Reviews

Mary Lelandreviews Des and Rosie at Large in the Everyman Palace Martin Adams reviews the Classical Trio at St Peter's CofI in Drogheda and Tony Clayton-Leasaw the Sugababes at the Point

Des and Rosie at Large
Everyman Palace

The title Des and Rosie at Large is an accurate indication of the nature - and of the quality - of this piece of work. Written by Fergus Linehan (responsible for other Des and Rosie adventures) it roams through a series of characters, impersonations, issues and musical genres and its scope relies for its effectiveness on the supposition that most of the audience at least read the newspapers. The script is peppered with jokes which one doesn't see coming; the conjured personalities are written in with lean authorial strokes so that Des Keogh and Rosaleen Linehan can do with them more or less what they will. As indeed they do, with a glee which is characteristic of their revue style and with timing honed to perfection so that the mirth is never allowed blunt the homing arrow of relevance. Wildly funny in places, this is not all froth.

Masked by gaiety, their professional authority would be a reliable factor in anything they took on anyway, but here the warmth and mutual ebullience seem special, and seem to take the audience into the confidence of two good friends (three if we count Rosie's hair, four if we include her hats) who just happen to be on the stage. It is no slur on the immediacy of the material to note that this has become one of the most endearing attributes of a production infused with a cameraderie which embraces and engages the onlooker. Directed by Caroline FitzGerald and aware that exuberance isn't enough (although any show which can combine Daniel O'Donnell and Germaine Greer in a single song shouldn't need much more to justify it), the couple work hard from the moment they erupt from the audience. It all looks easy and funny and friendly, but nothing is more demanding than ease. Still, this is where the quality comes in, or rather roams about a little: for example the stand-up (in fact sit-down) skits are dated by now, not only because there's more than one television broadcaster in the country. This is noticeable because the performers are themselves so fresh, so polished and in such good shape and voice. Accompanied by the equally glossy two-man musical ensemble of Chris Kenevy and Johnny Christopher and supported by a stark but highly efficient set warmed by themed lighting Des and Rosie remind us once again how ridiculous we are, and how to laugh at ourselves as well.

To Mar 31, then touring

Mary Leland

Classical Trio
St Peter's C of I, Drogheda

Schubert - Adagio in E flat D897 (Notturno).
Ravel - Sonata for Violin and Cello.
Beethoven - Piano Trio in B flat (Archduke).
Billed as Classical Trio, violinist Catherine Leonard, cellist Guy Johnston and pianist Charles Owen are on a Music Network tour. Their programme includes one of the greatest piano trios ever written, Beethoven's "Archduke" trio, plus a riveting rarity.

The rarity is Ravel's Sonata for Violin and Cello, of which the composer wrote, "Thinness of texture is pushed to the extreme. Harmonic charm is renounced, coupled with an increasingly conspicuous reaction in favour of melody." That just about sums it up.

In the outer movements, each player made the most of the contrasts between lyrical moments and agitated secondary material. Those edgy contrasts were driven by a supple forward drive. The nearest this piece ever gets to Ravel's characteristic sensuousness is in the slow movement, and there the players' vibrato and bow movement was beautifully judged to do things just right.

Leonard announced that one work, Clara Schumann's Piano Trio in G minor Op 17, was cut from this performance because of the overall length of the programme. Good idea? Bad idea? I'm not sure.

However, there was no lack of substance or length in the remaining three pieces, which included a luminous account of Schubert's Adagio in E flat D897 (Notturno).

The towering reputation of Beethoven's "Archduke" encourages playing that makes transcendence and high polish synonymous. So a different approach was welcome - polished to be sure, but ever ready to highlight the startling switches and contrasts of texture and idea. It made you realise how shocking this piece was to many of Beethoven's contemporaries; and in the process it lost none of its stature.

Tours to Portlaoise on Sun, Listowel on Mon, Ennis on Tues and Castlebar on Wed

Martin Adams

Sugababes
The Point

Talk about covering all possible bases; even before you set foot in the venue - which is respectably full, set up as it is for a seated style concert - you're assaulted by the familiarity of a Friday night down Temple Bar way. From pink cowboy-hatted hen-party girls to boys allowed stag night, from kid's birthday do to discerning pop fan, from night at the circus to dawn of the dead, it would seem that the appeal of the regularly refitted Sugababes is virtually all embracing.

And totally understandable it is, too. Of most, if not all, of the interchangeable girl-next-door groups of the past 10 years, it is Sugababes who have the best songs. Despite a few line-up changes (can anyone recall those that have fallen by the wayside or been pushed out of the door?; the present incarnation are so brazen about the ready disposal of former members they even have T-shirts with those members' names crossed out) Sugababes remain the epitome of how to maintain a pop career without seriously upsetting the fanbase. Remember, too, that they have successfully and credibly covered an Arctic Monkeys song (I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor) and have backed off from the lad mag aesthetic.

On record, then, there are very few that can beat them. On stage? Well, for a group that has some of the most personable pop songs around they sure lack personality. What you get are lots of "hello Dublin" this, that and wha'evvvver, amateur-hour choreography, bizarre filmed inserts of the women (Amelie Berrabah, Heidi Range and Keisha Buchanan) talking about what the songs mean to them and (dear God) a medley of tunes that didn't make it onto the heavily promoted Greatest Hits album that the tour hinges on. That this constitutes the core of the show does them no favours; rather it proves yet again how natural instinct accounts for so much more than identikit mannerisms.

The patchy result is a batch of highly serviceable - indeed, occasionally superb - pop music shafted by lack of polish, lack of presence and lack of quality. Stick to the records on the radio or in the clubs - up close and personal these girls fail the test.

Tony Clayton-Lea