MERRILY ON HIGH!

MERRILY ON HIGH!

Chelmsford Singers at the Cathedral

19.12.15

David Willcocks, doyen of choral Christmas, who died in September at the age of 95, was well represented in this upbeat selection box for choir, audience and brass.

Ding Dong ! Merrily on High, with decorative organ filigree from Laurence Lyndon-Jones, O Come All Ye Faithful, God Rest You Merry Gentlemen, and a rousing Hark the Herald to start, with fanfare from the excellent Westminster Brass. We were treated to four instrumental pieces from them, including a jolly Sussex Carol, two sleigh rides from East and West, and a Christmas Cracker which turned out to be more of a garland, a string of carols from Realms of Glory to Wenceslas.

The choral highlight was Cecilia McDowall's brand new Cantata for Christmas, A Winter's Night. An inventive sequence of five English, German and French carols linked by instrumental bridges from brass quintet, percussion and organ, given an impressive, joyous performance by the Singers. The quintet also featured in Rutti's Three Carols; the Presto climax a rhythmically exciting Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day.

Plenty of opportunity for us to match our lung power against the might of brass and organ, including a lighter Willcocks arrangement of Jingle Bells. Musical Director James Davy, sporting a festive scarlet bow tie, confessed to blowing the entire budget for this Christmas Concert on the band, imploring us to jingle our car keys in lieu of Sleigh Bells ...

THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL

THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL
Sadlers Wells at the Lilian Baylis Studio
15.12.2015
for The Reviews Hub

Hard to pigeon-hole Arthur Pita's Little Match Girl. “Dance Theatre”, officially, but this unique entertainment embraces so many genres and influences, in a very satisfying hour on the stage.
It has a distinctly European feel – though Hans Christian Andersen's Denmark seems a long way from the fictional Italian town where the Pita sets the action.
As we file in, Frank Moon is already on stage, giving a foretaste of the live music which is such an important part of the show. Mandolin, violin, beatbox and much else besides, including a high-profile solo for the ethereal voice of the theremin. Echoes perhaps of Fellini and his house composer Nino Rota.
Just four dancing, singing actors take on all of the roles – and what splendidly drawn roles they are; some traditional, like Nonna Luna, the ghost of Fiammetta's grandmother, some less so, like Hank the Astronaut, whose LEM the matchgirl helpfully ignites for his return to earth. Audience favourites are the grotesque Donnarumma family, Fulvio and the two “ugly sisters”, who callously celebrate their Christmas while the starving girl watches their shadows on the window-blinds.
There are many such marvellous moments – the town's lights extinguished as Fiammetta knocks on each door, the bullying match boys, her competitors, their fistfuls of tapers (think Struwwelpeter) making menacing music of their own, grandmother's gravestone, the stepladder to the moon – a huge disc which turns at the scene change to reveal the earth seen from space. And, at the end, while on earth life has moved on, and lighters have replaced matches, in the heavens the Little Match Girl is lighting the stars …
Superb performances all round, with impressive quick changes of character and costume. Angelo Smimmo is Nonna Luna, whose Mai Più Freddo, Mai Più Pianti lullaby is a musical highlight, as well as Fulvio, the Donnarumma father. Valentina Golfieri and Karl Fagerlund Brekke are the OTT daughter and mother, as well as the match boys. Brekke is also the kindly lamplighter – a nicely imagined duet with his pole. In the title role, Corey Annand exactly captures the weary pathos of the dying girl – some beautiful solos as she tries to sell her wares, with tentative leaps and twirls. A gentle pas-de-deux on the Sea of Tranquillity with her astronaut (Brekke again). Even at the end, when she finds happiness at last, her joy seems tempered by shyness. A wonderfully compelling characterization, frail, waif-like and totally convincing as the little girl lost in a cruel world.
This is pure Christmas magic, with a strong moral message, and deserves to become as much a traditional part of children's festive entertainment as The Nutcracker or The Snowman.

THE TINDERBOX

THE TINDERBOX
at the Charing Cross Theatre

15.12.2015

for The Reviews Hub




Above our heads, trains rumble to the southern suburbs. And on the compact Charing Cross stage, beyond the footlights, giant untitled tomes, which double inventively as doors and windows, with more books, pop-up this time, for the tree-tops.
Mandy Holliday's take on The Tinderbox is some distance removed from Hans Christian Andersen, though we do have the three dogs, and the cast, in narrator mode, sport seasonal Scandi pullis. 
Chief delight of the 70-minute production is the use of music – all carefully listed in the glossy programme, which also has the complete story for bedtimes yet to come. Against full orchestral backing tracks, the cast – some excellent voices here – sing new words in an unashamedly operatic style. A Valkyrie Mabel, Mozart's Horn Concerto, a Strauss trio, and, for the young lovers, a wonderful vocal pas-de-deux from The Sleeping Beauty. As they step forward to the footlights, there's a moment of pure Victorian romance, easily recognizable by the theatre-goers who first sought entertainment under the arches in the 1850s.
This production – directed by Abbi Pickard Price, with choreography by Lily Hone – is full of fun, with plenty of pantomime-style interaction: He's behind you !  Oh no you're not … There's a cracked mirror, a magic apron, a chain of paper men for the chorus. The little tinder box itself is magically transported all over the stage, the attractions of the big city - “OPERA”, “BALLET”, “SHOPPING” - appear in lights on the spines of the books. And, more randomly, a yoyo and a rubber chicken.
Mandy Holliday herself plays the Old Witch, with her tiny cauldron, plus Harry the Hound and the Wicked Queen. Samuel J Weir is Brian the Brave, dashing hero, flirting with the audience and generously sharing his gold coins. His Princess is Bridget Costello, and the Gold Dog is Ceris Hine. Everyone works hard to people the story – though we never meet Prince Wobblebottom from the Kingdom of Chaos; there are charming puppets, too, a minimalist horse, a slender ballerina, and the dogs are cleverly imagined.
The transformation is brilliantly if simply done; elsewhere the magic is spread a little thin. But young theatre-goers – too tiny perhaps for a full-blown panto – will appreciate the shouting and the silliness, whilst for the mums, grand-parents and au pairs, there's some lovely singing to proper classical tunes, and a vague memory of a fairy tale from childhood.

SWEENEY TODD

SWEENEY TODD

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court

16.12.15

Sondheim's Sweeney ? At the Old Court ? Mine certainly not the only eyebrow raised when the listing appeared.

But the production – CTW's first full musical for many a year – has proved a resounding success both financially and artistically.

Catherine Bailey's take on the show is necessarily spare and intimate. Exactly the way Christopher Bond's drama was done when it first caught Sondheim's eye. We enter past the harmonium and the man-size meat grinder waiting in the wings. The set – built in the auditorium to accommodate the notorious salon above the pie shop – is a grim Dickensian façade, with ghostly dustsheets above. The action begins with a sombre procession, before Toby draws us in to the story.

A damaged child, huddled in a strait-jacket. Tobias Ragg is often a young boy in the melodrama, much less often in the musical, since for him, as for all the principals, the writing is a real challenge. Charlie Borg makes an excellent job of it – comedy and tragedy alike: his last appearance, hollow-eyed and grey-haired, sets the tone for the emotional finale.

No surprise to see the excellent David Slater nail the title role, a riveting performance which makes the character human in his deranged passion, and effortlessly navigates Sondheim's melodic lines. But a revelation to hear CTW regulars revealed as fine vocalists: Dave Hawkes as the “abominable judge”, Chris Edwards as the revolting Beadle. And Debbie Miles as a memorable Mrs Lovett, holding her own with Slater in the duets, with excellent comic timing as well as hidden depths in, say, Nothing's Going To Harm You. By The Sea is superb, with a grumpy Todd and a fetching pair of bathing belles.

Tom Tull's fine voice as Antony, blends operatically with Jade Flack's tragic Johanna. No operatic fireworks from Harry Sabbarton's Pirelli, alas, but a sprechgesang approach which works surprisingly well.

The chorus copes superbly with the challenges of the score – good to see figures slumped at the end of the alley, and the constant presence of the heap of rags concealing Marie McNulty's beggarwoman. Though more sensitive, oblique lighting might help her melt into the shadows. The uplighting for the barber shop is very effective, however.

I've seen many Sweeneys but the powerful intimacy of this version is something special. And, at the end, after the bloodbath and the curtain call, the Stage Manager rushes on to wipe the gore from the Fleet Street floor lest the Demon Barber claim another victim ...

CHRISTMAS GOTHIC

CHRISTMAS GOTHIC

Dyad Productions at the Cramphorn Theatre

14.12.15

Three seasonal stories, all set upon Christmas Eve. Told by Rebecca Vaughan, severely dressed like a Victorian governess, in the customary setting of club armchair and candelabra.

Vaughan herself provides an atmospheric prologue and epilogue, evoking those ghosts of Christmases past, haunting the darkness and the silence of a winter's night; a candle is snuffed out as each story ends.

The first is Bone to His Bone, by E G Swain. In which a clergyman, plagued by insomnia, is prompted by a quarto Compleat Gard'ner to venture into the vicarage garden.

Then The Phantom Coach by Amelia Edwards [Vaughan's Female Gothic chilled us at this same address a couple of years ago]. A traveller, stranded on snow-covered moors, meets an old man with a lantern, and his reclusive polymath master, before taking the lonely road to head off the night mail.

A hot December, but no less chilling in E F Benson's The Step, set in colonial Alexandria. Heartless Jack Cresswell is pursued by his guilty fears, seeking sanctuary at last among the cowled Brothers of Poverty.

All beautifully acted, without undue histrionics but with credible characterizations and a myriad subtle movements and gestures, directed by Elton Townend Jones. The mood is considerably enhanced by lighting – candle, firelight, moonlit garden – and Danny Bright's sound design.