Author: Brett Herriot

***** (5 stars)

“Utterly fascinating!”

Mark Kermode and Jenny Nelson have worked together for a number of years on a movie music radio show for Scala station [alas, no more] and it’s obvious from the way this hour goes that they know each other well, and complement each other superbly.  Mark is the consummate presenter, able to talk  easily, fluently, and simply about things that interest [or engross] him: Jenny is the gentle reminder-er, the ever-present context person who’ll say ‘I know you’re wildly enthusiastic about this particular film or piece of music, but tell us why it’s so important/ good / adjective of your choice”.

Together they’ve co-authored a book.  Although its title is Mark Kermode’s Surround Sound: The Stories of Movie Music, Mark is very clear that it’s a joint production which grew out of a book on movie music that he was commissioned to write a fair number of years ago.  He kept getting very enthusiastic about his subject, finding many people to interview, but realising that the material he amassed was impossible to put into a coherent shape.  It wasn’t till, some years into his radio collaboration with Jenny, that he realised that she was the person he’d been looking for for years, the one with whom he could create the book he’d always had in mind.

It really is a book for people who know nothing about music or the processes involved in creating a film score.  Mark read us a very early passage in the book, where his firm belief that recordings of movie music included the whole of the dialogue as well is shattered by an assistant in a record store.  It’s well-written, and doesn’t need a music degree – or indeed any prior musical knowledge – to understand and enjoy.

Mark and Jenny’s conversation is fascinating and very wide-ranging, and the questions at the end of the session add to our enjoyment.  They referenced many films, directors and composers, virtually none known to me – but that didn’t matter in the slightest.  Directors and composers probably have as many ways of working, separately and together, as there are stars in the sky… 

It’s very interesting to ex-musician me that with modern technology you don’t have to have a recording studio with a one-hundred piece orchestra to create movie music – though this still happens.  You can do in any number of ways, some extremely low-tech.  And silent movies were never actually silent: there was always some sort of music being played, even if only one instrument was involved.  Equally importantly, silence can, at the right point in a film, speak louder than a thousand notes, however well-played.

There are chapters on the history of film music; on influential [though not necessarily famous] composers who’ve made significant contributions to film music; on the different genres of film and music; and so much more…

A fascinating hour, from which many people set off intently for the book-shop and book-signing tent, taking with them all the other questions they were dying to ask Mark and Jenny.  I’m looking forward to laying my hands on a copy of their book just as soon as I’ve finished rushing round Edinburgh like a mad thing reviewing all manner of fascinating things!

EIBF, The sound of movie music, Courtyard theatre, Edinburgh Futures Institute, RUN ENDED for more information go to: https://www.edbookfest.co.uk/the-festival/whats-on/mark-kermode-jenny-nelson-the-sound-of-movie-music

**** (4 stars)

“An impressive piece of writing”

A good show,well delivered, well presented, well acted.  The audience was deeply appreciative – for me, it just went on a bit too long…

Insomniac, indefatigable worker, organiser, and champion of the underdog, wife and fifth cousin of president F D Roosevelt, human dynamo, chair of the United Nations Commission formed to draw up the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and so much more, Elinor Roosevelt’s life motto might well have been what was a constant refrain throughout the show – “So much more to do”.

We first meet her towards the end of her life, at the time of the Cuban missile crisis in 1962.  A stand-off between Russia and the United States, it seemed for a few days that the world was on the brink of a war that could destroy it.  “If only Mr Kennedy and Mr Khrushchev would talk to each other, maybe at my cottage”, she says – after all, they’ve met there before…

Looking back over her life, she wonders whether it has achieved anything…. Cue a fascinating excursion through her life, seen through the framework of a visit she made to the United Kingdom in 1942.  America had joined the war and she flew across the Atlantic to represent her husband on a non-stop succession of conversations, meals both informal and exceedingly formal, with visits to everything from Buckingham Palace to a pig club.  Everywhere she went she talked to people, spoke encouragingly of all she saw, did her best to boost morale in the UK and kept people at home informed and engaged by a constant stream of newspaper columns and letters.

Her memory could be called elephantine, as she tells us about the people in her past and her present, people she meets on occasions separated by many years, statesmen and royalty, those engaged in the fight with weapons and those who fight in other ways – workers [mostly women], both paid and unpaid, and even children.  Her care and concern seem boundless – nothing is too small for her attention.

Alison Skilbeck has crafted this show well, with extensive use of Eleanor’s diaries and writings [and probably listened to a fair number of recordings of broadcasts, too].  She is very adept at creating instant portraits of the people she engages with – we particularly appreciate her portrayals of Elizabeth, Queen Consort of George VI [who became known as the Queen Mother after her husband’s death], and Queen Mary, George’s mother.  We see Churchill [and Mrs Churchill] alongside many other statesmen, heads of government, factory workers, Women’s Voluntary Service and Land Army people, and many more.  

The narrative jumps backwards and forwards in time, giving an increasingly broad picture of a woman who had a miserable start in life, a pretty horrific mother-in-law, and a definitely less than perfect husband.  It’s good to know there were loving women in her life too – something probably less well known about Eleanor – one of whom was a major influence in enabling her to grow into being First Lady.

It’s an impressive piece of writing, and an equally impressive feat of acting.  The production, direction and lighting are good – though I could wish there had been a lot less dry ice – I had to hold my hankie over my nose and mouth throughout the show.  And, as I’ve said, it went on a bit too long for me…

At the end of the show, Eleanor is looking back, remembering the bombs that ended World War Two.  “Truman had to bomb to end the war”, she said earlier in the show – but I couldn’t help thinking that all that had happened since then simply shows to serve that, no matter the size of the bomb you use, someone will build one bigger and more powerful: the arms race and the threats will simply go on and on.  And for all the UN has achieved and still [hopefully] continues to do, the UN declaration of human rights is not taken seriously or adhered to by so many governments and nations around the world today.

Did Eleanor Roosevelt’s life achieve anything?  I leave it to you to see the show and decide for yourself.Mrs Roosevelt flies to London, Drawing Room at Assembly Rooms (Venue 20) for more information go to https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/mrs-roosevelt-flies-to-london

***** (5 stars)

“Blissful and challenging”

What a treat!  Blissful and challenging [for me] in equal measure, tonight’s concert by Poland’s National Forum of Music Leopoldinum string orchestra was part of this year’s Focus on Poland series.  Devised as a tribute to the great violinist and humanitarian Yehudi Menhuin, it was led by two of the Menhuin School’s many talented alumni, Festival director Nicola Benedetti and the orchestra’s Artistic Director Alexander Sitkovetsky.

Nicola came on stage to welcome us and introduce the programme and its performers to us.  She and Sasha Sitkovetsky were both pupils at the Menhuin School and had strong connections with all the pieces played tonight.   Joining the orchestra on stage for most of the programme were young musicians from the Festival’s Risings Starts of Strings.

The orchestra has no conductor – it’s led by the lead violin.  This gives a different dynamic to their playing: a collaboration, a conversation between equals, with room for inspiration and invention ‘on the hoof’’ rather than a meticulously prepared and directed performance.

Elgar’s Serenade for String Orchestra in Emi, Op 20 sounded so very English.  Its opening allegro was warm and delicate; the subsequent larghetto lush and romantically yearning; the closing allegretto had graceful, uplifting melodies dancing gently over the lower voices’ gentle skipping.

Panufnik’s Violin concerto from 1971 was from a completely different world. Sasha Sitkovetsky opened the piece with an angular solo outburst that sounded like a challenge to the orchestra before the movement built into a rich tapestry of harmonically angular sounds.  The second movement was brooding and melancholy, with the soloist regularly producing fantastically high and eerie harmonic notes before the music warmed into richness again.  The third movement was a lively helter-skelter, the soloist taunting and teasing the other musicians who responded in kind.  Angular rhythms and gypsy-like melodies, full of energy, framed a playful cadenza before everyone joined in a fast and furious finale.  I personally found this piece extremely challenging, but the whole Usher Hall audience saluted it with loud cheers and prolonged applause.

After the interval came my moments of bliss – JS Bach’s Concerto for 2 violins in D minor, BWV 1043.  Nicola and Sasha grew up playing this piece at the Menhuin School, and it’s been a part of my life and one of my two most favourite pieces in the world for as long as I can remember.  The two soloists engage in an intimate conversation, at times closely engaged, at others moving off on their own, and always as an integral part of the whole piece rather than ‘stand out’ parts over a less important backing.  It’s by turn tender, joyful, lively, fun, and utterly glorious throughout – small wonder that there was a positive storm of heartfelt applause after the final notes.

Bartòk’s Divertimento for string orchestra, Sz 113 closed the programme, and presented me with another challenge.  The opening allegro was very rhythmic with spiky harmonies, making me think of relentless machinery: there was a lot of passion, but I felt divorced from it – an observer rather than a participant.  The adagio’s dissonant melody floated over a low, almost spooky grumbling to which the violas attempted to offer a mellow consolation. The two moods’ conflict built into a rumbling discontent which ended suddenly and very uncertainly.  The closing allegro assai was lively, with a tune on which everyone agreed.  The first viola had a chance to shine before Sasha Sitkovetsky’s violin went berserk and everyone else followed.  Nicola Benedetti had a short showy solo and everyone on stage joined in a fast and furious finale which again was greeted with a positive storm of applause.

An incredible display of talent, and electrifying performance from all concerned!

EIF, NFM Leopoldinum Benedetti & Sitkovsky’s tribute to Menhuin, Usher Hall, for more information go to: https://www.eif.co.uk/events/nfm-leopoldinum-benedetti-sitkovetskys-tribute-to-menuhin

*** (3 stars)

“Glorious moments”

My goodness, that was LOUD!!

So loud, that I was suffering.  So loud, that what words there were to the songs were distorted beyond the possibility of my hearing.  So loud that at least some people present will inevitably suffer from hearing loss..

And the pity was that it could have been so good if they’d just reduced the sound levels a bit.

I chose this show hoping to have a pleasant hour having a window opened on a culture with which I’m not very familiar.  Alas, it didn’t quite work out like that – though I have to say that the majority of the audience seemed to enjoy themselves enormously.

The essence of the show was, I think, to highlight the importance of water.   It’s essential to all life forms on this planet: without it, very little can survive for long.  It took some elements of ancient wisdom: that people make too much noise all the time when they should rather stop and listen; and that in a time of water shortage the adorable but much-persecuted pangolin would find Bantu, the chosen one, who would lead people to a source of water.

Unfortunately, the previously mentioned noise meant it was almost impossible to distinguish any wisdom.   Much of the show was taken up by extremely good but to me somewhat uninteresting contemporary dance in which, yet again, the blokes wore baggy garments and the women’s costumes left very little indeed to the imagination.

Not my type of entertainment…

A huge screen above the stage gave us some wonderful images – animals walking slowly through virtual deserts; tropical fish swimming in crystal clear waters; jellyfish pulsing through the sea; a black and white urban landscape that morphed into a riot of colour; and gloriously jewel-bright colours flowing and merging in fabulous patterns.  Sometimes these enhanced the dance, at others they provided a welcome distraction.

There were glorious moments – particularly when a dancer with a cloak of lights wove patterns with it against a background of a night sky blazing with stars.

There was virtually a party political broadcast on behalf of the earth, outlining the damage humans are doing to it – the earth is crying out for help – and set against horrific film footage of plastic-filled oceans, lakes and rivers.  Impressive, but it was followed by another loud pop song with unrelated movements, rather than anything to enable the message to sink in or be taken to heart.

The pangolin did find Bantu, and water returned – I think: but the final lipsynched film monologue wasn’t very intelligible, and the final song was even less so.

The message was undeniably powerful, but for me the way it was put across worked against it.  A pity.  Hopefully others in the audience will have been greatly moved – there was certainly plenty of appreciative applause for most of the dance numbers and at the final curtain call.

Africa Power: the colour of water, Music Hall at Assembly Rooms (Venue 20) for more information go to https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/africa-power-the-colour-of-water