**** (4 stars)
“multi-layered exploration”
How often does a solo cello show begin with the player onstage, rapidly devouring a Subway sub? There’s a first time for everything, they say…
And this is how the show begins…. Yes, Karen Hall is in a long black frock, and there’s a cello case beside her – but this is not usual, is it? But even classical musicians have to have breakfast – and while I might prefer not to start the day with a Subway sub, if it’s the cheapest way to start the day, that’s what you might have to go with.
Karen’s very chatty, telling us about herself as she munches her breakfast – four seasons playing on Glee [which I watched a while ago] and working with big names [of whom I’ve not heard] – and here she is in Edinburgh, at last. But how did it all begin? Why the cello? Why keep playing? Is it a compulsion? A gift that won’t let you rest? A higher calling? Or am I just a fool, losing the rest of myself in pursuit of this one thing?
She takes her empty Sub wrapper off stage and we wonder what next… there’s an announcement from the back and Now It Begins – the first movement of JS Bach’s first suite for solo cello, and it’s wonderful. A moment’s quiet murmur of appreciation, and then applause – for which we are rebuked, which I personally feel is a pity. Yes, there are the classical conventions surrounding performance – seven movements to this particular suite, and you don’t applaud between them. But if it’s good, and you enjoyed it, why not? Especially here in Summerhall…?? Or do we have to demonstrate that we know the ‘proper’ way to conduct ourselves in this situation???
Cue an explanation of Bach’s music – it’s baroque, not classical, which means there are fewer rules, more freedom, more room for ornamentation, personal interpretation. It’s also a lot more exposed, in performance there’s nowhere to hide….
Delusions and grandeur is a fascinating, multi-layered exploration of the world of the professional musician and of music itself, interwoven with the other six movements of the cello suite. What does it mean to have / to do something you love, something you are good at? Which comes first, the love or the ‘good at’? Is it ‘never too late to do the thing you love?’ or will it be too late to be any good at it? Do you need to have a backup plan for if you don’t make a success of what you think you’re good at?
Karen’s backup plan was clowning, and she’s very good at it. I’ve never before seen a concert frock become a clamshell in which you can hide while crouching on the chair on to which you’ve climbed; and her physical comedy is consistently very good. She’s also extremely good at involving us in her show – at one point engaging with a software designer, and constantly referring to him thereafter.
But it’s not all fun. Yes, it’s amusing that she removes her frock to reveal stretchy jeans and a sparkly top underneath – because of course attending a casual concert where the instrumentalists are dressed ‘just like me’ will enable me instantly to understand Brahms… but all such efforts to reach out and increase audience sizes are driven by the increasingly savage cuts to arts budgets – which in turn increase the pressure on musicians simply to survive financially. Which comes first, the love of music or the need to pay the bills?
And then there’s the ‘did you hire me for my playing, or for my looks?’ angle – and here the jeans come off too, and the sparkly ‘frock’ is WAY too short to cover the essentials: but that’s the uniform for musicians hired by a certain company for events attended by men who just want to drink and stare and pretend to be interested in the music. I’d never seen the cello played ‘sidesaddle’ before – usually the instrument is gripped between the player’s thighs, but here it was impossible. Amazing to me that Karen could so calmly and play so beautifully while both legs were twisted to one side of the instrument…
There’s a whole lot more in this show which neatly balances humour with rage, passion, mental disintegration, and the seven movements of Bach’s first cello suite. It’s a welcome relief to me to see that Karen smiles to herself at times while playing the final gigue, wrapped around her alter ego, other self, tormentor and friend, her cello.
And then we can applaud. Which we do gladly and enthusiastically.
Delusions and Grandeur, Red Lecture Theatre at Summerhall (Venue 26), for more information go to: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/delusions-and-grandeur
ScotsGay Arts 