The Merchant of Venice, Globe Theatre

Well, at least I don't need to spend any time explaining the plot of this one, do I?

Sometimes it's great to do something at such short notice that the surprise of it all becomes a part of the experience.  We'd decided to have a look at the outside of The Globe en route to Tate Modern, not having explored this area much before.  But had also read that there would be a performance of Merchant on at 2pm.  So, on the off chance, there we were at ten to two, asking if there were any returns.  And verily the gods did smile upon us.  Even if we did have to sit well apart.  Sat in time to see the preliminary masque, and take in the unique surroundings, before the action commenced and sucked me in.

Having come along with no preconceptions concerning the casting, staging or direction it felt entirely fresh whilst seeming comfortably familiar.  What was clear from the outset was that this production sought to eke out every ounce of comedy from the lines, and would bring the audience into the joke.  Which is what the Globe is all about, attempting to recreate the contemporary Elizabethan experience as far as possible.  Rowdiness included.  It is an experience just to sit in that rounded auditorium, feel the breeze on your face, look down upon the 'peasants' in the standing area (only £5 a ticket - tempting, were it not for the state of our knees) and ignore the discomfort of a wooden bench.

When Shylock walked on my immediate reaction was "Oh look, it's Jonathan Pryce", always one of my favourite screen actors, and, without wishing to sound starstruck, it was impossible to ignore the qualities that he brought to the role and his power on the stage.  The character becomes both ordinary, and therefore easily identified with,amd monstrous, an obsessive with a hate filled streak.

In a strong cast it there were no weak links, but I have to give special mention to Stefan Adegbola as Launcelot Gobbo.  The clowning role right enough, but he maximised the comic opportunities, drawing the audience into his role, even bringing a couple of the 'peasants' up from below to join him on stage and play his conscience and temptation.  A very physical performance, full of energy and expression.

The other stand out performance came from Dorothea Myer-Bennett as Nerissa.  Required to perform in the shadow of her mistress Portia, she nonetheless outshone the bigger part with the timing and delivery of the laugh provoking opportunities she was given.

Not that it was all comedy, and the more serious elements of the drama brought out the necessary tension, with Dominic Mafham's Antonio in genuine fear of the knife Shylock wielded before him.

A modern audience must put aside the now-appalling racism and misogyny in the text, to accept that that is how it was then, and concentrate on the universal messages the play provides. That hatred and fear is not a basis for justice. That love is a tricky course to navigate. And yes, now we an take it as an illustration of the damage that racism and bigotry do to both the perpetrators and the victims.

A fantastic way to spend an afternoon, especially when so unanticipated. It really is something that everyone should try to do at least once.

Lau, Union Chapel

I've written before about the passion and enthusiasm that Lau always generate within me so it will come as no surprise that this review may stray into hyperbole....

Down to London to see our favourite band and the chance to hear them perform live some tracks off their recently released album in one of our favourite venues.  The trio have been together for ten years now and continue to pull their folk music roots in wild, exciting and unexpected directions.  Imaginative, inventive, radical, each Lau album release has moved on to create new sounds, challenging the listener to explore and understand.

In a packed out church, the light of dusk strained through stained glass, the gig was opened by Siobhan Wilson, no longer known by her previous moniker of Ella the Bird.  A sweet voice and even sweeter personality were underscored by personal and emotional lyrics and some clean guitar work.  The set needed a more up tempo number included in the mix to save it from sameness, but you couldn't fail to warm to her enthusiasm and openness.

The noise level from the audience rocketed when the trio came on stage, and from the off it was clear that they were on top form.  A hugely varied set saw them deliver several of the new songs, with diverse tunes from the back catalogue thrown in and around.  Much of the current Lau sound makes considerable use of electronics, with sampling adding rhythmic undertones and Martin's weird and wonderful spoon and fork creation (yes, really) some more ethereal noises.  There are good reasons why Lau are often categorised as 'experimental folk'.

But it was also good to see them return to the acoustic basics and raw energy that made such an immediate impact on me so many years ago.  Lal Waterson's Midnight Feast can rarely have sounded as beautiful as it did in that vaulted chamber, while The Burrian, with it's haunting melody lines and oceanic changes of pace, got one of the loudest responses of the night.

Martin Green was in manic mode, standing, sitting, down on the floor, up in the air, the grip between himself and his seat tenuous, a magnetic, demented spectre.  Aidan O'Rourke swaying, twisting, looking like he was enjoying himself even more than we were.  And in the middle Kris Drever, sometimes sitting, but often upright, eyes closed, new electric guitar casting reflections out into the darkness.  Eyes closed, lost in the moment, dramatically lit, he seemed more rock god than folkie.

They left the stage to thundering applause and calls for more.  Did I say they were experimental?  Adventurous?  How many bands would have the nerve to play as encore the seventeen minute title track of their latest oeuvre, The Bell That Never Rang, complete with string (Elysian) quartet?  The result was something magical, a departure from what had gone before, creating a world all of its own.  I will revisit the album with fresh ears.

If there was a disappointment in the evening it came right at the end when I went to the merch table.  None of their specially created hot sauce (Martin had warned us) and not even a t shirt in my size.  Just as well we're booked to see them again later in the year....

I went out into the night buzzing like only Lau have ever made me buzz.  Fabulous.

Laura Cortese and the Dance Cards

What picture comes to mind if I tell you tonight's line up consisted of three young women, two violins and a cello?  Chamber music maybe?

How about if I call them fiddles, tell you that the fiddlers are wearing denim jackets and come from Boston, Massachusetts?  Working around a single microphone the trio delivers a mix of folk, bluegrass, rock and roll, and, in some of the more complex interplay, even a bit of that there chamber music.  There are some great arrangements, much use of pizzicato to provide both melody and rhythm, some simply excellent tunes.

Soaring above this musicality are Ms Cortese's punchy vocals, the sound that defines the band, with Valerie Thompson (cello) and Mariel Vandersteel (fiddle) adding depth and harmony with their sweeter voices.  Laura sings with dramatic effect and power, but can soften her style for the slower number.  She's a pretty decent storyteller too, giving the audience a few laughs with her introductions, and we were brought into the action as a human drum machine for one song.  There's a lot of connection with their audience.

For an encore that connection was made more intimate by a nice bit of showmanship.  Cortese asked for the lights to be dimmed, the mike switched off, and the girls delivered a beautiful slow number complete with soaring cello solo.  A lovely way to finish off yet another enjoyable evening at the House.

Have a listen to some of their music.

Southern Tenant Folk Union, Pleasance Cabaret Bar

Edinburgh based STFU have been going now for nine years, with several iterations of line up along the way and six excellent albums.  Their style has evolved over the years, starting from a bluegrass background, adding in Scottish folk influences, and, on the last two CDs, coming up with a more ambitious orchestrated sound.  Most of their songs are self-penned and have become increasingly thematic and political over the years.

In front of an enthusiastic home crowd they performed several numbers from the latest album, The Chuck Norris Project, and a selection of songs from their now extensive back catalogue.  A six piece line up with double bass, percussion, two guitars, fiddle and banjo, backed up for the opening numbers by Kieran Lambie on clarinet who added the cinematic quality that is a noticeable feature of the latest project.

Three members of the band handle the vocals, with the bulk falling to lead guitarist Rory Butler who is proving to be one of the best front men the band has ever had.  His voice works well with the wide variety of the musical styles the band now exhibits.  One of the highlights of the evening was his rendition of the gloriously black Days by the Seaside With Ice Cream, telling the tale of a wife burying on the beach the husband she has quite literally just axed.

The band has developed a signature style for the stage, the lead musicians and singers sharing one central microphone, choreographing their movements in and out and always just managing to avoid the moment when one of them receives a fiddle bow in the eye!  For their encore they join the audience on the floor, play acoustically, and lead the crowd in singing a gospel song.  And when it's time for the band introductions they each take it in turn to acquaint us with one of their colleagues.  Not always politely....

The driving force behind Southern Tenant, and the one constant across the years, is banjo player Pat McGarvey.  Who has also penned a great deal of the band's material and may just be one of the best songwriters you've never heard of.  His finger picking backing is an essential in the STFU sound, and his sometimes rambling song introductions are part of the charm of the act.

You'll have probably guessed by now that this is a band we've been to see many times before and tonight was just another in a string of excellent gigs.  Great to see Ciaran Ryan being given a chance to show his fiddling skills with an exhilarating set of Irish tunes that had the place rocking.  That's the same Ciaran Ryan we saw earlier in the week performing with the wonderful Dallahan.

 As well as some great songs and a variety of musical styles what you get from a STFU evening is a sense of fun and sheer enjoyment.   Catch them next time they're on tour.

The Shee, Storytelling Centre

We've only seen The Shee once before, several years ago when they were clearly very young, very talented and very grounded in traditional music.  Now releasing a third studio album, their sound has evolved over time to become more distinctively Sheeish, more dramatic, and with a layered orchestration that is near classical at times.

A six piece band with flute, two fiddles, mandolin, piano accordion and electro harp, there are also three fine voices.  The singers share out the lead vocals, and sing some beautiful harmonies, with Olivia Ross my pick for her purity and tone.

A well chosen set list mixed up songs and tunes of differing tempos and background, some traditional, some contemporary.  Even such a well known traditional ballad as Three Knights, a tale of bridal murder found in differing versions across these islands, came over as entirely fresh when given the Shee treatment.

The band are obviously having fun on stage and in the second set that came across strongly, but it would be good to see them giving more of themselves to the audience throughout.  The introductions were often all too brief, when a bit more background and some sharing of the traditions the band have come from would add to the interest.  (To be fair I was feeling knackered after pulling an all-nighter for the election results, so it may have just been me feeling jaded!  Or maybe the band are political junkies too....)  That said they had us all right with them by the end, with the closing number of the second set (I didn't catch the name) a  journey of musical styles with some emotive disharmonies thrown in.

Good to see some traditions still being adhered to, and Amy Thatcher's brief clog dance in centre stage was a highlight of the night.   A band of many talents.

Oh, and next time I hope to see Rachel Newton's harp fully pimped up in yellow with black strings....  #youhadtobethere

Mermaid, Traverse

Lonely teenager Blue, rejected by her wealthier schoolfriends because her father's unemployment means she's wearing the 'wrong' trainers, looks to her own imagination for comfort and writes her own retelling of the classic Hans Christian Andersen tale, taking the darkness of the original and focussing it on the modern world.  The little mermaid seeks to become human and earn the love of her Prince, but the price she pays is the loss of her beautiful voice, and with it her own sense of identity.  She can only recover that voice when she has the courage to be herself again.

And if that all sounds a bit too heavy handed then, sadly, that's too often how the script comes across.  It takes aim at a number of worthy targets.  There's our media obsession with women's physical appearance, and the manner in which the image of celebrity is manufactured.  The meaninglessness, human destruction and toxic legacy of war and the consequent flight of refugees across the water.  Teenage bullying and even bulimia.  And, clunkiest of all, the Prince's reflections on the futility of human existence.  It's all a bit too scattergun and ends up saying little through trying to say too much.

There's not a lot of levity to be had either, although a Macbethified coven of sea witches give over some laughs, plus the only genuine moment of horror in the performance.  And the silent pantomime of the beauticians transforming the now human mermaid into a stereotypical princess is the funniest scene of the play.

Despite these difficulties there are some excellent performances from the cast, with all but Blue and the mermaid taking on multiple roles.  Finn Hanlon makes the best of what he's been given as the Prince, but it's Polly Frame as the Queen, Blue's mother and the mermaid's grandmer who does most to ground the production.

If much of this sounds negative there's still much to enjoy.  The staging is imaginative, with the mermaid and her sisters emerging from under the stage, which is raised up like a seaside pier.  Storms and war and media scrums are all well realised, properly dramatic.  There is impressive ensemble physicality in conveying these scenes, with some intricate choreography and haunting singing, whilst the movements of the mermaids across the set are balletic in their beauty.  Add in a chorus of local girls swaying on either side of the stage and you have some memorable visual and sonic tableaux.

But that beauty never quite makes up for the over stretched script, which begs for a greater sense of focus.  Mind you there was one of ultra-contemporary relevance, whether intentional or not.  The Prince, faced with taking on responsibilities he has no desire for, says that a life of great privilege leaves him unprepared to know anything of any use or value.  Now isn't that something to ponder before we place an X on the ballot paper tomorrow?

Dean Owens and the Whisky Hearts, Traverse Theatre Bar

Edinburgh's finest singer/songwriter?  Naw, scrub that.  Leith's finest singer/songwriter.  There, that sounds better, and gives the man the importance he deserves.

It must be more than a decade since we first happened upon Dean, playing solo as support act to the magnificent Capercaillie, and we loved his voice and songs immediately.  The beautifully sad My Town, his anthem to Edinburgh, became the track on his CD that always got to me.  We haven't had many opportunities to see him since, but he's never made us doubt that initial assessment.

Tonight saw the launch of his new album, Into the Sea, in front of a packed out home town crowd.  Backing him were the Whisky Hearts, his five piece band with drums, bass, keyboard, fiddle and guitar.  We got songs from the new album, and some old favourites.  For the opening tunes of the second set Dean came on solo, just voice guitar, and mouthie, to give us some sadder numbers, with the band coming back out half way through the third song.

And that voice was in fine form tonight.  Mellow, heartfelt, with a harder edge when the going gets rockier, Owens has a distinctive tone, East of Scotland with a Nashville slant to it.  The backing band was tight, with wailing lead guitar to lift the spirits and gentle fiddle adding romance to the ballads.

There are some memorable tunes, but it's the lyrics that are the most important part of the deal, telling tales from real life and connecting emotionally.  It was a genuinely moving moment to hear the whole audience join in with the chorus from A Man From Leith, Dean's tribute to his father.

The gig ended with the band in full rocker mode and the crowd fully fired up.  Exhilarating.   Dean Owens deserves to be much, much better known.

Dallahan, Pleasance Cabaret Bar

We regularly get to see bands and musicians we haven't come across before.  Some might be fun on the night, but make no lasting impression.  Others stay in the mind long after the event, and there were two in particular who stood out in 2014.  Dallahan are a Scots/Irish/Hungarian band who blend influences from all three cultures, and more besides, to come up with their own unique arrangements of traditional music and their own tunes.  Dallahanisation, if you will.

The line up features guitar, double bass, button accordion, fiddle, and the multi talented Ciaran Ryan on banjo, mandolin and fiddle.  There's fast sets and slow, with Eastern European melodies bundled up with the Celtic.  The arrangements are based around the interplay between the instruments with the combinations of sounds carrying the theme constantly changing.  They look in tune with one another, and there's plenty of scope for improvisation.  These are very talented musicians you are seeing here.

Iced on to this musical mixture are the fine vocals of guitarist Jack Badcock.  It's not a voice that shouts 'folk singer', having something of a croonerish quality.  Which serves to add more to the distinctive Dallahan sound.  Jack has a beautiful tone, imaginative phrasing and a wide vocal range.  From the mournful Katy Dear to the up beat Carrick-a-Rede he's able to bring a fresh interpretation to trad ballads.  And raise a laugh with their regular encore piece, Shame and Scandal in the Family.

A special mention to Stuart on bass, playing his first gig with the band, and new enough to be playing off the page.  I did wonder how many rehearsals he'd managed to have as he wore a slightly worried look for much of the gig!  But he rarely put a string wrong and provided a solid foundation layer to the sound.  All the same I did miss their regular bass man, if only for the joy there is in watching him perform.  One the coolest and most charismatic musicians I've seen.

The one and only Dallahan album to date gets a lot of play in the Crawford household, so we're looking forward to hearing the new one early next year.  If you get a chance to see these guys live, grab with all the enthusiasm you have available.  They won't disappoint.

Andy Cutting

Once again to the house, once again to see a musician we've seen many times before, in a variety of line ups, but never playing solo.  Andy Cutting is a squeezebox player.  In much the same way you'd say that Mark Knopfler can strum a bit.

Cutting explained why he wouldn't be singing (he's dire) and gave us an explanation as to why the two beautiful instruments he was playing, artworks in their own right, were not melodeons, despite common usage of the term.  The pedant in Andy insists they must be known as Diatonic Button Accordions.  And then he pulled up his third instrument for the night, a smaller, scruffier cousin to the other two.  This time an actual melodeon, which only has one row of ten keys for the melody.  All of which might have been quite tedious to listen to from many a performer, but Andy's charm, enthusiasm and humour are too engaging for such an outcome.

And that's part of the joy of a Cutting gig.  He's full of fascinating trivia, will tell you about the origins of the tunes, the people he's played with, places he's had musical experiences.  There's the tale of how he came to make one of those Diatonic Button Accordions (he's got me at it now), or the Swedish music workshop where the fiddlers outnumbered the box players by fifty to one.  All told in a measured, self deprecating style, with Gallic shrugs and expressions, and a way of making you feel in on the joke.

All of which is just bonus material because the focus is on the music.  English Morris, Scandinavian Polskas, Quebecois fusion, Andy brings a wide range of sources to his set list and his own tunes (which he insists he doesn't 'compose', he just 'makes them up).  Cutting is a craftsman of the variation, each melodic line subject to minor transformations that keep the simplest of themes alive.  Simple but beautiful.

A soft voice, a relaxed musical style and a gentleman.  A gentle way to spend an evening.