Reviewed: Beauty and the Beast Black Affair, James O'Donnell (organ)and Daniel Johnston and Friends
Beauty and the Beast
Olympia Theatre
The official international tour of Beauty and the Beast owes more to Disney than it does to Broadway, where it originally opened in 1994. Produced by Disney Theatrical, it uses the 1991 cartoon's easily-digested storyline as well as its aesthetic to create a filmic stage world where reality and the fairytale world are spellbindingly interchangeable.
In fact, the musical begins with a projected prologue, which establishes the once-upon-a-time elements of the story. It gradually fades into real-life action, where Belle, the bubbly book-loving dreamer, is busy imagining a life beyond her provincial town. As Gaston, her gormless suitor, arrives, all brainless bicep-curling and vainglorious vanity, the plot finally begins to unravel, taking us deep into the dark (projected) forest to a hidden castle where the harmless Beast awaits Belle's gentle touch.
While the contrast between fairytale and reality is heightened by the use of film and the gauze curtain that plays with shadow and depth, the best moments in the production come when the audience is encouraged to completely suspend all disbelief. Although the programme reminds the audience of the difference between film and theatre, using the humans-turned-into-furniture as an example, these most theatrical of the scenes are the ones that work best, like in the big musical numbers Be Our Guest and Human Again.
Although Beauty and the Beast is a touring production, for the most part the cast are of the highest standard, although some of the actors suffer from projection problems. Ashley Oliver's Belle, Matthew Cammelle's Beast, Ben Harlow's Gaston and Sarah Louise Day's Mrs Potts deserve particular praise.
Overall, Beauty and the Beast is a welcome professional treat for Irish musical lovers starved of high quality musical theatre. Moreover, it is a brilliant night's entertainment for families. Children are guaranteed to be spellbound and even though accompanying adults may have some reservations about the Disney-fication of the historic fairytale, they'll be clapping along to the robust finale. - Until Aug 31- SARA KEATING
Black Affair
Crawdaddy, Dublin
At their final Dublin gig almost four years ago, as the criminally underrated psychedelic-rock-folk Beta Band's performance came to a close, frontman Steve Mason declared: "This is not a funeral, this is a celebration". True to his words, Mason has wasted little time in keeping his musical vision alive and kicking, first as King Biscuit Time and now Black Affair.
One listen to Black Affair's debut album, Pleasure Pressure Point (which was mixed by Warp wunderkind Jimmy Edgar)with its twisted sexual lyrics and dark pop undertones, conjures up images of shady and seedy nightclubs with SM clad clientele. Crawdaddy, in general, does not attract such patrons and the small crowd in attendance at the late show were more interested in dancing their socks off than getting their rocks off.
This latest chapter in the Scot's story finds him plundering old Detroit techno and 1980s pop records and coming up with a master-class in how to update that era without sounding contrived or hackneyed.
Four songs that followed one another typify what he's after. Will She Come is a glorious pop workout combining Mason's hushed vocals, saccharine lyrics and an irresistible tune. Mute Me (with an intro that appears to borrow from the Doctor Who theme) managed to build and build to a pulsating climax, and is the closest sounding song to a Beta Band track on the Black Affair album. Japanese Happening and Sweet, complete with vocoder chorus, are all squelchy synths, big beats and crooked melodies, reminiscent of early Depeche Mode with modern production values.
Mason, with his bloke-down-the-pub demeanour and attire is as unlikely a frontman as one can imagine, and did little to engage with the audience. Backed by two musicians tweaking and honing the electronic tracks, it was over all too soon. Pills hit the crowd that bit harder and finally got everyone moving. Unfortunately, it was the last song of the set. The music, if not the performance, deserved a better reception. - BRIAN KEANE
James O'Donnell (organ)
St Michael's, Dún Laoghaire
Bruhns Præludium in E minor; Messiaen Verset pour la Fête de la Dédicace, Joie et Clarté des Corps Glorieux; de Grigny Récit de tierce en taille; Alain Intermezzo; Duruflé Prélude et Fugue sur le nom d'Alain.
Given the choice between a performer being over-generous and leaving an audience hankering for more, the latter has to be the better proposition. And that's exactly what James O'Donnell, organist and master of the choristers at Westminster Abbey, did at his début in St Michael's, Dún Laoghaire, on Sunday. He played with near perfection for just under an hour, and then he stopped, refusing any encore.
O'Donnell is a master of his craft, a man who conveys the sound of the often monolithic-seeming organ with exceptional command of light and shade. There was a moment at the start of his opening item, a Praeludium in E minor by Nicolaus Bruhns, when it appeared that his shaping of baroque rhetoric might turn out to be a bit too arbitrary.
But the playing quickly found its balance. Energy was asserted through an ever-renewing rhythmic spring, and the music-making never got bogged down in the kind of detailing that causes the bigger picture to get lost.
There was an adaptability to his approach which simply made everything seem right. He was equally at home in the sweet'n'sour Messiaen of the Verset pour la Fête de la Dédicace and the celebratory bounce of the same composer's Joie et Clarté des Corps Glorieux.
He stayed in French territory for the rest of the evening, reaching back to the 17th century for the Récit de tierce en taille from Nicolas de Grigny's Premier livre d'orgue, and then forward to two pieces from the 20th century. He paired the almost minimalist-flavoured Intermezzo by Jehan Alain, with the memorial piece written after the composer's early wartime death by Maurice Duruflé. In O'Donnell's hands, the Prélude et Fugue sur le nom d'Alain sounded as deft and shapely as I've ever heard, virtuosic in finish, but touching, too. - MICHAEL DERVAN
Daniel Johnston and Friends
Whelans, Dublin
The history of US independent music deserves an entire chapter devoted to Daniel Johnston, first because of his extraordinary story, and second because of his extraordinary influence.
The 47-year-old Texan is schizophrenic and bipolar, but reducing his life to the well-worn "artist with mental illness" narrative obscures his real achievement, which has always been his pioneering and prolific songwriting.
The entire US lo-fi alternative music scene would be rudderless without the music he started recording on tape cassettes in the early 1980s, songs that sound unsophisticated and off-the-cuff, but which contain moments of lyrical and musical inspiration, at once childlike and knowing.
His unique position in the musical firmament guarantees many loyal admirers, and this Evening with Daniel Johnston and Friends saw Johnston take to the stage with a distinguished supporting cast of musicians, many of whom have worked with Johnston in the past.
Jad Fair of Half Japanese, English singer-songwriter Scout Niblett, Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse and Norman Blake of Teenage Fanclub, with James McNew of Yo La Tengo, first offered brief vignettes of their own material, illustrating the emotional honesty they all share, and then functioned as Johnston's backing act, a veritable lonely hearts club band.
Johnston is a conflicted performer. His fragility is obvious, as his eyes squint at his lyric sheet, his hands tremble on the mic and his voice wavers and creaks through his songs, but there is also a confidence and bright self-possession while he's in the spotlight.
Effortlessly leading his auspicious and enthusiastic supporting cast, he careened through more than a dozen of his ragged-edged songs, from Casper to Walking the Cow, from a rollicking Rock This Town to a touching True Love Will Find You in the End.
"That rock'n'roll, it saved my soul," Johnston sings on Rock'n'Roll, his performance itself eloquently proving his point.
At the close, as the audience sang along to Devil Town, it felt like everyone in the room was Daniel Johnston's friend. - DAVIN O'DWYER
