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**** (4 stars)

“A very powerful piece indeed”

Scottish Opera have done it yet again!  As ever, my initial apprehension about Another New Opera was rendered pointless as I watched the second-ever performance of The Galloping Cure, the second collaboration between composer Missy Mazzoli and librettist Royce Vavrek. 

Based on a short story by their friend Karen Russell, the opera opens in a struggling industrial town – we never know its name, and have to assume that it’s somewhere in the middle of the USA.  It’s dark, it’s grey, and a mass of people lurch silently towards us before bursting out in a chorus of sound describing in graphic detail the mysterious and painfully debilitating illness that is afflicting them.  Local doctor Theresa is powerless to help them – all I can do is listen – while the townspeople continue to insist that the doctor is always right.  Theresa’s daughter, Noy, is less sure – she not only sees Theresa’s crippling migraines but also feels that Theresa is useless as a mother.

Into this atmosphere of hopelessness comes the mysterious Lucky Mack, bringing his carousel of galloping horses.  The first ride is free!  Everyone who tries it experiences joy and a freedom unlike any other – not just from their illness but from everything that is wrong in their lives.  Noy tries a ride, but Theresa can’t be persuaded – her attention is on baby Rosa, who we learn is actually her granddaughter.  The townspeople become increasingly addicted to the rides, and tensions arise as those who have plenty of money are able to jump the queue… even perennially grumpy Ivona Kowalski is eventually persuaded to try a ride and revels in her new-found joy and freedom from pain.

Meg and Sam, Theresa’s dogs, are watching TV [fortunately, the supertitles can translate canine for us].  They are very excited to see their mistress talking to someone – it’s a TV interviewer, questioning her and Mack about the wonderful carousel.  Theresa endorses its therapeutic powers – it appears to be holistic, treating the whole patient rather than just the symptoms of illness.   Everyone in town is increasingly swept up in the addictive euphoria – even the sheep who accompany Rosa’s nighttime lullaby stop baaing and burst out in the near-universal chorus of I’m flying, I don’t know where I end and everything else begins.

Only the dogs still know – even though they too can now converse in human – that something is very, very wrong.  They try to tell Theresa, but she can’t hear them – she too is sucked into the mass euphoria engendered by Mack’s gift of a Home Horse – your very own hobby horse which has the same magical properties as those on the carousel.  It’s only when Noy reveals to her mother the price you have to pay once you run out of money that the whole horrible truth starts to become clear – but by then it’s far too late…

This is a very impressive piece, an excellent fusion of music and drama, superbly delivered by a very talented cast.  The chorus in particular are to be commended for their mostly crystal-clear enunciation – I hardly needed the supertitles much of the time, clearly showing the amount of hard work done by chorus director Susannah Wapshott.  The supertitles were helpful with the soloists’ lines – and, of course, for the dogs’ and sheeps’ contributions!

The staging and lighting were simply stunning – the carousel scenes were magical in every sense of the word: full marks to everyone involved in this!  The fluorescent tubes hanging from the ceiling were a glittering indication of the emotional atmosphere, increasingly colourful as the carousel’s spell spread ever-wider: a stark monochrome when it’s deadly undercurrent was revealed.  And the gory horror of Ivana Kowalski’s payback [you’re helping others] was superbly managed – implying the gruesome is so much more effective than putting it under the microscope…

It’s always hard to comment intelligibly on music heard for the first time while one is also listening to the words and watching the action – but I can say with confidence that it sat well with and clearly created the atmospheres that illustrated and underlined the drama, which is what one most hopes for in opera.

It’s an engrossing story.  But the punchline bugs me..

Mack’s pointing out to Theresa that the carousel would not have been the ever-expanding phenomenon it became is akin to Adam saying ‘but the woman tempted me and I did eat’ – i.e. “it’s not my fault you can’t pin it on me” – refusing to admit guilt in any form, when it’s completely Mack’s creation that is causing so much pain and devastation. 

The Galloping Cure is a typical story of addiction – first the pleasure, the repeated euphoria: and then the obsessive addiction.  Nothing else matters, you’re willing to pay any price: the price ultimately being, in this case, a hideously mutilated body and finally a painful death.

I even began to question – was Mack also responsible for the initial plague afflicting the town?

There’s fine storytelling, and a gradual building of characters as the action progresses.  The dogs are a blessed relief [as are the sheep] – and the horses themselves are magnificent, both on the ground and when they take to the air.  The excellent cast includes a number of Scottish Opera’s current or previous Emerging Artists – a special shoutout for Catriona Hewitson and Edward Jowle as the unforgettably engaging dogs, Meg and Sam.   There are new voices I’d love to hear again, especially the three main protagonists – Daniela Mack as the exhausted but still caring Theresa, Gabrielle Turgeon as her ‘typical teenage daughter’ Noy, and Justin Austin as the lethally charming Lucky Mack.  Susan Bullock also deserves a special shoutout, not just for her superbly realised chronically grumbling Ivona but for her courage in joining the two aerialists [Danuta Ramos and Saya Yamaguchi] in rising aloft on the glittering white gallopers.

And the whole thing is supported by the ever-delightful and highly accomplished Scottish Opera orchestra under Stuart Stratford.

It’s all so beautiful…but isn’t it the case that the most beautiful things with the greatest allure can be the ones concealing the most potent poisons?

Q.E.D.

A very powerful piece indeed, which I hope will take its place among the other classics of contemporary opera.

The Galloping Cure by Scottish Opera Edinburgh International Festival, Festival Theatre runs until Wednesday 12^th August, for more information and tickets go to: The Galloping Cure | Edinburgh International Festival

**** (4 stars)

“Magnificent”

Venue 13 isn’t the easiest to find – I was very grateful for a huge banner with an arrow pointing me towards the hall as I made my way down the Canongate.  It was well worth the effort!  Sister Sophia is the product of Toronto company The Universe Over 60: Lisa Randall as Sister Sophia gives us a lot to think about as she watches through the night after the death of her dear friend Sister Beatrice.

I was born and raised a Catholic, and educated in convent schools – so I am very familiar with nuns.  Some of them are lovely, some are demons in disguise: without the diligent service of nuns of many different orders, the church would probably have fallen apart many centuries ago.  It’s certainly challenged today, when there are fewer men coming to the priesthood.  The number of nuns is also falling as those who’ve given their lives in devoted service in schools, hospitals, parishes, communities, and who knows where else finally go to their eternal rest, leaving diminishing numbers to serve an ever-greater need.

Sister Sophia is one such devoted woman who’s given her life to God – from the age of sixteen to now: fifty years of being married without ever having physical contact with her bridegroom, of conducting what is in effect a one-sided relationship.  She talks to her husband throughout the night: is it too much to ask for an answer?  Sister Beatrice was firm in her faith; it was she who encouraged and supported Sophia when she was doubting; and now she’s gone – hopefully into the arms of her bridegroom – what is Sophia to do?

Lisa Randall is magnificent as Sophia.  Her superbly mobile, expressive face speaks volumes; her speaking voice is wonderfully flexible; but it’s her singing voice that is the highlight of this piece for me.  Whether it be singing a traditional Latin adoramus te, an intriguing twist on Ave Maria, two gorgeous new compositions and an unforgettable rendition of Tom Lehrer’s Vatican Rag [which itself is worth the ticket price], it’s an aural joy and delight that brings life and colour to what could be, but most definitely isn’t, a monotonous monologue.

Sophia’s conversation with God touches on so many things it’s impossible to catalogue them all – but I resonate strongly with many of them – the serious and the incredibly funny [and there’s a huge amount of very funny in this piece!].  I’ve very happily become a Quaker – which at least means that the ‘men do all the big stuff, women pick up the pieces, grease the wheels, sweep the floor and keep the show on the road’ idea simply isn’t an issue.  But I so recognise the ‘why don’t you talk to me? Show me a sign? Give me at least a hint that you’re there?’ type of questions are always hovering – and, of course, the whole ‘oh gosh I could really do with a hug [or more] here’ issue of physicality doesn’t go away just because you’ve taken a vow of celibacy!

If you’ve never thought about nuns as human beings, make your way down the Canongate and discover the very human being underneath that habit.  Sister Sophia is very much a human being: laugh with her, empathise with her, sigh for her – and find out what she decides to do now that her bestie has gone [we hope] to heaven…

Sister Sophia Kicks the Habit, The Fringe, Main Space at Venue 13 Runs until 21^st August for more information go to: Sister Sophia Kicks the Habit | Edinburgh Festival Fringe

**** (4 stars)

“An excellent catalyst”

It’s an interesting title…I somehow feel it should be Before Party, since the party is arranged by Vivienne Blackwood to precede her death – a sort of pre-wake, perhaps? 

Ostensibly a celebration of her eightieth birthday, the arriving family members are surprised not to find a house full of thespians, celebrities, and Beautiful People – Vivienne was a notable actress in her day and threw the most wonderful parties, darling…

But no.  It’s only for the family – son Geoff, daughter Lily, granddaughter Sasha and grandson James, who comes with his partner, popular singer Cass.  The family are bewildered by the lack of pizazz: they are even more at a loss when Vivienne announces that, rather than a birthday celebration, the evening is to be a celebration of her entire life: she is going to die in the morning.  At first there are protestations – of course you’re not going to die – but when Death Doctor Lesley reads out the series of questions she’ll be asking again in the morning, the realisation that Vivienne is planning an Assisted Death slowly dawns on her family.

Cue an outpouring of a mixture of emotions – anger, outrage, horror – but where is the sorrow?  Almost all these emotions are self-centred – how can you do this to me???  You can’t do this, get a lawyer… You’ve gone mad, get a doctor…. You’ve been manipulated into this by Carol [Geoff’s first wife, inexplicably also present – he’s on his third or fourth wife by now]…. Geoff’s furious that he’s going to lose the family house, Lily desperately tries to get Viv to repent for the many sins of her life, James can only cry, Sasha’s wrapped up in her own problems, and Cass isn’t really sure that she should be here at all.  No-one seems to be thinking about what Vivienne may be feeling inside, whatever the front she’s putting on [and an acclaimed actress surely knows about putting on a front!]

There’s some glorious light relief when Vivienne’s ex-husband Bill, himself an actor and film star is summoned.  The two ex-lovers snap and crackle at each other in the sparklingly witty and barbed dialogue between Beatrice and Benedick from Much Ado About Nothing.  There’s a delightfully drunken dinner, which consists solely of highly expensive alcohol – which itself brings protests that Viv has been dry for years: what, do you think it’s going to kill me?  Viv is extremely witty – but we also see that the alcohol makes her vicious rather than vivacious…

Vivienne is mostly centre-stage; but encounters between different family members sheds a harsh light on each person and their relationships with each other.  There’s a lot of protestation about ‘but this is a family matter’ with very little indication that any family member cares very much about the others.  They’re more concerned about what they perceive to be unfair treatment, often going back many years – all except Lily, who is convinced that God loves her and she is the only person present who knows what is right.

After Party is an excellent catalyst for all the discussions one needs to have, but which so rarely take place, about death, dying and assisted dying, the dying person and those who are left behind to mourn them.  It also shines the spotlight on the greed and selfishness that permeate so many relationships of all kinds, not just the most intimate ones.

An excellent cast create some very real personalities – very few of them likeable but all very plausible.   There are some good jokes, some badly gruesome ones, some excellent music [especially The Mother From Hell – though I wished I could hear the words more clearly] and some delightful bits of thespianism.  There are shocks and predictable bits, touching moments and ones where I could cheerfully have slapped someone, more Shakespeare, a bit of Mark Twain, the prayer of St Francis, and a little bit of Cabaret.

Morna Young has written a good piece which hopefully will get audiences reflecting on life, death and everything in between – Mark Twain again The fear of death follows from the fear of life.  A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.  Were any of the characters on stage, apart from Vivienne herself, so afraid of life that they never really managed to live?  Will Vivienne’s death make any difference to them?  We can but hope so.

After Party, The Fringe Review, Traverse 1 @ Traverser Theatre, Venue 15, Runs until 30^th August for more information go to: After Party | Edinburgh Festival Fringe