Catherine Bennett resumes the weekly look at the performing arts world, with the sad end of Jerusalem, the luck of a cabbie, and French revolt. Do you hear the people sing?
Adam Alcock reviews Nigel Kennedy playing Vivaldi's Four Seasons and his own Four Elements at York Opera House.
Catherine Bennett highlights the trends in the performing arts world today.
Jonathan Cridford reviews 'Ghosts', one of the Freshers' plays for this year.
First up was 24 year old, Jon Richardson. Jon is a frantic fellow, announcing his entry on to the stage with a high pitched squeal and a slightly disturbing grin on his face. I’ve always thought that comedians should look slightly freakish and I hate to say that Jon is decidedly average looking, but what he lacks in visual impact the man makes up in well crafted observations transmuted through the mind of an obsessive-compulsive. However, the OCD persona can be a little problematic at times. Whilst his opening vitriolic spiel about the “meaninglessness” of numbers on t-shirts had me nodding as well as laughing, exalting the tessellation and symmetry of Pringles and vehemently damning those who did not use cupboard space efficiently enough was, for me, a little less entertaining: I was reminded of past house mates I’d rather forget, obsessive mothers or perhaps, admittedly, a side of myself I desperately try to repress lest my girlfriend discovers the 'real me'. Of course these are personal issues and this comedian is clearly a talent to watch out for in the future. Unrelentingly energetic in his comic convulsions, Richardson kept the laughs going throughout the gig: think Lee Evans, but with actual psychological problems.
Next up was The Basement’s resident compere, Dan Atkinson. This was the first time I had seen Dan fill a full hour and, as I have come to expect of him, the comedy was top quality. Atkinson looks like a comedian; a kind of lanky Mr. Tumnus fallen on hard times, jaded by city life and resorting to the bottle. Tall and beardy with a cufflink-less shirt, every venting of his spleen is accentuated by a fury of hair and clothing. With shades of the Gervaisian about his performance, Atkinson presents well researched facts and figures, before matching this objectivity with total bigotry. “It’s a fact that human’s express affection most often through visual eye contact” the comedian pointed out, concluding “and that’s why the blind can never truly love”. Bathos is perfectly timed throughout the performance, maintaining the laughs with accessible and articulated subjects from the Socratic Method to Sheffield Meadowhall. I felt at times that Atkinson was gritting his teeth behind his superfluous beard, straining to heckle the suitable targets in the front row, but abstaining at the last moment to remind himself that this was a practice run for much bigger things.
What perhaps affected the gig was what you might call “Fringe anxiety”. Self-conscious jokes about “rewriting” and “the drunken Scottish audience” soon became tedious, detracting from the natural feel of the comedy and leaving some of us feeling a little too much like target practice for our £7 ticket. However, this was not a regular night at The Basement and the gigs I’ve witnessed in the past have shown top quality comedy in a top quality establishment.
To see the final product and enjoy the hundreds of other acts performing at this year’s Edinburgh Fringe, visit www.edfringe.com.
