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.
Bill Bailey played a sell-out performance last night at York Opera House. The last word in musical comedy, the avuncular figure whose previous shows include ‘Part Troll’ and ‘Tinselworm’ is now the centre of a new show: ‘Dandelion Mind’, named for a line in one of his James Blunt parody songs. In all honesty, however, Bailey needs little introduction; he is a true British household name, and has been tipped by the Guardian as approaching the status of a national treasure.
The show was everything you’d expect of such a seasoned performer; Bailey veterans and newcomers alike will not be disappointed by his confident, impeccably timed set, his attention to detail, and his whimsical effervescence. Not only that, but his devotion to music is obvious - and although he doesn’t need to prove his considerable multi-instrumental talents to anyone, they are of course obvious in every song.
The material covers a vast range, at times observational, political, poetical or simply found - although I would say that the political world got a more detailed appraisal than it has done on previous tours. He trips effortlessly between topics, and it’s obvious within the first few minutes (if you couldn’t already tell from the audience demographic) that this really is an evening for everyone.
The show got off to a strange start with some truly baffling audience interaction - featuring a woman, who turned out to be a man, and thought she was from Belgium, and then realised that he wasn’t - which Bill humorously attempted to wade through. The result was both performer and audience collapsing in heaps of giggles, and just went to prove that a true showman can really work with whatever you throw at them.
I think that one of the most unique things about Bailey’s act is that it’s a musical show that is not dependent on music. It is, of course, enriched by it and expanded by it, but Bill does not need his Oud (an Arabic instrument which resembles a half-onion) or his car-horn-instrument (I can’t explain, suffice it to say that it’s the ONLY way to enjoy Gary Numan’s classic track); he’s too funny on his own. The instruments are just an extra treat, and believe me, that’s exactly what they are.
The tradition of introducing the audience to new musical instruments is still going strong, and this time the futuristic bit of technology was a Tenori-On, a Japanese image-instrument, whereby the performer is able to ‘play’ shapes. Sounds bizarre? Of course it is, but you really haven’t lived until you’ve seen Bill Bailey playing what he calls ‘the music of hate’ by programming a swastika into the machine. It’s wrong, but it sounds so Reich.
Years of touring, and Bailey has proven himself once again to be only improving with age. He doesn’t need to swear, or to rely on his many and varied instruments; he’s a real personality, and his humour flows effortlessly from that. I can’t convince you that it’s a great idea to go see Bill Bailey live, because you already know that’s the case. If you need one final push to book a ticket though, I’ll happily oblige: you’ve already been missing out for far too long - just do the sensible thing, that’s all I’m saying.
You must log in to submit a comment.
