September Culture: Medea, Mitch, Unthanks, Kate, Julius, Berlioz
Tuesday, September 30th, 2014 02:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tamaranthA summary review, because (a) September has been extraordinarily busy (b) I've lost a notebook (c) inertia.
Medea, Olivier Theatre, 2-Sep-14
Helen McCrory as Medea was compelling, but I didn't find this production as viscerally shocking as expected: perhaps Fiona Shaw's performance back in (eep) 2001 spoilt me forever. Still, this modern-dress version, with interesting staging (the wedding preparations highlighted on a mezzanine whilst Medea slowly, but not quietly, goes mad down on the stage) was powerful, and the music by Goldfrapp blended well with the increasing tension. The ending, in this production, seemed more ambiguous than I remember.
Mitch Benn, Junction, 5-Sep-14
Hadn't realised he was doing The 37th Beatle again, which I saw back in the summer. Still good! Some minor differences, I think. Mostly memorable as an impromptu gathering of my Cambridge friends.
Kate Bush, Hammersmith Apollo, 13-Sep-14
Hadn't expected to be quite as overwhelmed by this as I was: I like the early albums better than the later ones, and had read that she wouldn't be doing anything earlier than Hounds of Love. Still, I reasoned, first live show in 35 years: an essential ingredient of my teens: a brilliant musician.
I don't remember much about the second half of the show, because the first half blew me away: I was in tears (I am not entirely sure why) by the time she did 'Hello Earth'. The sheer spectacle was magnificent. I knew that the rolling waves were smoke and cloth and light, but they were also real – high tide at Hammersmith. And Kate Bush may look fragile, especially in a life ring surrounded by looming grey waters with a helicopter searchlight sweeping the waters (and the audience) in search of her: but her voice (rather deeper than it used to be) is fragile only when she wants it to be.
Later we had ichthysaur-headed dancers and vignettes scripted (apparently) by David Mitchell and quite a lot of music I wasn't that familiar with. Later, I sat and chatted to the woman next to me, who had also not expected to find the gig quite so moving. Later I marvelled at more stunning lighting effects and fine musicianship. And at the heart of it all Kate Bush, a small barefoot middle-aged woman, completely owning the stage and the audience.
To quote an early Kate Bush song: wow.
Unthanks with Sam Lee, Barbican, 18-Sep-14
If you want cheerful music, don't see the Unthanks. If you think you can cope with melancholy, look at the title of this show – 'A Time and Place: Musical Meditations on the First World War' – and decide whether it could really be uplifting in any way.
A bleak stage with smoke, bare branches and gravestones, and the sound of birdsong. The songs were mostly created from accounts by survivors, for instance 'Bideford Bridge', about the young men of the village crossing west to east, and only one returning from the war. There were some lighter-hearted moments: a jaunty setting of Jessie Pope's poem 'War Girls', about the women doing essential jobs while the men were away. (I didn't know anything about Jessie Pope before hearing this: apparently she was something of a propagandist and Wilfred Owen loathed her.) There was also a haunting duet based on the letters of Vera Brittain and her fiance Roland Leighton – and Vera's reaction to his death. I could have done without the animation of the projected letters behind the band.
Sam Lee talked about the responsibility of speaking for the dead, and for those who survived: this was clearly a serious and solemn project. And yes, uplifting, because the dead are not forgotten.
Julius Caesar, Globe, 20-Sep-14
A good production but as I was coming down with a cold (and knew how it ended anyway), I left at the interval. Especially impressed by Mark Anthony (Luke Thompson) who brought real passion to the role: 'a plain blunt man that loved my friend'. Slightly less impressed by the excess of gore – though not as unimpressed as the poor groundling who got spattered by an ill-timed spurt of Caesar's arterial blood. She looked quite shaken.
Berlioz Grande Messe des Morts, RFH, 25-Sep-14
The Philharmonia dedicated this performance to the memory of Lorin Maazel, former conductor, who died in July. It's an epic work – 86 minutes, three choirs (Gloucester Choral Society, Bristol Choral Society, Philharmonia Voices) and a tenor soloist (Sébastien Droy, who has a lovely rich voice) – and Esa-Pekka Salonen made the most of the RFH acoustics by despatching members of the brass section to various points around the auditorium: the tenor soloist was off to the left, rather than dead centre as is commonly the case.
I'd like to get to know this piece better before I see it live again: it seemed imbalanced, with the climax of the work seemingly occurring about a third of the way through. But yes, utterly beautiful, and less mournful than most Requiems.
Looking back, I note that the majority of these events were not exactly cheerful. A tragedy, a requiem, a remembrance, another tragedy. Thank heavens for Mitch Benn, and especially Kate Bush.
Medea, Olivier Theatre, 2-Sep-14
Helen McCrory as Medea was compelling, but I didn't find this production as viscerally shocking as expected: perhaps Fiona Shaw's performance back in (eep) 2001 spoilt me forever. Still, this modern-dress version, with interesting staging (the wedding preparations highlighted on a mezzanine whilst Medea slowly, but not quietly, goes mad down on the stage) was powerful, and the music by Goldfrapp blended well with the increasing tension. The ending, in this production, seemed more ambiguous than I remember.
Mitch Benn, Junction, 5-Sep-14
Hadn't realised he was doing The 37th Beatle again, which I saw back in the summer. Still good! Some minor differences, I think. Mostly memorable as an impromptu gathering of my Cambridge friends.
Kate Bush, Hammersmith Apollo, 13-Sep-14
Hadn't expected to be quite as overwhelmed by this as I was: I like the early albums better than the later ones, and had read that she wouldn't be doing anything earlier than Hounds of Love. Still, I reasoned, first live show in 35 years: an essential ingredient of my teens: a brilliant musician.
I don't remember much about the second half of the show, because the first half blew me away: I was in tears (I am not entirely sure why) by the time she did 'Hello Earth'. The sheer spectacle was magnificent. I knew that the rolling waves were smoke and cloth and light, but they were also real – high tide at Hammersmith. And Kate Bush may look fragile, especially in a life ring surrounded by looming grey waters with a helicopter searchlight sweeping the waters (and the audience) in search of her: but her voice (rather deeper than it used to be) is fragile only when she wants it to be.
Later we had ichthysaur-headed dancers and vignettes scripted (apparently) by David Mitchell and quite a lot of music I wasn't that familiar with. Later, I sat and chatted to the woman next to me, who had also not expected to find the gig quite so moving. Later I marvelled at more stunning lighting effects and fine musicianship. And at the heart of it all Kate Bush, a small barefoot middle-aged woman, completely owning the stage and the audience.
To quote an early Kate Bush song: wow.
Unthanks with Sam Lee, Barbican, 18-Sep-14
If you want cheerful music, don't see the Unthanks. If you think you can cope with melancholy, look at the title of this show – 'A Time and Place: Musical Meditations on the First World War' – and decide whether it could really be uplifting in any way.
A bleak stage with smoke, bare branches and gravestones, and the sound of birdsong. The songs were mostly created from accounts by survivors, for instance 'Bideford Bridge', about the young men of the village crossing west to east, and only one returning from the war. There were some lighter-hearted moments: a jaunty setting of Jessie Pope's poem 'War Girls', about the women doing essential jobs while the men were away. (I didn't know anything about Jessie Pope before hearing this: apparently she was something of a propagandist and Wilfred Owen loathed her.) There was also a haunting duet based on the letters of Vera Brittain and her fiance Roland Leighton – and Vera's reaction to his death. I could have done without the animation of the projected letters behind the band.
Sam Lee talked about the responsibility of speaking for the dead, and for those who survived: this was clearly a serious and solemn project. And yes, uplifting, because the dead are not forgotten.
Julius Caesar, Globe, 20-Sep-14
A good production but as I was coming down with a cold (and knew how it ended anyway), I left at the interval. Especially impressed by Mark Anthony (Luke Thompson) who brought real passion to the role: 'a plain blunt man that loved my friend'. Slightly less impressed by the excess of gore – though not as unimpressed as the poor groundling who got spattered by an ill-timed spurt of Caesar's arterial blood. She looked quite shaken.
Berlioz Grande Messe des Morts, RFH, 25-Sep-14
The Philharmonia dedicated this performance to the memory of Lorin Maazel, former conductor, who died in July. It's an epic work – 86 minutes, three choirs (Gloucester Choral Society, Bristol Choral Society, Philharmonia Voices) and a tenor soloist (Sébastien Droy, who has a lovely rich voice) – and Esa-Pekka Salonen made the most of the RFH acoustics by despatching members of the brass section to various points around the auditorium: the tenor soloist was off to the left, rather than dead centre as is commonly the case.
I'd like to get to know this piece better before I see it live again: it seemed imbalanced, with the climax of the work seemingly occurring about a third of the way through. But yes, utterly beautiful, and less mournful than most Requiems.
Looking back, I note that the majority of these events were not exactly cheerful. A tragedy, a requiem, a remembrance, another tragedy. Thank heavens for Mitch Benn, and especially Kate Bush.
