Category: Mary Woodward Review

***** (5 stars)

“A wonderful winter warmer!”

Carlos Acosta’s Nutcracker in Havana is the perfect antidote to the winter blues, and a packed Festival Theatre was loud in its appreciation both during and at the end of last night’s performance.  Rhythm, passion, fire and fun infused a sunny, joyful celebration of simply being alive.

The basic Nutcracker story was all there – the Christmas celebration; Clara’s nutcracker doll – broken by her brother Fritz, who believes his sole purpose in life is to torment his sister, and mended by the magician Drosselmeyer; the midnight fight between rats and soldiers, brought to an end by Clara; her reward when the nutcracker, now a handsome prince, takes her to the magical Kingdom of Sweets, where she meets the Sugar Plum Fairy and is entertained by a series of dances.

So often Nutcracker can simply be an almost sickly-sweet confection danced by talented but slightly unreal and generally white dancers.  [I must say that Scottish Opera certainly don’t come into this category, but are very much alive!]

Carlos Acosta, by moving the setting to Havana, and using his own childhood experience of growing up in a humble Cuban home in a country where the celebration of Christmas was illegal, has produced a lively, energetic celebration of both the Christmas spirit and the sheer joy of dancing.

A very meagre Christmas celebration is underway when suddenly Tio [uncle] Elias appears in his classic Chevrolet Corvette.  He brings three life-sized dolls with him – two of the many Yoruba gods, Changò and Oshùn, and a Tin Soldier.  With a wave of his hands, the humble hut and sparse decorations are changed into a mansion with glittering ornaments on a suddenly taller tree.  The dolls dance, the families dance; there is a wonderful clog dance, with everyone wearing [or in one case continually losing] chancletas; a maypole’s ribbons come down from the ceiling and are joyfully woven and unwoven.

Peace returns as everyone goes to bed: but life-sized rats emerge and are engaged in battle by Mambises, soldiers who fought to free Cuba from the Spanish.  Clara appears when things are looking desperate, and despatches the Rat King.  The Nutcracker transforms into a handsome Prince, and dances with Clara.  Snowflakes appear and dance round them: as snow falls, Tio Elias appears with his car and takes Clara and the Prince for a magical ride.

Clara, the Prince, and Tio Elias are in the Kingdom of Sweets, where cooks present a dazzling display of confectionery for their delight.  They are welcomed by the Sugar Plum Fairy, and under Tio Elias’ direction a succession of dancers entertain Clara – who is so delighted that at times she can’t resist joining in with the dancing, and is very reluctant to go back to her seat.

All good things must come to an end, and Clara is taken home, falling asleep clutching her nutcracker doll, where her family find her and lead her back to her bed… was it all a dream???

The Cuban flavour didn’t only colour the action, but infused and energised Tchaikovsky’s already wonderful score.  Some of the music was presented more or less ‘straight’, simply with more exotic orchestration: some of it was really boogied up, and infectiously – at one point I really, really wanted to get up and join the dancing.  I’m sure I wasn’t alone in this!  Pepe Gavrilondo and Yasel Muñoz have created a singularly uplifting and energising score which I’d love to hear again and have on tap for when I’m feeling blue.  I defy anyone to feel down if they could dance around to this engaging and appealing treatment of the Nutcracker score.  Yunet Uranga’s costumes were a wonderful mix of ‘everyday’ and ‘wow! spectacular!’ with a special shoutout for the Arabian, Chinese and Russian dancers’ costumes.

The dancers were all brilliant – even one small Oops! moment was gone in a flash, making me wonder if I’d dreamed it.  Thalia Cardin lit up the stage as Clara [reminding me a bit of Emma Raducanu when she’s really glowing with happiness].  Alexander Varona was an impressively magical Tio Elias, taking delight in his own cleverness while also bringing joy to everyone else.  Most of the rest of the amazingly talented cast were double- treble- and even quadruple-cast, and it was lovely to see that members of the Acosta Advanced Training Hub in Woolwich were on stage in a couple of the large group numbers – what a joy and privilege to take part in such a vibrant and joyful production!

Applause and cheers were loud and prolonged not just at the final curtain but throughout the performance as the packed house showed its appreciation of the talent displayed for them.  I’m sure many of the audience were experienced balletomanes, but I’m hoping that a large proportion were people who’d never seen live ballet before.  My, what a treat for them, which I hope will lead them to come to more ballets and discover a box of delights which is not just for Christmas.

Thank you, Carlos Acosta, for devising this sparkling production, and for bringing it to a dismally dreich Edinburgh last night.

Carlos Acosta’s Nutcracker in Havana, Festival Theatre, Edinburgh, runs until Wednesday 4^th February for more information and tickets go to: https://www.capitaltheatres.com/shows/nutcracker-in-havana/

The Production completes its current UK Tour at the Theatre Royal Norwich from 10^th to 11^th February.

***** (5 stars)

“Utterly Gorgeous!” 

Scottish Opera have done it yet again: an enchanted and enchanting evening with Stuart Stratford, the incredibly talented Scottish Opera orchestra, and a small group of soloists held us spellbound – lucky Usher Hall audience!

Interesting that the programme mentioned heroes – not quite sure who these were at times…  Marvellous heroines, though – strong, determined even in adversity, passionate in both loving and suffering, pouring out their emotions in a stream of some of the most glorious music Tchaikovsky ever wrote.

We began with Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, a work new to me.  Natalia Kutatdeladze had us gripped from her first notes as the young Joan bade a passionate farewell to her rural homeland, loving the familiar landscape and knowing she will never see it again.  The orchestra gave us both a perfect soundscape of the countryside and the throbbing of Joan’s heart – her sadness mixed with the intensity of her yearning to do God’s will.  Later in the opera Joan is torn between her love of God and the vow of chastity she has made, and her growing realisation that she is in love with her enemy, Lionel of Burgundy.   When Lionel arrives and declares his love for Joan, they sing a passionate duet, unaware of the tragic fate that awaits Joan.

Many years ago, Opera North performed the one-act Iolanta in conjunction with Adventures in Motion Pictures’ ground-breaking Nutcracker [the earliest example of Matthew Bourne’s genius].  Both pieces were truly memorable, so I was delighted to be reacquainted with some of this opera about a blind princess who is unaware that she is blind until two knights blunder into the secluded garden in which she lives.  One of them is Robert, Duke of Burgundy, to whom Iolanta has been betrothed since she was young.  He’s not keen on the match because he’s fallen in love with another woman, about whom he sings enthusiastically.  His companion, Count Vaudémont, says his idea of love is very different.  He’s smitten with the beautiful young girl he finds sleeping: the very personification of his ideal.  He’s so loud in his praise he wakes her up, and in the ensuing conversation he slowly realises that Iolanta is blind.  He sees it as a terrible handicap: she doesn’t – all her other senses make her fully aware of the glories of creation around her.

We didn’t get to see the end of the opera, but for once it ends happily.  We did get to see and hear tenor Robert Lewis, baritone Josef Jeongmeen Ahn and soprano Lauren Fagan as Vaudémont, Robert of Burgundy and the eponymous princess.  We’d already heard Josef Jeongmeen Ahn as Joan of Arc’s would-be lover – a gorgeous voice in a slightly restrained manner [not helped by the physical distance between the two lovers].  Here he waxed lyrical and became very enthusiastic at the thought of his love, Matilde and somewhat suspicious of the situation in which the two men found themselves – he was sure there was hidden danger.

Robert Lewis has the perfect voice for pouring out Tchaikovsky’s passionate melodies – it was a joy to see and hear the ease with which the long flowing vocal lines expressed his overflowing emotions.  Lauren Fagan’s expressive voice matched perfectly with his, and she perfectly conveyed the gentle Iolanta’s confusion at her visitor’s remarks before pouring out her hymn of praise to God’s magnificent creation.

And then we got some of the best bits from Eugene Onegin – though honestly, the whole opera is ‘best bits’ and I would simply love to hear this fabulous quartet sing the whole work.   Natalia Kutatdeladze joined the other three singers in the wonderful quartet – though sadly, as Olga, she had very little to sing.  Robert Lewis’ Lensky poured out his love for Olga, Josef Jeongmeen Ahn’s Onegin was dryly, languidly, bored with existence and not really attending to Lauren Fagan’s Tatyana as she shyly tried to explain her inner thoughts to this god-like embodiment of all her romantic imaginings.

This led into the fabulous letter scene: Tatyana can’t sleep, prey to a mass of conflicting, turbulent emotions.  She simply has to defy convention and pour out her feelings to the stranger with whom she’s fallen in love – and this Lauren Fagan did so breathtakingly brilliantly I don’t have the words to express just how good she was.

At the ball to celebrate Tatyana’s birthday Onegin is bored and decides to flirt with Olga: what he intends as a mild diversion escalates into a violent quarrel between himself and his friend Lensky.  The only possible outcome is a duel, preceded by Lensky’s heartbreaking celebration of the beauty of the world he is aware he might be about to leave.  He wonders if Olga will come and shed a tear on his grave: alas, Pushkin’s poem on which the opera is based makes it clear that she will very soon forget him and marry another…  Onegin appears, late and unapologetic.  The two men’s duet, using the same words and melodic phrases, underlines how far apart they are – and yet how very near – if only they could reach out to each other.  No. No. No – they fire and Lensky falls dead.

Both voices were superb – the whole scene was simply glorious – and I have to give a shout out to the third character on stage at this point.  Emerging Artist Daniel Barrett had already captured my attention with the two superb performances he gave in Scottish Opera’s recent double bill of L’heure espagnole and The Bear.  Here, as Zaretsky, Lensky’s second in the duel, he was completely unawed by the excellence of his fellow-singers and commanded the stage superbly.  I look forward to seeing him again very soon!

The Scottish Opera orchestra now got a chance to shine [plus giving us a welcome breather after all that emotion!] in playing the Polonaise which introduces the third act of Eugene Onegin.  Tatyana is now married to Prince Gremin and moves in the highest ranks of St Petersburg society.   She and her husband are attending a grand ball which Onegin attends.  He’s just returned from extensive travels, trying to forget Lensky and the fatal duel.   He sees Tatyana and is overwhelmed to realise that he loves her…

The next day he arrives at the Gremins’ house and declares his love, demanding that Tatyana leave her marriage and go with him.  She resists, asking him if it’s her high position in society and her wealth that now make her desirable?  He pours out his love for her – but it’s too late: what might once have been is now not possible.  Tatyana leaves him to his self-pity.

It was a fitting climax to an incredible evening, and quite rightly the Usher Hall audience burst into extremely loud and prolonged applause.  There’s something so special about the way Tchaikovsky expresses love and longing and the huge range of other emotions to which humans are susceptible.  His orchestration is superb, his depiction of these emotions in both vocal lines and orchestral underpinning is shatteringly good.  I ended the evening an exhausted emotional wreck, but an exhilarated one.

Bloody marvellous is all I can say.

Scottish Opera, Tchaikovsky’s, Heroines and Heroes, Usher Hall, Edinburgh, RUN ENDED

***** (5 stars)

“A Fabulous Treat”

Last year I waxed lyrical about the superb banquet served up for us by Ariel Lanyi: this year I need to get out my box of superlatives and search through for some more to try and describe what a fabulous treat the Northesk audience had this Tuesday lunchtime.

I think the biggest compliment I can pay Ariel is that I came to hear him despite knowing that he was playing Schumann, one of my least favourite composers – and that I really enjoyed his rendition of the Fantasiestücke Op 12.  This collection of ‘fantasy pieces’ runs the gamut of emotions: romantic swooning, furious outbursts, jolly dancing, reflective questioning, happy skittering about and solemn, hymn-like declamation.  They showcased Ariel’s power and delicacy of touch and his ability to make a melody sing out above a tumultuous undercurrent of emotions.  The silence that held us at the end of the final Ende vom Lied [end of the song] was a testament to the way he had drawn us into Schumann’s music and held us entranced.

Debussy’s second book of Preludes formed the second part of Ariel’s programme.  He told us that these are rarely performed as a complete set – and far less frequently played than those in the first set of preludes.  This second set, he said, is almost a compendium of everything Debussy was interested in, and has a strong narrative sense linking them together.

Once again I had a fabulous, nearly front-row view of the keyboard.  It was a joy to see the delicacy, the almost floating hands as Ariel caressed the keys.  Here were clear, almost transparent watercolours, in strong contrast to the robust oil paintings of the Schumann: yes, there was power too, but somehow more refined, restrained and all the more glorious to hear.

Each of the preludes was different in character, and I loved them all – exquisite contrasts of feeling and atmosphere.  We had mist, dead leaves, Spanish gypsies, dancing fairies, the eccentric Genéral Lavine, a moonlit terrace, a water sprite, a very British homage to Charles Dickens’ Samuel Pickwick, and an ancient Egyptian burial urn.  Les tierces alternées [adjacent triads] was a scintillating display of technique – fingers moving so fast there seemed to be at least ten on each of Ariel’s hands as they played on top of each other in joyful competition.  My favourite prelude was Bruyères [heather the plant or the heath on which is grows].  It began with a simple folk tune, and my notes continue lovely warm chords and growing melody, glorious gleaming tone, delicate filigree decoration and ends Love song – woo me…

Debussy’s set of preludes ends with feux d’artifice – fireworks.  It’s the perfect way to end a recital, an aural description of a firework display – bangers, sparklers, catherine wheels, rockets and much much more.  Joyful cascades of brilliance filled the church before a final few splashes of colour faded into the darkness.  And again there was that silence of deep content, which means so much more than the loudest applause, before we showed our appreciation of this wonderful music.

Warm applause greeted Ariel as he came out to play this afternoon – so many of us who remembered his 2024 recital were absolutely delighted that he was with us again.  Our final appreciation of this young man’s artistry almost raised the roof!  Ariel says he loves coming to play at Northesk: we return the compliment and say we so love hearing him that we are already eagerly hoping that he’ll come back next year.

Music at the Brunton – bite-sized concerts, Ariel Lanyi, Northesk Parish Church, Musselburgh, Run Ended

**** (4 stars)

“Delight’s All Ages”

The Lyceum Christmas show always presents an individual and quirky take on traditional or well-kent tales, and this year’s Cinderella is no exception.  Not an Edinburgh-based tale, for once, but one with a distinctly Scottish flavour, this production entertains and delights in equal measure.

The story is familiar – but with quirky twists.  Ella’s mother died when she was young, and she and her father have been very happy together, sharing a love of the birds that live in the forest where they live.  Her father remarries and confidently expects that Ella will come to love his new wife and her two children – nothing could be further from the truth!  When her father dies, his widow discovers that the fortune she thought she’d married is non-existent.  Ella is demoted to the life of a skivvy, and mother, son and daughter delight in mocking and humiliating Ella, who now has to sleep among the cinders in the kitchen.

A young man comes to forest to watch birds – the first time he has ever seen them in their natural setting.  He’s very excited about this, and when he meets Ella shares with her his hope to see some of the very rare birds he has in his bird book.  He’s very surprised when Ella is able to mimic their calls and summon them to her.  He invites her to a ball the following evening, and she’s delighted at the prospect of dancing, which she loves.  Of course, he’s the prince, and of course Ella doesn’t have any idea of this.

And so the story continues, with the Mother setting Ella impossible tasks and delighting in preventing her from going to the ball – but here, instead of a fairy godmother saving the day, it’s the birds who complete the impossible tasks and provide a dress and a pair of wonderfully sparkly [ruby] sneakers to complete Ella’s costume for the ball.   A sneaker is lost, the Prince is disconsolate: he sets out to find the girl whom the sneaker will fit and despite the Mother’s best efforts, Ella gets to marry the Prince and the Mother is suitably punished. 

The cast are uniformly excellent.  Olivia Hammati graduated from the Old Vic Theatre School last year and is perfect as the loving and vulnerable Ella – feisty, too, and quick-wittedly devising a scheme to get her revoltingly affected and unpleasant step-siblings helping her with her chores.  Matthew Forbes and Christina Gordon have a field day with these two nasty characters – though the Brother does reveal a kindlier side, and one does have some sympathy with the Sister as she fails to live up to the Mother’s impossible expectations.  Richard Conlon is a warm and sympathetic, if easily deluded, Father, Carly Anderson is a wonderfully sparky Scottish Queen, and Sam Stopford a suitably gangly, unconfident and painfully shy Prince.  Nicole Cooper steals the show as the impossibly arrogant, heartless monster determined to claw her way out of poverty by forcing her daughter into the Prince’s arms – even performing instant surgery when her foot won’t fit the sparkly sneaker…

Set and costume designer Francis O’Connor provides quirky and colourful contemporary costumes and has a field day with the mops, brooms and ladders which feature largely in poor Ella’s hard-working life.  A giant mirror cleverly represents the glamour and glitter of the royal court, a striking contrast to the dismal domestic scene.  There is a wonderfully riotous plate-smashing sequence in the kitchen and a joyfully abandoned dance number at the ball.  Gloriously colourful birds [excellent puppetry here] flit throughout the show, offering comfort, consolation, assistance and the hope of a return to the much brighter life Ella remembers from her very young days.  Composer and MD Jon Beales has written some catchy songs; there are some lovely dances to help the story along; and the cast throw themselves into everything with great gusto.

Cinderella is a great ensemble piece, with something to delight all ages: an excellent way to celebrate the festive season.

Cinderella: A Fairy Tale, Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh, runs until Saturday 3^rd January 2026 for more information and tickets go to: https://lyceum.org.uk/events/cinderella-a-fairytale

**** (4 stars)

“A wonderfully entertaining show”

Scottish Ballet’s Snow Queen showcases everything that makes the company’s productions so special and enjoyable: superb dancing to a live orchestra, a company of individuals rather than soloists with a faceless, homogenous corps, lively children’s participation and excellent storytelling.  It’s the perfect Christmas treat, and a splendid introduction to the world of ballet for anyone who doesn’t know anything about dance.

The Snow Queen lives in a far-distant ice palace with her sister, the Summer Princess.  They quarrel when the princess sees in the queen’s enchanted mirror a vision of herself embracing a young man.  She goes to find him, disguising herself as a young man, Lexi.  Her sister the queen is alone and furious: in her rage, she shatters the magic mirror.

Lexi is making her living as a pickpocket on the fringes of a busy town, using a shard of the magic mirror to protect herself.  One day she sees the young man of her vision: it’s Kai, but he’s in love with Gerda, and asks her to marry him.  Suddenly the action freezes: the Snow Queen arrives to ask Lexi to come back home.  When she refuses, the Queen blows dust from Lexi’s mirror shard into Kai’s eyes.  He becomes a frozen, heartless monster who repudiates Gerda.  A circus arrives and brings light, colour and fun into a drab urban scene: but a trick involving Kai goes wrong and he disappears, leaving Gerda alone and heartbroken.  She begs Lexi for help.

Gerda and Lexi arrive at the gypsy encampment, seeking help from Mazelda the fortune teller.  She tells Gerda that Kai is under the Snow Queen’s enchantment and he cannot be rescued.  Undaunted, Gerda sets off through the forest and, despite the best efforts of snow wolves, jackfrosts and snowflakes, reaches the ice palace.  Gerda tries unsuccessfully to remind Kai of their relationship.  The Snow Queen attacks her, and it’s only Lexi’s reappearance as the Summer Princess, ready to give up her freedom in exchange for Kai, that enables the young lovers to be reunited as Kai’s heart melts.

Overall, it was a very good performance, and much of the criticism I have is good.  In the opening village scene there’s so much going on that you can’t possibly see everything – and I really want to, because every dancer on stage is a living personality with an agenda of their own and I want to watch them all.   There’s so much going on that it’s easy to miss what Lexi’s doing – the trouble she gets into, the potential disasters narrowly averted.   When the circus irrupts into the midst of all this mayhem, things become even more wonderfully complicated – I want to watch the individual performers, the crowd’s reaction to them, the drama between Lexi, Kai and Gerda: and it’s just impossible!

What stood out for me was the performance of Benjamin Thomas’s Ringmaster – I couldn’t take my eyes off him even when Thomas Edward’s cocky little Strong Man was blithely tossing his Ballerina, Alice Kawalek into the air.  I wanted to follow the Acrobats, Rishan Benjamin and Elizabeth Williams – their contortions on the stage of the tiny theatre looked fascinating – and the Clowns (James Garrington and Andrea Azzari) were also demanding attention which I couldn’t always give them.   Later on, in the gypsy encampment it was Benjamin Thomas who drew my eye again, though Grace Horler’s Mazelda was another strikingly powerful dancer.   

And of course there’s the amazing violinist Gill Risi, strolling through the whirling gypsy dancers (all of whom are superbly athletic and eye-catching) who astounds with her fiery, dramatic playing.  No wonder her curtain call – and that of the whole Scottish Ballet orchestra under Martin Yates – received some of the loudest applause of the night.

It was, sadly, the principal characters whom I found slightly underwhelming.  It’s hard for Kai (Bruno Micchiardi) once he gets the glass fragments in his eye.  Up till then he’s been the charming, hopeful suitor who is delighted to have his proposal to Gerda accepted: after that he becomes a bit of a sulky boy puppet, obeying the demands of the Snow Queen and basically being a bit of a git.  Kayla-Maree Tarantolo’s Gerda danced beautifully, but didn’t really get much opportunity to display her inner fire, even when trying to get her engagement ring back from Lexi.  Lexi herself (Melissa Polson) was a brilliant dancer, but had to spend much of her time being disappointed: I felt really sorry for her when she made the sacrifice of returning to her sister’s palace, a moment which I felt passed rather too quickly.

Jessica Fyfe’s Snow Queen was also a superb dancer but she really didn’t make me shiver with fear nor even want to boo her furiously.  She goes around bullying everyone, and isn’t even particularly pleased to get her sister back: I don’t envy the two of them trying to get along in their ice palace…

This aside, Snow Queen is a wonderfully entertaining show and, as I’ve said, a superb introduction to ballet.  My companion had never been to the ballet before, and loved it, as did the whole of the Festival Theatre audience.   The show is a lovely way to enjoy the magic of the festive season, and I’m really glad to have seen it again – not least to see some of the Mary Queen of Scots dancers in wildly different roles!  Meanwhile, I’m looking forward enormously to seeing Scottish Ballet’s fabulously entertaining gender-swapping Cinderella next Christmas, together with all the other delights waiting for me in 2026.

Scottish Ballet presents The Snow Queen, Festival Theatre, Edinburgh runs until Sunday 7^th December for more information and tickets go to: https://www.capitaltheatres.com/shows/scottish-ballet-the-snow-queen/

The production will tour to Glasgow Theatre Royal, Aberdeen His Majesty’s Theatre and Inverness Eden Court Theatre.