Reviewed today are Come Up and See Me Sometime at the Pavilion Theatre, Dún Laoghaire, the National Chamber Choir/Celso Antunes at the National Gallery, Allison Moorer at The Shelter, Dublin and Charles Harrison (organ) at St Michael's, Dún Laoghaire
Come Up and See Me Sometime
Pavilion Theatre, Dún Laoghaire
West has a niche in the public memory, and not just from having a life- jacket named after her. Her image remains the essence of uninhibited raunchiness, and quotations from her hefty lexicon of sexual patois have entered the language. Others have since toppled any barriers of reticence she left behind her, but she was the pioneer, and is remembered for it.
This new show, scripted by Joe Taylor and with Susie Kennedy in the title role, reveals other talents. West wrote 11 plays, scripted movies, wrote six books and an autobiography, and played continuously in burlesque, theatre and cinema. Her stage performances more than once provoked prosecution, one episode leading to a hefty fine and 10 days in jail. She was a model prisoner, dined with the prison warden and was released in nine days - for good behaviour, of course.
This entertainment is largely centred on Kennedy's performance of the songs West made popular, with comic bits of linking script and two male actors in support. Joe Taylor mostly plays the great W.C. Fields, and Liam O'Brien stands in for such resonant names as Cary Grant, George Raft and Charlie McCarthy, the once well-known dummy. They are backed by a quartet of fine musicians playing jazz.
Kennedy sings pleasantly, smiles brightly and delivers her naughty lines with panache. Her hip-swaying movements tend to be somewhat monotonous and, while I would not think of suggesting that she lacks sex appeal, the character she portrays here is really a good girl at heart. But she does not let the side down, and the party she presides over is a most enjoyable one.
The musicians at the heart of the show are exceptional. Peter O'Brien is on piano, the exceptional Rock Fox plays trumpet and saxophone, Johnny Christopher has the drums and Paul Tobin the bass; a really swinging combo. It all amounts to a genuine tribute to a woman who was vulgar, coarse and a sell-out everywhere throughout her life.
Runs to July 27th; to book, tel: 01-2312929
Gerry Colgan
National Chamber Choir/Celso Antunes
National Gallery
Singet dem Herrn (BWV225)..........................Bach
German Magnificat (SWV494).....................Schútz
Services in B flat (excerpts)..........................Purcell
Save Me, O God...........................................Purcell
Lord, How Long Wilt Thou be Angry..........Purcell
Lobet den Herrn (BWV230)............................Bach
National Chamber Choir's concert was the third in its Contrasts and Contexts series. A large audience was in the National Gallery's Shaw Room for a fine programme of liturgical music by Bach, Schútz and Purcell.
In the few months since he took over as the choir's artistic director, Celso Antunes has made his mark. In his chatty introductions and the sound of the music, the word which comes to mind is energy; while in the singing, changes of character and technique are even more evident than the several changes of personnel.
In the elaborate, rapid textures of Bach's Singet dem Herrn, there was a light, transparent, dancing style that I cannot recall hearing from this choir before. The knotty counterpoint of Purcell's anthems, Save Me, O God and Lord, How Long Wilt Thou be Angry, was extraordinarily rich yet clear. And in service music by Purcell and Schútz (the German Magnificat), contrasts of tone and volume etched the ever-shifting details of text and harmony.
This was music-making in which the conductor was as willing to do his own thing as to pay obeisance to details of the published text. For example, the Purcell anthems were sung by a full choir almost throughout, even though the composer's scoring alternates between chorus and groups of soloists. And there was something mannerist about the tendency to fade out endings, even in music which loudly praises.
The singing's technical and expressive security was impressive, despite some problems with intonation, which, in parts of Bach's Lobet den Herrn, were seriously distracting. Nevertheless, this was a concert full of rewards for the present, and of promise for the choir's future.
Martin Adams
Allison Moorer
The Shelter, Dublin
Country and western music, of the Nashville variety, has always reflected reality and, as such, has almost always been about pain. It was and is a panacea for generations of the poor, the lovelorn and the disaffected, emoting their frustrations, failures and hopes and offering catharsis. As such, it's not a trivial affair, and can't be paraded as such.
Pop music, on the other hand, peddles unattainable fantasy and offers nothing but twee fairytales, whether they be about "true love" or exhorting you to "be what you wanna be". Allison Moorer music belongs to the former, but, on occasion, degenerates into the latter.
The 30-year-old Alabama- born singer (and sister of Shelby Lynne) has a powerful voice that at times seems disembodied from her diminutive frame, and a musical approach that belies her relative youth. For the opening half, however, her sophisticated songsmithery and warm stage presence were sullied by a lyrical approach that riddled the performance with clichés - if you're going to rhyme "only" with "Tony", you better have either the cheek or the gravitas to pull it off. Moorer seemed to have neither.
Her turn of phrase walks a fine line between deft lyricism and syrupy nonsense, often inducing cringes (and even the occasional snigger). Without doubt, Moorer has absorbed and clearly understands the Nashville tradition of the likes of Tammy Wynette, Gram Parsons and Willie Nelson, and has rightly been hailed as its current leading light, but her songs are too good, too subtle to merely be vehicles for pop platitudes.
Midway through a set that seemed to be going nowhere, she sang Dying Breed, a cajun-flavoured song that evoked the French connection with the deep south and suddenly elevated the proceedings to something more vital, more worthy of attention, offering up images of a woman crying into an empty bottle of whiskey, hating herself for following in the footsteps of her alcoholic father.
Suddenly the vignettes that earlier were naive and superficial took on a realism and poignancy, and, as with the best of doggone country music, the autobiographical crept in. (When she was just 13, Moorer's alcoholic father came home in a drunken rage and shot both her mother and himself.)
Mental instability and a propensity for alcohol? Parsons would be proud. Moorer was clearly saving the best till last; as each successive song took the performance further away from the disposable sentiment of the earlier tunes, it became obvious that Moorer clearly has something to say.
She just needs to say it in her own words.
John Lane
Charles Harrison (organ)
St Michael's, Dún Laoghaire
Fantasia in F minor K608.............................Mozart
Bergamasca (Fiori musicali).................Frescobaldi Voluntary in A minor...................................Stanley
Fantasia and Fugue in C minor BWV537........Bach
Sonata III in D minor BWV527.......................Bach
Kanzonetta.....................................................Reger
Prelude and Fugue on BACH...........................Liszt
Harrison is director of music at St George's, Belfast, and on the evidence of Sunday's recital at St Michael's, Dún Laoghaire, he is an organist of considerable accomplishment. The opening chords and flourishes of Mozart's Fantasia in F minor K608 typified the recital's impressive precision of rhythm and technique.
This level of exactness, combined with precise articulation and a steady rhythmic style, gave the concert an objective, detached character which suited some pieces better than others.
Frescobaldi's Bergamasca from Fiori musicali and Stanley's Voluntary in A minor were nicely done. And while the individualistic articulation heard in Bach's Fantasia and Fugue in C minor BWV537 and Sonata III in D minor BWV527 would not have pleased some purists, these performances had a cool, almost passionless integrity.
The drive which Harrison brought to the final doublefugue in Mozart's Fantasia showed that he was well able to dazzle when he chose. That is one of the qualities which makes Liszt's Prelude and Fugue on BACH work best. Yet the Liszt never quite achieved its potential, largely because everything was too calculated for such improvisatory, transcendent music.
Nevertheless, the technical control and organ management were impressive. They were consistent with the recital's other strengths, and helped leave an overall impression of a thoughtful musician, fully in command of what he chooses to do.
Martin Adams
