Henry IV Part 1 - Globe Theatre

Globe stage

...the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta

The drama began before the opening lines were spoken. Someone came onto the stage to rapturous applause, only to announce that Michelle Terry, who was supposed to play Hotspur, was ill, so the part of Hotspur was to be played instead by Globe stalwart James Garnon. Who, apparently, had never read Henry IV Part 1, let alone rehearsed the part at all.

How was he going to cope? Would the production bomb? Or would it rise, phoenix-like, from the ashes?

Unsurprisingly, the performance wasn't as polished or as pacy as it would have been had Michelle Terry played Hotspur. Hotspur is supposed to be young, dynamic and intense, with a kind of restless energy, which isn't easy to pull off when you're having to read from a script (and when you're not in the first flush of youth). But James Garnon did a great job, incorporating the script into his performance (e.g. pretending it was a book) rather than pretending it didn't exist, and adding in improvised actions (e.g. gently kicking his wife's bottom - in a humorous way - and playing with a groundling's hair).

Henry IV Part 1 alternates pretty starkly between comedy (featuring Prince Hal, Falstaff and 'the gang') and seriousness (King Henry's camp and Hotspur's camp). I admit I much prefer the comedic bits. My favourite part of the play is the scene in which Hal impersonates his father while Falstaff pretends to be Hal, followed by Falstaff playing the part of Henry IV while Hal plays himself. This scene was made extra funny in this production by Mistress Quickly (Jonathan Broadbent), who watched Falstaff and Hal doing their impressions very intently and seriously, critiquing their performances.

Sarah Amankwah, whose face was incredibly expressive, made an energetic, relatable Hal. Falstaff (Helen Schlesinger) was delightful and entertaining, but a little too energetic and fleet of foot for the character. I liked the fact that Falstaff added 'fat-shamer' to the litany of insults he bestowed on Hal - this play is FULL of fat-shaming, and it was good and funny to see them acknowledge it. I loved Nina Bowers as Poins and Douglas. She and Hal made an excellent doubt act, and watching her fighting as 'the' Douglas was a joy - it was refreshing to see a woman play that kind of part.

Talking of the fighting, they had swords/daggers and everything, but the fighting was 'no contact' - very well-choreographed, though, and just as dramatic as if it had involved contact. I was impressed with James Garnon who must have learnt his fight choreography in a very short time - and his lines for that scene - you can't wield a weapon and hold a script!

Next: I don't know

Ballet Shoes - Peacock Theatre

The titular ballet shoes

Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild is one of my favourite children's books, and I was excited to see this adaptation. I felt that this production, which was performed by the London Children's Ballet (ages 9-16), was conceived, produced and directed by people who really cared about the story and were keen to do it justice. While there were changes made to the plot to shorten it, they definitely managed to keep the spirit of the book.

The music wasn't particularly memorable, apart from the 'Girls and boys go out to play' motif, which cropped up a little too frequently.

• The opening scenes showing Great Uncle Matthew dumping the babies Pauline, Petrova and Posy at his house, to the initial consternation of Nana, were funny and moving. I loved the set for the house, with the big window at the back of the stage and cabinet full of fossils. 

• I loved Amy West's characterisation of Sylvia, the children's adoptive mother. Sylvia is modest and self-effacing, with a big heart and little self-confidence. Without any obvious skills, talents or even interests (apart from her family), she's a character one could easily write off, but Amy West captured her essence perfectly. She made Sylvia a sympathetic, gently dignified, poignant character. The portrayal of Sylvia's relationship with Nana (Honor Dixon) was also beautifully brought to life - it was clear how important each was to the other.

• The introduction to Madame Fidolia's Children's Academy of Dancing and Stage Training was probably my favourite part - it captured the excitement and intensity of drama school life. I loved the 1930s romper suits and all the different classes depicted; tap, ballet, drama, jazz. The scene in which the Fossil sisters have to dance in front of a load of other pupils is one of the most memorable from the book, and the nerve-wrackingness of it (for Petrova, anyway) was conveyed well. I would've liked them to have had to curtsey to 'Madame', though! 

• The characters of Pauline (Stella Chambaud), Petrova (Tilda Marriage Massey) and Posy (Annalise Wainright-Jones) were well-performed - Posy was charismatic and confident; Petrova successfully showed her love of planes and dance awkwardness; and Pauline was suitably determined, big-headed (at the right moments) and into drama. It was interesting to see a character portrayed in a ballet who was supposed to be bad at ballet - but they managed to pull it off.

• They kept the character of Winifred! I love the hapless understudy, Winifred, who was played appropriately plaintively by Lucie Apicella-Howard. The scene in which Pauline's big head threatens to overwhelm the theatrical world when she refuses to fetch her wrap from the stage manager when playing Alice in Alice in Wonderland was, again, faithful to the book, and it was enchanting to see it performed via the medium of dance.

• If I'm being nitpicky, I didn't like Pauline being whisked off by a Hollywood agent on the strength of her performance as a mere fairy in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Peaseblossom is never going to be anyone's make it or break it role.

• Talking of A Midsummer Night's Dream, I really enjoyed the scene they performed from it. I like seeing plays within a play (well, ballet in this case). Beautiful costumes. Titania (Lottie Graham), Oberon (Hugh O'Sullivan) and Puck (Ruben Garcia) were excellent! 

Next: Henry IV Part 1

The Comedy of Errors - Globe Theatre

Bare Globe stage

This was my first visit to see a Shakespeare play at the Globe since the end of Emma Rice's reign of terror.

It was extremely refreshing to enter the hallowed wooden doors after 1.5 hours of queuing and to see...nothing. A basic Globe stage. No added features. No huge lighting rig, no set, as such, no props, not even a build-out! I have nothing against sets, props and build-outs, but after Emma Rice's apparent attempts to completely disguise the Globe or make it into a modern theatre, finding a stripped-back stage was as comforting and restorative as imbibing a strawberry granita on a hot day in Sicily.

The Comedy of Errors is one of my favourite Shakespeare plays. I know it's probably the least intellectual play - but it's so funny! I love the bits where Antipholus of Syracuse goes home with Adriana, who mistakes him for her husband, and Dromio (of Syracuse) stands guard at the house, preventing Antipholus of Ephesus from entering his own home. Dromio's finger acting in this scene through the hole in the door was amusing. In this production I also particularly enjoyed the scene in which the doctor(?) tries to exorcise the Ephesians. It was a nice touch to have Antipholus of Ephesus proficient at karate/some form of martial art. I always like the scene at the end when the two Dromios speak to one another for the first time. It's usually sweet and moving, and it didn't disappoint this time. The poor Dromios are treated very badly; I'm always taken aback by the (albeit comedic) violence meted out towards them.

Observations:

• The music comprised an odd assortment of (mostly percussive?) instruments. Each cast member played an instrument. There was also a song at the beginning of the second act, which was entertaining.
• The first scene could have been performed in a way that made the convoluted story easier to understand. I always find it funny in TCoE the way the audience tries to find stuff to laugh at in the serious first scene before nothing funny has actually happened.
• I felt Antipholus of Syracuse (Colin Campbell) could have paused for longer before certain lines to achieve greater comedic effect. I liked his relationship with 'his' Dromio, and the fact that they were both Irish.
• I loved Dromio of Syracuse (Beau Holland). Cute and adorable. She reminded me a lot of Imogen Doel as Tranio in The Taming of the Shrew (the last Shakepeare play I saw at the Globe, incidentally).
• I found the character of Luciana (Mogali Masuku) to be less irritating in this production than she usually is. 
• The costumes were a kind of modern take on Jacobean clothing. Since most of the actors played more than one character - and they were all musicians, too - they had a 'basic' outfit, which they layered with their costume proper when in character (if that makes sense). They all wore Doc Martens. I hope the Globe still does SOME plays in authentic Elizabethan/Jacobean clothing, but I won't quibble with the costume choices for this one, since TCoE is pretty fantastical.
• It was interesting that Antipholus of Ephesus (Andrius Gaucas) refused to shake hands or show friendliness towards his twin at the end - does that always happen? I can't remember but I don't think so.

So far I am pleased with what I have seen of Michelle Terry's tenure as Artistic Director at the Globe.

Next: Ballet Shoes

Oranges and Ink - Hen and Chickens Theatre

Oranges

This was a two-woman play depicting the friendship between actress, orange-seller and royal mistress Nell Gwyn, and writer and spy Aphra Behn. Nell Gwyn vs Aphra Behn would make a good epic rap battle of history. But not as good as Jane Austen vs Charlotte Brontë.

The Hen and Chickens Theatre was a small theatre at the back of a pub. The intimate setting, 17th century music and audience's close proximity to the action made it easy to imagine one was in the rooms of Nell's house in Pall Mall or Aphra's cramped quarters, lit only by guttering candle. The Restoration era costumes were wonderful.

The first appearance of Nell Gwyn (Sarah Lawrie) struck a certain amount of fear into my heart because I was worried she would conform to the one-dimensional image of bawdy, saucy, self-centred, irritating uber-extrovert (although maybe Nell was like that), but during the course of the hour-long play different sides and shades of her character emerged. I liked Aphra (Claire Louise Amias) from the get-go; more reflective than Nell, she was witty, empathetic and self-reliant, with a performative side to her character. I would have liked to have heard more anecdotes from her life.

The portrayal of Nell and Aphra's friendship was realistic and relatable. It was easy to understand why they got on so well. Humour was an important component of their friendship and they shared a love of 'lampooning' politicians and other well-known figures. Both had experienced hardship, both were ambitious and creative, and both acutely aware of the difficulties women faced in being taken seriously and treated with respect. When they each experienced personal tragedy, the other provided a shoulder to cry on - although, as with most friendships, there were moments when they let each other down and harsh words were exchanged.

I'd be interested to know how much is known about their relationship - were they known to actually be close friends in real life rather than simply acquaintances?

The play was chronological - apart from the final scene - and each scene showed their interactions at key points in their lives. It wasn't always clear how much time had elapsed between each scene, but the fact that the scenes didn't follow closely on from one another time-wise made it more interesting.

Next: The Comedy of Errors

HMS Pinafore - King's Head Theatre

This was a 'boutique' production with only eight cast members. I was concerned it wouldn't have the magnificence of a huge-cast production with a bevy of camp sailors, but it was equally good in its own way. In the intimate setting of the King's Head Theatre, which is at the back of a pub, it was nice to be able to see facial expressions at close quarters. The dearth of cast members also meant that the First Lord of the Admiralty's aunt was represented as a cinerary urn, which made for lots of laughs.

This was my first time seeing HMS Pinafore and I was not disappointed. I found almost all the songs memorable and beautiful or catchy, and preferred the storyline to that of The Mikado, the G&S opera with which I'm most familiar. I enjoyed the nautical setting and references; the love story that crosses the social divide featuring an implausibly eloquent and verbose sailor; the theme of an unqualified person rising to a position of high responsibility...It was extremely funny, and this production added its own witty touches, such as the aforementioned urn, to which Dick Deadeye made romantic overtures at the end; the sun salutation performed by Bobstay first thing in the morning; Dick Deadeye producing a gun when Ralph was contemplating suicide; and the entrance of the 'Monarch of the Sea' in wetsuit and snorkel.

The HMS Pinafore in this production was a submarine rather than a ship, with a shiny, claustrophobia-invoking set that included bunk beds and a periscope. It was set in the 1960s, which seemed an unusual choice for a G&S opera, but I appreciated the 60s dance moves in 'Never mind the why and wherefore'. Most of the costumes, being naval, weren't obviously 60s, but Josephine's two costumes were (they included a mini-skirt and beehive), and Cousin Hebe wore hotpants.

All the cast were excellent, but I would like to extend an honourable mention to: The 'Monarch of the Sea', or First Lord of the Admiralty, Sir Joseph Porter (Joseph Shovelton), who was delightfully Boris Johnsonesque. The deadpan earnestness of Josephine (Alys Roberts) was perfect, and her voice was amazing. I loved the facial expressions and gestures of Little Buttercup (Jennie Jacobs) in 'A many years ago'. And no, I hadn't anticipated the twist at the end.

Next: Oranges and Ink

Don Quixote - Royal Opera House

Statue of Don Quixote

This was, surprisingly, my first time inside the hallowed walls of the Royal Opera House. I liked it, but not as much as the Coliseum.

Don Quixote the ballet is simple story-wise: the titular Don leaves home with the buffoonish Sancho Panza on a quest to do chivalrous deeds in the manner of medieval knights errant. Most of the ballet focuses on the love story between Kitri, the daughter of an innkeeper, and Basilio, an impecunious barber, residents of the village Don Quixote happens upon. Don Quixote eventually manages to get Kitri's disapproving father to bless their match, and happiness ensues.

Yasmine Naghdi and Marcelino Sambé were excellent as Kitri and Basilio - dancing aside (which I certainly can't fault), they had great chemistry and vibrant smiles, and I liked Kitri's poppy-esque costume. The role of Kitri involved more successive pirouettes(?) than I think I've ever seen performed before. Don Quixote (Gary Avis) was a sympathetic character - kind, well-intentioned, prone to delusions - his visions of Dulcinea (Gina Storm-Jensen), his imaginary Lady, were quite moving.

I enjoyed the variety of scenes and sets, including Don Quixote's bedroom and the sun-baked Spanish village where most of the action took place. My favourite bit was Act II, featuring gypsies, Don Quixote mistaking a windmill for a monster, and a dream interlude in a magic garden, presided over by the Queen of the Dryads (Claire Calvert). The gypsy scenes were atmospheric, especially with the flamenco moves around the fire, and the magic garden set was exquisite, with big flowers hanging over the stage and sparkly different coloured tutus worn by the dryads. My second favourite was the wedding scene, because I loved the dancing. In these ballet village scenes I enjoy observing the interactions of the 'village people' (not those village people) while they watch the dancing. There was a couple on a roof terrace overlooking the village square who added a certain je ne sais quois to the proceedings.

The 'villain' of the piece was a big box of tissues brought by the sickly couple next to me. It was positioned in such a way that a sizeable part of it jutted over the edge of the ledge immediately in front of us. We were seated at a right angle to the stage, and the jutting box obscured part of my view, which was already somewhat obscured. I would've said something at the first interval, but thankfully they re-positioned the box themselves. Oh, the trials of the Royal Opera House!

photo credit: Zygia El ingenioso hidalgo don Quixote de la Mancha via photopin (license)

Next: HMS Pinafore

Strike up the Band - Upstairs at the Gatehouse

Lovely CHEESE! 

This was a bizarre show. The premise was unusual, the plot ridiculous and the tone inconsistent. I enjoyed it very much, but can understand why it has been a 'lost' Gershwin musical until now. There were many bemused murmurings at the interval and the murmurers didn't return to see the second act.

Basic plot: Horace J. Fletcher, the owner of a successful cheese factory in America, declares war on Switzerland over a trivial trade issue. Subplot: two (kind of three) love stories. It's set in 1927. There were several references to Donald Trump, whom Fletcher (played by Richard Emerson) resembled uncannily in terms of outlook and attitude. Maybe the plot wasn't that far-fetched after all...😬

One of the reasons why I enjoyed this was because I liked the songs, and the singing was superlative. I could have listened to Charlotte Christensen (Anne Draper) all day long. Her delightfully 20s blue tunic was good too. I also enjoyed the tap dancing joyously executed by Sammy Graham.

The character/performance that 'made' the show was George Spelvin (David Francis), the spy (at least, I think that's what he turned out to be in the denouement). I'm not sure whether it was the script, Francis's characterisation, or both, but the humour he brought was a different kind of humour to the show's dominant punny/word-play humour. It was weirder and more surrealist, and I found it and him laugh out loud funny. His character pretended to be several different people and they were all hilarious.

The tone of this oeuvre was inconsistent. It was 80% comedy - and really, really ridiculous comedy - but some it was supposed to be taken seriously by the audience, namely the burgeoning romance between Joan Fletcher (Beth Burrows) and Jim Townsend (Paul Biggin), and Townsend's various acts of integrity and heroism. But in the context of a risible plot (featuring a spurious cheese-related war fought by employees of a cheese factory, soldiers enjoying said war, yodelling), you couldn't take anything seriously. I have no problem with a ridiculous plot (see: Comedy of Errors, The Mikado) but I do have a problem with jarring, implausible changes in tone.

The bit that came closest to genuine pathos was the scene on the boat returning from Switzerland, in which Fletcher and Mrs Draper (Pippa Winslow) shared mildly affectionate feelings for one another, while struggling with seasickness.

Next: Don Quixote