J B Priestley’s classic polemic is very much in step with Jeremy Corbyn’s recent social inequality cris de coeur. The production is clearly in danger of being closed down any minute by the Ministry of Information! As Inspector Goole stepped forward to entreat us with his sermon of a caring society, I fully expected George Osborne’s thought police to storm the building, arrest the cast and put the audience on advanced surveillance.
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The evening began with The 3 Dancers, a piece inspired by the 1925 painting by Picasso. Dutch choreographer Didy Veldman had been curious to see if she could apply Cubism to dance using light and layers of movement. Two groups of three dancers, one dressed in black, the other white, each began by striking mixed poses, spotlit in turn, giving a feel of kinetic animation, negative/positive visuals that mirrored Picasso’s original design . . . An uplifting and inspiring night, Rambert are alive with talent.
Read MoreI would argue that Claude Debussy’s dark meandering score for Maeterlinck’s original play, part fairy story, part symbolist essay, is one for the more academic, purist of opera-goers. A gloomy tale in a shady place, this is not so much an entertainment as a show of technical prowess for digestion. All credit must go to the impeccable skills of the English Touring Opera’s singers and orchestra who followed the composer’s complex pathways of discordant harmony with utter conviction, in sequences of self-possessed musical exploration.
Read MoreDirector Harry Fehr has painted Orlando as a senior officer in the RAF, given to outbreaks of sudden violent behaviour – a man seized and eventually overcome with hallucinatory dementia inflamed by the realisation that the woman he loves has left him for another man. That other man is the soldier Medoro, also in hospital to recover, but from physical wounds, not a mental condition . . . As can be expected of the WNO, this was another very high quality production showing bold interpretation and delivery.
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In folklore, Nightjars are emblematic portends of death. We hear the song of the bird at crucial junctures in this story. But despite the shadowy nature of the tale, Roberts’ writing always manages to dance along. These men are not two-dimensional . . . Bea Roberts’s piece leaves us with some hope, that even between two ageing and failing men there can be connection and resolve, even love. She is a writer who is equally at ease with farce and ferocity. Recommended
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