If ever there was a more perfect introduction to the work of Steven Sondheim, it is Old Friends. Carefully arranged by Cameron Mackintosh, the evening is a complete triumph, the spirit of Broadway and of the man himself lies in every note.
If I’m very much mistaken, most if not all of his shows are crammed into this spectacle. All his retrospection, the machine gun lyrical delivery, the tender phrasing and punchy musical gustro all frequent his heaven sent show. You really can’t belive your luck when sat there and seeing this career which spanned decades go by, we only lost Steven not long ago and even his last musical has just opened in New York.
I’ve less love for Into the Woods, though here Bernadette Peters made for a hilaroius Red Riding Hood, aside the sexed up Mr Wolfman from a marvellous Bradley Maden. Much billing has gone to Peters and I can see why. It is her innocnet and infecious voice that reels you in, a delight upon closer inspection. I did hear perhaps a voice crack or two, though these were during the big, ballsy nunmbers, though I have no complaints. I love her. Lets not forget her Send in the Clowns and Losing My Mind as well!
Lea Salonga, most famous as Kim in Miss Saigon, also gets meaty ballads and rowdy numbers all over the place. Her passion got the audience in a state of rapture. The familar face of Bonnie Langford also impressed with strident vocals and good comic timing. Janie Dee might just be my favourite persona on the night, her Ladies Who Lunch a total highlight, The Boy From… another thrill with a few refrences to Wales, which got me in a whooping mood, perhaps I was the only Welsh in on the night?
Clare Burt and Christine Allado were in fabulous company, more treats along the way. Gavin Lee getting heaps of solos and duets with quick wit and vocally well paced. Jason Pennycooke coming into his own with the frantic song Broadway Baby from Follies, another triumph leaving me quite dizzy. Joanna Riding and Damian Humbley were even more joys in the cast, their many musical moments spread out over the evening. A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, his first musical as both composer and lyricist, got a piffy flutter though remains slightly overshadowed by what would follow.
Photo credit: Danny Kaan
Jeremy Secomb as Sweeny Todd faired well in the demands of the roll, perhaps the most operatic of Sondheim’s whole oeuvre. Time spent with Gypsy and Everything’s Coming Up Roses was affirmed and I am so glad they included it. Pickings from West Side Story and Dick Tracey also help up well, the later an Oscar winning turn. Merrily We Roll Along has found fame since its first flop, the title song of the show coming from his musical. Its remains the best moment in Merrily and used as an encore was perfection. Beyond catchy.
Sunday in the Park With George might be one of his best, used an a first act ender was finely poised. Company holds up, the Not Getting Married song was another outstanding corker Passion and The Mad Show I know less of and I note the lack of Assassins and Pacific Overtures too.
“When I first heard someone from Swansea speak, I thought they were singing to me.” That’s a great tagline for a play, when you see it you really want to know more.
Based on her own life, this was written by Lisa Zahra during lockdown, a time many of us spent reflecting on our lives. Born to a Welsh mother and an Iranian father, the Baba Joon (Dear Father) of the title. She grew up in Swansea and found it difficult to relate to her father’s heritage, despite the love she held for him, maybe because she was swamped by British culture.
Her father arrived in the 1970’s and at first he was enamoured by his new country, thinking it “the greatest country in the world”, but he gradually became disillusioned, by Britain, by his success, and perhaps he also felt the Iranian version of ‘hiraeth’. Lisa was torn, always trying to be a good daughter while fitting in with the local community, at one point even using makeup to appear whiter than she was. It is difficult to be a child of two worlds when both compete for your love, and in a culture where even dancing can be a rebellion, it’s hard to know the right steps.
There is poetry here, in the words and the rhythm of the languages, English, Welsh and Farsi. An influence of Dylan Thomas is unsurprising, and Zahra uses it to point out similarities between the Welsh and Iranian cultures, both famous for their poets, and she doesn’t stop there: Family, dance, music, even food, are all used evocatively. It’s been said that ‘food is memories’, because it brings back remembrance of such things as our childhoods.
The staging is like a 1990’s disco, with dry-ice fog, and an old portable TV set that is cleverly used to show switches between scenes in Iran and Wales. Zahra does not just focus on national differences, but also gender ones. Growing up in Wales she experienced racism, sexism and the double standards that come with being a daughter, and in Iran she found it the same, compounded by her being even more of a foreigner as she couldn’t speak the language fluently.
Voiceovers and music are used throughout, which I thought a flaw as I found it off putting sometimes. For me it broke the contact between actress and audience, which is so important in a show like this, and which she establishes so well. This minor quibble aside, I was enthralled by her semi-secret world, growing up in a Swansea where there were always eyes on her, British and Iranian, ready to criticise her every move. No wonder she felt relief at moving to Cardiff to study, finding the simple freedom of getting lost in a crowd. The scenes in the airport in Iran serve to highlight this.
I found the ending of the play annoying at first because there is no real end per se, no conclusion, and then I realised that this is by design. Life is messy, there are rarely easy solutions and not all questions are answered. We never find out why her father left his family, or why he left Britain, but perhaps that’s because she doesn’t know either.
I’ve always thought that good theatre should make you think, make you feel, or both. Lisa Zahra more than accomplishes that here. I was left with so many questions afterwards, and not just the clichéd ones, such as ‘who am I? Why am I here?’, but more difficult ones such as ‘where do I belong?’, or in the case of this play: ‘who are you, Baba?’ Thanks to Izzy Rabey’s excellent direction, the play moves at a good pace, and it sometimes feels like so much is coming at you in a short time, but then life itself is like that. In the end, it seemed to me to be about accepting who you are and being happy with it, and to Hell with anyone who says different. I don’t know about Iran, but that describes Swansea, Wales and I think Lisa herself in a nut-shell
“Why walk when you could tölt?” Victoria Melody’s beautiful, brave and bonkers show will inspire you to discover your own outlandish passions and accept yourself
“Headset” is an intricate and original piece of documentary theatre, combined with stand-up and live art that ignites your enthusiasm and lust for life with Victoria’s own rituals of self-discovery.
Following a successful run at last year’s Edinburgh Fringe, “Headset” has a 22-venue tour this Autumn across the UK. That in itself is a huge achievement, considering the challenging times for the small-scale theatre touring circuit and current funding cuts. Now in her 40s and originally from Chester (“I’m from a working-class family with Tory parents”, she jokes in an interview), Victoria graduated in Fine Art at Newcastle and developed a very unique path as theatre maker and performance artist. Melody is a powerful female voice in the stand-up circuit – blending documentary theatre and video and embedding in her work peculiar approaches in search for authenticity, connection with audiences and, ultimately, herself!
Dressed as a funeral director (the subject of one of her previous shows), Victoria starts the piece by talking about her work. “I make and perform theatre shows about Britain’s enthusiasts. I am passionate about other people’s passions”, she says. She works like an anthropologist, immersing herself into communities over three or four years and then makes a show about them; “Demographics of a Pigeon Fancier” (2009) is a study of the British pigeon fanciers racing season. “Northern Soul” (2012) explores the dancing style. “Major Tom” (2013) combines dog shows and beauty pageants, highlighting the absurdity and impact of conforming to beauty standards. “Hair Peace” (2015) delves into the ethics of the human hair industry, “Ugly Chief” (2017) emerges as a response to her father’s terminal illness misdiagnosis, using humour and heart to confront the taboo surrounding death. She points out that she fell out with her dad during the tour of “Ugly Chief” …so…she needed a big change…what was she going to do now?
The origin of the word “enthusiasm” comes from the Greek enthousiasmos: “divine inspiration, be inspired or possessed by a god, a goddess, be rapt, in ecstasy”. Victoria comes across “just like that” (as Tommy Cooper would say): a true Goddess in her own right – curious about people with the inventiveness to express her discoveries. She reminds us of extraordinary performance artist Bobby Baker, with her charm and quirky view of life.
Having worked as a video artist, Melody uses video the medium in an uncluttered and gentle way connecting the live action with images of her past, with quirky graphics to great comedic and plot development effect.
Tired of her theatre career she declares: “Enough was enough. I was tired of just being poor and feeling useless. Enough was enough. My life would fall apart if I didn’t change something…So f*** theatre. I’m going to become a well-paid, famous mortgage worthy stand-up comedian!”. We all laugh.
The piece follows trials and tribulations on her path to becoming a “mortgage worthy” stand-up comedian (she’s currently selling her boat by the way, she jokes). She reveals the inner works of the technique: “Set up, punch, exaggerations. Set up. Massive, giant punch. Rule of three. Set up, punch, punch, punch. Pull back and reveal…I was sh**”, she declares.
The teacher character plays an important role, representing “the establishment” as well as “her critical inner voice”. “How is this going to go down in Hull or Derby? the teacher challenges. Later, Victoria says: “Stop stereotyping nights out in different places”.
She recounts one of her first routines: “Icelandic horses are my favourite breed of horse. They’re small and hairy and best of all, they have five gears. Normal horses have four gears. They walk, they trot, they canter, and they gallop. Icelandic horses do all that and they also tölt. Tölt is Icelandic for “a gliding gait”. She then demonstrates. “Oh. Ow. It’s very uncomfortable on the crotch”. Then “This is a tölt. Wow. It’s so smooth. It’s like the horse is ice skating.” With her big, surprising eyes she delivers: “It doesn’t hurt the crotch at all. Why walk when you can tölt? That’s Iceland’s catch phrase”. Pause. Silence. Audience cracks up.
Victoria plays numerous characters besides the teacher: a funny “Hull Hoola Balloon” man, David Attenborough, (which, she jokes, comes out more like Margaret Thatcher), a barista, and others. The soundscape for the show is detailed and audios of her mum weave the narrative, describing how “little Vic” was as a child, in ballet, dropping keys in post boxes, and being herself – “I wouldn’t change it for the world. I think what you’ve got is very unique, but I wouldn’t even call it a problem. Vic, it’s not a problem, is it?”. With that question in mind, our heroine continues her quest.
The set has four chairs, a big plastic box, cables and props: a tambourine the teacher bangs when she disapproves of her behaviour, a beautifully crafted wheel with 5 masks that is spun to choose different personas”. She jokes “I shouldn’t use props, you see!”, as she gets tangled up in them and the microphone. She shares that her technical manager takes the mask wheel to the hotel as it won’t fit into the camper van, she sleeps in.
Melody encounters numerous challenges and as she experiences difficulties with words, visits a speech therapist and is diagnosed with ADHD. “Oh no!”, she thinks. “I’m Vic. I’m thick”, full of inner doubt, she feels incompetent and a failure.
In a previous interview, Melody has expressed her ADHD diagnosis as a profoundly liberating experience and that the show is a grand celebration of her newfound authenticity. “absolutely freeing…. This is my brain. I’m not masking anymore. This show is a big celebration of that…. And my performance on stage now is the best performance that I’ve ever been able to give”.
I dare to say that Melody has found her “clown’s intelligence”, as the great clown Angela de Castro would describe it. Clowns have their own intelligence, guided by their sense of curiosity, openness and naivety for the world. Melody exhibits all those clown-like qualities.
Even though she says the show is not “meta” (a stand-up show about stand-up), the piece is a reflection on the genre and plays with it expertly. At one point she jokes: “Are you going to do performance art now and alienate your audience?”, she says no…but she does. Melody is playing with the relationship with the real, with personal history, representation / non-representation and use of new technologies – aspects that performance art has always dealt with and that are embedded deeply in her practice as an artist.
Clowns fail, get up and do it again. And again. And again…never losing their enthusiasm. And so does Victoria. She decides to talk to a neuroscientist, her friend Silvana de Pirro. Melody starts wearing a portable electroencephalography headset that tracks her brain activity during her stand-up performances. Previous audiences found this hilarious, and we’re shown accompanying video footage.
Victoria continuously fails as a standup comedian and the show culminates with a magical scene where she is due to perform in an important stand-up gig, with headlining comedians and she appears on stage with a homemade Faraday cage and a laptop held close to her head. This is an amazing scene where time freezes, and our attention is totally focused on Victoria. She talks to “little Vic” again and again. It’s as if the actual headset device “dives” inside her feeling and emotions – the piece meets therapy, self-help in a light and playful way. “I’m Vic. I’m thick”. No more of that. It’s about acceptance. She looks at “Little Vic” and says, “I imagine little Vic, how desperate she was for someone to tell her that she wasn’t lazy or stupid or defective, that she wasn’t a baby.”
In a touching and insightful moment, she tells us: “I stopped measuring success using somebody else’s measure. Like I was a kid who just got comfort from putting jar labels, so they all face the same way and who got overwhelmed at injustice…”
She goes on to tell us with glee about her next passion and project: “I’m a musketeer in an English Civil War reenactment society”. We laugh and are genuinely curious about this new project.
Melody concludes the show with charm and eccentric flair… “and if you think of me as an Icelandic horse, then this all makes sense, because we should all get to choose the horse we want to be. Because I could walk off stage, but why walk when I could tölt?”
Beautiful, brave and bonkers “Headset” will inspire you to find your own outlandish passions and accept yourself.
Credits:
Director John Gordillo
Writer Victoria Melody
Set and costume designer David Curtis-Ring
Lighting designer Sean Phillips
Updated and restaged with Bryony Kimmings
Musical director and composer Tom Parkinson
Cast
Victoria Melody
Video appearances from Dr De Pirro and Mitch Mitchinson
“Headset”, 2023 Autumn Tour
03/10/23 – Chipping Norton, The Theatre
05/10/23 – Guildford, Yvonne Arnaud Theatre
06/10/23 – Birmingham, mac
07/10/23 – Harrogate Theatre
10/10/23 – Hexham, Queen’s Hall Arts Centre
11/10/23 – Kendal, Brewery Arts
12/10/23 – Leeds, The Old Woollen
13/10/23 – Barnsley, The Civic
17/10/23 – Norwich, The Garage
19/10/23 – Manchester, The Edge Theatre & Arts Centres
20/10/23 – Wolverhampton, Arena Theatre
24/10/23 – Brighton, Attenborough Centre for the Creative Arts
25/10/23 – Brighton, Attenborough Centre for the Creative Arts
30/10/23 – Cardiff, Chapter Arts Centre
31/10/23 – Bristol, Watershed
01/11/23 – Havant, The Spring Arts & Heritage Centre
It would be a fleeting affair in London to make sure I was celebrating with The Tallis Scholars. Something I did not want to miss. In the wonderful atmospheric Middle Temple Hall, known for its first recorded performance of Twelth Night, the evening went by in a flash.
Drink and canapes were flowing throughout, as things started off with Palestrina’s Magnificat Primi Toni and the eternal Misere by Allegri. The balcony space was utilised for both works, this opening gave you the feel for this choir, their mastery over polyphony and admiration of religious works. There was a marvellous vibe to proceedings, the audience blessed to hear such things. The latter was a highlight, with its serene high notes and it’s tennis match between both choirs in the space.
American writer Leon Wieseltier gave a fabulous speech about his first time hearing the Scholars. Passing the church in which they were singing, he fell in love with them all those years ago and has continued to give unwavering support to them ever since. His writing was highly eloquent and often funny. Caroline Trevor, wife to conductor Peter Phillips, also recounted many years with the choir as singer, leading later to romance. Their was a nice slab of gossip in this speech, personal insight which went down well, Peter beaming in the wings.
I’m glad there was a world premiere, this time from Nico Muhly and his A Glorious Creature. Taking Thomas Traherne’s words, a piercing perspective on the sun and its radiant light giving, Muhly has written a piece which didn’t excite me. It was a sort of strange slice after slice of the words, the singers each getting turns in the polyphony. It was pleasent, but left me a bit chilly.
John Tavener’s Song for Athene needs little introduction. Written as a perosnal tribute to a family friend, it would later be catapulted into fame with it’s usage at Lady Di’s funeral. Here the Scholars offered up a well sculpted and tender version, I found myself in bits. It was a special addition with Lady Tavener present, we lost Sir John some ten years ago. Arvo Pärt’s Virgencita ended this second set with more touching auroas and a reminder of his talents still going stong in his 9th decade.
James Jolly, Editor-in-Chief of Gramaphone also recounted good times with the Scholars, we were offered a tribute copy of the magazine with a history of the choir. Peter Phillips gave the final word, in a speech filled with pride, also acknowledging the pitfalls of the past and present taking them on international tours. We we given goody bags with the aforementioned magazine and Peter’s unexpected flutter into book form about the restaurant they frequent after reharsals.
It was all very inspiring seeing how much of a success they have been, 50 years is quite a long time really. Of course, things had to end with Tallis himself and we had three works: Loquebantur variis linguis, Suscipe quaeso and Gloria from Missa Puer natus. It couldn’t have ended on a finer note with their namesake composer that they have honoured countless times. These sweet pieces crowned the night, their affirming faith, their simple simplest registers and easy listening appeal had us leaving the event with much contentment.
In contrast to NTW, Theatr Genedlaethol Cymru goes from strength to strength. Rhinoceros is the latest in a series of shows and commissions to offer fresh, bold and imaginative theatre. In fact, Manon Steffan Ros’s adaptation of the classic text by Eugène Ionesco is the first Welsh-language production that feels not just national but international in scope. This, in spite of the fact that pop cultural references populate the dialogue.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FWOoJh-LP8w
I say this as a Welsh learner who had to sit and listen to the play without audio description or captions. A problem with the Sibrwd app meant that I was forced to engage with it on its own terms. It is testament to not only the actors but the whole creative team that I became immersed very quickly in this increasingly-apocalyptic world. Set in an unknown location in Wales, friends Bérenger (Rhodri Meilir) and Sian (Bethan Ellis Owen) are enjoying tea outside the local grocer’s shop when a rhinoceros runs in front of them across town. The small but effective skill of the actors to shake the furniture to create the vibrations of its movement is but one of several parts that make this a spellbinding watch. Everything from the placement and use of props to the physical manifestation of the creature within each of the characters makes Rhinoceros a captivating commentary on social conformity.
Bethan Ellis Owen perfectly embodies the absurdity that underscores the whole production. For in her transformation, we witness the destructive, dramatic and the ridiculous. Her hysterical movement and exaggerated speech causes laughter among the audience even as it contains a nervous quality that points to a more serious tone. For Meilir presents an increasingly distraught and tortured soul as he fights desperately against the change, from person to creature, that friends and colleagues succumb to. This is no linear tale however: horror is always punctuated with the comic; fairy dust is often laced with fatalism; and the funereal contains a certain cultural irony. It is a melting pot of genres and emotions, expertly crafted and directed by Steffan Donnelly and his team.
What ratchets up the drama and emotion of Rhinoceros is the absence of an interval. It allows the momentum to build to an epic proportion, making its conclusion all-the-more powerful and demanding. It is, at its best, a warning: do not allow the light to be infected by the dark. And this speaks not only to its distinctly Welsh culture but to a Western world in danger of doing just that.
The unassuming Ustinov Studio in Bath sees a season with acclaimed director Deborah Warner for what should prove to be a highlight of the theatre calendar. Tackling Sophie Treadwell’s blazing play, a guest appearance from another titan Richard Jones directs in his fashionable and sharp way.
Jones’ work I know best through his time with Welsh National Opera and English National Opera, the former’s Olivier winning take on Alban Berg’s Wozzeck fittingly mirrors Machinal. The Yellow Wallpaper of Charlotte Perkins Gilman permeates the space in Hyemi Shin’s angular and claustrophobic set. The hectic ensemble of actors plays multiple roles as commuters, workers, medical staff, drinkers in a bar and more. The energy here is affirming, Treadwell’s musical and punchy lines are tight and in moments are profoundly abstract and true.
Jones knows what he’s doing. Sat in the front row makes for an incredibly heightend encounter. The patter of conversations, arguments, clatter of dishes, screaming and a pounding bulldozer never quite leave your ears, sound design by Benjamin Grant wonderfully also adds to the absolute din of the whole thing. The futility of the whole thing, the sadness seen with this Young Woman who is bludgeoned by all, forced into a marrige she doesnt want, a child she can’t look after and a tragic decision leads to her execution. Loosley based on the real life story of Ruth Brown Snyder, who murdered her husband, begin was the first woman in the US to get the electric chair. One wonders just how many people now and in the past find solace in story, in the play the leading lady stutters, has panic attacks and other anxious bouts.
Rosie Sheehy has given an unforgettable performance in what is not an easy character in anyones eyes. Her spasms, tics, pounding, flinching all add to a well crafted offering. I found it hard not to hear Lois Griffin in her accent, the play capturing the spirt of New York frenzies. Tim Frances as Husband feels compasionate, if complicit in his misogyny, in well acted form. Buffy Davis is the despondent, Irish Mother, some great humour and maternal blathering. The Young Man, whom our lady has a passionate affiar with, is a lovely Pierro Niel-Mee. The character has some flippently racist remarks of the era (1920s), though this one night stand proves a toxic trait, if it saved our lady even just for a few hours. Pierro works as this sort of sexy saviour, chemistry between both actors faired well. Though his betrayal is all to much.
The troupe of actors mesh around the tight stage, accents strong and a well placed aura is in the air. I spoke of energy and their passion, this must be a cracking play to be part of. The framing of each part, sees an actor place a wooden relief of each scenes name to be hung above all, the shadow of which almost mimicking the wings of freedom our lady yearns for.
Machinal runs at the Ustinov Studio till 18th November 2023
There is a hunger to perform Wagner from amateur orchestras. Perhaps the demands asked from this problematic composer seem less daunting today, though command in vocals and a robust orchestra must simply give all.
Part of Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen, the remarkable four part, 15 hours behemoth, The Valkyrie is the second outing. This first act is the most intimate of the enquire Ring, with just three characters in an hour timeframe. The twins Siegmund and Sieglinde who were separated at birth, rediscover themself…with knowing romantic intentions. With the latter married to Hunding, this act sees the twins father Wotan loom over it’s entirety.
This is the only opera where the ring of power forged in the last part Das Rhinegold, is never seem and the actions of Wotan to secure his reclaiming of the ring again sets the story in motion. The lover twins leave Hunding in the night (who was already mortal enemies with Siegmund anyhow) pulling Wotan’s sword Nothung out of the massive tree in the centre of their lodgings as fate foretells.
I was impressed with the orchestra, filled with proclaiming Wagner Tubas, patient harps and pounding timpani. Sat in the front row, I also realised just how much orchestral weight there was to the celli, who get some ravishing moments in this opening act. The romantic feel towards the twins spreads over the musicians and they all get swept away in this strange love story. The swarm-like opening has the strings able and willing to muster up this piercing prelude, as Siegmund escapes the hunt from Hunding and his men in the forest. You can expect Wagner to be loud and the attractive church acoustic caught this thick sound to the roof.
Even with the sweeping amore, comes Wagner’s heavy later compositional style. Our three soloists did a grand job of keep the pace and the drama up for the duration. As Hunding, James Platt oozed into it the horrid nature of this villain. His bass was like a very fine honey, the snarling, vicious line tackled well and you could very easily see him on stage in the role.
Fiona Harrison-Wolfe made for a resplendent Sieglinde, though on a few occasions the orchestra drowned her out. Never an easy role, this being the only character in all three huge acts of Valkyrie, Sieglinde boats high register climaxes and more sincere, homely moments too. Fiona ventured well into this, also thanks to the support from tenor Gareth Dafydd Morris as the love interest. Gareth is a familiar face in Cardiff, this feels like a treat for him.
The declaratory and soaring vocals of Siegmund gave Gareth time to shine, the duet at the end with Fiona a highlight. Affirmed conductor Martin McHale had lots of rehearsal time with the players and it showed. Some brass and light woodwind fluffs may have been expected, due to the demands put upon them but it went along without a hitch.
Everybody’s Talking About Jamie (playing at the WMC until the 28th October) has had a meteoric success since the original documentary about 16 year old Jamie New (who wants to be a drag queen) was introduced to us on our TV screens in 2011. Since then, we’ve seen a musical, an award-winning world tour and a movie starring Richard E Grant and Sharon Horgan. Attending the opening night in Cardiff with my teenage daughter, I wondered if the setting of much of the play (in a typically grim British state school) would chime with her or potentially be shot down as a sad attempt by Millennials to capture Gen Z culture…never an easy line to tread!
It’s the kind of premise that would make a Daily Mail reader’s head explode. We have a gloriously camp 16 year old Jamie New who daydreams of stardom as the next big thing in the Drag scene. His accomplice, a Muslim, hijab-wearing Pritti Pasha (Talia Palamathanan) is his best friend and wing-woman. Supporting his bold and some might say outrageous career aspirations while maintaining her own moral and religious code, the friendship represents the kind of unity and integration that we all wish for. This is never too forced, or too jarring in its earnestness. Talia Palamathanan’s voice is absolutely sensational and her solo number ‘It means beautiful’ (by Dan Gillespie Sells) is stunningly delivered and I saw multiple folks around me wiping away the tears at the end of the number.
Huge credit for first-class character work and rapport with the audience must go to Shobna Gulati as Ray and stand-in Georgina Hagan (who was replacing Rebecca McKinnis as Jamie’s Mum Margaret New the night I attended). Georgina’s two solo tracks “If I met Myself Again” in Act 1 and “My Boy” in Act 2 were truly some of the best numbers in the show. Georgina’s vocals gave me goosebumps and although I’m not usually a fan of sequences with contemporary dance peppered into some scenes, Georgina’s emotional delivery took the whole scene to the next level. The dancers accompanying her were superb – it helped to tell the story and made Georgina’s incredible vocals even greater.
Some of the set-up for Jamie’s big reveal may remind you of Billy Elliott (young Northern lad overcomes toxic and stifling masculinity and a troubled father-Son relationship to follow his dreams, plucky ‘Diamond in the rough’ family members will rally around to support him when it really counts, etc etc). But this show, though perhaps formulaic in places, manages to simultaneously pack in a great story, outstanding choreography, quality songs and a great set. I wasn’t a huge fan of the visuals on the screens behind the stage set – it made the overall look and feel a little ‘commercial-like’ or trying to be like MTV or a swishy campaign when the action and performance on stage really is enough to carry the show…no glossy brand-like photography needed!
Hot on the heels of the incredible Layton Williams who played Jamie New in 2019 (and is now fox-trotting across our screens in BBC’s Strictly), is Ivano Turco. Ivano’s performance as Jamie is spectacular. Sometimes when you listen to the original soundtrack to popular musicals, it can feel like it’s not possible to improve on this ‘original recipe’ – and no disrespect to anyone on the original soundtrack but Ivano’s silky smooth voice is like honey. His approach to the songs is beautifully soulful and his relationship and interaction with Georgina Hagan as his Mum was lovely.
My daughter and I LOVED this show. We listened to all the songs again on the drive back home and we’ll be closely following Ivano’s career – he’s destined for a glittering future. This is a gloriously upbeat tale for modern times and it’s a dopamine booster. Highly recommend it!
Not many plays start with the actor already onstage, but this production of Carwyn makes you feel immersed from the very start as the audience is taken on a journey of a man that is sadly often forgotten, but he’s one worthy of being celebrated and remembered in Welsh culture.
The play begins and ends with the passing of Carwyn James but throughout the piece, the audience is hooked by the outstanding performance of Simon Nehan . Nehan tells a story of Carwyn reflecting on the good and bad of his life that is well worth knowing. We see two sides of Carwyn, one in which the whole world got to see, the way he felt how he had to be perceived on the outside, and the raw and real side of Carwyn, who spent his life hiding his true self from a brutal society as he was a man, simply living ahead of his time.
Showing both sides of Carwyn through the talented writing of Owen Thomas and the brilliant directing from Gareth John Bale, was something so impactful to watch as his eye-opening story is a story that is heartbreaking, relevant and necessary. I can say without hesitation that Carwyn the play is a production deserving of a standing ovation and if I was to watch it again, I know I would be moved and feel a little more impacted each time.
The Night Woman is directed and unapologetically performed by Julene Robinson. Embodying an electrifying, eloquent vibrancy expressed through dance, singing, live music and themes revolving around self-love, as well as the true essence of blackness navigating through life’s metaphysical journey, essentially as a black phenotype, inevitably encountering difficultly, challenging and disempowering experiences due to nuances, biases, prejudices, discrimination, lack of sovereignty and an identity crises due to a lack representation of dark pigmentation, coarse hair and society’s sensitive triggers to discomfort and negative conscious biases from foreign lands, within your own family and inner community.
Julene’s poetical and metaphorical expression of her exploration of darkness to discover inner beauty, magic, Godliness and purity, is mystical and impactful. Leaving you exploring the depths of the starry, moonlit sky using dazzling twinkling fairy lights and robes to represent tree branches, glowing in the low dim illuminance. This play speaks loud volumes of spirituality, trance and ancestral reconnection to reach places of true acceptance, embrace darkness no matter your linage or background, and to do so both internally and externally in every capacity, to avoid escapism of the fear of the unknown, due to colonial biases around darkness, distributing worldwide ignorances.
Watching Julene Robinson performing without an interval was a phenomenal experience, she’s not only an enchantingly performer who effortlessly takes audiences on a complex phenomena, but her use of characterisation in humorous and unapologetic ways to highlight the day in the life of Caribbean girls, born of a darker hue, living in the West Indies, and the general inadequacies faced by woman within the diaspora is magnifying.
The Night Woman, is an eye-opening fusion of loss, grief, femininity, unlearning to learn sequel; reflective stories told in an educative and playful way; with non-stop metaphors, depth and Jamaican humour all in one to re-live, restore, re-imagine and re-ignite all to come alive in the darkness by closing their eyes, whilst simultaneously appreciating dark skinned beauty by remembering darkness birthed light, and the gentle reminders of how life, including human life grows in the darkness where a God dwelled comfortably and humbly before colonial negative connotations of the word black and society’s conflicting interpretation, hatred and detest for darkness, dark matter and the night woman that birthed light lovingly.
Creating opportunities for a diverse range of people to experience and respond to sport, arts, culture and live events. / Lleisiau amrywiol o Gymru yn ymateb i'r celfyddydau a digwyddiadau byw
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