WATERS OF THE MOON

LADS at the Tractor Shed Latchingdon

07.05.08

original West End production starring Sybil Thorndike, Edith Evans and Wendy Hiller photo: Picture Post

The stalls glittering with evening dress, an all-star cast, a solid set and a well-made play. That's the world of 1950s theatre in which N C Hunter's great hit was conceived.

Out at the tractor shed, it was the set that came closest to the original – the hotel drawing room looked just like one of those photos you used to see in the acting editions. And there was an impressive scene change – twice – to the wintry garden. The pace was generally good, prompt permitting, and there were some effective groupings – the top of Act III, for instance.

Peter Jones's actors, following in the footsteps of Edith Evans and Penelope Keith, had mixed fortunes. Gill Bridle was excellent as Mrs White, combining a domineering manner, perfect diction and real pathos. The Austrian refugee, saddest of the resident dispossessed, was nicely portrayed by Robin Warnes, and Anita Collings had her moments as the slightly vulgar Mrs Ashworth.

The orphans from the storm who disturb the communal life of the hotel were an unlikely family, led by Pam Burton as the insensitive, flirtatious, worldly Helen Lancaster, playing with the hopes and fears of the sad emigré and the invalid Adonis [Daniel Beaver], encouraging them to dream of the waters of the moon.

ESSEX MUSICAL ASSOCIATION CONCERT

Chelmsford Cathedral

03.05.08

A Festival of Firsts for the centenarian EMA. Helping to fill the gap left by the Cathedral Festival, they abandoned Thaxted this year for the County Town, programming two major choral works for the first time. The choirs were Brentwood, Havering, Ingatestone and the Davenant Foundation, with support from Dovercourt.

Bruckner's Third Mass was the major work. Hundreds of singers, four soloists and the might of the Essex Symphony Orchestra combined to suggest the religious fervour of the piece. The brass at the end of the Gloria soon after the Qui Tollis sequence, the soloists in the Credo, especially baritone Ben Beurklian-Carter, added to the drama of this monumental setting. The choral singing was not always totally accurate, but the power of the voices carried the day.

Elgar's mighty Te Deum and Benedictus veer between the grandiose and the devout. The choirs, under the energetic direction of Keith Orrell, did not always sound comfortable with the music, but there were some wonderful moments, such as the blaze of Glory at the end of the Benedictus.

The instrumental interlude was provided by the young Hungarian

Tamas Balla, who played an enjoyable, if inauthentic, Marcello oboe concerto. But the real treat was his encore: five minutes of unaccompanied Bach. The perfect phrases rang around the Cathedral,

bone-dry Krug after Asti.

PETER NARDONE

Lunchtime at Chelmsford Cathedral

02.05.08

Back from his "short sabbatical", the Master of the Music played a recital of Bach and the British to a large and appreciative audience.

The major work was the Toccata and Fugue in F major [BWV 540]. It was a performance of strength and clarity, the rippling sinews of the Toccata sharply defined.

After the Chorale Prelude BWV 654, Delius's slightly soporific First Cuckoo, then, with string tones replacing the pastoral woodwind, Elgar's charming Salut d'Amour, and to close, the same composer's mighty Allegro Maestoso from the opus 28 Organ Sonata.

Peter Nardone dedicated his recital to Dr Mary Berry, the musicologist and conductor, who died the day before, Ascension Day.

He recalled their last collaboration, a CD of Machaut recorded, not without difficulty, in the composer's own cathedral at Reims.

THE MEMORY OF WATER

Theatre at Baddow

30.04.08

Shelagh Stephenson's first play has three sisters gathering in the family home on the eve of their mother's funeral. There is little love lost between them. They bicker, swig whisky, share recriminations and the odd reefer.

In Joe Kennedy's emotional production, the laughs and the depths were given equal weight, though I felt that a more oppressive set might have helped to situate these characters more securely. The ending was very moving, and the drug-fuelled dressing-up which ends Act One was equally effective.

Emma Moriaty was very touching as the doctor who must learn to love the cold, Caroline Wright was entirely believable as the sulky, garrulous youngster, vulnerable and insecure. Domineering Teresa was stylishly played by Lorraine Ely, increasingly unsteady on her feet as her life, too, unravels before our eyes.

Alan Ireland was the good-natured Frank, and Roger Saddington did a good job with the sketchily-written TV doctor, timing his laughs and delivering the water memory nonsense with real feeling.

Their late mother, remembering toffees from Torquay and watching the encroaching sea, was Jean Speller, who brought out the poetry of the part. She was especially moving as she tried to explain what Alzheimer's is like from the inside.

The opening night performance was secure and confident, despite a well-aimed jar of cold cream, and a front row with two critics, a chap in shorts who was helpless with laughter, and two elderly ladies who kept up an all-too-audible commentary on the show. As they said, “a weird story”.

KATHRYN TICKELL BAND

at the Civic Theatre

29.04.08

This two-hour, no-nonsense set was packed with good tunes played with affection and enthusiasm.

It was a friendly, family affair. Joining Kathryn on stage was her young brother Peter, composer and fiddle-player, and her father's influence was often mentioned. The first of a sequence of waltzes, for instance, was written by the pair of them for the old man's birthday, and it was her dad who persuaded her to write Our Kate, for the millionaire writer and philanthropist Catherine Cookson. It was a plaintive piece, gentle and strong.

Peter Man was written for her brother – a hard, fast duet for fiddles. Another enjoyable fiddle sequence started with Ossian's St Kilda Wedding, and included Snowy Monday and Rocket Dog, Kathryn's tribute to her energetic Fluffy.

Tricky, rhythmic reels, a number for the New Crossing [Gateshead's Millennium Bridge], and, by request, Rothbury Hills, with the Northumbrian pipes accompanied by Julian Sutton's melodeon.

There were a couple of numbers from “Instrumental”, her 2007 album, but we had to wait till the encore to hear any vocals – a County Durham miners' song, with Kathryn joined by guitarist Joss Clapp.

A happy, upbeat gig, but, to my taste, too brashly loud. Not for the first time I am wondering at what point it is felt that four traditional acoustic instruments need stadium amplification, monitors and stacks of reverb. This is music born in rooms behind pubs, after all. Is it because the punters want the sound from the CD ? Or because balance is thought more important than immediacy ?

It's not just folk - I've had the same misgivings listening to Indian classical in the Cramphorn.

What next - the Maggini wired up like Bond ?