---

Joseph Kennedy July 12, 2009

Traces
Fri 10th - Sat 11th July 2009

If Baudrillard had ever been to Essex on a baking hot day in which a new, hermetically protected, shopping centre was being launched, Traces is the play he would have wanted to see written. This is a piece fundamentally about landscapes: Human and emotional landscapes meld as a young woman returns to the town from which fame took her away, while a cast of her intimates, acquaintances, and some perfect strangers, move themselves about the town in order for her to give their lives some meaning.

‘In a shopping centre it’s always sunny’, Leanne tells us in her opening monologue, a statement which is refuted by the action that follows, and which perhaps leaves the unsaid coda ‘even when it doesn’t need to be’ hanging in the air. Described by her most obsessive fan’s self-assured sister as a ‘z-list celebrity’, unable to sleep, and alienated from her life in London, she gets the bus to the town in which she grew up, arriving on its bonanza gala day when the new shopping centre will be opened with the attendant pizzzaz of a prize draw for a Porsche and inevitable balloon release. If Leanne can see her mum, and her best friend, she's sure all will be right.

She’s quite wrong however.

The cast who move about her are no less complex, and no less dysfunctional. The day Leanne chooses to return home, however, will lead many of them toward a greater happiness than they might dared to have imagine. A goth whose best friend’s exclamation-mark strewn postcard from Bridlington sends him into paroxysms of despair that not even teenage onanism can abate (tricky when you’ve got a black duvet cover, he complains, ‘why can’t my jizz be as black as my soul’), finds in the shopping centre ‘a sense of foreboding, and quite a big Starbucks’.

This is a modern Britain – England – which cannot escape from clone-town materialism and celebrity culture, a fact dramatized wonderfully by the central carrier-bag ballet to the theme tune of venerable, older than my mum even, Radio 4 favourite Round Britain Quiz. An agoraphobic man is brought out of himself with the aid of a Greggs steak bake, a mother changes her phone number to make her estranged daughter come home, a woman seeks the reassurance of a schoolgirl colleague about where to buy an outfit to meet the son she gave away many years ago, a young man is in love with a girl obsessed with celebrity magazines but who can’t stand a human touch.

The central tragedy of the play brings a greater clarity to all the play’s central movers, and the performances by the young cast from the National Youth Theatre are, with hardly an exception, crackingly, heartstoppingly, effective at convincing us of same. Leanne and Goth Lad excel, and I’m ashamed that even quite extensive Googling couldn’t reveal which of the ensemble cast played which role. I promise to ask someone next time this happens, for your benefit if not my own.

---

Russell George July 9, 2009

Russell Kane and Sarah Millicane, Thu 9th July 2009

The North Wall Arts Centre Summer Festival continued tonight with two more stand-ups auditioning new material for the Edinburgh Fringe. And unlike Sunday’s rather awkward if certainly memorable performances, Russell Kane and Sarah Millican came to Oxford with a very definite sense of purpose. Continually skipping and pacing around the stage, Russell Kane is a comedian whose thought processes often outpace his already rapid delivery. Beginning his routine by asking whether any of the audience were into dressage (being north Oxford, I was surprised that hands weren’t raised), he embarked on a hectic enterprise in opening our eyes to various social conventions, beginning with the innate miserableness of the British male. It was a funny place to start, but I soon wanted him to slow down and let his very bright ideas rest awhile. Although there were some great observations – his skit on why bedrooms so often have wooden chairs positioned against a wall was inspired – the routine felt too breathless to be really funny. Insights into his home life with an authoritarian father then drink soaked Gran were great, but somehow his performance was a blur of sparks, none of which really caught fire. Sarah Millican came on stage carrying a clipboard on which she ticked the new material that worked the best. And her sweet Geordie accent and easy rapport with the audience meant she seemed to tick more lines than she crossed. The centre piece of the set was a survey that she had carried out with 100 men and 100 women asking them to say what they thought was best about being a man / woman; she then asked the audience the same. It doesn’t sound the most original idea – I think Family Fortunes with Les Dennis might have done something similar in 1988 – but her likeable and sharply understated delivery meant it was a real triumph. It was a shame that some of the audience’s answers were a bit naff, but she did well to keep the momentum going. If I were being critical, both these comedians cover subjects that have been done to death by generations of performers before them, but there were some very funny moments. Oxford should be a hub of stand-up comedy, and it was refreshing to see performers use this as a stopping post before Edinburgh.

---

Kathryn July 6, 2009

Amy Dickson & Martin Cousin, Mon 6 July 2009

Amy Dickson, saxophone, and Martin Cousin, piano, treated us to a delightful evening of twentieth century music as part of the North Wall festival. The Australian Amy Dickson is apparently a ‘strong advocate of new music and a fervent supporter of contemporary composers’ and this was obvious from the choice of pieces.

They started with Darius Milhaud’s lovely Scaramouche, which was originally written in 1937 as a piano duet but became so popular that Milhaud himself arranged it for a variety of instruments, including saxophone and piano. The next piece was Rachmaninov’s Vocalise, new to me but very lovely, to be followed by Milonga del Angel by Astor Piazzola, a piece full of yearning and heartache. I now know that the Argentinian Piazzola was mainly a tango composer and bandoneon player who was persuaded to remain true to these roots and so produced this wonderful music.

Paul Creston is an American of Italian origin, entirely self-taught apart from piano and organ lessons as a child and, perhaps largely for this reason, not an adherent to any particular musical style. Amy Dickson said that pianists shy away from this Sonata because it is so difficult to play: with Martin Cousin it just showed off his considerable skills. The saxophone part must have been difficult too for it was one of the few times that Amy Dickson looked at the music in front of her.

After the interval we were given three preludes by Gershwin (unknown to me but oh so Gershwin) followed by Kiss on Wood by James Macmillan. Macmillan is a Catholic and the wood refers to the wood on the cross. To me it was more resonant of a wood of trees, perhaps with a bagpipe playing somewhere in the background. The ending is particularly lyrical, contrasting sharply with the discordant notes from the piano.

Matthew Hindson’s In Search of Ecstasy followed next. This New Zealander now living in Australia was heavily influenced by techno music we were told (but surely Gershwin as well) and this music could not have been more different from the piece preceding it. Amy Dickson started playing standing under the wing of the piano and this produced a deep echo – a technique I had never seen or heard before.

The last and for me the most beautiful piece was Pedro Iturralde’s Pequena Czardas, one of the most haunting pieces of music I have heard for a long time.

I would go a long way to hear these two musicians again, especially together, and I take my hat off to the North Wall for providing such a wonderful event.

---

Russell George July 5, 2009

Pippa Evans and Andrew Maxwell, Sun 5th July

In the early summer months, every comedian worth his or her salt is testing, tweaking and refining material for their Edinburgh fringe shows. And tonight, the subdued and in some cases haughtily reserved patrons of the North Wall Arts Centre saw two acts at quite different stages of preparation. Your trusty correspondent enjoyed them both immensely, but a larger and more raucous crowd may have helped them each a bit more, or at least participated when it was really needed.

Pippa Evans is one of those comedians whose singing voice you suspect is quite a bit better than how she uses it in her comedy. Here, she tells the story of a fictional cabaret club through a variety of slightly disturbed characters. First there is Julie Mansize: northern club singer, nicotine addict and murderer of alcoholic hubby and former co-performer Frank. Then there is her bewildered but faintly psychotic daughter, who after conducting a survey of the audience which could have been brilliant with a different crowd, then sang a scary ‘I don’t know how to love him’ (from Jesus Christ Superstar) at yours truly. And finally there is a drawling American rock singer who tells us, very sweetly at first, that she’s going to put her boyfriend in a box if he leaves her.

Although she was still trying things out, the songs were all funny, and the fact that the characters were all part of a bigger narrative – would the Teddington Cabaret Bar be closed down? – seemed to make any duff lines easier to handle. I had a great time. Pippa Evans is very witty indeed, and it’s refreshing to see something different to a bloke behind a microphone talking about politics, sex or telly. Or political sex on telly.

Not that Andrew Maxwell proved to be a conventional performer either. Arriving on stage with a bunch of tatty notes and a set of Russian dolls, he quickly discarded the microphone. And so began about an hour of basically making it up as he went along, or at best riffing on a few ideas that he’d noted down in the pub the night before. I don’t think I’ve seen a comedian so apparently unprepared, and yes, sometimes there was ranting without any purpose, but I enjoyed the chaotic feel and it was hard not to warm to him. He can swear like a trooper, and some members of the audience perhaps didn’t expect a rather shabby Irishman asking them where they got their pashminas (she walked out, by the way), but he’s a great raconteur. I’m sure his show in Edinburgh will be much more polished, but the scatterbrain and unpredictable feel of this dress rehearsal had its own charm.

There’s more comedy coming up at the North Wall on Thursday (9th), part of a summer festival. It’s a good venue but remember, if you sit down the front, don’t be too surprised if a comedian talks to you. That’s kinda how it works.

The 2009 NSDF Ensemble's production of Touched is both sensitive and dynamic, and a brilliant piece for the North Wall Summer Festival to wrap up with. The youthful cast have an authentic energy that not only suits the play but carries the audience through its tough subject matter effortlessly.

Touched is the third play from British playwright Chris Thorpe and concerns a group of young friends drifting together after several years. Simple staging gave it an unusual power. There was never much more than a couple of chairs and some urbane props onstage: the actors adapted to the stage with all the sprawl and spin of the characters they were playing. There was a slight sense of claustrophobia – perfect for describing the sense of moving back to a place and social set you thought you had left behind. Bold lighting and original music gave an otherwordly and intimate feel to Tash's monologues – this usually kept the safe side of melodrama but might come across as a bit too cinematic for some theatre purists.

The dialogue showed strong and healthy direction from Ruth Carney. Natasha Hodgson and Elisabeth Hopper gave their female characters plenty of dignity and humanity, and created plausible engaging relationships with their male counterparts. Ellie Rose gave a mature and controlled performance as Mel, and Tom Coxon managed to complement his more intense moments with gentle and authentic comedy.

All in all, the fast-moving spectacle of the NSDF Ensemble's Touched was a polished and exciting piece of theatre, with developed theatricality and plenty of fresh talent.

Ellie Broughton 10 Jul 2009

This is my first time at the North Wall (for a concert anyway) and the first thing that struck me was what a stunning venue it is; for those not in the loop, it's a deftly converted Victorian swimming pool of rust red brick with seating to match (rustic red that is, not brick) and black beams. It's very much Oxford's Globe theatre (albeit oblong as opposed to round) and its intimate lighting make it a perfect auditorium for this evening's performance.

Although billed as Tavener, only two of the five pieces are his, although both are premieres. Sadly, the man himself was absent through ill health, however, his friends, colleagues and players of the Academy of St Martin in the Fields did him no disservice through their more than handsome delivery.

The Tavener pieces were preluded by the third movement of Bach's Brandenburg concerto and a eulogy from conductor Nicholas Cleobury to the aforementioned absent composer in which he read from Tavener's book The Music of Silence. 'Music, he says, just is' aside which he viewed it as a form of 'liquid metaphysics.' Aptly put, and so back to the music.

As with a significant proportion of Tavener's catalogue, both pieces Dhyana (Meditation) and Song For Athene are odes to the spiritual world, yet different by design if you like. The latter was, in its original form, the music used while the Princess of Wales casket was carried from Westminster Abbey. It found the venue bathed in a brooding drama that crept across the audience. From my place high in the stands I could view the crowd's personal reveries while the Academy delievered a prestine a rendition as a recorded CD! The featured soloist Ruth Palmer was indeed worthy of the praise that has so far carried her here.

A further Bach Allegro brought the show to the interval after which Dvorak's Serenade for Strings showcased the Academy's seamless fluency to weave between Adagio/Allegro and Moderato to Larghetto.

This show is part of the Summer Festival that runs until the 11th.

Kelvin Hayes 1 Jul 2009

Share this event