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.

Kris Drever and Boo Hewerdine, Pleasance Cabaret Bar

Two superb musicians.  Two excellent singer songwriters.  Two distinctive voices.  Two of the nicest guys on the folk scene.  One of the most virtuosic guitarists around and one truly great songwriter.  We've seen these two many times before, solo, in all sorts of other line-ups, together on stage as members of a band, but never before as a duo.  The tickets were purchased months ago and we'd been looking forward to this one ever since.

The night opened with Kris performing a couple of solo numbers, explaining that he and Boo had got together so recently that they hadn't had time to write enough material for the whole show.  But it's never a hardship to listen to this man.  Then Boo emerged, provided backing vocals and guitar for another couple of Kris numbers, and delivered some solo material of his own.  Plus a lot of laughs.  Mr Hewerdine was on fine funny form with Kris a perfect foil for his dry wit.

In the second half they gave us the new songs that have gone onto their Last Man Standing EP, with each taking turns to deliver the lead vocal.  All immediately likeable and I was delighted to hear Five Past Two in the Afternoon was going to be on the disc, a song that I loved when I first heard it at Kris' gig in February.  The one about having an unproductive day, that felt like it was describing my life.

Throw in a few of Boo's classic songs and great guitar solos from Kris and it all added up to one of the best gigs of the year so far.  The packed house had been whipped into a fine frenzy by the end and raised the volume for the encore.  Mr Drever gave us his version of Boo's evocative Harvest Gypsies, then Mr H had the audience joining in on Sweet Honey in the Rock, an excellent up tempo number to round off the night.

Looked like the CD sales went well too, and I'm looking forward to playing the EP, and Boo's latest solo album.  (We've already got pretty much everything else that was on sale - confirmed fans, us.)  I'd love anyone reading this to have a chance to experience the duo live, but there are only two more nights of the tour to go, and they seem to be selling out everywhere.  Deservedly so.

Woman in Gold

Los Angeles at the fag end of the twentieth century.  Maria Altmann (Helen Mirren) is an elderly Jewish Austrian who had dramatically escaped from Vienna after the Germans moved in.  When her sister dies Maria finds amongst her papers some evidence that she might have a legal case to have the Gustav Klimt painting, Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I, restored to the ownership of her family.  The painting, a fantasy in gold leaf, is of her Aunt, was stolen by the Nazis, and was by then hanging in a major gallery in Vienna.

She asks the advice of the lawyer son of a friend and he, after much persuasion, agrees to take it on.  They go to Vienna, make little progress, and return empty handed.  After various stops and starts Maria decides she's had enough, but the lawyer, Randol Schoenberg, won't give and begins to treat is as his private obsession.  In the end, years later and after a series of US court actions, they will return to Vienna, justice is done and the portrait, and other paintings, are handed over to Maria.

Interwoven into this storyline are flashbacks showing the child Maria with her aunt, and the young woman Maria who had to make the dangerous break for freedom after the Anschluss brought Austria into the Third Reich.  The latter scenes are the best of the film, with a strong sense of period, and genuine tension as Maria and her husband make their getaway.  This Maria is played by Tatiana Maslany who gives the outstanding performance of the film.  (And if you've never seen her starring in the series Orphan Black you should.  You really should.)

There's also a lovely cameo role for Jonathan Pryce as the Chief Justice of the US Supreme court, who brings humour and wisdom to his brief appearance.

Overall this feels more like a TV movie than anything worthy of the big screen, despite the acting talent on display.  Visually it is drab, with no outstanding images or sequences to burn the eyes.  Which is a sad indictment given the beauties of Vienna that were available.  The direction does little to bring out the genuine drama in the story (which is based on real world events) and the conclusion feels tame and predictable.  There's a taste of what could, should, have been a genuinely moving experience when Maria, and other survivors of the period, stand up in court to testify about the crimes committed against them in the past, a reminder of the real horror behind the tale.

The problem lies mostly with the characters themselves.  For all that we're supposed to side with Maria, and it's certainly impossible not to empathise with what she went through in her early life, she is so often rude, selfish and unpleasant that the occasional softer moment isn't enough to make the viewer warm to her (although that's to take nothing away from Mirren, who is as good as ever).  Of all the lead characters only the Austrian journalist who comes to their assistance emerges as a bona fide good guy, so it's hard to feel engaged.

I also found it sad that the portrait is now hanging in New York, when it is such an important artefact of Austrian culture.

Worth having a watch if it comes on the telly in future, but not really worth going out for.

Andy Irvine

Start at the top.  The first folk act I ever paid to see was Planxty, one of the most famous bands ever to come out of Ireland.  And nearly forty years later I was off to the House to see one of the founding members of said legends.  Andy Irvine has had a long, varied and hugely successful career as musician, singer and songwriter, playing not just Irish music, but with strong influences from North America and Eastern Europe.

He is blessed with a voice that, if not the most technically perfect, has an utterly distinctive quality that makes him immediately recognisable.  Tonight he also played a variety of eight stringed instruments - guitar, mandola, bouzouki - and a confusing selection of harmonicas (confusing to him that is, for he constantly struggled to find the right one for any given number!).

As well as that fine, well-articulated voice and intricate accompaniments what we got was a night of story telling.  Both in the introductory patter, which would set the scene, and in the songs themselves.  There were traditional ballads telling tales of highwaymen and murders, American union songs and self penned numbers telling scenes from Andy's life.  Amongst my favourites from the later category were those telling how he came to realise how acting wasn't the career for him and that he would make music his life; and the months he spent living in Ljubljana trying, unsuccessfully, to get his leg over with any of the local girls.  And I was grateful that he found time to include, as his final piece, my request to sing Woody Guthrie's magnificent tribute to Steinbeck's Grape of Wrath, The Ballad of Tom Joad.  Still brings a tear to my eye.

If there was the odd fluffed line or bum note they were entirely forgiveable from a man who's been such a powerful musical force for more than five decades.  A lovely way to spend an evening.

Match Impressions - Edinburgh Capitals SNL vs Dundee Comets, Scottish Cup Final

Back to Fife Ice Arena for our final hockey fix of the 2014/15 season and to see if the Edinburgh side could put last weeks disappointment behind them and retain the Scottish Cup.  The initial signs were not encouraging when a noticeably understrength Caps side took to the ice.  Even more worrying was the discovery that the missing players included the stars of last weekend, the Hay brothers, and the ever reliable Sean Donaldson, greatly reducing the team's offensive power.  It crossed my mind that tiredness might become an issue in the third period.  Which only proves I'm the wrong person to come to for hockey predictions....

Caps were under pressure from Dundee for much of the first period, and Comets would out shoot them nine to six.  But Mallinson in goal was in great form and nothing was getting past him.  As the period went on Capitals became more and more dangerous on the break which brought about a goal after fifteen minutes, Tait given an empty net to fire into after a Paterson break and shot had got the Dundee defence all crossed up.  Caps kept control for the rest of the period, and ended it without any penalty minutes - a sharp contrast to last Sunday and a key factor in how the match unfolded.

The second was more of the same.  Dundee had most of the shots on target, Mallinson kept on saving, and Caps got the only goal of the period. That came less than three minutes in with Joel Gautschi the scorer.  Comets never seemed to have a man in the right place at the right time when it came to scoring.  The biggest worry for Edinburgh came near the end of the twenty minutes when Kieran Black was floored by an illegal hit and took a while to get to his feet.  Although he went off for treatment he was back on the bench within a minute and would go on to play an important part in third period events.

Did I say tired?  The final twenty minutes were almost all Edinburgh.  Caps found themselves with a five on three powerplay and little more than two minutes into the period Gautschi netted again, this time the assist coming from that man Black.  Two more minutes before Joel was in for his hat trick.  Dundee responded with their own pressure, but the same faults in front of goal were apparent, and their indiscipline began to be exposed.  Just past the fifty minute mark Caps scored twice in thirty seconds.  The first by Ireland, with Black again a significant factor in the build up, then Tait getting his second.

What had been a tense encounter was now defused, captain Blackburn kept them focussed and when the seconds ran down Caps were 6-0 winners of the Scottish Cup.  Man of the Match award went to Mark Paterson, who certainly had an excellent game (and never seemed to stop smiling), although my own choice would have been Gautschi, not just for the goal, but as the most consistently creative man on the ice.

It's a shame so few Caps fans made the journey over the water (most of those behind us seemed to be the team's mothers!) because it was a perfect way to end off the year.

Broth (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

The last in this season of A Play, a Pie and a Pint, so I went traditional and had the old Scotch pie, and a pint of Traverse.

Unusually for these short dramas, which normally have a cast of only two or three, there were five actors appearing, a reflection of the complex interactions and steady flow of revelations in the script.  Broth is a black comedy that delivers well on both elements of that term.  It opens with Grandma Mary sitting at her kitchen table, nibbling a biscuit, whilst daughter Sheena and granddaughter Ally stand by, looking horrified.  Not from a dislike of digestives, but because Granddad Jimmy is sat there.  Head on the table, the tablecloth soaked with blood, flowing from a big gash in the back of his head.

But Mary seems more concerned about the broth boiling away on the stove, indeed she appears unaware that Jimmy is doing anything more than sleeping.  Sheena and Ally try to understand the situation, uncertain if they should be calling for an ambulance, or the police, or see if they can cover up for the old lady.  A blood stained kettle gives a strong clue as to what may have happened....

Then Granddad jumps up, not so dead after all, and we begin to learn more about the man we'd thought deceased.  The arrival of Patch, Jimmy's old friend, who had been with him before he made his way home, brings further insight into his character.  By the time Mary finishes off her husband, this time using the broth as her murder weapon, the reasons why she has finally reached breaking point have become clear, to the point where Ally might just be ready to finish him off herself....

All five cast members give excellent performances.  Kay Gallie, as Mary, shows great timing and deadpan delivery to bring out the laughs, and Ron Donachie is a suitably manic and menacing presence as Jimmy.  The bleaker moments are genuinely chilling amidst the comedy.  Broth is well worth tasting.