Tuesday 16 November 2010

The London Word interview

Oooooooh just a little interview I did for The London Word, a rather cool online magazine, written by the delectable Miss Lottie O'Conor. She has grasped the essence of my often confused, often controversial self splendidly.
 

Hang on. Did I just go and self-promote?

Yup.
 
 

Tuesday 9 November 2010

Passion, The Donmar


THE show that everyone has been RAVING about. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, naturellement. Passion is one Sondheim musical that I know nothing of. It is the winter flu of my musical theatre world - should I prepare for it and am I going to get it? WELL I went totally unprepared, not knowing the story, music, NO nothing not-a-thing, and I was READY to understand the secrets that lay beneath. Don't say that I'm not daring...
 
Director Jamie Lloyd has created a beautifully atmospheric production - lighting and audio are excellently and effectively employed to summon up beating, warm rain or daylight streaming through towering shutters, perfectly evoking the grandeur of 19th century Italy, where the story unfolds. An overall, haunted feel is created throughout the one-act production, with candles musting the air and costume designed to reflect the stark contrast between the masculine military austerity and the female blithe spirit.
Lloyd's direction is faultless. Movement is a sublime mixture of ethereal poise ruptured by measured, soldierly precision. The narrative is painted in the space romantically, with dream-like quality. Spellbinding moments occur as the all-male ensemble lend their combined voices to Sondheim's closely-knit harmonies.
 
Scarlett Strallen as the refined, lithe Clara floats balletically across the space, entertwining with synchronic scenes at the provincial army out-post as she reads and writes letters to her love, Giorgio. She is as graceful as ever.
 
David Thaxton's Giorgio however was rather too naive, leading my mind far too swiftly and easily to the predictable conclusion. HE.IS.DOOMED. (I imagine that I might not have been so quickly and innocently led astray myself. SCHOOL BOOK). However in 'No one Has Ever Loved Me' he displays a depth of performance that would have been welcome in his interpretation of Giorgio throughout the rest of the piece. 
 
Elena Roger, the minute ingenue, conjured up the haunted Fosca with powerful, disturbed affliction. Her delicate, exotic voice lilts so skillfully from piercing pain to soft despair and her slight frame commands attention and caution as the troubled and difficult Fosca in equal amounts. Fosca's 'Loving You' was disturbing, tender and quite simply wonderful. Here, Sondheim and lyricist James Lapine have superbly immersed themselves within the fragile neuroses of a woman. As that wise devil William Congreve said, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' Except Fosca is never quite as simple as this quote suggests. Hats off to Elena. She plays in 6D.

The piece, however, is flawed. Above all, this is a tale of love, as the title 'Passion' suggests. Yet, with a score that mostly sails upon one orchestral tide and timbre throughout, the passion feels somewhat overlooked in lieu of romantic sadness and longing. Whether it be at fault of the production or the piece, it is much more affecting to watch people struggle to rise above grief and pain. I rather fear that this epic tale, drenched in a gothic romanticism, allowed the collective cast to drown a little in theirs.
Sondheim's presentation of intertwined love affairs is tangible and studied for the most part, yet there is little comic relief in his composition. Rather, Sondheim has here focussed upon the serious side of love, but without any dramatic or notable musical climax. I felt that, in terms of musical composition, 'subtle' is the key word here. Thus, I remained in an emotional limbo, a kind of wishy-washy dream. Normally Sondheim is the master of musical ebbs and flows that govern emotion in his works. Yet, with only one exposed storyline in Passion, it evident that musical colour is limited.
 
Passion as an emotion is, alas, rarely a wishy-washy affair. Instead, it is achingly raw, and throws one left to right with little care for the consequences. This production remained steadfast, albeit true, to its path straight down the middle. Never quite reaching far enough out of its comfort zone.
 
Was 'PASSION' the passionate ache that I had hoped for? Sadly, no.

Friday 5 November 2010

Channelling Chanel

I'm a little bit in love with silent film actress Dorothy Janis. 
 

And oh how we all love Marlene.
Meine Damen Dietrich could very well step right on to any catwalk. 
She is a true androgynariun.
Yes I made that word up.
 
Chin up lads, but she was on it years ago. 



On that note...
Chanel adverts win, every time.





Thursday 4 November 2010

Three Little Maids

The game, my friends, is afoot! Word on the street is this. There will be a fancy free, pretty darn hot cabaret group called Three Little Maids, skulking around the cobbled lanes o' London Town. Tomorrow night. Twill be a dish fit for the gods. Now thereby hangs a tale...
Remember, remember the 5th of November... Believe, for, as good luck would have it, I am one of these Maids. I bear a charmed life, indeed.

Tom James Photography (2010)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
Boguslaw Maslak Photography (2010)


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  



We Three Little Maids are a musical trio composed of Kate, Alex and Jen, three well-bred fillies specializing in 1940s-style close harmony singing, with a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’. With a set of delicious and delicately- spiced songs – those familiar, those familiar-with-a-twist, and those as fresh and unweathered as our bonnie complexions – we create our own curious brand of cabaret. 
 
Interested? Dost this set your teeth on edge? Read more...
 

Tom James Photography (2010)















www.threelittlemaids.net

Go on, have a look at our website. Though this be madness, there is method in it. It's a fools paradise for retro-rebels, musical miscreants, jazz jockeys, and those who like a jolly good witticism. We are as merry as the day is long.

Come join us on our wild goose chase tomorrow night 5th November, 10.30pm at the Old Vic Pit Bar, The Cut, London.



Brevity is the charm of wit, so stiffen your sinews and prepare yourselves for short shrift and hot-blooded high time.

Now dost thou understand all that? For my part, it was all Greek to me.
If you are exceedingly well read, you may notice that fine master Shakespeare has made his mark on my mind today. Oh, he dost play the fool with the Queen's English! Such stuff as dreams are made on...Et tu, Brute.
 

Boguslaw Maslak Photography (2010)




Thursday 28 October 2010

Stealth health

Do you find yourself glazing over when the words trans-fat, omega or GM creep in to a discussion? 
Do I really understand all of this???
Umm, no. 
Why is healthy eating full of options that all seem so scientific? 
What ever happened to water, fruit, vegetables, meat and potatoes? 

I feel robbed of the simple life.
 
Tracy Emin
I know, I know, I know. 
It's easy, right? 
Proteins beat Carbohydrate. Carbohydrate beats Fats. Good Fats beat Bad Fats. 
And so on. 
Like paper scissors stone for our budding lab-loungers. 
But for me? My school actually asked me not to take Chemistry and Physics GCSE. 
It's not my thing. Too much information, and I switch off zzzz...
 
This, however, doesn't mean that I don't want to be a goddess of health. 
I try! I've got  a cupboard in my kitchen full of tinctures, supplements, vitamins. 
It's all a bit much. 
I tend to just stick to my Multi-vitamin and hope for the best.
 
Whenever I go into a health food shop (which, actually, is fairly frequent - I like the smell of shops like that. Perhaps in a vain attempt to breathe in health), I am overwhelmed by the hundreds of lentils, pulses, organic, sugar-free, dairy-free, non-carb, non-taste... 
This is when I break out in to a gentle sweat. 
Surely I can't eat, let alone afford, all of these things! 
I make a bee-line for the hempseed 9-bars, pay, and run.
 
Wouldn't it be nice and helpful to know a bit about a few things that make for a healthy diet? Along with a comprehensible explanation why?
 
Then check out gorgeous Tomm's blog: http://thehealthfoodcompanion.blogspot.com
For the science dunces like me, whom far prefer healthy eating this way:

 



Friday 22 October 2010

Simon Annand, The Half

My coffee table FRIEND - this AMAZING book is keeping me company today. Simon Annand shoots the DREAMBOATS of theatre. Hummunah hummunaah...
Photobucket
V&A 2010

Photobucket

Tuesday 19 October 2010

Departure Lounge

Think Damien Rice meets The Hoosiers, then throw in some early 70's Bowie and the witty, street-y charm of The Streets. But as a MUSICAL? Surely not. Yet, under the arches of Waterloo, five singers and two acoustic guitars are making it work. And some.


It's a treat to watch. Departure Lounge is a show that doesn't take itself too seriously, dropping ridiculous one-liners all over the shop (Steven Webb as Ross repeatedly pulls pure genius out the bag); it's fun, it's a bit rude and we all laughed. I actually laughed a lot.
 
The story energetically throws the spotlight upon the unfortunate British stereotype - Brits abroad. The cretins of fry-up Spain. Yuck. We follow four lads who await their delayed flight home, recounting their trip of promiscuous discovery. Writer Dougal Irvine shines his rose-tinted aviators on these would-be yobs, turning them into likeable and recognisable beings.
 
All voices are strong, and each character (and indeed, performer) stands out in their designated 'moment' of self-discovery. These 'moments' within the writing perhaps teetered on the brink of self-indulgence, yet they were played neither objectionably nor were they over-indulged. In particular, the sound levels were spot-on, with the acoustic accompaniment layering nicely underneath dulcet, estuarine vocal patterings. Direction by Pip Minnithorpe was slick & accomodated the small stage well.
 
The almost brand new space at Waterloo East is quite a little find, and I'm sure it will see many fitting and fresh projects tread across its boards. Departure Lounge may move to a larger home in the future, but all involved should be happy with the chat that this show has generated here. Producers Perfect Pitch bubble just underneath the surface of West End Musical Theatre. And, please god, may they continue because they keep this industry EXCITING.


Sunday 17 October 2010

Spa days

I am one lucky lady. Friday was a mega day. I was treated by my boyfriend to an afternoon of luxury at the Agua Spa in the Sanderson Hotel. 
A full-body massage & Eve lom facial later, and I feel sublime. 
Both treatments evocatively saunter towards the 'no pain no gain' side of beauty, but who cares when the results are this good. 
I feel like a new-born lamb.


Damien Hirst, Away From The Flock (1995)

Ceiling to floor white curtains create the different areas - I soon get over the overwhelming desire to pick up pace and flail like a nymph through this ethereal maze of dreams a la Labyrinth, but instead settle down in my white chaise longue for a post-pummel rest. 

Silence wafts through this curtained land. None of us bold enough to utter a sound.
 
Boyfriend and I (he has come along for the ride) float towards the steam room, then recline in our very own cubby hole with TV. We opt for some female wrestling. And the cheese board.
 
On our way out the hotel bar is buzzing. Oh, and if you decide to treat yourself here, take the lift. The interior is, basically, space. Yes. Space. In 3D. A 3D space lift. My inner-child: released. Home we go.

Thursday 14 October 2010

Kate Spade

 

So last night I went to Kate Spade's pop-up store in Covent Garden. Pretty cool. The Henrietta Street townhouse is usually somewhere for revellers to step down, take a break, sometimes leaving their regurgitated 2-for-1 dinners casually leaning on the lampost opposite. I was happy to see a clean sweep to the entrance hall, white floorboards and coloured stripes welcoming me into what is a rather dreamy venue.
 
Kate Spade adorned the walls and coat stands whilst the slimline beauties and bloomingdale bohemians mooched up and down the stairs to the husky waves from Californian group, The Like. I have to say Kate Spade pushes my fun button - clean lines, bright colours, and some really cute pieces. 
 
Her clutch bags. I WANT!
 



My comrade Helen and I, in her own words, 'loosened up a bit' by the end of the night, thanks to hefty glasses of fizz and barbershop-straw Long Island Iced Tea. Camilla Rutherford breezed past like a beautiful swan (love her) of Englishness. Other lithe limbs toted River Island bags, which on first glance had Marc Jacobs all over them. Sly.
We hit the retro photo booth, a couple of times in fact. 
 
Taxi driver wants to discuss if we should withdraw from the EU? Have we more to lose than gain, what with them wanting to take 6% more of our economy?
 
Hmmmm, I ponder this problem. The EU is a private members club surely? And I know that on a night out I would rather be in the comfort of an exclusive club.
 
Isn't that the same with shopping? Instead of impulse internet buying for an instant fix, I would happily flirt for hours with a clutch bag in a dapper London townhouse, only to move in for the kiss on the fifth date. Voluntary restraint. Maybe for a few more dollar. But hey.
Then I know the kiss will be good.

www.katespade.com