Coveryard II

When: Thursday 14th March

Where: Tooting Tram and Social

Why: Because the first one was so good

Neither my flatmate nor I had ever been to Tooting before, which partly accounts for why upon exiting the tube station we let out shrieks of “A Wilkinson’s!” [her] and “A Primark!” [me]. The other part accounting for this is that we are easily impressed and don’t get out much. But it was a good start for Tooting and we wandered along to the Tramshed in a state of dreamy excitement and dazed pleasure (“I wonder if it’s nice, living in Tooting?”).

This was however our second Coveryard and knowing more or less what to expect, we were pretty excited. We got to the Tramshed early to secure a table (VERY wise considering how totally rammed it got later on) and a Mother Flipper burger for our dinner (@motherflipperuk), which was delicious and gave the pub a smoky barbecue-y air for a while, never gonna complain about that. I’m now a fan of the Tramshed as a pub – high ceilings and funky decs, with a good range of ales at the bar, including Doombar, a personal fave. It was as atmospheric as you could want for an innovative music night, especially with the tiled walls and curving tramshed ceiling which was good on the old acoustics front, and with candles glowing on all the tables, chandeliers glinting down on the orchestra and people perched on every conceivable surface in eager anticipation for the tunes.

Tramshed

I have to say, though, that as a venue I think the pub was totally different to and perhaps not as successful as last time’s church – I think it just encourages a more rowdy and congenial atmosphere which is a good thing unless you’re trying to actually hear the acts, which we obviously were. The choir had to struggle to make themselves heard up on the balcony, and there had to be some serious shushing of the crowd before basically every act, which was necessary and I’m glad they got shushed, but was a bit frustrating and school assembly-esque. I think the respectful, peaceful atmosphere of the church was more conducive to this kind of event. Also, the toilets were behind the stage and I bashed into a tuba on my way for a wee, which was embarrassing. 

First of the featured bands was Alaksa, who seemed to be a quietish girl and impossible to search for as there are loads of artists with her name… She was really good though, anyone with more info send it my way! Joyshop were impressively together, with their funky lounge stylings and cool cover of ‘Love will tear us apart’. The format of the evening was similar to last time, with the three main acts interspersed between a few covers by the ensemble and Georgina Hunt, whose cover of Breathe by Sean Paul and Blu Cantrell with a guest rapper was brilliant and invigorating and got everyone going – even the choir up on the balcony were having a bop. This was exactly what the crowd had needed right at the start of the evening to get them going and perhaps to command their attention, rather than it getting slightly lost in the middle of the sets.

DEMS

I’d been looking forward to Dems, and they didn’t disappoint. They perform like a real collective in a little clump of keyboards, and with very pleasing hats. Their originals are great but their cover of T2’s ‘Heartbroken’ was a total winner too. Sadly we had to leave before the end of their set thanks to the massive intervals in between each act, which left the evening dragging on slightly. Obviously part of the character of an evening like this is the DIY element of getting everyone ready, and you wouldn’t expect it to be super-slick, but some of the gaps between acts were way too long and I think didn’t help the rowdy audience’s attention span. Having such beautiful music before you is almost more frustrating when you’re having to ignore the total babble at the back of the pub, but I would blame this on location rather than the audience themselves, as there was a general air of massive appreciation and love for the acts.

Total credit to the organisers though, this is such a great concept for an evening and I'll keep coming back as long as they go. All in all it was a treat to fill my ears with such tunes, and my mouth with delish burgers and ale, and my eyes with fairy lights and nice bearded hipsters, but just make it a bit slicker next time (and bring back the ukuleles!). 

Brixpig x

Light Show

When: Monday 4^th March

Where: Hayward Gallery

Why: … pretty!

I won’t lie to you, I left the Hayward Gallery’s latest artistic offering, the Light Show, with a bit of a headache and feeling generally queasy. I had stagger to the café to have a sit down and a coffee (they do a great mocha) to regain my steadiness before I went on my way. But I’ve always had weird eyes, and to be fair it was a great exhibit.

Favourite elements included the first piece you come upon, the humongous ‘Cylinder’ by Leo Villareal, which is a cascade of light composed of tubing and LEDs flitting about in never-ending patterns. It was mesmerising and easily the one thing in the exhibit that you’d really want to return to. I’d happily have a little version of it in my house. I also loved ‘Water One’ which was made up of bubbly fountains in a darkened room, lit up by intermittent strobe lighting to catch it in all of its various flubbery splashing shapes. I loved this and I’ve always been a big fan of a fountain, but couldn’t tolerate it for long before I started sneezing (extreme variations of light do that to me… it’s definitely a thing, ok) so had to scuttle out again. I soothed my peepers with ‘Wheeling peachblow’ by Dan Flavin, which was meant to recreate the colour of a type of blown glass and although created with fluorescent light was soft, beautiful and simple.

Everyone seemed to be loving Carlos Cruz-Diez’s ‘Chromosaturation’, which comprised of three segments of a room, saturated in red, blue or green light. You have to spend a few minutes in each room to become completely saturated in the colour, which affects every surface including all of us humans in there and apparently gives you a sense of immersion. I just felt a bit like I was standing in a red room, but maybe I didn’t give it enough of a chance…

A curtain led us into a room which contained ‘Slow arc inside a cube’, which was a lamp swirling around inside a cage projecting its shapes onto the walls and ceiling, which made me feel completely sick. Another strange offering was ‘Son et lumiere’ which looked like a cup stuck on an old camembert box, abandoned on a DJ turntable after a party.

In general though it was a unique and ingenious exhibit and an area of art I hadn’t really experienced before, and even if you only appreciate it on the ‘ooooh, twinkly lights!’ level, it’s still worth a visit.

Brixpig x

Taboo! The Musical

When: Sunday 3^rd March

Where: Brixton Clubhouse

Why: TimeOut bargain offer and because my mum loves Boy George

Ten years after it originally debuted in the West End and on Broadway, Taboo! the musical came back in a slightly revised version to the Brixton Clubhouse and I am SO glad it did. This show was like nothing else I’ve seen before. It’s not any old production that could be simultaneously grungy and fabulous, gritty and bitchy and hilarious. It follows roughly the story of Boy George’s early career, wrapped up in a made up story about another young boy (Billy) who comes to London to find fame and who gets wrapped up in a dark and creative world of excess and freakishness. The whole energy of the room before the start of the show was almost intimidating in its atmospheric, dimly-lit cabaret style seating. The Brixton Clubhouse has to be an ideal setting for this show as the venue’s actual bar becomes part of the staging, and gives an immediacy to many of the show’s club scenes and takes you back to the origins of the story itself. There are catwalks threading through the crowd, the cast loll on the bar and dance on the tables and after the interval the brilliant Paul Baker as Philip Sallon sweeps through the audience offering salmon pinwheels and slashing everyone down with his rapier wit (he culminated his ten minutes or so of audience participation by “sniffing out the lesbians” and sashaying off… brilliant, but also terrifying). There is basically nowhere for the audience to hide – they’re directly involved and right up close to the story and this brings it thuddingly close to home, especially at the dramatic collapse of Marilyn or when Sallon is attacked. It’s intimate and disconcerting and totally in your face.

The cast were SO ridiculously strong, I could not have been more impressed, and I don’t think I have ever seen such beautiful boys up close. Seriously, Paul Treacy and Luke Gage as George and Marilyn respectively were unbelievable: striking, vulnerable and just beautiful. Treacy had Boy George’s mannerisms and voice totally down, and his mesmerising hold over the naïve Billy (played deftly by Alex Jordan Mills) was totally believable. Sam Buttery as Leigh Bowery was also completely mental, but brilliant and outrageous, and not without pathos by the end, when he’s stripped down and being painted by Lucien Freud. Julia Worsley also stood out for me as Billy’s mum Josie, giving a vulnerable, gutsy and very engaging performance, solidified by her incredible voice (and amazing 80s styling!).

The costumes were insanely good, the songs were catchy and clear and I just felt like it was such a brave, crazy and colourful insight into a world I obviously knew nothing about. It’s a delicate balance to pull off something that’s equally emotional and savage, about such a creative and destructive world, but the direction and the casting for this performance were just perfect and I enjoyed it SO much.

Brixpig x  

Carmen

When: Friday 1^st March

Where: Albert Hall

Why: My mum found a special offer in the M&S magazine…

Other than a few hours sat in Durham castle’s great hall supporting my singing housemate at an ‘Opera favourites’ showcase, I don’t have any great experience of opera. I’ve seen the Phantom of it (film version) and obviously the classic ‘What’s Opera, Doc?’ (kill the wabbit!), but never a proper opera. And the only other show I’ve seen in the Albert Hall was John Barrowman a few years ago (sitting at the back screaming ‘nooooooooo!’ when he started to sing ‘Memory’…), so I thought I’d balance that out with something a bit classier.

Firstly, I have to point out that it took me a WHILE to realise that the cast were actually singing in English. I had expected it to be in French like the original (just assumed that you go to the opera and don’t understand what’s going on, standard), but even once I realised this it didn’t help much as it’s pretty hard to hear what they’re saying. Add in the fact that it’s set in Seville so they all have Spanish names and you don’t have a clue where you are. Some lines were all too clear however, which really led me to think that English is not a natural language for opera… At one point the mean lieutenant enters the bar room scene and exclaims “I let myself in!” which left mum and I in a prolonged fit of the giggles.  

The story is basically about a capricious and gutsy gypsy (Carmen, obv) who does some mega flirting with a soldier (Don Jose) who then abandons his childhood sweetheart for her. Things get a bit complicated when he kills his lieutenant in a bar, so he has to run away with Carmen who pretty much instantly gets bored of him. She then falls in love with a fit toreador (Escamillo – great casting, my mum was VERY impressed…), Don Jose is not happy about the situation and kills Carmen while she’s watching the toreador fight. Basically like a normal week on Spanish Eastenders. The actors/singers were all very accomplished and I thought Carmen’s voice was really brilliant, and managed to hold their own against the enthusiastic playing of the Royal Philharmonic.

The space did look great and the staging was inventive and worked well with all the crowd scenes – it was performed more or less in the round, as per the Albert Hall’s shape, and there was a raised platform snaking up to the main stage which was an effective device for all the approaching that went on… We were sitting quite high up and I had noticed that there were trees hanging amongst the Albert Hall’s famous ceiling smarties (that’s what people call them, right?), which were down on the stage after the interval for the scene where they’re all in the woods. The moment the scene changed and the trees rose slowwwwly and spookily back up into the heavens was another cause for hilarity; I couldn’t tell you why but maybe I was reacting to all the serious singing that was going on.

There were points especially at the beginning where I had no idea who was singing or where they were, as there was a lot of crowd action and vigorous milling around, and I thought Carmen was someone totally different for quite a long time, until it became really obvious. But the large scale action was very effective during the climactic bull-fight carnival scene, which was full of colour and action, acrobatics and flames and stilt-walkers… which kind of left the actual finale point of Carmen’s death feeling a bit flat, because after all the verve and bounce of the scene before, one sneaky struggle and stabbing which should have been intense and dramatic just felt a bit forced and uninteresting. I think this was because the show had been all about big scenes and spectacle and so you hadn’t invested so much in the individual characters or got to know them that well, so it was harder to switch over to that mode in the only scene which involved just two people. In general though, the singing and spectacle were pleasing and in parts quite gripping, and I think it was quite a good first opera to have experienced as it’s quite accessible.

I also noticed that the lyrics had been translated by Amanda Holden which caused a huge moment of confusion until I investigated. It’s a different Amanda Holden, obviously.

All in all, I’m not totally put off opera but think next time I’d go for something foreign language and on a smaller scale. Or just stick with Bugs Bunny.

Brixpig x