After more than a year away from the theatre, what a pleasure to once again walk into the welcoming space that is the Tobacco Factory. It was the darkened performance area and subtle lighting that excited first, but this frisson was soon embellished by the sweet voice of Turkish-born Ozcan Ates, singing his native Anatolian songs accompanied simply on acoustic guitar as the evening’s ‘warm-up’ act. Ozcan’s sensitive, pleading tones were a delightful way to re-engage with live performance. And the support of his performance by Bristol Refugee Rights was an inspired way of widening our appreciation of otherwise unknown artists.
The Beast in Me is the latest production by three-piece ‘The Devil’s Violin’. Based in Abergavenny, this story-telling musical trio are led by narrator Daniel Morden who is backed by violinist Oliver Wilson-Dickson and cellist Sarah Moody in a series of atmospheric, sometimes chilling but for the most part redemptive, magical stories.
‘The Beast’ we are dealing with here is of course the Devil, who likes to make uncompromising pacts with the hapless humans he engages with. In the face of ultimate adversity, these are tales of extraordinary acts of selflessness, that also reveal the potential greed and hypocrisy that lurks within us all. The stories themselves sweep across metaphysical boundaries – the lived experience in them is one where multiple forms can be either experienced or endured as punishments or ways to escape – bears, wolves, horses, eagles, fish, even stones – all are employed to entertain fleeing or festering human souls, usually at the Devil’s bequest.
Storytelling is an art that thrives on delivery, timing, suggestion and gesture. Morden for the most part successfully utilises a sombre straight face and a bold clear voice, so that when he suddenly takes the role of the Devil, his sudden charming smile and softer tones are something of a shock. We are in no doubt that the amicable façade is just that – there will be Hell to pay, literally.
Wilson-Dickson’s violin and Moody’s cello weave spell-like ambient sounds behind the terrible tales – sometimes light and dancing like a ceilidh, but then discordant, sharp, edgy. I particularly enjoyed Moody’s bass syncopations, allowing the violin the freedom to fly free over the top – this was rich musicianship.
What did we learn from The Devil’s Violin storybook? That perseverance, even at great personal cost, can win the day; that there can be consequences for cruelty and that sometimes love can win the day, but always with the knowledge that the Devil holds most, if not all, the best cards. ★★★★☆ Simon Bishop 11th June 2021
