John Smith and Katherine Priddy: “Quietly lovely”. All pictures: Paul Rhodes
ANYONE expecting fireworks may have chosen the wrong evening.
So often over the years, this reviewer has been left mulling on what if the performers on the same bill actually played together? The folk world seems more into this swing of things, through necessity and perhaps companionship on the road.
While the prospect of this joint concert between the highly regarded John Smith and rising folk star Katherine Priddy was enough to set sparks flying, the show was rather muted.
That isn’t to say it wasn’t quietly lovely. Priddy, in particular, has the gift of a lovely voice and melodies that feel timeless. With Smith providing extra steel guitar, the two created a beautiful sound that had the sell-out crowd applauding loudly from the start.
The fireworks that were on offer were of the indoor kind. Like in Elvis Costello’s song of that title, Smith’s material was situated in the domestic seam, once star-crossed lovers dealing with relentless normality.
A new tune, Lily, written with the great Joe Henry, bodes well for his next album. Smith has an everyman appeal, and his material expertly, without fuss or fancy, deals with very relatable subjects.
Katherine Priddy: “The gift of a lovely voice and melodies that feel timeless”
Priddy’s songs do too, although her subject matter is sometimes many centuries old. This Eng Lit graduate has used her love of classical literature to craft at least two fine songs, with Eurydice the pick of the two.
From the between-song tuning chats, Priddy sounds like she has packed in plenty of song-worthy experiences that hopefully can be played out over a long career.
The two voices blended well, although Smith had picked up a cold, so his normally smoky warm burr was more of a gentle breeze. This was not a Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood, or Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan study in contrasts.
Combined with a setlist that was pitched mostly at the same pace and on similar subjects, the evening was missing a note or two of variety. Priddy picked up on this, and they included her up-tempo Letters From A Travelling Man, which showcased Smith’s flair for country picking.
Over 14 songs and 100 minutes, the pair made a warm impression. Nestled in the lovely atmosphere of Selby Town Hall, it felt as though they were among friends. For an encore, they played their new single, a cover of The McGarrigle Sisters’ Talk To Me Of Mendocino (from Kate and Anna’s perfect 1976 debut album).
Priddy did a wonderful job with Kate’s song, her voice masterfully conveying a powerful yearning for home. By then we didn’t want them to leave, but the tour must roll on.
Review by Paul Rhodes
Take a bow: John Smith and Katherine Priddy at the finale
Ian McIntosh’s Deco and Eve Kitchingman’s Natalie , left, Ciara Mackey’s Imelda and Sarah Gardiner’s Bernie, the not-shy-in-coming-forward backing singers in The Commitments. Picture: Ellie Kurttz
THE Commitments are back on the road in a hit-laden celebration of the bonding powers of soul music, and no-one could be more delighted than creator Roddy Doyle.
“The original stage show in 2013 was a brilliant experience from my point of view,” says the Irish writer. “It stayed in the West End for over two years, then it went on a successful tour.”
Five years on, The Commitments will be touring Britain and Ireland from late-September to July 2023. Next stop: Grand Opera House, York, from November 7 to 12.
Nigel Pivaro, forever associated with playing lovable rogue Terry Duckworth in Coronation Street from 1983 to 2012, takes the pivotal role of Da, Jimmy Rabbitte’s father, while Andrew Linnie, sax player Dean in the original West End production and later Jimmy Rabbitte on tour, is in the director’s seat.
For the West End premiere, Roddy lived in London for 12 weeks, looking on at rehearsals every day, doing daily rewrites. “I attended every preview and then the meetings the next day as we discussed what was and wasn’t working,” he recalls. “My role this time round has been less vital, although sitting in on the read-through with the new cast was just terrific.”
Irish writer Roddy Doyle. Picture: Anthony Woods
Has he felt emotional returning to his first work of fiction, a novel penned in 1987 and then adapted for the screen in 1991 by director Alan Parker, with a screenplay co-written by Doyle, recounting the rise and fall of a young, working-class soul band in Dublin?
“It’s brought back a lot of memories, yes. I was a geography and English teacher at the time when I wrote the novel. I wanted an excuse to bring a bunch of young people together in book form and capture the rhythm of Dublin kids yapping and teasing and bullying,” Roddy says.
“But I needed to find a setting outside school and that’s when the idea of a band came to me. A big band with a brass section and backing vocals, as opposed to three or four young men that was the norm back then.”
Roddy has resisted the temptation to update the setting from the 1980s. “The vibrancy is still there but so is the tension caused by lack of communication. For instance, will Deco, the obnoxious lead singer, turn up on time? These days, you’d track him down on your mobile in no time at all. But there wasn’t that option in the late ’80s,” he says. “And I chose Sixties’ music – Motown and Memphis soul – because, at the time, it felt timeless. Thirty-five years later, I was right.”
For a long time, Roddy was a teacher who wrote on the side. “I loved teaching and the holidays were great, a time when I got into the habit of writing. I wrote The Commitments in 1986, it was published the following year, and I was working on the screenplay in 1988. But I was still teaching up until 1993,” he says.
James Killeen’s Jimmy Rabbitte and Ciara Mackey’s Imelda in The Commitments. Picture: Ellie Kurttz
The Snapper and The Van followed in 1990 and 1991 respectively, joining The Commitments in what became known as the Barrytown Trilogy. Then, in 1993, Roddy hit the jackpot when Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, his novel about a rumbunctious ten-year-old in a north Dublin suburb in 1968, won the prestigious Booker Prize.
“I was delighted,” says Roddy, who was 35 at the time. “It was a great compliment, although I can’t remember what I said in my acceptance speech. But I do recall then being taken away to be interviewed when all I really wanted to do was get back to the table and share the moment with my wife and publisher.
“But it felt as if I’d instantly become public property, and I didn’t like it. What I wanted more than anything was to go back to Ireland and live as near a normal life as possible. I deliberately continued to use public transport, for example. But now, almost 30 years later, I can take it in my stride.”
Pick up any of Doyle’s early books, in particular, and you could almost be reading a screenplay. “That’s true. I think that the best way of establishing characters is to get them talking. That’s especially true of The Commitments – and it gave me a template which I used for some years. The fact is, we talk a lot in Ireland.”
Roddy has an attic office in his home where he writes, but since the lifting of lockdown, he has acquired a room in the city centre where he will tap away too. “At one level, I was asking myself why I’d want another office, but it struck me as a good idea to get out of the house and walk around and experience Dublin opening up, coming alive again. It’s been really interesting,” he says.
Seeing the funny side …or not: Coronation Street alumnus Nigel Pivaro’s Jimmy Da, left, and James Killeen’s Jimmy Rabbitte. Picture: Ellie Kurttz
“Also, my three children are grown up now and no longer living at home, so I’m not surrounded by the rhythm of their speech.”
Roddy takes a disciplined approach to work, usually writing from nine until six each day. “But I’ve become a bit more relaxed as I’ve got older,” he says. “There’s nothing quite as nice as going to see a film at the cinema in daylight, and I never don’t feel guilty.”
Whatever came afterwards, The Commitments will always hold a special place in Roddy’s heart for the simple reason that it was his first published book. He is fond, too, of The Woman Who Walked Into Doors, wherein narrator Paula, after a litany of domestic abuse, realises that her husband, Charlo, has been interfering with their daughter and duly brings down a frying pan on his head?
“I’d found it really hard to write in the first person as a woman,” reveals Roddy. “It took a long time to find Paula’s voice. I also had little or no experience of violence or of physical pain. But into the second year, it began to flow really well.”
Even so, he worried whether he had written something authentic. In 1994, he had penned the four-part series Family for the BBC, featuring Paula and her immediate circle. “When it was broadcast in Ireland, it caused an absolute storm,” he recalls. “It was condemned by the Catholic church. Where were the songs from The Commitments? Where was the laughter? There wasn’t any.”
“The best way of establishing characters is to get them talking. That’s especially true of The Commitments,” says Roddy Doyle. Pictured here are 2022-2023 cast members Sarah Gardiner, left, Ian McIntosh, Conor Litten, James Killeen, Ciara Mackey and Michael Mahony. Picture: Ellie Kurttz
Then Roddy was contacted by Women’s Aid, who had heard he was writing the book. “When I’d finished, I gave them the manuscript, which they then distributed among ten women who’d been through abusive relationships,” he says.
“A few weeks later, I went to a meeting to listen to their reaction. I sat down, the only man in the room, and kind of held my breath. The person in charge asked if anyone wanted to say anything. ‘Yes,’ said the woman in front of me. ‘How did you get inside my bleeping head?’ It’s the best review I’ve ever had in my life.”
At 64, Roddy remains prolific, chalking up 12 novels, three collections of stories, eight books for children and a book he co-wrote with Irish footballer Roy Keane, The Second Half. He has written the plays Brownbread and Guess Who’s Coming For The Dinner and co-adapted The Woman Who Walked Into Doors with Joe O’Byrne, as well as his stage adaptation for The Commitments. He also wrote the screenplays for The Snapper, The Van, Family and When Brendan Met Trudy.
Retirement seems unlikely. Indeed, Roddy was once quoted as saying that he hoped to die mid-sentence. “Well,” he says, “It might be nice to get to a full stop.”
The Commitments, Grand Opera House, York, November 7 to 12, 7.30pm; 2.30pm, Wednesday and Saturday matinees. Box office: 0844 871 7615 or atgtickets.com/york.
The tour poster for The Commitments’ travels in 2022-2023
No hidden meanings: Everything is in black and white in Mark Thomas’s new show. Picture: Tony Pletts
MARK Thomas, the grouchy godfather of British political comedy, is taking down politicians, mucking about, offering new ideas and finding hope in his new tour show, Black And White.
At Leeds City Varieties Music Hall tomorrow night (3/11/2022) and The Crescent, York, on Tuesday, he asks: How did we get here? What are we going to do about it? Who’s up for a sing-song?
“After lockdowns and isolation, this is a show about the simple act of being in a room together and toppling international capitalism,” says Londoner Mark, veteran alternative comedian, television and radio presenter, satirist, journalist and purveyor of political stunts on Channel 4’s The Mark Thomas Comedy Product.
He is heading out on the road after this summer’s sold-out Edinburgh Fringe run at The Stand Comedy Club elicited such reviews as: “seething, righteous and largely evidenced anger”… “incandescent critique of UK and world politics”… “his ire is something to behold”.
Here comes doubting Thomas, putting everything in Black And White in a turbulent world, but why give the tour that tagline? “Because it matches the tour poster!” he reasons. “A mate of mine took the photo, and then an artist called Tracey Mobley put it through a computer that turned it into a drawing. It looked amazing!
“So, when they said you need a name for the show – where I’m just going to muck about – I thought, let’s call it ‘Black And White’. But if you want to go for an ideological understanding of it, I guess it’s got to the point where it’s all of us against the one per cent, where this economic Ponzi scheme isn’t working for us and it’s got to change.”
Mark is up and running now. “Liz Truss espoused the free market, as a willing supporter of the Tufton Street think tanks, which means big responsibilities for human beings, but no responsibilities for businesses. Now she’s gone, Sunak is in, but it’s not even a U-turn.
“It’s like, ‘how much s**t do you want to take? 100 per cent or 99 per cent?’, then 99 per cent is what it will be. What communities need to do is build up resistance.”
How, Mark? “I wouldn’t want to tell people how to do it because they’re the ones doing it,” he says. “There are loads of people doling stuff. Some are doing food banks. There’s a brilliant centre in Sheffield that helps asylum seekers and refugees, The Sanctuary.
“They do English classes, IT classes, help with legal matters, as well as hot meals and advice. It’s a fantastic place just doing its best to help the community.
The poster image of Mark Thomas that prompted his tour title, Black And White
“Then there are community pubs. They’re the things that’ll keep going. That’s the kind of stuff I love, that really excites me. Like my football club, AFC Wimbledon, winning the community club of the year award, making sure it’s embedded in the club. Trade unions, communities, that’s what we have to support.”
In past shows, Mark has discussed visiting the West Bank and Jenin; lobbying Parliament; walking in the footsteps of the highest NHS officials; playing at the Royal Opera House; “making stuff” for TV, radio and newspapers and going undercover.
Black And White promises “creative fun”, or mucking about, if you prefer. “My favourite playwright is Bertolt Brecht, dear old Bertolt Brecht [the 20th century German theatre practitioner, playwright and poet]. I went to his house…he wasn’t in,” says Mark.
“What was fascinating about him, I remember seeing his play The Caucasian Chalk Circle at 15, and it changed my mind, which is one of the cornerstones of theatre, that you can go to a show and have your mind changed.
“Brecht always talked about creative fun, creative dissent, like those climate protestors throwing soup at Van Gogh’s Sunflowers painting at the National Gallery. The point being that people were really, really shocked by it, and it was only afterwards that they realised nothing was destroyed.
“It led to more thinking about how we need to have discussions about climate change, how we discuss it and how we may bring about change. In 100 years, no-one will remember a petition, but they will remember dangerous and creative acts because that’s the stuff that’s genuinely upsetting.
”Look at the Suffragettes. They burnt buildings, smashed windows, went on hunger strike. It was a mass movement with masses of acts of defiance. Women were being force-fed when they were on hunger strike. They brought about change.”
What new ideas for change is Mark proposing. “Nationalising the banks,” he says off the cuff. Unlikely, surely? “It doesn’t matter if it’s likely now. It’s about starting the conversation and then it might become reality,” Mark asserts.
“We need to have much more devolved power, given to communities. Proportional representation. Voting at 16. Why shouldn’t someone of 16 have the right to vote? Politics and history are the things that give people agency.”
Mark Thomas: Putting forward new ideas and finding hope in his new comedy tour de force. Picture: Tony Pletts
Where might we find hope, Mark? “Hope is a precious commodity, but there’s a difference between optimism and hope. Just don’t give me false optimism,” he says. “Defiance is the bedrock of hope.
“If you destroy a statue, you can get ten years in jail. That means a statue has more rights of protection than women. That’s nuts.”
Mark is on a roll again. “I voted Remain for one reason, and that’s because I thought a vote for Leave would increase racism and I won’t vote for that,” he says. “But once the vote has happened, that’s the vote, that’s it. Now we need to have a conversation about Brexit, how it’s working out , and what we might do about it in the future.
“Now everyone is feeling the pinch of stagnation and austerity, but all Brexiteers will stand up to say is they’re for sovereignty.
“I hope what we’re going through is the high water mark and this is our time for change. It might not be the high water mark, but one thing is for sure: I love that Bob Crow quote: ‘If you fight, you won’t always win, but if you don’t fight, you will always lose’.”
That fighting spirit permeates through Black And White: “The show is about being rude,” says Mark. “Shouting, mucking about, looking at what communities can do, celebrating us and defiance.”
As ever, Mark Thomas promises “I’ll be around, I’ll help” with his political ire, his zeal for change. How will he mark turning 60 on April 11 next year. “I’ll get my London bus pass and go on the longest route I can,” he says.
Mark Thomas: Black And White, Leeds City Varieties Music Hall, tomorrow, 8pm; The Crescent, York, November 8, 8pm; King’s Hall and Winter Gardens, Ilkley, November 9, 8pm. Box office: Leeds, leedsheritagetheatres.com; York, thecrescentyork.seetickets.com; Ilkley, bradford-theatres.co.uk. Age guidance: 16 plus.
YORK Musical Society will give a dramatic performance of Sir Karl Jenkins’s powerful work The Armed Man: A Mass For Peace at York Minster on November 19 with full orchestra and soloists.
YMS last performed this contemporary composition to a capacity audience in 2015, and its sentiment of “Better is peace than always war” is resonant anew in 2022.
To mark the transition to the new millennium in 2000, the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds commissioned Jenkins to compose a work that looks forward with hope to a peaceful future after “the most war-torn and destructive century in human history”. However, the world is once again witness to much conflict, none more so than the present war in Ukraine.
Jenkins worked closely with Guy Wilson, Master of the Armouries at the time, to select the texts to be set to music in The Armed Man. Extracts of sacred texts from different world religions, including The Bible, the Mahabharata and the Islamic call to prayer, were combined with four parts of the Christian Latin Mass: Kyrie, Sanctus, Agnus Dei and Benedictus.
Words are also drawn from several secular sources, such as texts by Dryden, Tennyson, Rudyard Kipling and Japanese poet Toge Sankichi. Jenkins also combines a variety of musical styles to create what was to become a hugely successful and widely performed work.
To complement Jenkins’s Mass For Peace, YMS will perform Joseph Haydn’s Mass In Time Of War – Missa In Tempore Belli, also known as Paukenmesse (Kettle Drum Mass in German), due to its kettle drum solo.
Baritone soloist Thomas Humphreys
Haydn composed this work in 1796 during turbulent times, when his homeland of Austria was threatened with invasion by Napoleon Bonaparte. Nevertheless, this Mass, commissioned for Princess Maria Josepha of the Estaházy family, is often joyful and lyrical in tone.
The soloists will be soprano Ella Taylor, mezzo-soprano Chloe Latchmore, tenor Greg Tassell and baritone Thomas Humphreys. Ella is a former BBC Chorister of the Year with a passion for performing contemporary music; Yorkshire-born Chloe sang as a soloist with YMS for Bach’s St John Passion at York Minster in 2019; Greg sang the role of the roasting swan in Orff’s Carmina Burana for YMS at York Barbican in 2011; Thomas sings regularly with premier British choirs and orchestras and widely in opera too.
The Muezzin, who proclaims the Islamic call to prayer, will be Ustadh Mohamad Douba, an active member of York Mosque and Islamic Centre. He has been involved in York Welcomes Refugees, the association that gives sanctuary to those fleeing war and conflict.
York Musical Society’s musical director, David Pipe, says: “We’ve enjoyed exploring these contrasting works over the last two months. Karl Jenkins’s The Armed Man has become a modern classic, marrying a huge range of texts with an equally extensive range of musical styles.
“Haydn’s Missa In Tempore Belli, despite its military overtones, has an undeniable sense of optimism, sending the listener out on a wave of jubilant trumpet and drum fanfares.”
Tickets for this 7.30pm concert are on sale at the York Theatre Royal box office, on 01904 623568, at yorktheatreroyal.co.uk and will be available on the door too. Prices: £25, £20, £12; students/under 18s,£6; children under 13, accompanied by a paying adult, free admission.
“I hadn’t realised how much I missed performing live,” says Harry Hill as he returns to touring after nine years
HARRY Hill, comedian, TV show host, writer, actor, artist and former doctor, is playing his first tour in nine years, promising absurdist Pedigree Fun! at the Grand Opera House, York, tomorrow night.
It was there that he last appeared in York, squeezing everything into Sausage Time in February 2013 after another long lull between tours since Hooves in 2006.
From Harry Hill’s TV Burp to You’ve Been Framed voiceovers and Junior Bake Off, Harry has been a fixture on the TV, but his brand of manic mayhem, slapstick comedy with daft props, pop culture send-ups, pertinent observational satire, daft songs and surrealist wit, always just too quick for the crowd, utterly suits the live arena.
“I hadn’t realised how much I missed performing live until lockdown stopped me from doing it,” says Harry, who turned 58 on October 1. “It’s great to be going back on stage and the good news is I’m planning a very silly show.”
A show with “brand-new amazing jokes in an all-singing, all-dancing one-man spectacular” with regular sidekick Stouffer The Cat, Harry’s new baby elephant, Sarah, and Ian, The Information Worm.
“No,” says Harry, correcting that piece of misinformation. “Not Ian.” What? Is the Information Worm worming his way out of the show? “No, he had to be cut. In the theatre no-one could see him. He’s been sacked!”
No tours for nine years, but it was not a case of Harry giving up live comedy. “I’ve never stopped doing stand-up; always doing bits here and there when I wasn’t doing anything else,” he says.
“When I worked as a doctor, I was being told what to do, which I reacted against,” says Harry Hill of his journey into comedy
“I would do ten minutes in clubs around town because that’s how you come up with the jokes till you’ve built up an hour, and then more. The new show is two halves of about 50 minutes because I think two hours is too much of anyone’s time!
“What I try to do is more of the stand-up in the first half with some videos, then it goes up a level in the second half with Gary, my son from my first marriage, coming on.”
Gary, inevitably, takes the form of a dummy. “He’s got Covid, so we have to do a Covid test on stage,” reveals Harry. “Then there’s Sarah, the baby elephant. She won’t have been seen outside London, so she’s fresh and new and very nervous. I’ve rescued her from a circus clown who had a fetish for ears.”
How has his 2022 tour contrasted with his Sausage Time travels? “Well, I’m that much older, and my show is very physical, so I’ve been hobbling to the car after the show out of breath and in a pool of sweat,” says Harry.
“I had planned to get fit for the tour but then I hosted Junior Bake Off, so I put on a little weight with all those cakes.”
The pandemic lockdowns and the loss of his friend, fellow comedian Sean Lock, to cancer in August 2021, sparked Harry’s return to stand-up gigs. “I’d sort of forgotten, the thing that I really like about live comedy is being able to do what I want, which is what first attracted me.
“Whereas when I worked as a doctor, I was being told what to do, which I reacted against. It’s the same with TV, with people saying, ‘No, do it like this’. ‘Don’t do that’.
“My view is that people want to escape the everyday and on a good night, I do achieve that,” says Harry Hill
“The other thing is, and I don’t know if it’s nostalgia, but audiences are more up for it, because, (a), they’re pleased to see you’re bothering, and (b), it’s often the first time they’ve been out to a big gig when people are still nervous.”
Did the NHS put out a request to Harry to revive his medical skills during Covid? “I’m still on the register, and yeah, they approached me. I got an email, like all retired doctors, asking if I would help out, right at the start, when everyone thought it was a chance to play their part.
“So I clicked on this email and the next thing I got was another email, from the General Medical Council, saying, could I start working at the Nightingale Hospital [in London]?
“Well, I was available, but fortunately, because everyone washed their hands and stayed indoors, I was never called on.”
Now Harry is focusing once more on that alternative medicine: laughter, or in his case “a very silly show”. “There are trends in comedy, as with all things, and silliness is coming back, particularly now,” he says. “My view is that people want to escape the everyday and on a good night, I do achieve that.
“I take people on this journey where I say, ‘it’s not a dream’ and we re-set what’s normal for people after what we’ve all been through.”
Part of the pleasure for Harry is enjoying his badinage with dummy Gary in his chair and the unruly Stouffer. “It’s like having an alter-ego psychologically,” he says. “As a kid and as a comedian, I’m a big fan of double acts, and sadly there aren’t really acts like that anymore,” he says.
Fight! Harry Hill’s autobiography, published in 2021
“I was once in a double act, The Hall Brothers, with a friend of mine when we were students. We had a few laughs, but we liked the idea of it more than the work, because it’s hard work being a double act – and it’s only half the money!”
Harry’s autobiography, Fight! Thirty Years Not Quite At The Top, was published last November. What did he learn about himself? “I don’t know about that, but I was surprised by how much I’d got done, how single-minded I was,” he says.
“It wasn’t a psychological study but I learned the most important thing is to enjoy the process, not whether something is a success or a failure.
“It was a tongue-in-cheek title because there is no ‘top’, That’s the thing you discover. If that’s your motivation for success, you’ll find there’s always someone more successful than you.”
Savour the enjoyment of being creative, just as Harry did when his artwork featured in Grayson’s Art Club, iconoclastic artist Grayson Perry’s art-of-the-people series on Channel 4 during lockdown. “That was the best thing on the TV to come out of lockdown,” he says. “My wife [Magda Archer] is an artist and we were invited to his house for dinner. He was just as interesting as he is on the TV.
“I’ve always been interested in the visual side of things.” Witness Harry’s tour brochures, or his trademark attire of brothel creepers, slim-fit suit, elongated collars as if designed by Salvador Dali and a pocketful of pens.
Pedigree Fun! in that rata-tat-tat voice is on its way to York. Welcome back, Harry Hill.
Harry Hill: Pedigree Fun, Grand Opera House, York, November 2, Box office: 0844 871 7615 or atgtickets.com/york
Did you know? Harry Hill’s real name is Matthew Keith Hall.
Nico Darmanin’s Alfredo Germont and Alison Langer’s Violetta Valéry in Opera North’s La Traviata. Picture: Richard H Smith
ALESSANDRO Talevi’s production, first seen in September 2014, returned without any revival director, so we must assume that he took full responsibility for any shortcomings that remained.
To enable the maximum number of performances, the three principals were double-cast, as were the conductors.
We were spared the bacilli behind the all-seeing eye that dogged Violetta’s every move – it began as a moon – but the slow handclap from masked males behind a screen at her death was still there, as tasteless and inexplicable as ever. Was this supposed to be a judgment on the courtesan and her trade or misogyny pure and simple? The Carmen charade at Flora’s party also stayed in, complete with explanatory signs.
Fortunately, there were musical compensations, not least in the Violetta Valéry of Alison Langer. Her quiet organisation of her Act 1 double aria seemed to emanate from a singer of much wider experience: her coloratura was calmly controlled and her phrasing succulently spacious, where others so often seem anxious to get it out of the way.
She also looked young enough for the role – a rarity in itself – with a touch of frailty that was engaging. On this showing, she is at the start of something really big. Certainly she looks and sounds ready for it.
Nico Darmanin was a diffident Alfredo Germont at the start, almost as if embarrassed by his affair. His tone was also pinched. To give him the benefit of the doubt, it is possible that Talevi saw him as an angry young man in the lead-up to throwing his winnings at Violetta. But we saw the real Darmanin – and Alfredo – in Act 3 when he sounded altogether more relaxed. We needed more of this resonance earlier on.
“On this showing, Alison Langer is at the start of something really big. Certainly she looks and sounds ready for it,” predicts reviewer Martin Dreyer
Damiano Salerno, like Darmanin making his company debut, is an experienced Verdian and brought a certain finesse to his Giorgio. But there was a sense in which he was holding back, that there was more to give.
The conductor for this threesome was Jonathan Webb, certainly a safe pair of hands and ever conscious of balance. The climax of Violetta’s duet with Giorgio in Act 2 needed better preparation and for once he might have let the orchestra off the leash a little. A little untidiness in the cause of bravura is excusable.
The minor aristocrats were given plenty of vim, and there were distinctive contributions from Amy J Payne’s Annina and Victoria Sharp’s Flora. For the record, the other team of principals were Máire Flavin as Violetta, Oliver Johnston as Alfredo and Stephen Gadd as his father, with Manoj Kamps taking the baton.
Review by Martin Dreyer
Further performances on tour in Newcastle, Nottingham and Salford until November 17
Nicholas Watts’s Orpheus and Ashnaa Sasikaran’s Eurydice. Picture: Tom Arber
OPERA North originally billed this collaboration as ‘Monteverdi reimagined’. In the absence of much explanation, our own imaginations were allowed to run wild with fears of an East-West confrontation, with Monteverdi’s magic – as near as we regularly get to the fountainhead of opera, after all – irreparably diluted and the Orpheus myth literally shot to hell.
That was the gamble these companies undertook. A brief press release sent to all punters more recently looked like special pleading. One feared the worst. The reality is much different.
For seekers after truth – as we all must be when we undertake to see a new production – there turn out to be many pleasing parallels between music of the Baroque and that of the sub-continent.
It is often forgotten that Venice sits handily at the crossroads of ancient trade routes between East and West. Modal systems of music, typified by Gregorian chant, were another obvious link between the two, surviving as they do in Indian raga procedures, even if some have been gradually ironed away in western tonal patterns.
As Neil Sorrell points out in an exceptionally penetrating programme note, the voice was central to Monteverdi’s musical imagination and remains so in Indian music. Indian players routinely expect to be able to reproduce vocally what they express through their instruments.
To that extent, western musical education has been straitjacketed, not least in the dichotomy between ‘classical’ and ‘pop’, the partial result of the separation of vocal and instrumental musics. For a full rapprochement, perhaps we in the West need to broaden our approach.
Composer, sitar player and OPera North artist-in-residence Jasdeep Singh Degun. Picture: Justin Slee
This production, which has been several years in the making and delayed by Covid, forcefully reminds us of these parallels. Its moving spirit as composer – apart from Monteverdi – is Jasdeep Singh Degun, who worked in close co-operation with Baroque ace Laurence Cummings.
Singh Degun’s work adds almost an hour to Monteverdi, although the result morphs seamlessly between the two. He allows the various Indian singers to use their own languages so that we have eight, Hindu and Urdu foremost among them, jostling alongside Striggio’s Italian. All are helpfully side-titled.
The staging is in the hands of Anna Himali Howard, whose task is undoubtedly lightened by having Leslie Travers as her set and costume designer. Together they work out a way of connecting the real world with the underworld, the living with the dead.
The professed aim of their co-production is to move from a celebration of love through the darkness of grief-laden despair to the eventual rekindling of hope.
Nothing particularly unusual there, you may suppose, except that their true goal is to communicate the universality of the Orpheus myth via musical means far more wide-ranging than Monteverdi ever could have envisaged.
Travers’s set is the back garden of a semi-detached suburban house, with all the instruments arranged down the sides of a ‘V’ which opens embracingly towards the audience. So Cummings’ harpsichord rubs shoulders with Singh Degun’s sitar, Kirpal Singh Panesar’s bowed esraj with Emilia Benjamin’s lirone, while Céline Saout doubleson harp and the zither-like swarmandal and Vijay Venkat covers no less than five instruments from both camps.
Kaviraj Singh: Plays in the orchestra and takes the role of the resolute Caronte in Orpheus. Picture: Tom Arber
There are 19 players in all. From a western standpoint, the juxtaposition of instruments is undeniably exotic, adding a magical, other-worldly aroma, while the extraordinary Indian percussion supplies positively addictive momentum.
In the first half (Acts 1 & 2), the garden is the venue for the wedding of Nicholas Watts’s Orpheus and Ashnaa Sasikaran’s Eurydice, with friends and relatives happily congregating with candles and balloons. Their joy is cut tragically short with the arrival of Kezia Bienek’s Silvia, carrying Eurydice’s red and gold sari, signifying her demise.
After the interval, the sky is black, the buildings expunged and the profuse flowers (‘head gardener’ Ali Allen) disappears, resurfacing only when Orpheus returns home as the Apollo of Singh Panesar offers spiritual relief from his pain.
The earlier guests have become spirits in the underworld, which adds a touch of the uncanny. Choral traditions are slight in India, but all the voices meld well, and the differing solo vocal ornamentations sound complementary rather than antagonistic, implying compromise on both sides.
Watts began nervously but gradually blossomed on opening night until reaching a peak of emotional resonance in ‘Possente spirto’; Sasikaran makes a charming, gentle Eurydice. Bienek is a forthright Silvia and Chandra Chakraborty a lively Proserpina. Kaviraj Singh offers a resolute Caronte and Singh Panesar an equally persuasive Apollo; significantly, both also play in the orchestra. Dean Robinson’s Pluto strikes the right conciliatory note.
Just about the only mild disappointment is the dancing, which is largely circular and rudimentary. But overall, this is a happy conjunction of two powerful traditions, a cross-fertilisation that promises further musical riches.
Review by Martin Dreyer
Further performances on tour in Newcastle, Nottingham and Salford until November 19.
Mezzo-soprano Alice Coote. “Superb solo interventions“. Picture: JiyangChen
IT is some time since York Minster’s nave was filled for a professional concert, but a full house for Ryedale Festival’s promotion of Verdi’s Requiem, doubtless encouraged by the first-class array of performers, was amply rewarded.
Although Verdi’s Catholic faith left him early and his Requiem for Alessandro Manzoni is unashamedly operatic, it is also an act of reverence, as we were reminded by the hushed aura of its opening.
But the forthright entry of the choral basses at ‘Te decet’ left no doubt that this was to be an evening that left none of the terrors of death unexplored, as Verdi intended. The soloists confirmed this with a forceful Kyrie that was the polar opposite of the usual grovel.
This was to be the essence of Sir Mark Elder’s approach. Accordingly, the Dies Irae opened with a fearsome attack from both choir and orchestra. Soon afterwards, the trumpets were thrilling at ‘Tuba mirum’, with the four on stage in a controlled crescendo and the four off-stage fanfare trumpets joining in from the side aisles. Indeed, the Hallé’s brass covered themselves with glory throughout, returning majestically in the Sanctus.
‘Liber scriptus’ marked the first of mezzo-soprano Alice Coote’s superb solo interventions, a full-throated blast that raised the drama to a new level and culminated in a spine-tingling high A flat –extending the determination she had brought to Orfeo in Huddersfield last week.
Sir Mark Elder, conductor of the Hallé Orchestra. Picture: Hannah Knox
There were no weaknesses among the soloists. The soprano Natalya Romaniw was the only one to employ any operatic swoops, mostly early on and tastefully, to theatrical effect. She also had ample capacity to soar above the chorus at full pelt and still be heard. Her final high B flat was a couple of shades louder than the absurd triple piano Verdi demands but beautifully sustained nonetheless.
In the tenor solo after what was a succulent soprano-alto duet at ‘Recordare’, Thomas Atkins announced himself with noble resonance and shaped its ending stylishly. He sounds ready for a worldwide career as a Verdi tenor. James Platt’s bass was portentous at the ‘Confutatis’ and added gravitas to the solo ensembles.
While individually distinctive, the soloists also maintained a pleasing balance and blend, which is far from a given in this work. The Hallé Choir was impressive at both ends of the dynamic spectrum. ‘Hosanna in excelsis’ in the Sanctus built to a huge climax, but even more imposing was the extremely quiet opening to the closing Responsory, a magical effect heard far too rarely from large choirs. The orchestral strings exhibited similar restraint.
It crystallised the loving care with which Elder had shaped this five-star Requiem. It had been given in memory of Richard Shephard, a valuable friend of both York Minster and the Ryedale Festival until his death last year.
Footnote: I listened to much of this performance through gritted teeth because of two roaming photographers, one of whom prowled around my bay in the side aisle (where the sound incidentally is best of all) like a capricious cat-burglar, blocking my view and distracting many others with his antics.
Who authorised this? Were the performers asked for their permission? It was totally beyond the pale. The solution – if photographs really are essential – is to take them during rehearsals or hire a professional with telephoto lenses.
Madly in love but kept apart by social hierarchy: Lovesick sailor Ralph (Jack Storey-Hunter) and the Captain’s daughter, Josephine (Alexandra Mather), in York Opera’s HMS Pinafore
YORK Opera will set sail at York Theatre Royal with Gilbert & Sullivan’s operetta HMS Pinafore or The Lass That Loved A Sailor from November 16, steered by a new production team of Annabel van Griethuysen and Tim Selman.
Stage director Annabel and conductor Tim will be at the helm of a production at the Theatre Royal for the first time.
HMS Pinafore was G&S’s first big success, both in Great Britain and the United States, establishing their still undiminished position at the pinnacle of light opera in this country.
Although they had had significant success with Trial By Jury and The Sorcerer, the world of light opera in the 1850s and 1860s was dominated by the works of Jacques Offenbach, full of catchy tunes and brilliantly orchestrated.
Breaking into this field of theatre and dominating it across the English-speaking world must be due greatly to the witty and topical libretti by W.S. Gilbert. In conjunction with Sullivan’s sparkling and tuneful musical settings, HMS Pinafore established the rock on which all the subsequent G&S repertoire would be founded.
Annabel van Griethuysen’s Carmen in York Opera’s Carmen at York Theatre Royal in October 2018. Now dietician Annabel switches from mezzo-soprano singing to stage directing HMS Pinafore
The story follows Ralph, a lovesick sailor, and Josephine, the Captain’s daughter, who are madly in love but kept apart by social hierarchy. The musical numbers, loved by young and old alike, include We Sail The Ocean Blue, Never Mind The Why And Wherefore and When I Was A Lad.
As usual with York Opera’s G & S productions, a healthy mix of youth and experience combines in the cast. New to the company are Jack Storey-Hunter in the leading tenor role of Ralph Rackstraw and Polina Bielova as Cousin Hebe.
Well-known cast members in the line-up include Alexandra Mather in the leading soprano role of Josephine; John Soper as Sir Joseph Porter; Ian Thomson-Smith as Captain Corcoran; Rebecca Smith as Little Buttercup and Anthony Gardner as Dick Deadeye.
York Opera in Gilbert & Sullivan’s HMS Pinafore, York Theatre Royal, November 16 to 19, 7.30pm and 2.30pm Saturday matinee. Box office: 01904 623568 or yorktheatreroyal.co.uk
Sea-bound: Jack Storey-Hunter’s Ralph and Alexandra Mather’s Josephine in York Opera’s HMS Pinafore
Book launch for Paul Thompson and John Watterson’s Beware Of The Bull: The Enigmatic Genius of Jake Thackray
Paul Thompson and John Watterson: Beware Of The Bull – The Enigmatic Genius of Jake Thackray Concert & Book Launch, presented by Black Swan Folk Clubat National Centre for Early Music, York, October 28
DESPITE being a household name in the mid-to-late 1960s, Jake Thackray is now largely forgotten.
His humorous topical songs popped up on That’s Life (and before that Braden’s Week). The ephemeral nature of much of his television material was not made with posterity in mind. His slim album output does not fit neatly anywhere – certainly not anywhere near the mainstream.
For those who cottoned on in his lifetime (he died in 2002), or have discovered him through famous admirers, Thackray is held in the highest of esteem.
Paul Thompson and John Watterson have done much to keep the cult alive. Watterson’s Fake Thackray project is much more than a tribute turn, also breathing life into songs unheard in decades or putting new music to works never completed.
Two rarities graced the performance at the NCEM, The Ferryboat, extolling the charms of a public house, and a scabrous number about National Service that was aired, reluctantly, once in 1986.
The new biography seems to have kickstarted a wave of renewed interest in this Yorkshire chansonnier. Thompson and Watterson have produced a wonderfully researched book, the work of dedicated fans rather than biographers for hire.
It does not shy away from the sadness of his decline and later years, and also makes a strong case for his writing (Thackray was a columnist of note for the Yorkshire Post in the early 1990s, his contributions posted, often hilariously late, from his Welsh outpost).
Tantalising gaps in the story remain, particularly how Thackray’s time in France and civil-war Algeria transformed him both as a guitarist and performer. What the French made of Thackray is also unknown.
His love of their language and the chanson form is well documented however. Unique among his English contemporaries Thackray sought to write songs that contained both humour, poetry and insight – in the French style of Georges Brassens, where the words come before all else.
Watterson and Thompson performed ten songs, and 50 years after Thackray’s heyday, crowds continue to laugh and admire his singular dexterity with words. The performers chose their selections carefully, as Thackray’s humour is sometimes dated (all on stage exchanged knowing looks after the line “I shan’t lay a finger on the crabby old bat face” from La-Di-Da, which drew a consciously muffled laugh). His stories of the underdog, or sticking it those in authority, will never go out of style.
The artistry of the material shone. Bantam Cock, freed from its maddening keyboard refrain, was out-and-out funny while the Widow Of Bridlington was both sad and wry (a precursor to Richard Thompson’s Beeswing).
Thompson and Watterson did a splendid job performing these difficult songs. Perhaps Thompson unnecessarily underlined a line or two, in contrast to Thackray’s determinedly deadpan style, but it was a treat to hear the tunes live.
Thackray was a complicated man, marked by his difficult upbringing in Leeds. This working- class hero really did have (smelly) feet of clay. In later years, after the stage fright and weekly terror of performing on national television had passed, his songwriting slowed dramatically as he toiled to write more serious works. One of these, Remembrance, is one of the best anti-war songs, but not one you are ever likely to hear on November 11.
Yorkshire is the centre of the Thackray cult, so with luck we will be graced with many more opportunities to savour this underappreciated master of his craft channelled through Thompson and Watterson.
