One of the most exciting things about a new year is the promise of new theatre. Here, in no particular order, are the plays to which I'm most looking forward in 2010:
Women beware Women by Thomas Middleton (National Theatre) I love the dark grotesquerie of Restoration drama (anyone remember The Revenger's Tragedy from 2008?!) and this play is a brilliant example of the genre. It's directed by Marianne Elliott, whose All's well that ends well was a massive highlight of 2009, so will undoubtedly be startling and original.
Henry IV part 1 by William Shakespeare (Globe) It's a play that everyone raves about, and which is most famous for being the first appearance of the fat knight Sir John Falstaff, but I have never seen it and, indeed, know very little about it. The Globe's Artistic Director, Dominic Dromgoole, is helming this production, and he is known for his insightful, honest interpretations of Shakespeare, so this promises to be very excellent indeed.
La morte d'Arthur by Thomas Mallory (Royal Shakespeare Company) Wonderful! A brand-new adaptation of the King Arthur legends, directed by the fantastic Greg Doran, and performed by the RSC's resident ensemble. Can't wait!
1984 by George Orwell (Royal Exchange Theatre) Matthew Dunster, responsible for the astonishing production of Macbeth from earlier this year, has adapted this wonderful novel, and will direct the first production. I imagine it will be terrifying and brutal, and excellently theatrical.
Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw (Royal Exchange Theatre) A classic play that I've never seen before. The REX is so good at plays from this period (think of An Ideal Husband, Hay Fever etc) that is guaranteed to be an absolute treat.
The Woman in Black by Susan Hill (Lowry) The West End's most terrifying play finally tours to Manchester! Hurrah! Eeek!
Saturday, 19 December 2009
Friday, 18 December 2009
Seven carols a-singing!
Top 7 carols today, in reverse order:
7. Angels from the realms of glory This appeals to the singer in me, as the chorus is a genuine challenge to sing in one breath...
6. The First Nowell Ever since hearing Olly Hamilton's incredible arrangement at the Platt Carol Service two years ago, this has been a firm favourite; it seems to have a fantastic joy and spirit that, to my ear, is quintessentially festive.
5. O come, all ye faithful A classic. Beautiful harmonies, a sensible key signature that allows everyone to sing the high notes in the right octave and, of course, one of the best descants ever!
4. In the bleak midwinter It's all about the cheesey last verse "What can I give him?... Give him my heart" Lovely!
3. O little town of Bethlehem I'm not totally sure what my favourite thing about this one is - it's a close tie between the hushed awe of the third verse, and the gloriously soaring descant in the final verse.
2. God rest ye, merry gentleman Carols in a minor key make me feel more Christmassy than ones in a major key. A strange fact, but a true one. The best thing about this carol is the final verse of the David Willcocks arrangement, where the sopranos and altos sing wordless, spinetingling chords above the men belting out the tune.
1. O come, O come Emmanuel Again, it's in a minor key, so it's an immediate winner - but this one has an elusively haunting, poignant quality that gives it the top spot in my shortlist; and, of course, the top Ds on "Rejoice!" in the chorus are a bass-baritone's delight!
So, there we go. Any controversial choices? You decide.
7. Angels from the realms of glory This appeals to the singer in me, as the chorus is a genuine challenge to sing in one breath...
6. The First Nowell Ever since hearing Olly Hamilton's incredible arrangement at the Platt Carol Service two years ago, this has been a firm favourite; it seems to have a fantastic joy and spirit that, to my ear, is quintessentially festive.
5. O come, all ye faithful A classic. Beautiful harmonies, a sensible key signature that allows everyone to sing the high notes in the right octave and, of course, one of the best descants ever!
4. In the bleak midwinter It's all about the cheesey last verse "What can I give him?... Give him my heart" Lovely!
3. O little town of Bethlehem I'm not totally sure what my favourite thing about this one is - it's a close tie between the hushed awe of the third verse, and the gloriously soaring descant in the final verse.
2. God rest ye, merry gentleman Carols in a minor key make me feel more Christmassy than ones in a major key. A strange fact, but a true one. The best thing about this carol is the final verse of the David Willcocks arrangement, where the sopranos and altos sing wordless, spinetingling chords above the men belting out the tune.
1. O come, O come Emmanuel Again, it's in a minor key, so it's an immediate winner - but this one has an elusively haunting, poignant quality that gives it the top spot in my shortlist; and, of course, the top Ds on "Rejoice!" in the chorus are a bass-baritone's delight!
So, there we go. Any controversial choices? You decide.
Thursday, 17 December 2009
Eight decades a-passing!
The BBC recently adapted Andrea Levy's bestselling novel Small Island, and it is currently available to watch on iPlayer. It's a fantastic drama, taking place over the 1930s and 40s and telling the story of a Jamaican couple, Gilbert and Hortense Joseph, who move to London in search of a new life. Here they become involved with Queenie Bligh, a young landlady awaiting her husband's return from the War.
It will come as no surprise to learn that a big theme of the film is racism. It's a subject that is hardly new fodder for TV drama, but I really was sobered by the outrageous way in which the Josephs are treated by so many of the British public in this story. When you reflect on the fact that we are only a mere eight decades away from the era in which Small Island is set - less than a lifetime, really - it is an unsettling experience.
For the most part, the Josephs maintain an impressive dignity in the face of their struggles and, in many cases, seem much more civilised than their mockers. There is a lovely moment when Gilbert introduces Hortense to the wonders of fish and chips; he explains that the English eat the meal straight from newspaper, without cutlery, and Hortense's response is an utterly bewildered "Like monkeys?"
Oh, and the ending had me shedding a small tear! Cracking stuff.
It will come as no surprise to learn that a big theme of the film is racism. It's a subject that is hardly new fodder for TV drama, but I really was sobered by the outrageous way in which the Josephs are treated by so many of the British public in this story. When you reflect on the fact that we are only a mere eight decades away from the era in which Small Island is set - less than a lifetime, really - it is an unsettling experience.
For the most part, the Josephs maintain an impressive dignity in the face of their struggles and, in many cases, seem much more civilised than their mockers. There is a lovely moment when Gilbert introduces Hortense to the wonders of fish and chips; he explains that the English eat the meal straight from newspaper, without cutlery, and Hortense's response is an utterly bewildered "Like monkeys?"
Oh, and the ending had me shedding a small tear! Cracking stuff.
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Nine books a-reading!
I have been uncharacteristically extravagant in recent days; normally I only buy books second-hand, to save money, but there have been a few good offers in Waterstones et al, and I have taken these opportunities to restock my bookshelves. Consequently, I am in the joyous position of having NINE shiny new novels waiting to be read:
The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini
The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation by M T Anderson
The Suspicions of Mr Whicher by Kate Summerscale
Nation by Terry Pratchett
Crocodile Tears by Anthony Horowitz
The Gift by Cecilia Ahern
The Lost Art of Gratitude by Alexander McCall Smith
Past Imperfect by Julian Fellowes
The Anthony Horowitz is particularly exciting as it is the latest in my beloved series of Alex Rider novels - a brilliant collection of books about a teenager in the employ of MI5.
Exciting! If there is anything particularly notable in any of them, perhaps it will even find its way onto this blog...
The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini
The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation by M T Anderson
The Suspicions of Mr Whicher by Kate Summerscale
Nation by Terry Pratchett
Crocodile Tears by Anthony Horowitz
The Gift by Cecilia Ahern
The Lost Art of Gratitude by Alexander McCall Smith
Past Imperfect by Julian Fellowes
The Anthony Horowitz is particularly exciting as it is the latest in my beloved series of Alex Rider novels - a brilliant collection of books about a teenager in the employ of MI5.
Exciting! If there is anything particularly notable in any of them, perhaps it will even find its way onto this blog...
Ten Doctors a-regenerating!
(Sorry, it's a day late... I was away yesterday.)
This Christmas will be, in many ways, a time of worldwide mourning, as something unthinkably sad is going to happen... David Tennant will be leaving the role of the Doctor forever!
While I have no doubts at all about the quality of his successor Matt Smith (a lead role in the marvellous Sally Lockhart Mysteries plus a play at the Royal Exchange - who can ever cast aspersions on his acting credentials?!), Tennant's departure will be very difficult to accept! I am undoubtedly going to cry like a little girl!
This Christmas will be, in many ways, a time of worldwide mourning, as something unthinkably sad is going to happen... David Tennant will be leaving the role of the Doctor forever!
While I have no doubts at all about the quality of his successor Matt Smith (a lead role in the marvellous Sally Lockhart Mysteries plus a play at the Royal Exchange - who can ever cast aspersions on his acting credentials?!), Tennant's departure will be very difficult to accept! I am undoubtedly going to cry like a little girl!
Sunday, 13 December 2009
Eleven chills a-tingling!
There is something about the traditional, old-fashioned, round-the-fire ghost story that seems inextricably linked to Christmas. I suspect that's something to do with the dark nights, and the idea of a reunited family shutting the curtains and gathering around to share chilling tales...
In any case, I have, for the last few years, endeavoured to read a good ghost story over the Christmas period. It's usually the Victorians and Edwardians who understood the genre best (and the titles are always brilliant - who but Henry James could pen something like The Strange Romance of Certain Old Clothes?!) but the one modern writer who I think has properly inherited her predecessor's talents is the wonderful Susan Hill. This Christmas, I shall be reading her acknowledged masterpiece The Woman in Black, which is now most famous for its stage adaptation, one of the West End's most successful plays. From browsing the first few pages, I know it to be the story of a young man named Arthur Kipps who experiences something terrible in a lonely house on the moors and, years, later is compelled to relate the tale:
They had chided me with being a spoilsport, tried to encourage me to tell them the one ghost story I must surely, like any other man, have it in me to tell. And they were right. Yes, I had a story, a true story, a story of haunting and evil, fear and confusion, horror and tragedy. But it was not a story to be told for casual entertainment, around the fireside upon Christmas Eve...
I beg to differ, Mr Kipps! Tell on!
In any case, I have, for the last few years, endeavoured to read a good ghost story over the Christmas period. It's usually the Victorians and Edwardians who understood the genre best (and the titles are always brilliant - who but Henry James could pen something like The Strange Romance of Certain Old Clothes?!) but the one modern writer who I think has properly inherited her predecessor's talents is the wonderful Susan Hill. This Christmas, I shall be reading her acknowledged masterpiece The Woman in Black, which is now most famous for its stage adaptation, one of the West End's most successful plays. From browsing the first few pages, I know it to be the story of a young man named Arthur Kipps who experiences something terrible in a lonely house on the moors and, years, later is compelled to relate the tale:
They had chided me with being a spoilsport, tried to encourage me to tell them the one ghost story I must surely, like any other man, have it in me to tell. And they were right. Yes, I had a story, a true story, a story of haunting and evil, fear and confusion, horror and tragedy. But it was not a story to be told for casual entertainment, around the fireside upon Christmas Eve...
I beg to differ, Mr Kipps! Tell on!
Saturday, 12 December 2009
Twelve days a-counting!
Right, I have come up with a personal challenge to try and get me back into the habit of blogging: it's twelve days until Christmas, and on each day between now and then, I shall endeavour to write a post that has some vague relation to the number of days left...in a vague semblance of the 12 days of Christmas... Bear with me! It might be fun!
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