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FOUND111 is a new, temporary space in the heart of London which has transformed into a New York apartment for the UK Premiere of Richard Greenberg's play about love and the perils of intellect. David Dawson plays Homer Collyer, a man whose sole purpose appears to be to support his ultra-intellectual and musical brother Langley, played magnificently by Andrew Scott. Complete with alibis in the form of opera plots and complaints that instruments are a 64th tone flat, this pair are the height of eccentricity. Ben Stone's intimate and cluttered design shows a world of disorder which brushes off love interest Milly Ashmore (Joanna Vanderham) and the convention she brings with her. Vanderham's American accent feels a tad inconsistent but is only jarring for the first few minutes until you are taken into her intense and sad performance as a woman whose order threatens the life of Scott's Langley. A poignant and moving second act is finished with the perfect final image that finishes a beautiful production in an exciting space.
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From Greeks to Europeans, Rupert Goold now has a season of Ibsen and Chekhov, first being Richard Eyre's staging of his own adaptation of Henrik Ibsen's Little Eyolf. The work of Ibsen and Chekhov often inspire the same dread as with Greek drama. The focus on the bourgeoisie and the flowery language makes it difficult for me to find an in to the drama. Eyre's adaptation, however, is far easier to relate with all the flowers pruned and a three act play being condensed into an 80 minute roller coaster of tragedy. Tim Hatley's pristine and pretty set of a wooden veranda with a mountain backdrop lulls you into a false sense of security before being ripped apart by the brutality of Eileen Walsh's rat woman who induces death and destruction on this wealthy family. The cool and settling nature of the Scandinavian sounds and fjords are given a more brutal and harsh characteristic by Ibsen and Eyre and Jon Driscoll's videos bring this out. The whole play and production is full of deception deceit and finding new meaning, with the innocence of childhood and the relationship between siblings being challenged. Jolyon Coy is wonderful as Alfred, whose revelation to focus attention on Eyolf starts a competition between the child and Lydia Leonard's superbly portrayed Rita, whose sexual desires create hatred and distrust. This is a brutal and raw production of Ibsen at his best.
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Mia Chung's play is not a Royal Court play. If you go to the upstairs space at the theatre for a metaphorical sledgehammer to the head. They are punchy and to the point holding nothing back. You for Me for You in comparison is a subtle and reserved play, perhaps due to its prior American productions. Despite these differences, however, it is just as powerful and moving as other more blunt productions in the vibrant upstairs space. The play examines the differences and similarities between America and North Korea through the lens of two sisters separated trying to escape the best country in the world. One particularly strong moment for me was the pressure to stand for the national anthem showing that, whilst America is clearly more free than North Korea, similar intimidation and conformity is used in both states and is made especially relevant after the outrage of Corbyn's 'refusal' to sing our national anthem. It deals with the frightening language barrier for immigrants with Daisy Haggard's various American character's speaking things that sound meaningless but taking more meaning on over time as Katie Leung's Junhee learns more of the language. The absurdism of Wendy Kweh's Minhee's journey across North Korea to find her son is harder to get your head around and I still don't quite understand the point being made by Chung here. Richard Twyman's production show these two countrie's obsession with style and facades, with a beautiful design from Jon Bausor hiding the grim and dark reality of both countries. Performances are strong across the board although none stand out as truly great. I still don't quite understand Chung's message in this play but there is still plenty to get from it even without knowing this.
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Here We Go has attracted many negative reviews mainly due to it's final scene which is approximately 20 minutes of a man being dressed and undressed. It's true that this scene is excruciatingly painful and torture to watch. But that is sort of the point. Here we go, is a 45 minute examination of death. The first scene looks at people commenting on a man's life at a funeral, with interjections on their own death which highlights everyone's mortality. The second scene shows a dead man contemplating on which afterlife he wants, with the exiting imagery conjured directly contrasting with the painful final scene which shows the mundanity and pain before death. Churchill doesn't explain death here or even tread new ground on the subject. Instead, she plays with form by fragmenting familiar situations so that they are faux-natural, creating an upsetting and moving art installation. Dominic Cooke's production is minimalist and as fragmented as the form which demonstrates our flaky and incomplete understanding of the subject. Patrick Godfrey gives a matter-of-fact performance as the Old Man, showing no sentimentality. The rest of the ensemble give partly comic, partly poignant performances as onlookers at the funeral and highlight the need for us to live in the moment and the temporary nature of life. This is a powerful piece of theatre that deserves a greater run in a building that needs more alternative theatrical experiences such as this.
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Classical superstars Bartoli and Villazon have graced the Barbican with an evening of Classical and bel canto arias, duets, and excerpts. Supported by the excellent Orchestra La Scintilla of the Zurich Opera, the pair bring joy and energy. Rolando Villazon may not be the most able of tenors, even without the cold he had on this evening which haltered his head voice and passagio, yet he is certainly the most energetic and lively tenor, with a likability that makes his documentaries so compelling. Cecillia Bartoli without doubt is one of the greatest mezzos and also has a charm and a rapport with Rolando that is just wonderful to see. The evening's programme tackled lovein all its forms from unrequited to requited to tragic. Whilst Villazon's arias were damaged because of his cold, he still brought the energy and passion which made them easy to listen to. Bartoli had no illness so soared through the evening, seeing off difficult Rossini arias as if they were 'twinkle, twinkle, little star'. The finale of Otello was moving and perfect. Rossini writes the final scene better than Shakespeare, making Desdemona a far stronger mezzo and the end is far grittier and less romanticised than in the play so, whilst there were some lighting effects which were unneccesary, the performance of this scene was spellbinding from both of them. This was certainly an evening which deserved the three encores this duo received.
The Homecoming as a play sits uneasily with me. Despite the astute commentary of the nature of the male psyche and the changing views and roles of the sexes, it is tricky to emotionally connect to a narrative where no character (with the possible exception of Sam) is in any way sympathetic. There is also an issue of seeing prostitution as empowering and a sign of female strength which I find dated and warped.
In spite of this, I really enjoyed Jamie Lloyd's 50th anniversary revival. The production feels like it should be at the Royal Court, with an electric and brooding feel, enhanced by Soutra Gilmour's bare bones set and Richard Howell's intense lighting design, that shocks and, whilst I have some objections to the text, it still has something to say. Lloyd makes everything these characters say gripping and painful and, with use of the Pinter pause, makes the silence as painful as the awful words being said. Keith Allen's Sam is somewhat over-camp for my liking, with his performance bordering on caricature, but the rest of this stellar cast are exceptional. Ron Cook is a domineering as Max, the control freak who can't control his own family. John Simm's magnetic Lenny is psychotic, with his amicability punctuated by violent anecdotes as John Macmillan's as with John Macmillan's simple yet menacing Joey. Gary Kemp's Teddy is perhaps the most hateful of the lot, with his passivity and acceptance in the second act demonstrating how intellect doesn't always change people's base behaviour. Gemma Chan is hypnotic and fascinating as Ruth who is just as twistedand perverse as the other characters yet appears to be more of a victim then the others. For me, this is the best production I have seen from the Jamie Lloyd residency at the Trafalgar Studios with a production of a play that challenges and provokes strong responses from anyone who watches or reads it.
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Jane Eyre makes 3 and a half hours feel like 30 minutes in perhaps the most powerful pieces of theatre in 2015. Sally Cookson and the cast have devised this show, forming Charlotte Bronte's story through improvisation. This gives the novel new life and appears to generate sublime performances from the best ensemble of the year. Far from the cushy chic-flick with winsome staring into the distance, the company have created something that demonstrates the tough nature of Jane who fights to be free and for justice. Michael Vale's set further defies the expectation of an adaptation of Jane Eyre. Described by many as a playground, it captures an audiences imagination and,as well as being able to cope with the multiple scene changes, it highlights the adventurous and exiting journey Jane has undertaken. Benji Bower's fantastic music choices and arrangements further the pain felt by Melanie Marshall's Bertha Mason, whose voice is divine and full of burning hatred and pain. Madeleine Worral is a defiant, strong and brilliant Jane, Felix Hayes is a mysterious and intruiging Rochester, whilst the rest of the ensemble cast are also extraordinary as Jane's conscience and the multiple roles each actor takes on. With a national tour on the cards, this is a show which is essential for everyone to experience.
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The issue of global warming is addressed in David Greig's adaptation of Dr Seuss's famous story. The show tells the story of the Once-ler and how his obsession with making money destroys the Lorax's paradise. Through puppetry, the Lorax is brought to life with exceptional skill which always astonishes me. From the Lion King to Avenue Q and now to this, how the skill of the puppeteers manage to give this inanimate object a life and personality of it's own is unimaginable. The story occasionally can feel the wrong side of preachy but this rarely happens and is a laugh right the way through. From jokes about the rhyming, which never gets tiresome, to music from Charlie Fink which is fun and jaunty, it's a brilliant family show. Rob Howell's set is colourful and captures your imagination with wonderful quirks like the trees and Once-ler tower. Simon Paisley- Day is a great Once-ler, emboying the problem of capitalism in a fun and jovial, turning sinister Once-ley whilst Simon Lipkin provides the Lorax with an animated and characterful voice which is a delight to watch. It's hard not to fall in love with a show so excellently crafted as this one.
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I came in to the Young Vic feeling apprehensive. Their previous Shakespeare was less than entertaining and this was another proscenium arch production in a space which is clearly best suited to thrust and in-the-round productions. However, as I started I instantly felt comfortable that Carrie Cracknell and Lucy Guerin knew what they were doing. This Macbeth combines the text with superb choreography which intensifies the supernatural elements of the drama. Ana Beatriz Meireles, Jessie Oshodi and Clemmie Sveaas especially are wonderfully unsettling and physical as the three witches who, in this production, appear to manipulate Macbeth's descent into madness rather than being done by Macbeth's own greed and ambition, shown through their almost continuous presence in the drama. Lizzie Clachan's design also demonstrates Macbeth's fate being pre-determined and his being trapped in yet another striking and ingenious design from Clachan, who is demonstrating the huge talent of designers in modern theatre that is staggering in quality. Neil Austin too has become the go-too guy for great lighting design and he excels here, both concealing the truth and, especially in the banquet scene, contrasts between Macbeth's mind and the action. Performances are immense. Anna Maxwell Martin is a formidable Lady M, not falling into the villainess trap, with her silences meaning as much as her words, which are conveyed with passion and elegance. John Heffernan is quickly turning into my favourite actor with an incomparable gift for maintaining a rhythm and technique whilst portraying pure truth. In Oppenheimer, his performance rescued what, in my opinion, was a flawed production. Here, his talent is allowed to blend in and fuse with perhas the strongest ensemble I've seen this year. Prasanna Puwanarajah also wonderful as Banquo and the casting of his son Fleance is thought provoking and an inspired directorial decision. This is one of the shows of the year and shows that the Young Vic haven't lost their ability to punch above the heavy weights with this gem of a tragedy. (Genuinely awful programmes though. Even worse than the Dorfman one. One tiny article and some biographies simply isn't good enough for three pounds!)
Calixto Bieito has returned to the English National Opera to direct Verdi's truly epic opera of love and war. The scale of the piece ranges from the personal to the large scale war scenes which leaves quite an impact on the audience. Wigglesworth's interpretation of Verdi's score, as with Lady Macbeth, is dramatic, grand and rich. The overture is just wonderful to listen to. The singing too is world-class. Tamara Wilson is a revelation as Leonora whilst Gwyn Hughes Jones' Don Alvaro is also well constructed and strong. The piece could be stronger with a less ambiguous set design from Rebecca Ringst whose use of videos is not helpful to either plot or meaning whilst Bieito isn't always clear in showing the audience what is going on. This detracts somewhat from what is otherwise an evening showcasing extraordinary talent.
Jonathan Miller's production of the Barber of Seville has aged badly but the same can't be said for his production of Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado. Thanks to Stefanos Lazaridis' set design and Sue Blane's costumes, this production is bright and vibrant, keeping the light- hearted humour of G and S without falling into the more racist, stereotypical pitfalls of the jokes. Carol Grant and Anthony von Laast's choreography is delightful and comic whilst Marc Rosette's and Davy Cunningham's lighting makes the production look joyous. Richard Suart is wonderfully kniving and sympathetic Ko-Ko, with a brilliantly topical little list including pig-gate and Top Gear and Anthony Gregory as Nanki- Poo is vocally excellent as well as comical. Mary Bevan's Yum-Yum feels effortless as does every performance in this cast. This is truly Gilbert and Sullivan at it's most fun.
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My first two visits to Glyndebourne this year were two of the best experiences one could wish for. You make an effort to get to an inaccessible place to watch a supposed inaccessible art form and you appreciate it all the more for that. Your day is sacrificed in order to watch and experience a group of people, an organisation, strive for perfection in a way that you rarely see in London. This perhaps is why I took so easily to David Hare's play about Glyndebourne's conception at the Hampstead Theatre. It is a celebration of striving for excellence; the singleminded, ambitious aims of John Christie and the importance of art at it's purest. Hare manages to create a narrative of Glyndebourne's early years whilst jumping about different time gaps which in so many cases is frustrating but here goes unnoticed. It is a riveting play which keeps you hooked for the duration. Rae Smith has designed a set which shows the construction of beauty with an unfinished oil painting of the organ room with a stage being surrounded by tables and paintings off stage for action that isn't about Glyndebourne itself which Jeremy Herrin stages ingeniously. Roger Allam is, as ever, delightful to watch as the headstrong yet personable John Christie whilst Nancy Carroll is quiet yet forceful as his wife Audrey Mildmay. George Taylor, Paul Jesson and Nick Sampson are wonderful as the team who come to turn Christie's dream into reality. There is one speech which Roger Allam performs spectacularly well addressing the price of art, saying that people need to invest in the art they see 'and if it takes a whole day and wipes out their savings, so much the better'. Whilst this argument is strong, it is an argument I fundamentally disagree with. Art does require investment but if that means that a whole section of society can't access that art, that art form becomes elitist and exclusive which is disturbing to me. It is therefore to the plays credit that I came out of this play pleased, despite this speech, and this comes down to the talent of the cast and creative team.
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The bravery of Kate Mulvany and Anne-Louise Sarks' adaptation of Medea to put the children at the forefront is commendable. The practicalities of getting strong enough child actors to star is near impossible, on top of the need to get across Euripides' original plot and essentially make two children waiting feel exiting and engaging for one hour and ten minutes. Therefore it is astonishing to find that Sarks' production not only works; it excels in every aspect. The setting both exists in the modern day, with Amy Jane Cook's design transforming the Gate's space into a contemporary boys bedroom, and in the Greek age, with the story of Jason and the Argonauts being recounted which could either be interpreted as a fairytale or a real one. The language is naturalistic and focuses on the children's innocence but also treats Medea with sympathy. Amongst the innocence, however, it also has a social commentary on modern day socialisation. You enter in to a normal boy's bedroom strewn about with Nerf guns, bows and arrows and, throughout the show, Jasper and Leon fence, reenact deaths and attack a toy monkey with a foam baseball bat. These activities are used to demonstrate the socialisation of males towards violence and aggression in a rather unsettling way. This feeling is intensified when it is being carried out by innocent children who still wet themselves and hug their father's blanket. Jasper and Leon were played by Bill Keogh and Samuel Menhinick at the performance I went to and they are wonderful young actors who don't come across as precocious and annoying which child actors occasionally come across as. This is a wonderfully immersive and emotional experience that gets to the crux of Euripide's tragedy.
Emily Bronte's classic novel has been given a radical makeover in Stephanie Street's new adaptation in a production from the National Youth Theatre. Street's narrative arc in this adaptation feels both uneventful (which is often a problem in stage versions of novels) and rushed in an attempt to fit about 350 pages of story into under 2 hours of material. Scenes between older Kathy and Heathcliffe appear to have no particular purpose other than to reminisce and argue whilst alternating younger Heathcliffe and Kathy seems to only be done in order for all of the company to have a part. Cecillia Carey's set design manages to maintain the gothic nature of the novel whilst making it feel updated and modern and the ensemble cast give admirable performances. However, these upsides don't stop this evening from feeling unsatisfying and unfinished.
George Friedrich Haas' new opera has had it's premiere at the Royal Opera House and it has fallen into a problem many directors find in the space. This opera, an intimate piece about life and death, feels lost in the 2000 seat venue. The music is a sweeping soundscape which at times is chilling and emotionally led yet it could be scaled down to fit in a studio space. Graham Vick's staging would also adapt better in the Linbury but minimalism doesn't work well in a space where small expressions are lost by the 6th or 7th row back. The amplification of speech also loses some emotionally intensity, despite Klaus Maria Brandauer's best efforts. Performances from the singers are competent but not as emotionally rich as one might wish for in a piece about death. The piece finished with two thirds of the audience still there which is some achievement yet I don't think it has succeeded in bringing anything particularly powerful to the stage.
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