Lau, St Giles

 

On as part of Edinburgh's First Footin' series for New Years Day, which saw a variety of city centre locations turned into venues for free music, this was the offering in St Giles' Cathedral, a spectacular venue with an equally special band taking part. They performed four forty five minute sets across the afternoon, to a fresh audience each time.

After a short reading from a Len Pennie poem, the compere brought on Kathryn Joseph, who played keyboard and sang a couple of songs. While clearly talented I find much of Joseph's material too dreary and repetitive to be enjoyable, with the lack of clarity to her voice leaving the listener with few clues as to what the song is about.

For her final song she was joined by the trio Lau, and that provided a distinct step up, partly from the song itself having a bit more life to it than the others, mostly due to the quality of the arrangement and backing vocals.

Joseph moved off and we were left with the trio Lau, and short set that took them back to their roots. Simply acoustic, only Martin's accordion, Aidan's fiddle and Kris' guitar and vocal. It was refreshing to see them they way they performed these fifteen years and more ago. As tight as ever, but still freely improvising, this was grin inducing, body moving stuff, and a perfect lift for New Year.

Dean Owens and the Sinners, Traverse

 

The now-traditional pre-Xmas home gig for Dean, this time with his four piece band, the Sinners, was as rowdy as ever, and even more emotional.  This was the first time without his parents in attendance (his mother was ill), so it was a tough one for the main man

The band featured long time associate Craig Ross on guitar, Adam McMillan on upright bass, and Philip Cardwell and Charles Dearness on trumpet.  The latter formed an important element of the night, because for the first half Dean mostly offered up material from his most recetn trio of albums, all with a strong Tex-Mex feel and brass backing.  That allowed for some very different arrangements on some older material, and that freshness made the familiar feel new.

Owens took an early opportunity to get the audience involved, not just singing along, but humming and whistling too.  Cue much laughter...

The second half opened with Dean playing solo, determined to get through his own tribute to his father, The Man from Leith.  With his voice starting to crack up from the emotion this time it was the crowd's turn to help him out, as we knew the words as well as he did.  It was one of those moments only live music can provide.  Ross helped him out with his next number, and then the full band returned to provide a rockeir feel to procreedings.  The crowd involvement level remained high, and the final number, appropriately The Last Song, was belted out by every voice in the bar, even those new to Dean's work.  

One final turn of the screw.  Deam solo to sing his mother's favourite song, After the Rain.  Another notch on the emtions, another test for the audience vocal chords.  Lovely stuff.

In all this I've said nothing much about the musicianship, which was solid, Ross as impressive a guitarist as ever. And Dean's vocals, some understandable cracking aside, is still as distinctive and plaintive as ever.

But this wasn't a night that was just about the music.  The Owens pre-Xmas gig is always a special one.  More so both for the reasons above, and for this being the final Travertse gig to be put on by Soundhouse, who have done so much for live music in this city.  All the best to Douglas and Jane-Anne in the future.

England and Son, Traverse

Something a bit different, at least in terms of format. For the section before the interval Mark Thomas emerged without fanfare, sat in a chair centre stage, and chatted to the audience, as himself. He explained how he first met the writer (Ed Edwards) of the play we were about to see, and the origins of the play itself. An important element of their working relationship is that both work with addicts at a centre in Manchester, teaching them drama and giving them the means to express themselves in a more literate fashion than they might have managed previously. Thomas being Thomas, this comes complete with impressions of the people he worked with, and was hilarious. But also gave a flavour of what it's like to be a recovering addict.

The play itself follows, where Thomas plays the 'son' of the title, as well as myriad other characters as they crop up. It's an often moving portrayal of an abusive childhood, and how the lack of self-worth that engenders that can feed into addiction and repetition of the cycle. The action is set during the eighties, where the actions of the Thatcher regime resulted in mass unemployment, the growth of the black economy, and an exponential increase in drugs use.

That Thomas' character is surnamed England, in the eponymous country that was in such great social decline, seems a heavy handed way of hammering home the metaphor we're presented with. But the script largely avoids a swerve into didacticism, and generates sympathy for 'son', very much the victim. It helps greatly that Thomas is the performer, with his trademark high energy, motormouthing style, his ability to improvise interactions with the audience, and deliver laugh upon laugh, yet still wring the pathos from the character's sodden lifestyle.

Hugely entertaining, and makes it's point well. Definitely worth seein

Boo Hewerdine and Heidi Talbot, Traverse

 Each a folk-world star in their own right, this very much a partnership of equals. Heidi's voice clear and a thing of beauty, Boo's expressive and calm. There's no fancy guitar work, but solid accompaniments enhancing the vocals, and some lovely harmonies when they combine. Each took it in turn to sing, both digging into their deep (very, very deep in Boo's case, going back to his days with cult band The Bible) back catalogues. A mix of tempos and subjects, with Heidi adding the traditional Bedlam Boys, all mashed up with Parton's Jolene.

All this and a comedy act too. Boo knows how to tell a good story, and his dry humour had the audience in stitches, while Heidi had a few tales to tell too. Both got the room singing along with them at times, notably on Boo's 'hit' song, Patience of Angels.

The encore gave us a duet of the classic What a Wonderful World, as made famous by Louis Armstrong, but this was one of the best versions I've ever heard.

A wonderful gig that flew by too quickly.

Frank & Percy, The Other Palace Theatre, London

 Percy (Ian McKellen) and Frank (Roger Allam) connect over dog walks on the Heath, and start to arrange to be out there at the same time each day.  First comes the usual dog-owners chit chat, but as the friendship grows they learn more about one anoother.  Frank, a retired seventyish teacher, is a widower still trying to find a place in life after the death of his beloved Alice.  Percy is an eightyish professor and controverialist, still actively writing and being published, who has long ago settled into the single life since her broke up with 'husband' (they were never officially married) Dennis.  

This casual acquaintenceship grows into something much deeper, and physical, as they meet more often, and Frank visits Percy's flat.  And that relationship finds itslef challenged by tsome of the changes which are an inevitable part of the ageing process.

In some ways the script is disappointingly devoid of any real meat, and what we have is very much in the light comedy genre, with both performers having fun whilst using their considerable skills to milk the laughs dry.  

That's not to say it doesn't introduce some more profound themes, but they are largely glossed over in favour of the funnies.  It's still good to see a late-life love affair played out before us, still too much a rarity in theatre and cinema.  Desire, lust and love are all there, along with illness, impotence, grief and loneliness.  Frank's recogntion of himself as a bi man feels a bit heavy handed, (although his Pride costume will live in the memory!). and that line of self examination is a recurring motif.

The set is minimal but flexible, the scene locations cleverly deliniated, and custume changesd, such as they are, often take place on stage.  

While it was a little disappointed to be oresented with somethign so lightweigt, this was more than compensated by seeing two old master paint their pictures before you.  Great fun.

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

 Disfunction is the truth or dare card game, with a bit of role play thrown in, that sisters Moira (Maureen Beattie) and Melanie (Maureen Carr) have played, and developed, over the course of their lives. It's high risk stuff, or can be if played with a passion, because it can unearth secrets that are sometimes best left alone.

But the siblings are in dire financial straits, so their goddaughter Tanya (Betty Valencia) has proposed selling Disfunction to a gaming company, and they are to give a demonstration, via Zoom, in a few minutes. Are they ready?

They start playing and secrets and tensions emerge. How far are they prepared to go to get the contract? And are the real sisters as dysfunctional as their game play suggests?

The opening twenty minutes feel a bit too slow, and the games itself is far too confusing for audiences to understand in a 50 minutes drama, but the pace, and laughter, picks up as things get more heated. Secrets and lies, ridiculous dares. While the performances are excellent (although Valencia was often hard to hear properly), and Carr in particular gets to show off her gifts for physical comedy (her cake eating sequence is hilarious), the confusion of the game leaks into the script. It's a ll a bit too muddled to make any real sense.

Fun, enjoyable, but ultimately unsatisfying.

Meetings With The Monk (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 Performed and written by Brian James O'Sullivan, this is a semi-autobiographical tale of how he emerged from a low point in his life.

I say "tale", but that would be to minimise the cleverness of the "play" structure. Over the 50 minutes we see 3 Brians - the performer, the writer, and the character - as he both tells and deconstructs his story. Oh, and he even does the introduction that, in a more conventional production, would be done my a member of the Traverse staff.

If this sounds confusing the reality is different, as O'Sullivan guides through exactly what he's doing, providing his own narrator as part of the performance. It's all very meta, but done in such an entertaining way that it enhances rather than hinders. He uses a goodly number of props, and all of the space, right into the audience, to keep things mixed up, but the central story is never neglected.

The character Brian has been depressed, and seeks a way forward by spending a period in a monastery. One of the monks, Brother Felix (who, during the meetings, is played by the recorded voice of another actor, and spurs a bit of improv from O'Sullivan), talks with him, revealing his own humanity, ways of dealing with problems, and prompting Brian to look more within himself for what he needs.

It's a hugely entertaining show, full of laughs, but with some serious points to make. And if there's not really any profound ending, no answer to life, perhaps it offers something better than such trite simplicity. One of the best PPPs I've ever seen.