The Pillowman
by Martin McDonagh
Teddington Theatre Club at The Coward Room, Hampton Hill Theatre until 6th May
Review by Thomas Forsythe
Are you sitting comfortably? Then I will begin … …
… … but I guarantee that you will not be sitting comfortably for very long.
If you like your humour to be black, then The Pillowman is the vantablack of humour. And the humour is the foil to as gruesome a tale as ever entered the Brothers Grimm’s corpus.
Then come out from behind the sofa, peep between your fingers, and I’ll start again.
Once upon a time, there was a director called Kelly Wood, who specialises in plays that intertwine horror and humour and a writer who specialises in plays about … er, rural life in the west of Ireland?
Yes, Martin McDonagh is better known for stage plays set in bucolic Celtic surroundings, The Beauty Queen of Leenane, A Skull in Connemara orThe Cripple of Inishmaan. Breaking the mould, The Pillowman was his first play not to be set in County Galway, the home of his parents. It had its world premiere at the National in 2003 (although it did appear as a rehearsed reading at the Finborough Theatre in 1995). However, interestingly, it was not until 2015 that The Pillowman had it Irish premiere (in Galway), having had premieres in nine other countries in the interim.
Kelly Wood’s first full directorial piece for TTC was in the controversial Night of Dark Intent in 2013, another piece of black humour and horror, albeit with a slightly lighter touch than The Pillowman. In this remarkable piece, she demonstrates clearly that she has mastered the genre. The Pillowman is a play that is highly disturbing, full of uneasy humour and at the same time deeply touching. It unnervingly lurches from explicit violence to tender lyricism. It is also cleverly written, as stories sit within stories and the plot can be interpreted in several ways. Wood has therefore a challenging piece to move from page to stage, and the challenge was undoubtedly well met.
McDonagh never makes the time nor the place setting of The Pillowman clear, but it is set within a totalitarian police state in the recent past, which smacks strongly of Eastern Europe in the 1960s. We are in the subterranean interrogation cells of the police headquarters. The outstanding skills of TTC’s inventive set designer, Trine Taraldsvik, have transformed the intimate space of the Hampton Hill Theatre’s Coward Studio into a menacing and claustrophobic space. The walls are brutal concrete blocks, rendered in trompe d’œil; the floors pierced with drains and grilles; the furniture steel. The details are ironic statements of the nature of the room’s business, sacks marked “Police Evidence” stacked high, a “No Smoking” sign.
Even as the audience foregathers, there, sitting on a chair, is a prisoner with a black bag over his head. At the start, a policeman enters and tells the prisoner to remove the bag, as it simply looks silly. At once the prevailing tone of the play is struck: a building and dissipation of horror to humour and of humour to horror.
The prisoner is Katurian K Katurian, a writer of fairy-stories that describe macabre killings of young children. However, these killings are identikit matches of those of real life children found murdered after being horrifically tortured. His inquisitors are Tupolski, the lead detective, who declares himself to be the “good cop” and Ariel, the brutal and short-tempered “bad cop”. Or is it the other way round? In this play, there all the time hovers a feeling that what you see is not what you get: the question of what is real and what is a story is left ambiguous.
Ariel’s methods of interrogation are to the point. His opening is to bang the head of his prisoner so hard on the steel table that everyone in the audience gasps (and that’s just for starters). Tupolski’s methods are more psychological, he has a good line in sarcasm peppered with ironic non-sequiturs … and he is the one who wears the gun. Katurian is also the carer for his older brother, Michal, who is “slow to get things”. When we learn that Michal has also been taken into custody from his school for special needs, we know that the police interrogation methods will take another tack. Both brothers are suspected of implication in the children’s murders. They are threatened with summary execution. Then Katurian hears Michal’s voice, screaming in agony from a neighbouring cell. He is being tortured… or is he?
Luke Michaels as Ariel (last seen at TTC as the sinister taciturn waiter in Dinner) pitches the level of menace just right, never understated but never straying into caricature. Brooding and introspective, his portrayal nevertheless allows room for hints of humanity to glimmer through the cracks. Charles Golding plays a Tupolski that is controlled and controlling. He is the puller of strings. The sharp knife of sarcasm and even sharper tool of ridicule are whetted to perfection. Golding knows how to balance the black comedy with a sense of menace. When extracting a confession, Tupolski says, “It’s just like being at school … except that school didn’t execute you … unless it was a tough school”. The timing was spot-on.
Tom Cooper’s depiction of the retarded Michal put across his damaged and vulnerable nature whilst showing a child-like but crafty other edge. It is through Michal that we hear the tragic back-story of the brothers, their years of physical abuse at the hands of their parents. Michal was tortured by his parents so that his harrowing screams would filter into the talented young Katurian’s dreams to inspire him to become an eminent writer. To this extent the parents’ grotesque experiment succeed in that it produced Katurian’s hypnotically ghoulish fairy-stories.
These fairy-stories of Katurian’s are symbolically auto-biographical, and in these stories sit others like the figures in a Babushka doll. Interestingly, in the real world McDonagh and his brother were abandoned by their parents in London when they returned to Galway when Martin McDonagh was eleven years old. Maybe the nested Babushka dolls reflect an auto-biographical element into real life.
It is in the recounting of these stories that McDonagh’s style widens into a broad lyricism, a poetic form that has a strange mesmerising beauty in spite of its horrific subject matter. And here the TTC’s production is astounding. Katurian tells his stories from the intimacy of a tightly spot-lit circle, to a mesmerising soundscape and accompanied by projections of sepia drawings with a wabi-sabi quality. Mention must be made at this point of the creative team. Steph Pang’s lighting design is subtlety atmospheric, often with candlelit feel, but incorporating nice effects such as a black-light special to revel blood splashes on the wall and floor as luminous traces; Nick Eliott’s edgy soundscape included music from Ghosts by NIИ (the industrial rock band, Nine Inch Nails); whereas the drawings by illustrator Michelle Sabev are influenced by The Brothers Quay. Tom Wright’s costume design is crisply to the point, white for the “innocent” prisoners, black for the “evil” torturers.
Katurian tells his stories, some juvenile such as The Little Green Pig; some ostensibly reassuring like The Pillowman; others with terrifying endings, The Little Apple Men, The Three Gibbet Crossroads, The Tale of the Town on the River and The Little Jesus, or the auto-biographical The Writer and the Writer’s Brother; but all with utterly shocking conclusions.
It is in the telling of these stories that the outstanding acting of Tom Shore as Katurian comes to the fore. He is a consummate story-teller and has the audience transfixed. Set this against the totally engaging portrayal of Katurian, which has the audience gripped with every direction of his feelings, fear, defiance, pain, exasperation, then it was a tour-de-force. Katurian has multiple dilemmas, but the ultimate is does he save himself, his beloved brother or his life’s work, his stories?
As each of the four main characters’ backstories emerge our sympathies swing between them, but the ending, never predictable, is not what the audience expected or hoped. However, as throughout the play, the ending has more twists than, say, a little green pig’s tail.
Katurian is interrogated at one point about the style of his writing. He replies, “It is something –esque; I’m not sure what”. The same could be said of McDonagh’s treatment of The Pillowman. Think Grimm-esque overpainted Kafka-esque, with Orwell-esque shading and a little Pinter-esque or even Orton-esque detailing.
We are told that writing is “worth getting your elbows broken for”, but is this a play about the responsibilities of the writer, about the power of the pen, or about power itself? Is it about fidelities and values? Or is it about the nature of reality and what you can believe? Whatever it is about, The Pillowman is a cracking multi-layered story and, for all its unsettling horror, TTC’s version is utterly mesmerising.
… but don’t expect that fairy-story ending … “and they all lived happily ever after”.
Thomas Forsythe
April 2017
Photographs by Jonathan Constant
The Seagull
by Anton Chekhov, adapted by Torben Betts
Richmond Shakespeare Society, at The Mary Wallace Theatre
Review by Catherine Wilson
By kind permission of Essential Surrey
Located just off The Embankment at Twickenham, you’ll find a hidden gem, The Mary Wallace Theatre, which for the forthcoming week hosts one of Chekhov’s great works, The Seagull. As the audience gathers in the auditorium, so too do the cast on stage, a veritable mix of summer guests, assembling for the opening of an avant-garde play set upon an idyllic Russian lake. It is quickly apparent that this is an ensemble of individuals all who are all deeply concerned with their own self happiness, individually vying for attention and each striving for change.
We are introduced to the playwright Konstantin (a strong performance by Liam Hurley) a man clearly consumed with the pursuit of Art, who is not only suffering in his artistic endeavours but too in the field of love – and he is not the only one. The subject of his desire is Nina, the protagonist of his play and Magdalena Jablonska sets the pace and standard with a flawlessly over the top performance of Konstantin’s new work.
Through the dialogue Chekov hints to the complex relationships that link the ensemble. He does not reveal the characters at first encounter, instead the audience must piece together the motives behind each individual’s behaviour. The play is centred around a string of unrequited love – Simon is in love with Masha, who is in love with Konstantin, who is in love with Nina, who falls in love with Trigorin, who eventually reverts to his affair with Arkadina, who really only loves herself. This makes for compelling viewing and it is in the intricacies of the characters that the failings and frailty of the human condition is wonderfully portrayed. Resultantly, the play is as relevant today as when it was written in 1895.
This is in part due to Torben Betts’ adaptation of the classic, which is a startlingly modern and thrusts the language into the 21st century. In this, perhaps some of the subtleties in language of the Chekov original are missing, however this is a fast paced evening which was provocative and captivating from start to finish and every actor should be applauded for portraying the variety of characters with realism and insight.
Despite the narcissistic and negative tendencies, we are able to relate and there are many laughs afforded throughout the course of the evening. Perhaps one of the funniest interactions is between rejected and unheard Simon (Peter Easterbrook) and the brusque and unfulfilled Masha (Rachel Burnham) and yet, despite the comedy we can only feel sympathy as we watch the characters unravel before our eyes.
The play is cleverly staged with the action taking place amongst the aisles, from all angles, and this along with the use of recorded inner thoughts there is a real sense of being an intimate witness to the events unfolding. The set design, whilst simple, is beautifully evocative and effectively translates the passage of time.
The members of the cast work superbly together with the comedic relief ultimately making the finale all the more poignant and tragic. For me, Dorothy Duffy as Arkadina is the star of the show (both as a character and actress!) and she is well supported by the self-obsessed Trigorin (Darren McIlroy) and the quiet discontent of Peter (John Mortley).
Richmond Shakespeare Society has created an engaging and interesting production of The Seagull and I look forward to their upcoming season with anticipation.
Catherine Wilson, Essential Surrey
April 2017
Photographs by Simone Best
The Seagull
by Anton Chekhov, adapted by Torben Betts
Richmond Shakespeare Society, at The Mary Wallace Theatre
21st to 30th April
Review by Mary Stoakes
Purists and critics will quibble, as they are wont to do, with the much acclaimed, updated adaptation of The Seagull by Torben Betts. In the original version, the play, although designated as a ‘comedy’ by Chekhov , has a considerable subtext about the meaning of life and through his characters’ personalities and interactions demonstrates the dilemmas of being an artist and particularly an artist in love. Despite being a failure on its first performance in 1898 the play was subsequently produced and promoted by Stanislavski , the great Russian theatre director, and has been hailed as ‘one of the greatest new developments in world drama’ –a pioneer of the new realism which was gradually gaining ground in European theatre.
The production at the Mary Wallace Theatre, directed by Susan Conte, was pacey and funny, although in an attempt to keep the action moving, there was a tendency by some of the younger actors in the first act to rush their lines. There are many ensemble scenes and we were presented with some great groupings especially in the family gatherings and the cast tableau at the final curtain. The positioning of the ‘stage’ in the first act gave Nina ample space in which to perform. However the entrances and exits through the auditorium tended to break the atmosphere on stage and some might have had more impact if from the wings.
The action takes place in the late 19th century on the country estate by a lake in Russia belonging to Peter Sorin, the elderly and ailing brother of a famous actress, Irina. Unfortunately the set gave little impression of the much praised beauty of the site and the representation of the interior in Act 3 with flimsy white poles, a mimed door and minimal furniture did little to set the time and place.
Sounds effects were also virtually non-existent with little hint of the storm and incessant rain which was alleged to be raging outside in Act 4, although there were some storm clouds over the lake. Costumes set the piece firmly in the 1890s. The men were stylishly clad but, whilst the majority of the women’s clothes were utilitarian and quite suitable, Irina’s dresses were lacking in style for such a flamboyant character, even on holiday in the country, and did little to differentiate her status from the rest of the cast.
The Seagull depicts two visits by Irina with her lover Boris Trigorin, a famous playwright, to the estate, where her son, himself a frustrated writer, currently lives, with his uncle. Dormant ambitions, passions and anxieties in this small provincial community are awakened by these visitors from a very different world.
Magdalena Jablonska, playing Nina, the eponymous Seagull, is a newcomer to RSS. This young actress showed some insights into this complex character. Understandably she was most successful in the first acts, when naively expressing her hopes for an acting career, demonstrating her skill in amateur theatricals and subsequently her growing infatuation with Boris Trigorin. In the final act the depths of her despair and madness at losing her child, her career and her lover were not fully captured and the constant circling around Konstantin when delivering her last incoherent speech led to loss of its symbolism and impact. That said, Magdalena shows much promise and we will follow her progress with interest.
Konstantin, in love with Nina, is the only son of Irina, a famous actress. Liam Hurley succeeded in capturing the frustrations and bitterness which he felt about his lack of success both in his writing and in his relationships with both his mother and Nina. This was a high energy and sincere performance, veering between despair and anger but perhaps lacking in the moments of quiet reflection needed for a fully rounded and explicable character. Nevertheless this was an impressive debut with RSS – another young actor to watch!
As Irina, Dorothy Duffy didn’t quite fulfil ones ideas of a famous 19th century actress accustomed to starring in grand melodramatic plays in the old Russian tradition. Irina is stubborn, vain, stingy and demanding but in this performance Dorothy wasn’t quite as insensitive or overbearing as the part demands. However, her scene with Konstantin after his attempted suicide did depict briefly another, more tender, side to her character. Her pleading and flattery of her lover Boris when he threatened to leave vividly portrayed the insecurities of an ageing woman in danger of losing her looks.
Boris Trigorin was played by Darren Milroy, a newcomer to RSS. Boris is often spoken of as the greatest of Chekhov’s male creations, depicted as revered writer and member of the elite Russian intelligentsia. Unfortunately in this version he was portrayed as a mildly egoistical fool, at the mercy of his amorous and literary obsessions but with no hint of the intelligent, decadent and manipulative character lying beneath the façade. This characterisation, whilst provoking much laughter in the audience, detracted from the bleak mood and outcome of the play.
The four main protagonists are supported by an interesting collection of characters whose lives provide a back story to the main action. Outstanding amongst these was Rachel Burnham, as Masha, the disillusioned and depressive daughter of the estate manager. Hard – drinking and snuff taking, her body language emphasised her unhappiness and unrequited passion for Konstantin and the lack of love received from her father. The scene with Eugene, (James Lloyd Pegg) a local doctor, whom it was hinted may be her true father, was sincerely and movingly played by both actors.
Eugene acts as a commentator, confidant and witness to the events. His ambivalent position in relation to the household, and his somewhat detached relationship with Paulina (Susan Reoch), was very believable. Paulina’s obvious discontent with her life with Ilia (Jim Trimmer, excellent as the ruthless estate manager) contributed to a credible portrait of a woman who fervently desires nothing more than her daughter’s (and her own) happiness.
As Simon, Masha’s long time suitor and poor local schoolmaster whom she finally marries to escape from her infatuation and the boredom of life on the estate, Peter Easterbrook gave a moving portrayal of a man paralysed by his insecurities , financial difficulties and dejected by his situation both before and after his marriage.
John Mortley as Peter, a government official who has retired to the country, appeared very much at ease as the ailing, older brother of Irina. With excellent physical and verbal projection, he ruefully reviewed his own unfulfilled life and nevertheless was a wise and supportive confidant to all. John gave a lovely, believable portrayal of an older man with deteriorating health and dreams of what might have been.
Stanislavski is often quoted as saying There is no such thing as a small role, only small actors. James MacDonald and Georganna Simpson were on stage for much of the performance as servants and mainly silent observers of the household. Their body language indicated their involvement in the lives of their masters, particularly from Georganna as the maid whose strong suppressed feelings for Konstantin were vividly unleashed by her scream of anguish at the end of the play.
Torben Betts’ contemporary script emphasises the comedic, even farcical, elements of the convoluted and ultimately tragic relationships of the main protagonists to such an extent that some of the poetry, symbolism and self-reflective moments in the original are lost, as is the exploration of ideas both about theatre and life.
It is the job of actors to present the play as it is written, anachronisms and all, and the comic elements of this version were well played by an ensemble cast of diverse characters, all of whom ‘loved too well but not wisely’! ‘Voice overs’ did demonstrate some characters inner thoughts, but in accentuating the comedy of these complex lives, much of the tragedy, particularly in Nina and Konstantin’s relationship, was lost and the symbolism of the seagull made a lesser impact.
Mary Stoakes
April 2017
Photographs by Simone Best
Abigail’s Party
by Mike Leigh
Richmond Theatre
Review by Eleanor Lewis
Forty years after its first performance at Hampstead Theatre, Abigail’s Party has returned to the stage in Richmond, appropriately kitted out in chrome, genuine leather and plenty of shag pile.
The draw of Abigail’s Party is that most of us have sat, furtively watching the clock, through at least one event hosted by a ‘Beverly’ and peopled by characters like those invited to her drinks party. Excruciating and thrilling at the same time it’s like watching human life on a petri dish. The challenge when directing it is in hitting the balance between the easy laughs to be had at the expense of people who put red in the fridge (because we know better), whilst at the same time respecting those carefully created characters rather than treating them as caricatures. Beverly’s guests, as they descend into an increasingly fraught, Bacardi and gin fuelled evening, reveal the state of the three relationships on view – dead, dying and might be just about salvageable – and so much else besides. Director Sarah Esdaile hit the balance perfectly.
A huge exterior view of the outside of Beverly’s house opened out to reveal the inside as the action began, bringing to mind Pete Seeger’s 1963 hit Little Boxes satirising suburban America: “neat”. The little box in question glowed with Paul Pyant’s bright, slightly oppressive lighting and inside, writhing around in a Love to Love You Baby reverie, was Beverly.
Amanda Abbington’s Beverly, a suburban sex-siren-with-rotisserie was a joy to watch and very nicely pitched. This was no screeching, vulgar Beverly but rather a woman with a wide array of issues that she was blissfully unaware of, zero self-knowledge and an uncompromising need to control everyone around her by whatever means was most effective. “Have another drink Susan, no have another drink Susan!” being one regular reaffirmation of her dominance.
The beleaguered Susan was played impressively by Rose Keegan. Subjected to bursts of the relentless, interview-type questioning which Beverly and Angela viewed as conversation, Susan was ultimately patronised as a poor soul for losing her man. Rose Keegan’s ability to portray Susan as a reserved but rounded character and also one with a hint of a sense of humour was striking, given that she was equipped only with very short or monosyllabic lines with which to do it.
A strong supporting cast did full justice to this comic-tragic social snapshot. Ben Caplan as Beverly’s husband, Laurence, portrayed a man certainly leading a life of desperation, though not of the quiet type. The man who worked himself to death in 1977, a signal of the state of work-related expectations to come.
Abigail’s Party can’t be the most straightforward of plays to perform, you can’t – ironically – put it into a particular box to classify it but you can mine a lot of entertainment from it. This production was very entertaining on many levels and this reviewer is now off to make sure she applies lipstick to every single corner of her mouth. Cheers!
Eleanor Lewis
April 2017
Young Writer’s Festival 2016-17
Arts Richmond at The Orange Tree Theatre, 23rd April
Retrospective by Georgia Renwick
Here in Richmond borough we are very fortunate to have a richly diverse arts culture, and thanks to the annual Young Writer’s Festival produced by Arts Richmond, we can be assured the next generation are on their marks to take up the torch.
Arts Richmond works in close partnership with the borough’s Arts Services, the Orange Tree Theatre, local schools and voluntary societies to involve young people in the joys of writing and to celebrate their work. The Young Writer’s festival, which has been running for a number of years, is open to any young person who lives in or attends school in Richmond borough. Thanks to a dedicated team including numerous volunteers and to a high level of enthusiasm the event has gone from strength to strength. This year there were nearly 400 entries, from which just 16 have been selected to be performed by professional actors at this special event, directed by local theatre practitioner Keith Wait. From those sixteen, an overall winner is awarded in each age category and most special of all, just one Arts Richmond Young Laureate and one Junior Laureate are chosen for the year. This year the prizes have been generously donated by well-known children’s author Dame Jacqueline Wilson, who was herself the UK’s Children’s Laureate from 2005-2007, and continues to be a Patron of Arts Richmond.
The judging panel have chosen an outstanding selection which sizzles with creativity, is rich in variety and is at once entertaining, touching and emotional in its sincerity. The observations and insights that children of even the youngest age category have to share with us are quite profound.
Youngest Age Group Collect Certificates
Winner of the School Years 4 and Under Category (children aged 9 and under), Yifei Wang, has written a harrowing diary entry in role as a soldier in WWI. His work is, I understand, a creative and emotive response to the 100 years’ commemorations last year, which includes insightful factual detail as well as a central character a reader of any age can really empathise with.
Years 7 to 10 Collect Certificates
Abina Prasad, winner of the broadest age category, School Years 7-10, was also influenced by a historical period and wrote in role as Anne Boleyn in her piece The Final Moments. She is eloquently able to stitch together moments from the ill-fated Queen’s life with her final moment, her tragic beheading. This type of writing offers such an insightful and creative way into accessing and engaging with history, if it is not already widely practised in schools, it certainly should be.
The winner of the School Year’s 5-6 category Camilla Salar also chose a writing in role format. In her piece Never Give Up she writes in role as a young girl much like herself, but fleeing the war in Syria. The topicality of her piece is indisputable, and the level of empathy she shows is mature and affecting. I support the judges’ decision to also award her the title of Junior Laureate, and am sure that the experience will help her to grow and develop in her writing, as well as offering her further opportunities to share her work and grow in confidence. She is a reminder that children can teach us grown-ups a thing or two about our perspective on our world, writers or otherwise.
The Young Laureate chosen by the judges for this year is Miranda Barrett, writing in the School Years 11 and Over Category. Her poem The Wheelchair Kid which ambiguously depicts a wheelchair-bound nineteen-year-old pitched off a cliff edge, is a projection of her fears, she tells us, for her autistic brothers. It is quietly distressing, rendered with exemplary observation and maturity.
Philomena Murray Collects Certificate
A noticeable proportion of the writing addresses difficult, upsetting themes. War, death, family tragedy and destruction of the environment are all raised. Their prevalence is a strong reminder of the power of writing in helping us to process and understand life’s challenges, which these young people have commendably embraced at an early age, with creativity and sensitivity.
The Older Authors Discuss Their Work
Children have a unique perspective on the perversity of the world, and this can be realised in a humorous way as well as a tragic one. Much of the writing also had the adults, and children alike, chuckling away. Olivia Day imagines a party hosted by a cupcake, and sabotaged by an evil jam tart whilst George Parson imagines the life of an unhappy fridge stuffed too full by its clumsy owner.
Actors (l-r) Beth Eyre, Keith Wait (director), Jenna Fox and AJ MacGillivray
Although the celebration was about the children, the actors simply must be commended for the fantastic job they did in their delivery of the material. The three performers worked seamlessly together to bring dynamic movement as well as their strong, compelling voices to the work. The pieces were performed in full, unedited, allowing the children to speak as children, (small) grammatical errors and all, so their voices and personalities really shone through. Hearing adults deliver the work could so easily have been over-done and potentially patronising, but instead it was earnest in its youthful energy and more ‘adult’ when it was called upon to be. It was frequently easy to forget just how young these writers are for the maturity of their work, when read by adult voices. The young people could be seen squirming but smiling, what a treat for them to experience the merits of their talents in this way, and for us to witness them. After the performance was over, the actors were generously available for the children to talk to. Perhaps there are some future performers, as well as writers, here today.
These exemplary children remind us that all children can surprise us in what they are interested in or capable of contemplating and addressing in our world. We would do well to listen to their concerns, and encourage them to continue expressing these in creative ways, more so now than ever, when it is all too easy to allow them to plug into technology and purely consume.
If we continue to support and develop creative events such as the Arts Richmond Young Writers’ Festival, the futures of these children, and the artistic future of the borough look winningly bright.
Georgia Renwick
April 2017
For review of writers’ work see the Arts Richmond website here
Joe Jammer’s All-Star Chicago Blues Revue
The Eel Pie Club at The Cabbage Patch, Twickenham, 20th April
A Review by Cliff Tapstand
The Eel Pie Club attracts a large number of musicians with years of experience playing in, or with, world famous bands and artists, but there are few who would match the CV of Chicago born, Joe Jammer, but more of that later. Let’s get straight into the gig.
The first thing you notice about a Joe Jammer gig is the personal touch. Before the show gets under way, Joe wanders through the club shaking hands, chatting, and perhaps sampling the occasional Jack Daniels, just to lubricate the vocal chords.
The show starts with Joe on guitar, John Scott on bass, and Russell Gills on drums for three opening numbers including Little Red Rooster, written by Willie Dixon, made famous by Howlin’ Wolf, and was the only true ‘Blues’ song ever to reach No. 1 in the charts, when recorded by The Rolling Stones in 1965.
By this time, Tom Brundage on harmonica, and vocalists, Lamb Lamont, and Annie Wright, have completed the line-up, and songs by some of the great names in the history of the blues continued to flow, Robert Cray’s ‘Smokin’ Gun’, Jimmy Reed’s ‘Big Boss Man’ and Rufus Thomas’s ‘Walking The Dog’. The latter is another blues song adopted by The Stones, and another example of how The Blues influenced British musical culture in the sixties.
One song that clearly meant a lot to Joe was Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Red House’ which he played in true Hendrix style, including teeth! This is a real test of guitar playing and needless to say, he passed with flying colours, as did his rhythm section, John and Russell.
The first set concluded with a song written by Albert Collins, ‘I Ain’t Drunk’, the next line being, ‘I’m only drinking’. Once again, in the break between sets, Joe spent his time wandering through, and chatting with his audience.
The second set got underway with Whole Lotta Shakin’, a song made famous by Gerry Lee Lewis, for whom Joe had been a session guitarist, as he had for many other artists, including, Mick Jagger, Joe Cocker, and Ringo Starr. This was followed by Stevie Ray Vaughan’s House Is A Rocking followed by a song written by Albert King called Everybody Wants To Go To Heaven, the second line being, “but nobody wants to die.”
This was followed by one of the most famous songs in rock ‘n’ roll history, ‘Hound Dog’, made famous by Elvis Presley, but 3 years earlier, in 1953, it was a hit for blues singer Big Mama Thornton. I’ve just listened to her version on U-tube, and believe me it is better than Elvis’s.
The second set came to a rousing climax with Bobby Womack’s ‘All Over Now’, another early hit for The Rolling Stones, before the song writing talents of Jagger and Richards were unleashed on the world.
This was a great gig and well received by an enthusiastic audience, but what very few people appreciated was that early the following morning, Joe was going into hospital for throat surgery, and the previous day his cousin had passed away in Chicago. His only acknowledgement of these two concerns was that he took to sitting in a chair for some of the slower numbers in what he likened to ‘an ole bluesman’ sat playing his guitar on the front porch. Thanks for the gig, Joe, all the best for the operation, have a speedy recovery and we’ll see you again soon.
Cliff Tapstand
April 2017
A little more about Joe Jammer:
He was born in Chicago, Illinois, Joseph Edward William Wright II,
When Joe was growing up in Chicago, his father encouraged him to learn to play the guitar and by the time he was 12, he was getting paid to play. At the age of 16 he became roady for Jimmy Hendrix and at 17 he was working for The Who, but the biggest influence on his career came when he became Led Zeppelin’s Equipment Man, and guitar technician for Jimmy Page. While they were touring in the States, Jimmy and Joe were always jamming together. Jimmy used to refer to him as Joe the Jammer, later shortened to Joe Jammer. Joe liked the sound of that and immediately adopted it.
He later came to England with his own band, but things didn’t work out. He was taken on board by Mickie Most, the music producer, and he recorded two studio albums and did a lot of session work for other artists. He also worked as live guitarist for artists such as Supertramp, Screaming Lord Sutch, Stealers Wheel, Donna Summer and Maggie Bell.
After five years he returned to the States, but was back in England in 1974 to tour with Maggie Bell.
Ironically, Joe freely acknowledges that it was while he was in London that he came to appreciate the music of his home town, Chicago Blues.
Photography by Pat Stancliffe
She Wears Scented Rose
Written and directed by Yasir Senna
Razorsharp Productions
Theatro Technis, London.
SPOILER ALERT: Beware: this review is full of spoilers.
A man runs in. He is bleeding from the stomach. As he calls for an ambulance he collapses on the street. Luckily, he survives. As he heals from his ordeal, Mark (played by a charismatic Craig Karpel) tells his family and the detective on his case how he was stabbed by a young man in an attempted carjacking. However, things are not as simple as they seem.
I’ll just dive right into it. Yasir Senna has written a successful play in that the plot works well. It follows the pattern and style of a movie thriller with some good twists and turns and enough red herrings to keep you guessing. Looking back on it, I understand a lot of what Senna was trying to do. Character behaviour I questioned at the time makes more sense now. It’s like when you watch crime show for the second time, and you pick up on all the hints you missed the first time round.
The dialogue though could do with a trim. One could easily get ten minutes off by tightening the exposition, the direction and the set changes. Scenes drag due to repetitive dialogue and moments are milked for too long. It kills of the tension. The line between tense and funny is very fine and She Wears Scented Rose falters on that line a little too often. The characters aren’t the deepest or most well rounded, but they get the job done. Played to an L-shaped audience, the set designed by Wendy Parry is simple and effective. She makes good use of key props and set pieces to create a variety of locations. Lighting by Leo Bacica is pretty straightforward, but the scene between David and his daughter Sadie bathed in blue really stood out as a beautiful image.
But this brings me to my biggest issue of the evening. Maestro, some ranting music if you please. (Again, huge spoiler alert)
The revelation of Sadie as the lover and stabber was excellent. I had barely given her a second thought after her initial appearance. My money was on the wife. During the revelation scene, it becomes clear that Mark is in fact a manipulative and dangerous sexual predator. The revelation of his true nature could have been such a great double twist: he might have been the one stabbed but he is actually the villain! This might well have been what Senna was going for, but it is squandered. How is it squandered you ask? Sadie: she is the victim here, but for some reason she is portrayed as nothing more than the paper-thin trope of a deranged woman mad with jealousy ala in Fatal Attraction with a dash of Poison Ivy. She begs, threatens, and rubs up against Mark wearing a school uniform and pigtails. This is not Charlotte Campbell, who plays Sadie’s fault. She does what she can and commits to what she has been given.
Sure, Sadie is (just) over the age of consent, but it is hard to believe that Mark has not been grooming Sadie for a long time (as the detective noted as well). He is an older family friend- a figure of trust- and he wilfully and intentionally took advantage of a young girl. The dialogue reveals as much. And when Sadie finally threatens to tell, what does he do? He pulls groomer trick no.101: ‘you really think your father will believe you over me? His best friend?’ When that doesn’t work, he gets violent. A grown man repeatedly chocking a seventeen-year-old girl. This should be horrifying, but because Sadie is written as such a stereotype, it just becomes ridiculous. What we end up with is a predator and an emotionally unstable cliché with a pair of scissors. Just who are we supposed to sympathise with here? Both? Neither?
The answer is David. As Sadie’s father and Mark’s best friend, Simon Ryerson, as David, does most of the emotional heavy lifting. His character throughout the piece is the most genuine and most engaging and Ryerson carries it well. I really shouldn’t enjoy the thought of someone being brutally murdered, but the last fifteen minutes of the play was mostly spent mentally willing David to just grab the cricket bat and have at it already. Verity, Mark’s patient but assertive wife, is well portrayed by Niki Mylonas, as is DI Kane played by Rosalie Carn. Michael Mayne might only have one scene as private eye Denly, but he steals the show with the time is given.
Overall, I found She Wears Scented Rose frustrating. There is so much lost potential and so many missed opportunities here. Senna has all the pieces needed to create not just an entertaining thriller, but a story that could really explore some genuinely discomforting topics such as consent, gender politics, sexuality, and masculinity. Unfortunately, we stay in the realm of safe and familiar clichés of sexy psychological thrillers. Corners are cut and decisions veer towards what is easy instead of what could have been really daring. Dare I say it, be even more ambitious and bold and Senna will have something really great in his hands.
Melissa Syversen
April 2017
Junkyard
by Jack Thorne, music by Stephen Warbeck
Co-Production by Headlong, Bristol Old Vic, RTK and Theatr Clwyd
at The Rose Theatre, Kingston until 30th April
Review by Mark Aspen
Junkyard, as a musical, is totally frank about itself, as frank as it raw-edged characters, very much what you see is what you get, an honesty of approach. Its characters are social misfits, even in the sink estate underclass of Bristol’s roughest areas in the late 1970’s where they live and go to school. Even amongst the adolescents, their experience of the world is poverty, prison, pregnancy.
The musical was initially conceived by Headlong, a young company grounded in Bristol itself, and its three co-producers are the three theatres that have hosted its tour, Bristol Old Vic on home ground, Theatr Clwyd up on the Dee, and The Rose Theatre, in genteel Kingston. So, what will the burghers of Kingston make of it? My guess is that it will be a Marmite production for them: love it or hate it. If you like your musicals to be a sweet, sunny and serene singalong then Junkyard is probably not for you, but do go along before the end of the month to the Rose Theatre, for in this new musical you will find humanity and humour bursting forth from a bleak landscape, like fireweed on a refuse tip.
For the teenagers at Lockleaze, school is an irrelevant bore; they are heading for that prison, for poverty or, as Debbie, now slightly older, puts it “making the same mistakes as Mum”, since she is pregnant and there are a number candidates for the dad. Apathy reigns, and there is nobody to rescue them from becoming underachieving, underprivileged underdogs … or is there? Enter Rick, a new teacher, unconventional: long hair, wide flares, big heart. He is a Londoner, from Walthamstow (inspired by author Jack Thorne’s own father, Mick from Walthamstow) who in his youth “built dams all over Hackney”. His idea is to build an adventure playground from old timber, left over materials, junk. At first he is “Rick the Prick” but with sheer tenacity he breaks down their reluctance to being part of such an un-cool project, and all too slowly fires up their imagination.
Set designer, Chiara Stephenson, has created a set which smacks of the anarchic statement of the story’s adventure playground, looming, grey, wreathed in fog. Precariously shape-shifting as the play develops, it changes with the action, during its construction, its vicissitudes of arson and vandalism, its aborted demolition. This structure, “The Vench”, is the overarching symbol in the musical. It represents what is needed to bring stability to the lives of these broken young people: something to strive for, something to own, something to create; and it is also symbolic of the relationships that every one of the characters, including the adults, is trying, unsuccessfully to build. In all cases, this relationship building is frustrated, and the attempts to build the relationship are awkward.
As the central mover of the plot, Rick is the white knight and his shinning armour is his own dogged determination. Calum Callaghan’s portray of Rick is warm, natural and affecting, showing even Rick’s strong resolve to be dented by adversities which undermine his confidence to start a new career. Unwittingly, he becomes the unwelcome centre of attraction to both one of his young protégés, Fiz, who wants to snog him, and her Mum, for whom hospitals make her “horny” (!). Lisa Palfrey as Mum has a fierce bounding affection for all her charges: a warm but unlikely matriarch.
![l-r_Scarlett_Brookes_(Debbie),_Lisa_Palfrey_(Mum),_Erin_Doherty_(Fiz)_@Manuel_Harlan[1]](https://markaspen.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/l-r_scarlett_brookes_debbie_lisa_palfrey_mum_erin_doherty_fiz_manuel_harlan1.jpg?w=497)
Her son, Ginger, is the “sort-em-out” toughy, but easily wound up and, in the event, as vulnerable as them all. Played by Josef Davies as a gentle giant, we see through his bravado (manifest in his never-to-be-used weapon of a sack of six-inch nails swinging on a stick) to the fractured character underneath. Her elder daughter, Debbie, she of the unknown inseminator, is in the dichotomous position of being the cement that binds the group, whist being the excluded outsider. Her depiction by Scarlett Brookes was pitched in just the right place. (Incidentally, her burgeoning bump as her pregnancy advanced through the months of the action was nice attention to detail for Emma Ntinas’ wardrobe.)
![Erin_Doherty_as_Fiz_@Manuel_Harlan[1]](https://markaspen.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/erin_doherty_as_fiz_manuel_harlan1.jpg?w=497)
It is however, Mum’s younger daughter Fiz who is the principal focus of the plot. Erin Doherty fairly zipped along in this part, words tumbling enthusiastically from her (perhaps too fast for many of the undiscerning older ears in the audience), her energy unflagging. She dealt with cannonades of the F-word and C-word with a broad smile that would disarm even the most priggish listener. Fiz is the natural leader of the group and they become lost and purposeless when she is severely injured by intruders in the adventure playground. Fiz also acts as a narrator, who confides with the audience at the beginning of the show, “We’re a bunch of junk” and, with self-deprecating candour at the end tells the audience “We’ve been junk, you’ve been lovely. Thanks for coming to watch us play”.
If all this seems coarse and unfit for your maiden aunt, it is; but it has great moments of insight and even beauty. Particularly touching, is the role of Talc, so-called at his own admission because of “a B O issue”. He is a fractured soul, who speaks lovingly of his rough-diamond aunt, who introduced him to the seaside. The transience of sandcastles becomes a metaphor for his own life, for what he builds is lost. His aunt took her own life, because of a “blackbird in her head”. Talc cannot tell Fiz that he loves her, except when she is in hospital in a coma. Enyi Okoronkwo in this role, reveals the gentle, patient and accepting nature of Talc in a nicely understated way.
The image of a blackbird runs through the more lyrical moments in the songs and music. Fiz sings of the blackbird that is sitting on a post. However, Warbeck’s score has just the occasional flashes of lyricism in a musicscape that is mostly ska-based, loud and uncompromising. Nevertheless it ranges quite widely from discordant passages to melodic emotion. Akintayo Akinbode’s musical direction is inventive, as are some of the instruments, one a guitar interwoven into the springs of a bed-base as a sounding board.
There are no brilliant singers in this musical, many voices are in talk-along mode, but somehow all this fits with the rough-edged attack of the plot. The songs work best when they are sung as an ensemble, and the cast has clearly grown together as a voice. The result is a high-energy, in-yer-face, musical offering, but one that is fun. It seems in some parts of the show almost to be spontaneous.
The awkward nature of adolescent identity-seeking and of nascent sexual feelings is accurately shown by the supporting cast, Enyi Okoronko as Tilly, Jack Riddiford as Higgy and Ciaran Alexander Stewart as Loppy. In a well-defined cameo role, Kevin McMonagle as the headmaster, Malcolm, torn better propriety and empathy, complements with equal energy a cast at least half his age.
Malcolm, even from his lofty position as head teacher, has to admit that The Vench is “imaginative, inspirational and intriguing”. When it is threatened with demolition, as a hazard made more so by malignant intruders, Malcolm is clearly torn, but he has to go along with the school governors’ position that the site would be better served by a maths block. (There were over 500 adventure playgrounds in England and Wales in 1970. There are now just over a fifth of that number, the rest having fallen to the demands of health and safety, political correctness, and civic penury.)
Mum says of Fiz and her commitment to their adventure playground, “She’s never fought for anything before”. For the young people of Junkyard, The Vench fires the imagination and shows them previously unimagined possibilities. “It is a ship. It is a spider”, they sing. The Ship certainly takes them on a journey and The Spider becomes a rallying point. The Spider is a fifteen-foot tall tripod of timber, secured by a used tyre, and flying a black flag pieced with image of an arachnoid. The Spider is rebuilt time and time again as a symbol of defiance.
The group may have made these structures, full of wonder in their own imaginations, but as they ultimately say, “It made us”.
Mark Aspen
April 2017
Photography by Manuel Harlan
Black Chiffon
by Lesley Storm
SMDG at St Mary’s Hall, Hampton, 6th to 8th April
Review by Didie Bucknall
Despite turning ninety, Jean Wood is still going strong as ever. Her direction of another winner for St Mary’s Drama Group of Black Chiffon by Lesley Storm was this time staged ‘in the round’ at the newly refurbished St Mary’s Community Hall.
Stage direction of a play ‘in the round’ needs much careful planning to ensure that no one seat in the audience affords better vantage view than another. This can lead to the actors having to make quite restless movements to change positions but, in the case of this play, the restlessness served to indicate the underlying unease of the characters. The lack of walls and windows, though integral to the plot, are left to the viewers’ imagination which, again, serves the play well.
Black Chiffon it is a play which requires very strong actors, and these it most certainly had. The central character brilliantly played by Mandy Stenhouse as a mother struggling to come to terms with the forthcoming marriage and departure from the family home of her adored son with whom she has developed a strong bond, was movingly and powerful shown. Her son, still nursing huge anger and resentment against his father who, on his return from the war, had roughly displaced his son’s entrusted role as ‘man of the house’, was sensitively played by James Henry. The blustering assertive father played by Keith Wait was excellently portrayed. Here was a man who thought that money could buy him whatever he pleased; in this case the services of an eminent doctor to prove that his wife was not of sound mind when she shoplifted from a local department store. Unfortunately, whilst probing into the disturbed mind of his patient, the doctor reveals unexpected hidden psychological depths. The doctor was very plausibly played by Charles Halford with an air of quiet competence and authority. Sue McMillan as the long suffering Nannie, loyal retainer and maid-of-all-works anxiously strove to keep the family calm and carry on in spite of the increasingly puzzling turn of events. Katie Rainbow as the happy fiancée and unwitting cause of her future mother-in-law’s distress and Catherine de Roure as the married daughter of the family were in refreshing contrast to the build-up of underlying family tensions. It is great to see SMDG attracting more younger people to their company which will mean that they can tackle a wider choice of plays.
A good backstage crew provided the set, lighting, sound, costumes and props, all of which combined to make a thoroughly enjoyable production.
Jean Wood is not resting on her laurels. We can look forward to another play under her direction later on this year.
Didie Bucknall
April 2017
Photography by Christina Bulford
Editor’s Note:
See also: Something Unnatural? Black Chiffon
The Juniper Tree
by Philip Glass and Robert Moran, libretto Arthur Yorinks
UK Premiere
Helen Astrid at The Hammond Theatre 30th and 31st March
Review by Mark Aspen
Can these bones live? Ezekiel asks … Was there ever a more optimistic question?
It is the question posed and answered in the old German folktale in the Brothers Grimm collection, The Juniper Tree, one of the darkest, but arguably one of the most beautiful of the tales.
The darkness could not be more intense: child cruelty, filicide, cannibalism, but neither could the beauty be more essential: transformation, redemption, reincarnation. And here is a melting pot seething with symbolism.
Then, to concentrate the potency of this mixture add the music of Philip Glass, with its ostentatious ostinato, tempered by the sublime expressiveness of his collaborator, Robert Moran, and one has all the ingredients of a remarkable opera.
Strange then that since its world premiere in 1985, it has never before been performed in this country. Enter the enterprising opera expert, Helen Astrid, who secured the rights to the UK premiere. Her unusual choice of venue was a local one: The Hammond Theatre at Hampton. And so this story of hellish horrors but lacerating beauty found its way to the operatically unbeaten tracks of the borough.
The story is the biography and supra-biography of The Son (note the significant capitalisation), killed by his Step-Mother, who decapitates him with the sharp edge of a heavy trunk from which she offers him an apple. She disposes of his body by dismembering it and making it into a pie, which is then eaten by his unsuspecting father. However, his bones are rescued by his sister, who hides them under a juniper tree where his mother is buried. From the tree he is reincarnated as a white bird which visits retribution on the Step-Mother, crushing her neck with a millstone. He is then resurrected as The Son.
In presenting this play in the run-up to Easter, the Christian message of the resurrection of The Son, who is killed for the sins of another, is boldly underlined. However, there are shadows of many cultural references in the piece, the transformations of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Greek mythology (Cronus or Tantalus for instance) and even Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus. Nevertheless, in this cornucopia of symbolism, it is the Biblical references that predominate: the living bones of Ezekiel, the temptation of Eve with the Apple, the Holy Spirit appearing as a dove, and the reference to a millstone round the neck in St Luke.
In Helen Astrid’s production, director Donna Stirrup has conceived remarkable symbolic images, many from the clever use of movement choreography. At the opera’s opening, a queue of young girls each takes an apple from a basket and passes it to another in a concatenation of corruption affecting innocence. As a former English National Opera staff director, Stirrup may be drawing inspiration from movement choreographers such as Joyce Henderson. However the most striking use of this technique was in the re-incarnation of The Son’s bones as a huge bird. Lifting black-light dance routines, common in pantomime, and elevating them to a fine-art form, lighting designer Daniel Dar-Nell has created an amazingly beautiful picture. Invisible dancers, each holding a florescent bone, recreated the flowing of the bird’s wings, as it flew to the lyrical sounds of the Glass-Moran score.
“My mother she killed me, my father he ate me, my little sister gathered my bones, what a beautiful bird am I”, sings The Son. This is true in the imagery, but also in the accurate and silvered tones of the treble, Angus Whitworth, whose acting spoke of the trusting innocence and vulnerability of childhood.
He is the “child as red as blood”, in the words of his mother, The Wife who dies in childbirth. Played with a defenceless simplicity, soprano Rebecca Moon instilled the part with a sense of poignancy, reinforced in the depiction of death coming as veiled silent figures who bore her away.
Rebbecca Moon as The Wife Photograph by Stephanie
James Corrigan, as The Husband, formed a figure of constancy, whose rich baritone voice supported an affecting characterisation of steadfastness. When he re-marries it is to The Step Mother, an evil archetype. Mezzo-soprano, Mariya Krywanluk has a remarkably responsive singing voice, but in this role her acting was exceptional. Each glance was as sharp as her butcher’s knife and each move would make the bravest cringe in fear.
Mariya Krywanluk as Step-Mother Photograph by Stephanie
The Step-Mother frets that The Son, “must remind him of her”. The favouring their daughter and her abuses and cruelty to her step-son eventually lead to his murder. But, in contrast, her Daughter is sweetly sympathetic. Lia Tynan’s portrayal of this role put across the uncomfortable dichotomy of the character. As The Husband unknowingly strips the flesh with lip-smacking relish from his own son’s bones, The Daughter collects them in her apron and respectfully lays them in secret at his mother’s grave under the juniper tree.
Following the miraculous transmutation of his bones into the beautiful bird, its song enthrals three tradesmen, The Goldsmith, sung by the mahogany-voiced bass Andrew Beardsley; The Cobbler, the lively baritone Joshua Baxter; and the animated tenor, Philip Meir, playing The Miller. These tradesmen are so captivated by its song that they respectively give the bird a gold watch, a pair of kid leather shoes, and a millstone.
Soprano Philippa Murray, as a nicely figured Mama Bird, and an adult and a child chorus beautifully complemented the performers. The music is a collaboration between Philip Glass and Robert Moran, and they initially composed separately, but by hinting at each other’s themes, their creations blend beautifully into an homogenous whole. Conductor, Andy Langley skilfully interpreted the juxtaposition of Glass’s relentlessly building and developing counterpoint alongside Moran’s melodic musical matrix. Although it did occasionally overpower the voices, particularly of the children, the size and acoustic of the Hammond auditorium has proved just right for Langley’s sixteen piece chamber orchestra.
And so the symbolism is complete. The Goldsmith’s gold watch redeems The Husband, constant as a father. The Cobbler’s kid leather shoes reconciles The Daughter. Yet The Miller’s millstone wreaks vengeance on The Step-Mother, breaking her neck and delivering us from evil.
Can these bones live? Ezekiel asks. The optimistic answer to the optimistic question is yes, they can. It is through the triumph of good over evil: the resurrection that is the quintessence of Easter.
Mark Aspen
April 2017
Mark Aspen 