KIT AND THE WIDOW

Mercury Colchester

16.01.09

What a tonic for our recessionary times.

Those corporate cabaret kings, jesters to the gentry, brought their 100 Not Out show to the Mercury.

Apart from a lone engineering student, foolish enough to sit in the middle of the front row, we were a mature crowd, helpless with laughter at those close-to-home targets – White Van Man, Delia and Nigella, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Mandelson, the politically incorrect Romany Caprice [The Gypsy in Me], and, in an outrageous encore, the Picker-Up. This last enjoyed, apparently, by the Duchess of Cornwall.

Kit's brilliant way with words was put to more serious use in the touching song he wrote for his daughter, which I remember from their gig at Chelmsford Cathedral a few years ago, and in a number new to me, Cabaret.

But the moments which will stick longest in the memory are Marcia from Matching Green turning over for the Widow in Der Erlkönig, the Flight of the Bumblebee performed by the Widow with a bag over his head and Kit, on the fiddle, with a net curtain over his head like a real apiarist, and of course their signature dish, the Punjabi Puccini Chicken Korma Nessun Dorma, with the Mercury masses singing happily along.

Janet Banks and Caroline Findlay

Lunchtime at the Cathedral

16.01.09

Paul Bazelaire's Suite Française was the discovery in this recital of Romantic music for cello and piano. Bazelaire was a cellist a hundred years ago, and made this arrangements of folk dances from all over France for his own repertoire. The Chanson d'Alsace, and the charming Berceuse were highlights for me. The Bazelaire was followed by Fauré, Après un Rêve, and in a lively finale. Dvorak's own arrangement of the Slavonic Dance in G minor.

Caroline played a reflective Rachmaninov Prelude as the centrepiece of the programme, which started with a Mendelssohn Song Without Words. Beethoven's Variations on a theme from [Handel's] Judas Macabbeus, splendidly presented by this duo, were a reminder of the earlier repertoire, from the days when the cello was not even a proper solo instrument !

Caroline and Janet are familiar faces at the Cathedral's lunchtime sessions; we hope to welcome them back in future seasons.

KAY USHER AT THE CRAMPHORN

Lunchtime concert

14.01.09

I'm always pleased when I'm free on a Wednesday lunchtime. Last week I joined the enthusiastic audience in the Cramphorn for one of Jeffery Wilson's musical matinees, this time featuring the beguiling violin of Kay Usher.

Ellington was prominent amongst the composers, kicking off with I'm Beginning to See the Light, played with a fairly straight bat by Kay, with some austere piano riffs from Jeffery and bass perambulations from Eddie Johnson.

In Sentimental Mood – could have been the title of the concert – Don't Get Around Much Anymore were two other standards from the Duke. The Gershwins were there, too, with a lovely “lounge” reading of The Man I Love, and Lady Be Good, to send us out with a smile.

Exactly Like You, the old Dorothy Fields number, began with a teasing cadenza from the violin, and there was a witty piano contribution too. The Bill Evans trio was recalled by the bass player, before he played a neat jazz waltz as his party piece.

“I pity the young,” Mr Wilson remarked. In particular, I think, since they will struggle to recall “our song” when they reach their twilight years. His, apparently, is Girl from Nicaragua [or something], which he played on sax during his honeymoon, and lovingly embellished on piano for us.

DICK TURPIN

York Theatre Royal

The more pantos I see, the more I'm convinced that the Dame is the touchstone. Among my favourites: Cyril Fletcher, often with his other half Betty Astell, and the legendary Jack Tripp, once described by the Stage as "the John Gielgud of pantomime dames", lured out of retirement by Roy Hudd. Both had the confidence and absolute belief in the genre and their unique role in it.

The same could surely be said for Berwick Kaler, who's been climbing into the seasonal skirts for 30 years at York's lovely old Theatre Royal.

This year he was Betty in his own take on the Dick Turpin tale. “Me babbies, me bairns ....” he beamed in greeting to the capacity crowd. And we were off through a nostalgic panto trip through ancient jokes [“Have you got the scrolls ...?”] and time-honoured routines – the messy scene, with the plunge pool and the dough-based recipe, the sing-along, the UV sequence, the filmed insert. No smut, no soap stars, no desperate up-dating. Though we did have a Woolies joke, and the Congestion Charge featured in the London cloth, together with a half-timbered Houses of Parliament and wooden Eye.

Cultural references, some too local for my Southern ear, came thick and fast. Alma Cogan, Housewives' Choice, Ready Steady Cook, Eurovision. No dumbing down here. I particularly enjoyed the drag Abba act, the flames in Goth York City, the Old York, Old York, number, sung in six languages, with a trumpet obbligato from a hard-working pit player who also played sax !

Kaler, brilliant in all his scenes, with countless quick-changes and wide eloquent eyes, was joined by regular partners in crime David Leonard, thwarted again as Vermin de Vile, and Martin Barrass as the dopey sidekick. And the Waggon Wheel for the biggest gob in the house was won that Thursday by Morgan in the stalls.

DICK WHITTINGTON

Colchester Mercury

What better way to start a new year of theatre-going than the Mercury's marvellous pantomime ? Janice Dunn's Dick Whittington and the Pi-rats of the Caribbean is the latest in a long tradition of home-grown Christmas shows, and had all their strengths in spades.

The credit crunch was duly mentioned, but there was no hint of recession about this spectacular show. The bright, witty design had moving bells stage right, and a revolving dais for Roger Delves-Broughton's King Rat. A slightly malevolent moggy stares down from the top of the arch.

Dick's London has the Gherkin as well as his galleon. There are cute kids, and even two chorus boys in the Lionel Blair tradition.

Though this Whittington never gets to be Lord Mayor, preferring a life of lotus eating on his tropical island, tradition is not lost – we get to sing the silly song, there's a ghost routine as enthusiastic as any I've seen. Youngsters hurl a hail of foam balls at the baddies, there's a host of quick cultural references, and a never-ending stream of ancient panto jokes, delivered with genuine relish by Tim Treslove's superb Sarah the Cook.

Butch, busty and cheeky, he engaged all sectors of the audience with consummate ease. Other Mercury rep regulars were Christine Absalom as Fitzie, and a hard-working pair of merchant bankers from Ignatius Anthony and David Tarkenter. Clare Humphreys was a real London Bow Bells – a fairy in the Donna Noble mould.

The principal boy did slap a thigh, but was played by a likeable Ian Kendall – his Alice was excellently sung by Roxanne Saili. Tommy the Seoul cat was a dapper Jay Lim, quick-witted and physical.

In the pit, Graham Du-Fresne seemed really happy to be guiding band and players through all sorts of music from Lionel Bart to last year's charts.

Ian Kendall (Dick Whittington) and Jay Lim (Tommy cat) Photo: Robert Day