Paris (Lost Musicals)

This performance of Cole Porter’s 1928 musical Paris presented by Ian Marshall Fisher as the first of this year’s Lost Musicals provided a delightful Sunday afternoon diversion.

Founded in 1990, the Lost Musicals project presents lesser known works by many of the most popular and distinguished American musical theatre composers, lyricists and librettists of the early twentieth century and are ideal for completists, or those seeking some light entertainment (or both). Despite the fact that back-row seats for a show that is essentially a rehearsed reading performed with scripts and devoid of fancy costumes, scenery and props are not cheap at £21, I did not feel as if I had been short changed as the talent and energy on display more than compensated for lack of spectacle.

Paris was created as a star vehicle for Broadway producer and sometimes composer’s E. Ray Goetz’s new French bride Irène Bordoni and was originally offered to Goetz’s brother-in-law Irving Berlin, who gave it to his more suitable Francophile colleague Cole Porter. The plot is one of those bits of entertaining nonsense not dissimilar to a comedy of manners by Nancy Mitford or P.G. Wodehouse (complete with a pompous butler) that gently satirises American-French relations and their ultimate incompatibility. Architecture student and Boston socialite Andrew Sabbot, portrayed by Richard Dempsey (best known as Peter in the BBC’s Chronicles of Narnia), falls for showgirl Vivenne Rolland and wants to make her his wife. Vivienne will only settle down in domestic bliss in Massachusetts (pronounced Must-You-Choose-It) if his mother approves of her. Meanwhile, her leading man Guy, played by a charming, if slightly mature James Vaughn, has other ideas. 

I found it somewhat ironic that although the role written for Mrs Goetz, the hoofer with a heart of gold Vivienne (played here with great pizzazz by Sian Reeves- the only cast member in costume, wearing a gold fringed flapper frock), is great fun and gets to perform the Cole Porter standard and one of his craziest lyrics Let’s Do It with hilarious Gallic manic energy, the show really is stolen by her mother-in-law to be. Anne Reid’s performance as disapproving, teetotal, ultra-respectable Boston matron Cora Sabbot is a joy to behold as she humiliates her son by transforming into a woman of the world who stays out all night, bobs her hair and takes a toy boy (or two).

Would a full-scale revival of Paris, perhaps at the Open Air Theatre, work in 2010? Probably not. There isn’t really enough substance and the score isn’t nearly as full as Anything Goes. I think it is the way in which the musicals of this period are presented that should be adjusted to the times, rather than changing the pieces themselves. For those tired of huge spectacles with little heart, this production that relies only on the actors’ charms and passion for their work and the wit, music and lyrics of Cole Porter shows that small and simple really can be best. 

What's Occurring?

 I've never been a regular blogger, but the past month or so hasn't been easy as my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer after a routine mammogram a week before Christmas and is having surgery next week. I know things are going to be difficult for a while longer, but it really makes me appreciate our wonderful socialist NHS service. I'm also extremely grateful for all the kind comments and words of encouragement from the members of the Virago Modern Classics group on LibraryThing- truly the loveliest corner of the internet. Christmas somehow was more enjoyable than expected, and I'm very grateful for all my presents, including new boots (very useful for keeping my feet dry in the recent snow), some jewellery, plenty of chocolate and three new Persephones (Fidelity, Manja and my own copy of my Persephone favourite, Saplings). I also got a copy of Paul Morel by D.H. Lawrence from my cousin (Lady Chatterley's Lover is the only one of his books that I've read- because I wanted to find out what all the fuss was about), which is apparently an early version of Sons and Lovers. The Oneworld Classics edition is lovely, and reminds me a bit of the Persephone Classics. I'm finding myself coveting several of the books they publish, especially the Russian titles.

In terms of books read, I was really annoyed by Hilary McKay's Wishing for Tomorrow: The Sequel to A Little Princess ('the' sequel? Surely it can only be 'a' sequel unless officially sanctioned by the author). It's quite extraordinary in the way in which Miss Minchin's abuse of Sara and Becky is completely glossed over. Is anyone supposed to buy into the idea that Maria Minchin only turned into a tyrant because she was so much cleverer than a Victorian woman ought to be? Funny that, as Frances Hodgson Burnett herself tells us that Miss Minchin was 'not a clever woman.' If McKay thinks that she, Lavinia and Lottie could live happily ever after in a little house together, that's fine, but I hope Miss Minchin burned in hell. The Brontës Went to Woolworths by Rachel Ferguson was a zany delight- what is about books with 'Woolworths' in the title? (Our Spoons Came From Woolworths was my favourite read of the year). So surreal and yet so deadpan- wonderful. I've finally broken the ice with Elizabeth Taylor as I really loved The Soul of Kindness. A brilliantly delicate, incisive depiction of a woman with a serious Lady Bountiful complex and completely oblivious to the misery she inflicts on others.

One of the highlights of the festive season was Charles Court Opera's production of Dick Whittington at the Rosemary Branch, a panto that truly is a cut above the rest. It's all gloriously un-PC, with sweets and bits of play-dough thrown into the audience, which must violate all sorts of health and safety regulations. Panto is much scarier in a tiny venue as there's a far greater possibility of being singled out by John Savournin's (pictured) Dame, but fortunately (for female audience members with chronic stage fright like myself), her tastes lean towards dads and granddads (I just about passed out with embarassment when my father was chosen as the object of her affection). Apart from that, I loved it, it's such a pleasure to have an entire cast who can sing beautifully, act and tell jokes effectively (not as easy as it sounds). My favourite bit was A Weekend in the Country (one of Sondheim's wittiest and trickiest songs) from one of my absolute favourite musicals A Little Night Music being transformed into A Voyage to Morocco.  Loved Idle Jack doing the Henrik bit at the end. It shows that this panto really is the ultimate in class and wit, and I hope there were other people who got it. There was also a delightful duet for Dick and his cute Welsh lady love Alice (modelled heavily on Stacey from Gavin & Stacey), In Milton Keynes, to the tune of Somewhere That's Green from Little Shop of Horrors. It really annoys me that it's always the same pantos that get all the attention in the press: The Hackney Empire (yes, Clive Rowe is amazing, but once you've seen one of their shows, you've seen them all), whichever one has a 'serious playwright' doing the script (this year, Mark Ravenhill at the Lyric Hammersmith) and the one with the most ludicrous celebrity guest star (Pamela Anderson has to take top honours this year). Still, column inches in the broadsheets hardly makes or breaks a show.

I finally saw Bright Star in early January- what an anti-climax. I was expecting to love it as the subject matter is right up my street and it was being hailed as a masterpiece left, right and centre. I personally found it bit of a nicely designed and shot anemic bore. I'm afraid pretty cinematography doesn't compensate for insipid acting and pedestrian dialogue. The beautiful black and white cat was by far the most engaging character. Still, I'd rather watch that ten more times than It's Complicated once more- dire would be bit of an understatement. Absolutely nauseatingly smug, grotesquely unfunny gastro-lifestyle pornography, full of the most thoroughly unpleasant, self-indulgent spoiled brats with tons of money and no sense. The only time I vaguely cracked a smile was the bit with John Krasinski in the pink pyjamas. I don't know what Meryl Streep was thinking.

I have to admit I nearly started hyperventilating in the office when checking What's On Stage and saw that Shirley Jones is making her London debut. It's hard to express just how intensely I admired her when I was 13- her beautiful voice and radiant performances in Oklahoma!, Carousel and The Music Man made me fall in love with the musical genre. I think I also wanted to be her. In recent years, her politics (supporting George H.W. Bush and his son) and some lousy career moves have left me less than impressed. However, a celebration of her wonderful musical talent in person is something I wouldn't miss for the world. Now, that's something to look forward to.

My name is Julia and I am a Viragoholic

I'm a bad blogger without the discipline to sit down and write. I'm very lucky to live in England, which is full of charity shops and temptations. I started collecting Virago Modern Classics about a year ago and now have about 100. I'm an absolute magpie for them (and Persephones). Unfortunately, I can buy things far more quickly than I can read them and I'm running out of space. There's no chance of my TBR pile running out for quite some time. Let's see, how did I accumulate my most recent purchases pictured above?:

• Blaming and The Return of the Soldier were very kindly sent to me by Mrs B of The Literary Stew. TRotS looks a lot shorter than most of Rebecca West's work (I'm often scared off by length...), so it should be a good place to start.
• I adore Rosamond Lehmann's writing, and was very pleased to find Dusty Answer (which I believe to be many people's favourite) in the Marylebone Oxfam Books, especially as it's one I was considering buying new.
• The Tortoise and the Hare came from Borders. I for one am sorry that they're closing. I remember when the first one opened on Oxford Street- I'd never seen anything like it. I'm so glad a manager wrote back in response to Rachel Cooke's rather smug article. Yes, independent bookshops are lovely, but when a huge business like Borders can't survive competition from the internet, does she really expect small independent bookshops to spring up now that they've closed? (I'm going off topic now, but it still irks me).
• I've been looking for a copy of The Sugar House (in original green to match the other three) ever since I had my heart ripped out by The Lost Traveller, and I thought The Soul of Kindness had an interesting premise.  I managed to show some restraint as there were a few others that looked tempting.
• I found Deborah (I'm always interested in Jewish fiction) and The Play Room in a charity shop I'd never been in before- so I felt as if I had to buy something from them...
•  I was sent to Oxfam to buy one of their special handmade cards for a distant relation about to turn 80, and having read a wonderful review of Lucy Gayheart by Book Snob just a few hours previously, it seemed like providence.

It's been over a year now since the bulk (or at least a great deal) of my re ading became Virago and Persephone based. Some of my favourites so far include The Diary of a Provincial Lady (the one that started it all off, really) by E.M Delafield, Invitation to the Waltz and The Weather in the Streets by Rosamond Lehmann, Our Spoons Came From Woolworths by Barbara Comyns, The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Armin, Mrs Miniver by Jan Struther, The Lost Traveller by Antonia White and of course everything by Angela Carter. It's impossible to love every single book they publish (The Dud Avocado by Elaine Dundy was a recent dud for me, and I normally love quirky coming of age stories), but it's fairly rare to come across one that I won't want to re-visit at some point for whatever reason.

Does anyone else have this 'problem?' What are some of your favourite Virago titles? Of course, the obvious solution would simply not to go into charity shops, but, realistically, I think I need to be more discriminatory with my purchases, however cheap they are. I need to ask myself how likely I am to read it. However, there's always the worry that a week later I'll realise I desperately need it for something and it's terribly rare...

A post with some actual substance will be forthcoming in the not too distant future...

Women Unbound

Participants in this challenge are encouraged to read nonfiction and fiction books related to "women’s studies."

According to a Wikipedia entry, women's studies is an interdisciplinary academic field devoted to topics concerning women, feminism, gender, and politics. It often includes feminist theory, women's history, women's fiction, women's health, feminist art, feminist psychoanalysis, and the feminist and gender studies-influenced practice of most of the humanities and social sciences.

There are three levels for readers:

• Philogynist: Read at least two books, including at least one nonfiction.
• Bluestocking: Read at least five books, including at least two nonfiction.
• Suffragette: Read at least eight books, including at least three nonfiction.

This is the first reading challenge I've decided to take part in- I've always been a little daunted about taking part in reading challenges in case I can't keep up (sometimes I read really fast, sometimes I'm terribly slow), but as this lasts for a year and I have plenty of books on my shelves that would be suitable, why not? These are the books I've chosen so far, but I'm sure more will turn up:

Fiction:
Lady Audley's Secret  by Mary Elizabeth Braddon (nearly finished this...)
Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood
The Crowded Street by Winifred Holtby
Fidelity by Susan Glaspell
Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell

Non-fiction:
An Interrupted Life: The Diaries and Letters of Etty Hillesum by Etty Hillesum
The Wonderful Adventures of Mrs Seacole in Many Lands by Mary Seacole
Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire by Amanda Foreman

Has anyone read any of these? I'd love to hear your thoughts...

And yes, I absolutely consider myself a feminist. In fact, there are few things that irritate me more than the phrase, "I'm not a feminist, but..."

Wives & Daughters

What can I say about American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld, the novel that isn't-a-portrait-of-Laura-Bush-but-really-kind-of-is that hasn't been said already? I hate the Bush administration and everything it stands for and I've never been an admirer of Mrs Bush, but I nevertheless loved this book. I think it's because Sittenfeld writes so empathetically in the voice of a woman whose lifestyle and choice of husband few of us are ever likely to have much in common with. Alice Blackwell née Lindgren is presented as a sensitive, bookish child and teenager, whose life is transformed when she kills a classmate whom she has a crush on in a car accident, starts an affair with his dissolute brother and has an illegal abortion arranged by her (lesbian) grandmother. The often seedy side of life that we never hear about in relation to the (bloody) American Dream. She settles into a life as a spinster-ish elementary school librarian and unexpectedly falls in love with the charming ne'er-do-well son of the richest family in the state. I'm not sure if I can fully believe that Laura Bush is a secret liberal, but I could believe it of Alice Blackwell. I think it's important to separate the two. I like the cover, which is exactly how I imagine Alice to look, but I don't think she rides a bicycle once in the novel and the landscape looks far more Little House on the Prairie than small town Wisconsin...

At Mrs's Lippincote's, the first novel by Elizabeth Taylor is a finely written novel, but not one that really resonated with me. Although it is told from several different points of view, I found it difficult to really connect with any of them. My favourite character was precocious young Brontë-obsessed Oliver- I have to admit that I was a bit like that when I was younger. I was also ambivalent towards Angel, so I wonder what it is that's preventing me with connecting with a writer who, going by my usual tastes and preferences, I ought to love. I have a feeling Taylor is a writer who grows on you and I'm certainly not giving up.

I absolutely loved Singled Out: How Two Million Women Survived Without Men after the First World War by Virginia Nicholson, the best non-fiction work I've read in goodness knows how long. This is my great-grandmother's generation- she was one of four sisters born in the 1880s and 90s and she was the only one who ever married (one lived with her lover for years but never married him, another was a fairly well-known artist in lesbian Jewish avant-garde circles and I don't know anything about the fourth) and that was to her cousin. I loved just how readable, sympathetic and moving this book was, the analysis is sensitive and spot-on and the case studies are fascinating. They include the campaigner Florence White (not the same Florence White of Good Things In England fame) and her sister Annie who campaigned for spinters' rights and set up the National Spinsters Pensions Association, Gertrude Maclean who founded the Universal Aunts agency (a fantastic enterprise- women could finally get paid for something that had always been taken for granted), Caroline Haslett, the first director of the Electrical Association for Women (who was cremated by electricity- I love it), lady's maid Rose Harrison who when asked what she'd do if she could live again replied, "I would live my life over again," and countless others. Winifred Holtby's books have also risen rapidly to the top of my TBR pile. Nicholson isn't afraid to take on questions that are still controversial in the C21, such as whether it's possible to be happy and fulfilled without getting married and having children. If these extraordinary women are anything to go by, the answer should be a resounding yes. The First World War was undoubtedly a tragedy of immeasurable proportions that caused all sorts of damage and it's fair to mourn for a 'lost generation,' but it is easy to romanticise what might have been. If it hadn't happened, expectations of women's lives might have remained based on getting married and having babies. I wish my girlfriends and acquaintances who do nothing but whine about their boyfriends would read this book. It puts so many things into perspective.

On the silver screen, I enjoyed An Education, based on Lynn Barber's memoir of coming of age in 1960s suburbia, despite feeling squeamish at the love scenes. It's really scary how Jenny/Lynn's parents encouraged the relationship. For me, the real treat was seeing a host of fabulous semi-obscure British actresses sharing the screen. As many have already commented, Carey Mulligan is wonderful as Jenny with an extraordinary way of appearing very young and older than her years at the same time, Olivia Williams (an actress I absolutely adore) as her English teacher Miss Stubbs (the scene in her flat at the end was beautiful), Rosamund Pike as ditzy blonde amoral trophy girlfriend Helen and Kate Duchene (Miss Hardbroom on The Worst Witch- my favourite TV show when I was 10) as the Latin teacher (I'd recognise that voice anywhere). There's also a cameo from not-so obscure but always brilliant Emma Thompson as an unpleasant anti-semitic headmistress. The period details are immaculate and the ending somehow seemed perfect.

Branching Out 3

With 20-odd new shows in three weeks, it's a bit like pot luck and I tried to attend as many as I could. I'm so lucky to only be about five minutes away from the Rosemary Branch, which I believe (wholly without bias) to be the best fringe theatre in London. It's a shame one can't be a professional audience sweller- I think I'd be quite good at it. It's a win-win situation as they get one more person in the audience and it keeps me off the streets.

I'm not really in the target audience for Rosie Wilby's Edinburgh Fringe hit The Science of Sex (I don't feel entirely comfortable with the tell-all style that Sex and the City and the likes has made the norm), but I quite enjoyed it nevertheless as Wilby has an engaging, amiable style. I saw a show with a very similar concept in Cambridge a few months ago and that was absolutely awful, so it was in some ways a breath of fresh air. There were some very funny lines ("I love the term LGBT- it sounds like a sandwich!") and I enjoyed the story of how she came out to her parents on April Fools Day, thinking they'd be horrified, but were very excited and handed out leaflets to the neighbours with the good news.

The Forecast, performed by Marvin and the Theatre Cats seemed to be the hot ticket- I didn't need to be there to swell the audience as it was absolutely swollen. The premise is that a luxury cruise liner sinks, and three rich twits are stranded on a raft together and inevitably get on each others' nerves. This might have potential with a lot more work (the dancing is quite amusing), but it currently feels very incomplete and about as aimless as the raft itself.

The undoubted highlight of the festival is Rosemary Branch co-Artistic Director Cleo Sylvestre's one-woman show The Marvellous Adventures of Mary Seacole, which is everything a one-person show should be- beautifully written and performed, informative, warm, funny and poignant. It really is like having an audience with the real Mary Seacole. Cleo takes us on a journey from Mary's upbringing in Jamaica, where she learned about herbal remedies from her Creole mother and practiced nursing her dolls and pets, her first visit to England at the age of sixteen, her many personal tragedies and struggles with poverty,  and finally the Crimea where she was turned down by Florence Nightingale, but started her own unique hospital. It's told with so much gentle humour (I loved the descriptions of all of Mary's colourful outfits- she clearly had quite an eye for detail) and there's not a trace of self-pity. I now really want to read her autobiography. Miss Nightingale might have been interested in formal qualifications, discipline and references, but Mary Seacole did more by doing what came naturally and clearly had a much more effective bedside manner. A pearl.

The trouble with Ah, Bet You Didn't Know, performed by Allistar Bain is that you need to have some kind of prior knowledge of Caribbean folklore for it to make sense as it isn't easy to follow. It's a bit like an in-joke and I think that sort of defeats the purpose of storytelling...

Soviet Zion by Katy Lipson and Giles Howe met with a mixed reception from my friends, but I'm leaning towards the more positive end of the spectrum. Jewish flavoured musicals seem to be tricky things (in spite of the fact that nearly all of the great musical theatre writers are of Jewish extraction) and last year's Holocaust musical Imagine This (my scathing review can be found here) was the most embarassing, misguided thing I've seen in my entire life ("Let's put on a show in the ghetto!"). This is certainly an ambitious project- an epic musical spanning thirty years in Soviet Zion, an area of Siberia given to the Jews by Stalin in the 1920s (I'm ashamed to say this is something I'm completely ignorant about, and I'm half-Jewish). I worry that it's too ambitious and that the time span won't allow sufficient character development and there isn't much in the way of traditional Jewish rhythms or humour (though I realise how tricky it is to get the balance right...).  It would also be nice if it ended on a note of hope. Of course, it's never going to be a commercial success. However, I enjoyed what I heard, I didn't find it emotionally manipulative, the lyrics (so often the biggest problem with new musicals) didn't make me want to bang my head against a wall and I would be interested in seeing a fully staged production. There were great performances from Arabella Rodrigo, Julia Buckley and Nancy Hill, as well as Katy and Giles themselves. I'm cautiously optimistic about this one, I think it has the potential to be very good.

I found Terje Tveit's staged reading of Peer Gynt to be a very curious piece of work that I don't think I'm clever enough to appreciate. It's not that I don't enjoy a crazy, sprawling epic from time to time, but I definitely prefer Ibsen's tightly plotted "domestic tragedies." I read a synopsis beforehand, but still got completely lost early on (my cleverer friends fared much better than I did). This production is set in a 1920s jazz underworld full of music and dance, including a rendition of Broadway Baby. As Follies (a favourite of mine) is the most meta-theatrical musical I know, my head started spinning at that point with all the meta-ness. The aesthetic, in which the only colours on stage were red and black, reminded me a lot of Chicago and the jazzy feel and the anti-hero working his way through the underworld and seducing numerous women with an overhanging threat of murder and self-destruction felt pretty close to The Threepenny Opera and Pal Joey. The stage directions were read out by the director, and that actually worked really well with the whole stylised feel of the production. Sort of like Ibsen done as Brecht. All the acting was very good, especially Peer Gynt himself, his mother, "Green Eyes" and the maid who gets murdered (no cast list, I'm afraid). I can't honestly say I enjoyed this, but that's probably most likely to due to the fact that Peer Gynt is almost definitely an acquired taste. The rhyming couplets started to grate on my nerves almost immediately. I found myself having flashbacks of Michael Frayn's Afterlife, agh.

The Clock Master by Sparkle and Dark's Travelling Players was real treat. I couldn't quite work out if it was aimed at children or adults, but that's not really the point. This is very much from the Angela Carter school of fairy tales as they aren't afraid to step into sinister, macabre territory, all of the stories have a sting in the tail and are full of cryptic messages. There was such a creative use of puppetry and props (the origami birds were particularly delightful) and the music was lovely. I really hope to see more from this multi-talented troop of actors, story-tellers, puppeteers and musicians. Enchanting.

My least favourite piece was Graham Farrow's Stay With Me Til Dawn, which I found really horrible. At least it was only a reading as the violence is hideously gratuitous, bordering on voyeuristic. The unpleasantness is laid on so thick (ever heard of the expression less is more??) and needless to say, I won't be going to see the staged version, if it happens. I expect the Hackney Gazette, which runs a pedophile story practically every week, would love it...

Dead-Kat Productions' (can't say I'm too keen on their name) 'multi-media' adaptations of Macbeth and A Midsummer Night's Dream condensed into under an hour each reminded me a bit of the BBC's animated Tales From Shakespeare (very useful for when revising for Finals...). Of the two, I preferred Macbeth, with was very effective in capturing eerie atmosphere, with the projected blood and witches. There was some confusion over who the child puppet was supposed to represent- apparently it was drippy Malcolm. My problem with Dream was that most of it wasn't terribly funny. I did like the way they did Pyramus and Thisbe as a puppet show though- I was a bit concerned as to how they'd pull that off with only two mechanicals. The Shakespearean performances weren't quite world class (though I thought the actress playing Lady Macbeth and Titania did have real presence), but were mostly pretty good. As it was the first time they'd performed Dream to an audience, I'm sure the comedy will start to flow more naturally. This would be a perfect show to take round to schools.

My favourite parts of Mew and Me by distinguished actress Petra Markham (sister-in-law of Corin Redgrave, who was in attendance) were the scenes between her character (an actress) and Charlotte Mew herself. I've never read any of Mew's work before (even though obscure Victorian/early C20 women poets are right up my street), but she seems like quite an enigmatic character full of contradictions, which naturally works really effectively in drama. However, I think this piece might work better as an Afternoon Play on Radio 4 than as a staged drama...

Saving the most eccentric to last, Fiona Watson's show An Evening With Bunty Carnavon was a most quirky take on spiritualism for a commercial era (actually, you could say that spiritualism has always been commercial). Blinky and Minky were hands down the finest guinea pig puppets I've ever seen.

As expected, a real mix of things. I have to single out Mary Seacole and The Clock Master as my favourites. There was an all-time low in September with a one-woman vanity show by a not particularly talented 'singer/songwriter,' which was half a cabaret (including songs from a musical she's written about Adam, Eve and Milton in therapy- as you do) and the other half was a solo musical in which she played a gay man dying of AIDS, performed to tracks used for ring tones (the same eight beats on a loop over and over again). It really was dire ("Who does she think she is- Kathryn Hunter?!"). It's very hard indeed to imagine anything else being as soul-destroyingly awful as that (though Stay With Me Til Dawn was on a par). Here's to a fantastic November and December. I have a very good feeling about all the forthcoming shows and there really never is a dull moment around here.

Rigoletto and Iolanthe

I have to admit it- I'm not really sure if I'm an opera fan. There are some I really love (La Traviata and Eugene Onegin being top of the list), others I wouldn't choose to listen to for fun but found really interesting and moving in performance (Jenufa), but there are many that leave me cold. Jonathan Miller's production of Rigoletto falls into the latter camp. It's something of a modern classic that's been revived numerous times since its premier in 1983 and judging by the performance I saw, I really don't see what's so brilliant about it. For one thing, it didn't sound right in English as the words seemed so banal. It didn't help is that the acting was lacklustre, the singing was nothing more than adequate and the soprano's voice was far too thin for a venue as vast as the ENO. Miller's great innovation is that he transports the action from sixteenth century Italy to 1950s New York and the set for Rigoletto and Gilda's apartment building was straight out of West Side Story. Gilda has to be the wettest blanket in opera- "Oh, my boyfriend is cheating on me and never really loved me, but because I love him sooooo much I'm going to die in his place." Get a grip, girl.

I'm very lucky that all the Gilbert and Sullivan shows I've seen to date have been beautifully sung and presented, but it's the kind of thing I enjoy well enough while the show is going on (though the baby switching twist in HMS Pinafore is just too much) but am quite happy to leave behind at the end. Although I love musical comedy, I've always found G&S just a bit too cutesy and contrived for my liking. I first saw this production of fairy and parliament operetta Iolanthe at the Rosemary Branch last year and it's even better now.  I knew there was a reason why I'd never been to the Pleasance Theatre in spite of the fact it's reasonably local- it's so convaluted to get to by public transport. A shame, as it's a very nice venue with really comfy sofas and the openness of the auditorium works beautifully.

One of the things I loved most about this was the attention to detail and the way that all the characters responded to each other and to all the crazy things going on. I shouldn't really single out anyone from the universally excellent cast, but the three adorable fairies, Fleta (Charlotte Wooll-Rovers), Celia (Karen Richmond) and Laila (Rosie Strobel- whose facial expressions reminded me greatly of Nessa in Gavin & Stacey- could Ness have had a secret career as a G&S star?? Interesting how Gilbert and Sullivan and Gavin and Stacey share the same initials...) stole every scene they were in, giggling and prancing like hyper eight year olds. Iolanthe herself was beautifully sung by Anne-Marie Cullum and the Fairy Queen, portrayed by Kristin Finnigan, was an majestic figure who also was a devoted and loving mother to her daughters. Director John Savournin was very sweet as love interest Strephon (though I missed the blue hair) and he and Georgia Ginsberg as his lady love Phyllis in her flouncy gingham frock and curly blonde wig made an adorable pair of young lovers. There was also a delightful turn by Simon Butteriss as the Lord Chancellor. The music was played beautifully by the Eaton-Young Piano Duo. I loved Mia Wallden's costumes, especially the fairies' brightly coloured ballet-style frocks. It all looked so fresh and vibrant, and the boat that Strephon and Phyllis sailed off in after their duet was a hilarious touch.

I'll never be a card carrying G&S fan (like I am with Sondheim), but for the first time in my life, I thought I might like to listen to more of their works for the fun of it. Something of a revelation.