Blog

**** (4 stars)

“Inspiring!”

This didn’t start well for me – not only my second ‘made it by the skin of my teeth’ show of the day, but the opening number – very well delivered by, apparently, the Oracle – was setting the whole scene of the whole piece but delivered in rapid-fire American of which I could only grasp a part [and that only because I had a good idea of the plot of the original Greek drama…]

I’m happy to say things got quite a lot better.

It’s quite possible that the opening number also explained that, in addition to two brothers [Nick and Eli] dying and Calvin becoming the new Governor, deviance was going to be suppressed.  This facet of the narrative didn’t become clear until the Governor’s son Henry emerged – obviously not conforming to the pattern expected by his father, and then in flashback revealing his love for Nick.  [cue a beautiful love duet for two gorgeous voices]

Antigone [Tig], the dead boys’ sister defies the order – she’s obviously very caring and strongly pro-justice: Henry agrees with her but hasn’t her confidence, while her sister Issa thinks she can fight the injustice by recourse to the Theban legal code.  Governor Calvin thinks differently – the code is replaced with one single law – there will be peace, and anyone breaking the peace will be put to death.

There is much excellently choreographed scene-shifting, with clever use of two moveable sets of steps and a number of wooden cubes, which could be arranged in any number of combinations.  The score has a number of good melodies, though the opening number would have benefited from supertitles [or a slightly slower pace and crystal-clear diction] for those of us whose ears aren’t attuned to American accents and turns of phrase.  The mostly young audience was very appreciative of the jargon and slang used, and certainly in agreement with the final message, where all the voices start singing in rich harmony and end in unison, urging that one voice speaking out against injustice be heard.

If only.

Especially in the US these days…

There was a lot of good in this show, but Antigone it really wasn’t: rather it was ‘a musical loosely based on the original Greek tragedy with a rainbow twist’ and a great deal of poetic licence, especially with regard to Antigone’s fate – we hear two pistol shots, assume she’s been killed, but then she reappears on stage…?

The young cast were all superb singers, and really sold the story well, passionately believing what they were singing [or being extremely good actors…!]  What came over very clearly were the obvious parallels with the current political situation in America, the complete ignoring of the rule books and the total suppression of any attempt at opposition.

The young audience obviously thought this show was utterly brilliant – I hope it inspires them to take up the fight against injustice and the pressures to conform to societal values.

Antigone 1989: A Town Hall Musical, The Fringe, Gilded Balloon Patter House Venue 24, Run Ends 29^th August for more information go to: Antigone 1989: A Town Hall Musical | Edinburgh Festival Fringe

***** (5 stars)

“Sheer Joy”

I’d been having a challenging day from the get-go, and the buses simply crawled when they weren’t standing still: I hirpled up Bread Street and Lauriston Street and stumbled, late, into the darkened room where Bill Cunliffe graciously welcomed me as I stumbled out my apologies.

What was going on?  It seems one Bud Powell had a time capsule in which he visited Leipzig in1720 to hear the great Johann Sebastian Bach play the cathedral’s organ.  At the end of the recital Bud spoke to the maestro, and played  for him the little minuet Bach wrote for his wife Anna Magdalena.  The beginning was exactly as written – but then began to swing, which puzzled the composer somewhat.  Is my music remembered after my death? he wondered: come with me, says Bud.

The time capsule flies off – cue flashing coloured lights and jangling sound effects – and we arrive in Salzburg in 1769, where the young prodigy Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is giving a piano recital.  When he reaches the point in his sonata where there’s the cadenza [place to improvise and show off] the young Mozart recognises Bach in his audience, and inserts Anna Magdalena’s minuet in his own inimitable style.

Where else shall we go? is the starting point for a wonderful journey through time.  We visit one of Beethoven’s extremely lengthy concerts in 1812 – several symphonies are played and, as an encore, the Emperor piano concerto, at that time the longest in the repertoire.  Beethoven spots JSB in the audience as he’s about to launch into the cadenza – and lo!  That minuet works its way in, in Beethoven’s grandiose style, with some glorious modulations of key, and [this is where I started laughing] an even longer than usual succession of chords and false endings leading finally to the close of the piece.

By this time, Bud and Bach are hungry, so they go in search of food – and composers – with much humour and language-moderated political comment on the way.  Chopin, Debussy, Rachmaninov each in their turn recognise the master and pay him homage with their own take on Anna Magdalena’s minuet.  We then go to New York – what’s New York?  It’s in the USA.  What’s the USA – it’s in America.  What’s America?  Well, have you heard of Christopher Columbus? Yes.  Well, that’s what he discovered…

We start in Carnegie Hall, where George Gershwin is playing his Rhapsody in Blue.  He also spots the famous composer [assuming it’s someone in period costume] and pays homage by incorporating the minuet into his playing.  We move up to Haarlem to hear Fats Waller’s take on the minuet before moving to Philadelphia for a Philly cheesesteak at Gino’s Cheesesteak House, where John Coltrane’s band is playing.  When his pianist, McCoy Tyner, gets a solo spot, he launches into yet another, more fantastical, version of the minuet – still recognisably Bach, but so obviously also 1960s jazz.  We even get back to New York to hear the Toys 1965 A Lovers Concerto – that very same minuet, instantly recognisable.

Bach was safely returned home, and we came back to earth.  Bill offered us a unique opportunity: to hear a once-only, never-to-be-repeated composition blending three types of music – jazz, classical and a Beatles song.  He invited audience suggestions, and our applause showed which of three suggestions in each genre we chose to hear. 

I had been laughing delightedly most of the way through the show: this is where I really started laughing, for sheer joy at Bill’s inventive and dexterous keyboard brilliance.  Dave Brubeck’s Take Five and Beethoven’s Appassionata sonata seem unlikely companions – but oh my how they swung together and had fun!  I couldn’t begin to imagine how Yesterday could make its way into the mix but oh joy! here it came, and joyfully took its place in the mix – and then Gershwin couldn’t be kept out of the fun and his Rhapsody swung and tumbled its way through one of the most wonderful first performances it has ever been my privilege to attend.

Small wonder there was loud applause after the [very Beethoven-ly extended] finale!  There was a very tight turnaround with the next show, so I couldn’t tell Bill just how much I’d enjoyed his show – but I did manage to say to his wife-to-be that I couldn’t remember when I last laughed so loud and so long for sheer joy. 

Thank you so much, Bill!  I envy your audiences for the rest of this week…

The History of Jazz Piano, and Irrelevant Topics, The Fringe, C Arts Aurora Venue 6, Runs until 23^rd August for more information go to: The History of Jazz Piano, and Irrelevant Topics | Edinburgh Festival Fringe