own sounds of objects, babies, horses which adds a real sense of authenticity as opposed to recorded soundbites.

The Ballard of Maria Marten is reclaiming back her story. There are no villains in top hats and capes or over the top gestures as was originally meant by turning this sad true tale into a production, but all the gaps in between are filled in the story with this heartfelt, emotional and at times, funny retelling.

Review Andrei Kymach & Llŷr Williams, St David’s Hall by James Ellis

Photo Credit: Alexander Andryushchenko

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

Those pesky storms would keep me from Don Giovanni with Welsh National Opera the past weekend. Though for now I missed the damnation, Andrei Kymach gave up time from the show for a recital at St David’s. Cardiff Singer regulars will know he won back in 2019, a long time ago in the grander scheme of things.

We are living in heightened times. Ukrainian born Andrei offered up a fine conveyor belt of native songs. We need to hear things like this at the moment, with war feeling imminent after two dower years, we’d rather forget in all honesty. These patriotic and joyful songs bleed out of Andrei, a well versed repertoire he will undoubtedly be singing more of in the near future. The songs of Schevchenko, Scheli and Liybomyr would be banned by the Tsars and early Soviet leaders, only ganging resurgence more recently. It is the conviction that Andrei brings to every word of each song that affirms his command as a baritone, filled with gusto and pride.

There is a rock star feel to Andrei’s look, his hair and beard trimmed and cut for his turn as the wicked Don down the bay. A headbanger of another sort, Mussorgsky’s Songs and Dances of Death ended this fine recital with a chilling air throughout. Here the singers details four scenes of lives ending, as Death emerges to claim his reward each time. Things start off particularly dark, with the death of a baby. Other songs sees the battlefield, a man lost in the snow and a knight (disguised as Death) lulling a sick maiden.

It’s Mussorgsky’s rollicking, compositional nature that makes these songs shine. Andrei is brilliant in execution, truly on top form, wallowing in the ironic, morbid mirror that permeates each bar. Llŷr Williams as accompanist has also excelled, glowing as he plays and never taken over the limelight to much from his partner. A lone piano stool next to Llŷr was intended for a page-turner, none such was needed as he swiped at the sheets, creasing them in each time within their plastic folder. Some three encores would indulge this loving Cardiff audience, who has seen this superb singer grow and grow.

We hope we can find peace at this time. Music will always be the answer.

Don Giovanni continues at the Wales Millennium Centre till 17 March 2022, then on tour.

Review Ailey by Hanna Lyn Hughes

Ailey is about one of the most celebrated American choreographers of the 21st century, Alvin Ailey. Directed by Jamila Wignot, Ailey explores themes of memory and history by delving into significant chapters in Ailey’s life from his working class upbringing to his soaring choreographic success establishing New York based Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. 

The film starts with rehearsals for a brand new piece choreographed by Rennie Harris to mark the 60th anniversary of Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. We are then plunged into Ailey’s past via a mix of archive and present day footage. His story is narrated sensitively and lovingly through interviews by his colleagues and friends. The interviewees are wonderful storytellers and I was moved to tears by their love and compassion, particularly relating to the decline of Ailey’s mental and physical health. 

https://youtu.be/97jqfS3_8io

The structure of the film is a triumph. The way in which the film avoids a predictable chronological structure and seamlessly switches back and forth from past to present not only makes for an engaging cinematic experience but also reiterates the significance and importance of Ailey’s legacy. He refers to the ‘blood memory’ of his rural upbringing in Texas as inspiration for many pieces. I was particularly moved by the time worn recordings of African Americans attending the Baptist church, all in white, singing hymns in procession. This imagery overlaid by the sound of gospel singing is not only heart warming in itself, but it is beautifully contextualised by impressive performances of Wade in the Water from the infamous Revelations. This layering of performance and archive footage is key in exhibiting Ailey’s ingenuity in honouring and celebrating his African American heritage through art. The film superbly encapsulates Ailey’s uninhibited love for movement and creation as well as the sorrow and loneliness he must have felt at the height of his success. 

As a freelancer based in Wales, I did not expect the cinema to be the place where I’d feel the most excitement I’ve felt about watching dance in years! I thought I knew all I needed to know about Alvin Ailey but through the course of watching this documentary, I was educated, inspired and truly fell in love. I was taken by his story and his works and could relate so much to his impulse to create. He had something to say and people wanted to listen and I believe that is the basis of a great and successful choreographer. I left the cinema thinking to myself that whilst his time was cut tragically short, we are so lucky to be left in his enduring legacy. As Judith Jameson says in her last interview “Alvin breathed in and never breathed out and we are his breath out” I urge anybody who loves dance or has an interest in American history to watch this film, it is simply wonderful. 

Ailey is available to watch on several streaming platforms if not at your local cinema. 

You can find out more about Hanna and her work in this interview here

Review, The Night Larry Kramer Kissed Me, David Drake, New Wimbledon Theatre Studio by Hannah Goslin

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

In a little black box in Wimbledon, we encounter the coming of age LGBTQAI+ tale in 80’s America. Next door is a LGBTQAI+ club which I have been to before, and so having this show next door seems hugely apt and hopefully, educational to young people of the community who may walk past and be intrigued by the stand out poster.

The Night Larry Kramer Kissed me, written by David Drake, is a critically acclaimed off-broadway show. Based in 80’s America, we travel through one man’s self discovery in the gay community, awoken by Larry Kramer’s The Normal Heart, showing how Theatre can awaken someone’s passion but also make them question their very existence. John Bell’s (star of Outlander) character uncovers what many men of the LGBTQAI+ community discovered during that time – the impact of the AIDS/HIV pandemic and the fears, concerns, and lack of education around it during this time. It looks at his own discovery of the community and his sexuality, yet also on protesting, speaking out, love and loss.

Bell is in general just perfection. Each word, syllable and speech is perfect, diction and projection on point, and every part of the story he tells feels like it could be autobiographical. He addresses each of us in the room, not afraid to make eye contact, and with such a small theatre, this is important, making us feel included in his story; as if he is just recounting it for the first time with all its elements and emotions. Finding out that Bell is only 24 years old shocked me. I know him well from the show Outlander, where we practically see him grow up as it is, but the maturity and the earnest nature he brings to the character made him seem way beyond his years. While I was also not yet born during this time in history, Bell being much younger than me also shows how in depth he has clearly looked into the history and the impact it had on people of that time. He is genuinely heartbroken; genuinely enjoying life as he discovers who he is; and every aspect of him is fabulous and in keeping of the culture both of then and now. He also flips through ages – a time when he is just a little boy is mixed in with his first kiss as a teenager to finishing as a young-middle aged man. And each mark of his life is clear. A brilliant feat in itself for a performer.

The set was minimal but effective – big crossed metal pipes, stretching diagonally to the sides of the stage, later lit up, make us feel like we are in a city, with its harsh architecture. This is softened by many candles later, electronic, but effectively made to look as if they are really flicking. Subtly put in nooks and crannies are the historical coloured handkerchiefs, symbolising gay men’s position when it comes to interaction with each other, sex and love. A brilliant moment is when Bell is singing/rapping to a song as he discovers different men in a club, pulling out the handkerchief’s and describing each of them, climaxing to an outburst of fear at those who are HIV positive is poignant, fun and eventually heartbreaking. We hear much of the support given in the community and protest at the time, but little of how some turned their back at some point through fear and lack of education.

In a time where we are all fearful of a virus we at the start knew little about, there is some element of reflection on how the community must have felt at the time. However, an element of fun in put into this production, with scenes in clubs and gyms and meeting different people, lovers and how sometimes it culminated in the death of a person puts this on another level. To live life, only to die of it in the end.

Finally, a comment on the costuming – on point for the era, Bell evokes images of Freddie Mercury and the leather fashions of the community and of the 80’s. Eventually, with tee shirts of the AIDS/HIV support networks and protests at the end, this and the telling of this tale is a blast into the history of such a big part of this community and of history in general, something that even today still feels swept under the carpet.

The Night Larry Kramer Kissed me is such an important production to see, not only to learn a impactful part of history but also of a community that, in the 21st century is still facing hardships and censoring. Bell only makes this so much more poignant with his natural and excellent performance.

Review The Da Vinci Code, Theatr Clwyd By Donna Williams

 out of 5 stars (3 / 5)

Credit: Johan Persson

It’s a well-known fact (well, okay, not a fact exactly but often a popular opinion) that ‘the book is always better than the film.’ This is, of course, subjective, as some of us enjoy reading where others don’t, but in my experience, films tend to have to miss out a lot of detail from its written inspiration due to time, budget and varying other reasons. Unfortunately, this is how I felt about The Da Vinci Code. This is not to say I disliked the stage adaptation but that, for me, the book simply didn’t translate well to the stage. As a big fan of Dan Brown’s book, I felt a lot of the action and the detail was rushed, where the detail of the book’s plot, particularly the detail in the symbology, is what it should be all about.

As we enter the auditorium we are greeted with a projection of the Vitruvian Man, the drawing by Leonardo Da Vinci which depicts a man in two superimposed positions with his arms and legs apart and inscribed in a circle and square, representing his concept of the ideal human body proportions. It is a well-recognised piece by Da Vinci therefore immediately transports us to his world and, to those who are already aware of the plot, to the Louvre Museum in Paris. For those unaware of location, we also hear announcements in French telling us that the museum will be closing in a few minutes time, counting us down to the beginning of the play. There is also appropriately suspenseful music playing which unfortunately becomes annoyingly repetitive after about five minutes!

Credit: Johan Persson

The play begins with Robert Langdon (portrayed brilliantly by Nigel Harman, probably most well recognised for his role in Eastenders) giving a symbology lecture, with a nod to Walt Disney and the Mickey Mouse watch he always wears! We are immediately introduced to most of the ‘cast’ who almost act a Greek chorus, representing bit parts and scene changes, providing summary information, and highlighting important dialogue. All wear hooded tops which they don when part of the ‘cast’, when they’re not portraying a main character. This works well and provides clarity to the story, particularly for those who may not be familiar with it. The piece was excellently cast, and special mention must go to Hannah Rose Caton, who portrays Sophie Neveu beautifully. I am at first taken aback that she isn’t using a French accent but as the action ensues, it’s clear this makes no impact on the role itself. Kudos also to Andrew Lewis, understudy Leigh Teabing who steps into Danny John-Jules’ shoes seemingly last minute (there is no announcement or information in the programme to suggest any cast changes). Having looked forward to seeing Danny John-Jules in this role I am a little disappointed but Andrew Lewis’ portrayal of Teabing is perfect and akin to Sir Ian McKellen’s on screen version. It also appears we are another cast member down, meaning the roles of Sauniere and Remy are played by the same actor, Adam Morris (much to my excitement, having been a huge fan of CBBC’s Maid Marian and her Merry Men as a child!) Morris really steps up to the plate and plays both roles superbly, causing no confusion as to who’s who.

Credit: Johan Persson

The story travels from the Louvre Museum in Paris, to churches, Teabing’s estate, London, Edinburgh etc. so I am intrigued to see how this is going to translate to stage, the use of modern technology and stagecraft allowing for the audience to be transported from location to location seamlessly. The use of projections, easy-traveling set, a few simple props, and creative lighting design mean we clearly move from scene to scene and know where we are without hesitation. Projections are also used to show symbols and paintings and there is effort to home in on the details of these, particularly at Teabing’s home where we see a large projection of Da Vinci’s painting The Last Supper on the wall which is then zoomed in to highlight its supposed hidden meanings. However, I feel a lot of these moments, often huge revelations in the book and in the film, are somewhat rushed here (none more so than the secret revealed to ‘Princess’ Sophie at the end of the play). Where these moments could be lingered on, the action is packed in to two hours, which just isn’t enough time to appreciate the detail.

There are a lot of clever elements in this production which, with a less intricate story, could have worked successfully. However, I think lack of time, and location (allowed for on the big screen) mean that the detail and the atmosphere of the plot get lost somewhat. Nonetheless, a fantastic cast and certainly an enjoyable production, perhaps better enjoyed without the book lover’s expectations!

The Da Vinci Code continues its UK Tour on February 22nd at the Belgrade Theatre in Coventry and finishes on November 12th at The Alhambra Theatre in Bradford. Head to the website to book your tickets:

https://davincicodeonstage.com/

Theatr Clwyd, Mold
February 14th-February 19th, 2022

Cast
Robert Langdon: Nigel Harman
Vernet & Cast: Basienka Blake
Remy & Cast: Adam Morris
Sophie Neveu: Hannah Rose Caton
Sir Leigh Teabing: Andrew Lewis
Fache & Cast: Alpha Kargbo
Silas & Cast: Alasdair Buchan
Sauniere & Cast: Adam Morris
Collet & Cast: Leigh Lothian
Sister Sandrine, Marie & Cast: Debra Michaels

Production Team
Company Stage Manager: Roger Troup
Deputy Stage Manager: Ellie Southwell
Assistant Stage Manager: Mim Evison
Sound 1: Elliott Roberts
Video 1/Sound: Llyr Parri
Wardrobe Manager: Ivy Bridgwater-Court
Relighter: Samuel Baker
Production Carpenter: Chris Ashenden

Creative Team
Author: Dan Brown
Adapters: Rachel Wagstaff & Duncan Abel
Director: Luke Sheppard
Set & Costume Designer: David Woodhead
Video Designer: Andrzej Goulding
Lighting Designer: Lizzie Powell
Composition & Sound Design: Ben & Max Ringham
Musical Director: Chris Poon
Movement Director: Tom Jackson Greaves
Casting Director: Stuart Burt CDG
Associate Director: Leigh Toney
Production Manager: Digby Robinson
Costume Supervisor: Ester Mangas
Props Supervisor: Lizzie Frankl
Associate Props Supervisor: Zoe Wilson
Fight Director: Alison De Burgh

Running Time: 2 hours (including 20-minute interval)

REVIEW JAMAL ALIYEV & MAKSIM ŠTŠURA, ST DAVID’S HALL BY JAMES ELLIS

Jamal Aliyev Credit Kaupo Kikkas
Jamal Aliyev Credit Kaupo Kikkas

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

In a return to live events, the all ways reliable afternoon concerts at St David’s Hall would be my first venture out in this new year.

This first outing for me saw Azerbaijan born cellist Jamal Aliyev and Estonian accompanist Maksim Štšura. It annoyed me that the entire programme was completely changed (Chopin, Schumann and Martinů were billed), though a new show of tricks saw pieces I’ve never heard. Turkish inspired music began filled with experimentation and jazz. Though giving of a feeling of let’s try this and that, I found moments particularly enjoyable: the Henry Cowell like manipulations of the piano and perfumed cello lines were highlights.

An arrangement of Paganini’s Variation’s on a theme of Moses in Egypt takes snippets of Rossini’s really heard opera and shows off the violin, or the cello in this instance. Jamal really gets to prove his talents in this piece, the composer usually pushing the fundamentals of performing along with dynamics. No one takes on Paganini lightly, you feel Jamal has taken great care to bring this together in a showcase of both vim and intrigue.

Some slow tango vibes followed in Oblivion from Piazzolla. Pushing the genre to new heights, Piazzolla has the fortune of being accessible and experimental. Whilst this is not his most audacious piece, I found some joy in this brief outing, evocative of the tango genre it calls back to. Wrapping with up with a work by cellist composer David Popper also gave Jamal more chances to shine. He doesn’t really need to play anything special to prove his talents. Maksim on piano also being a highly watchable, refined pianist, who joins Jamal in this almost hour of fine music making.