Month: March 2024

REVIEW: Still Life with Onions

Published on by chriswood14Leave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A compelling, touching tale of life after war for 1940s Britain

Still Life with Onions is written by Rob Burbidge, directed by Amalia Kontesi, and stars Olivia Steele, Naomi Bowman, Christopher Kouros, and Kieran Dobson. Set shortly after the end of the Second World War, the Still Life with Onions revolves around four people struggling to find their place in post war Britain. 

Failing artist Jonesy (Steele) is living on the poverty line, unable to sell the art she toils over. She bonds with socialist neighbour Sue (Bowman) over shared loss during the war, and feeling redundant in the world. They cohabit their building with a German refugee, conveniently named Bermann (Kouros), who fled Nazi Germany prior to the war. Rounding out the characters is David (Dobson), a recent love interest for Jonesy who spent the war at a desk pushing papers, and is then deployed with the military in Berlin throughout the play. 

The plot centres around the relationships of the four characters, against a backdrop of Jonesy suffering from increasingly worsening pneumonia, and the play explores many challenging topics throughout its relatively short run time of approximately 70 minutes. Dense with commentary on the roles of women in the 1940s, the broader, tragic impacts of war on society, racism, class, and love. Still Life with Onions certainly tackles a lot. It would have been easy to fall into the trap of taking on too much and the script feeling bloated and messy, with the plot compromised for the sake of social statements, but this isn’t the case. We have characters where the conflicts are natural, and the plot allows them a lot of time to talk. The strife is aired naturally, and effectively, which makes the play captivating. 

Elevating the narratives were the actor performances. Steele nicely captures the essence of a woman lost as she perceives the world to think very little of her. Bowman’s Sue begins as a charming cockney cliché, but reveals layers of darkness, brought on by the suffering of war, with an artful nuance. Dobson is given the least to work with, and while playing the part well, is the only character arc that is a little uncertain. Before his departure, David is modest, and polite, but upon return feels overly cocky and hostile, with explanations for this alluded to, but feeling quite rushed towards the end of the production. 

A highlight was Kouros, at one point delivering a chilling monologue on Berman’s life prior to fleeing Nazi Germany, and his experiences that followed in England during the war. 

The Second World War and the years bookending it contain hundreds of thousands of stories, many of which (and rightfully so) have been told numerous times. But here, Still Life with Onions creates an alluring story that feels fresh, with narratives that feel relevant to 2024, but also don’t feel forced into history to satisfy modern audiences. 

REVIEW: Macbeth

Published on by huetfrancoisLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Murder, cameras, and boogie


Richard Twyman’s adaptation of Macbeth is a bold and innovative reimagining of the classic tale, pushing the boundaries of tradition with unconventional creative elements. Co-produced with the English Touring Theatre, the production presents a mix of ideas that challenge and engage the audience in equal measure.

One of the standout features of this production is the clever utilization of cameras and sound, which effectively cultivates a haunting atmosphere that mirrors the gradual descent of the Macbeths into madness. Twyman’s modern interpretation begins with a departure from Shakespeare’s original opening, replacing it with an imagined witch trial set within the Macbeths’ home adorned with retro decor. This departure serves to underscore the pervasive fear of the supernatural prevalent in Shakespearean society, and sets the tone for a production that is unafraid to take risks.

Embracing modernity, the production incorporates cameras, music, television, and pop songs to craft a visceral and unique experience for the audience. The witches, portrayed unconventionally through various mediums like movie footage and wigged zombies, add a contemporary twist to the narrative that is both intriguing and unsettling. Particularly memorable is the banquet scene, transformed into a Burns night dinner, where the audience is invited to participate and interact with the characters, heightening the intensity of the performance.

Mike Noble’s portrayal of Macbeth is captivating, especially during intimate moments where audience members are brought close to the action. Noble’s performance is nuanced and complex, capturing the internal conflict and eventual descent into madness of the titular character. Laura Elsworthy complements Noble’s performance with her portrayal of Lady Macbeth, creating a dynamic duo that anchors the show. Elsworthy’s Lady Macbeth is fierce and determined, yet vulnerable and ultimately tragic.

While the production is brimming with innovative ideas, it occasionally falters due to an excess of elements introduced fleetingly without substantial significance. Some creative choices, such as the use of a breast pump and the frankly jarring singing of “Yes Sir, I Can Boogie,” feel out of place and detract from the overall coherence of the production. However, the use of technology is well-executed, enhancing the storytelling and contributing to an atmosphere of psychological horror.

Overall, Twyman’s modern rendition of Macbeth offers a fresh perspective on the classic tale, showcasing the enduring relevance of Shakespeare’s work while pushing theatrical boundaries. Though not without flaws, the production’s creative approach breathes new life into the timeless narrative, ensuring that the Scottish Play continues to captivate audiences for generations to come. With standout performances from Noble and Elsworthy, and a haunting atmosphere that lingers long after the curtain falls, this production is a must-see for fans of innovative theatre.

REVIEW: Come From Away

Published on by Juliet PoneLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A story of love, of the great care and compassion of the people of Gander, of love found for some and lost for others, Come From Away doesn’t shy from difficult topics.

My parents always said that everyone old enough to be aware of it can remember exactly where they were and what they were doing when the planes hit the twin towers on the 11th September, 2001. That’s exactly how Come From Away begins, with the residents of Gander, Newfoundland, recounting what they were doing when the news came through and 38 diverted planes started queuing up to land in their small town. The hit musical, written by Irene Sankoff and David Hein, began as a student performance at Sheridan College, but has since travelled the world to critical and public acclaim, becoming one of the most loved shows of all time. After seeing it for the first time on opening night at the Liverpool Empire Theatre, once again directed by Christopher Ashley who brought it such success on Broadway, I understand why. 

With an ensemble cast of twelve performers all playing more than one role, I was a bit concerned there wouldn’t be enough space to allow each character to shine or be developed as an individual. Sometimes all it took for an actor to change character was to put on a hat, such as Jamal Zulfiqar switching between Kevin and Ali, but the whole cast pulled it off remarkably, each managing multiple diverse accents, and I was amazed at how much individuality there was to each of the more than twenty-four characters, and with how much compassion they were all treated.

The set was no more than a backdrop of bare planks of wood and some tall trees stage right, calling back to the sparsely populated woodlands and logging communities of Newfoundland. Chairs moved around by the actors on set, often while singing and dancing, transformed the stage from a Tim Hortons, to a local pub, to the aisle of an airplane, to a school packed full of ‘guests’ with remarkable smoothness. The production is fast-paced and told almost entirely through song, with a runtime of 1 hour 40 minutes with no interval, but it neither felt rushed nor too long, largely thanks to the expert choreography of Kelly Devine and Richard J. Hinds that allowed for seamless character and set transitions. 

Naturally with any musical the songs have to be showstoppers, and Come From Away certainly delivered. The power of twelve voices singing at once cannot be underestimated, and worked perfectly for the energetic but sometimes haunting flute-and-fiddle folk songs that told the story of how the residents of Gander opened their homes and hearts to more than 7,000 people who were stranded for five days. Having a live band on stage really made the whole production shine, and all the cast sang as well as they acted. The booming voice of Nicholas Pound as Claude and others was a standout for me, with Sara Poyzer also impressing with several long narrative solos as Beverley Bass, the first female American Airlines captain, and a few more light-hearted solos as Annette, a Gander local who swoons over the new men in town. Bree Smith’s ‘I Am Here’ as Hannah, a mother travelling alone and desperately searching for news of her son, was poignantly heartfelt and had me tearing up.

While it is ultimately a story of love, of the great care and compassion of the people of Gander, of love found for some and lost for others, Come From Away doesn’t shy from difficult topics; Ali, a Muslim man inspired by many real passengers including world famous chef Vikram Garg, faces discrimination based on his ethnicity and religion, with many of the other passengers and airport security alike suspicious of him. The gay couple Kevin and Kevin, and black passenger Bob, fear for their safety in this remote town, and Jewish and Muslim passengers struggle to find suitable food, but all form lasting bonds and leave an impression on the community. The ‘Prayer’ song, sung in multiple different languages as passengers from different religions pray, was a real standout moment for me. Even animal passengers weren’t forgotten, with devoted animal lover Bonnie, played by Rosie Glossop, taking care of cats, dogs, and a few rare Bonobo chimps. I laughed, I cried, and at the final bow the whole theatre was on its feet with rapturous applause. Come From Away has it all, and I think part of what makes it so universally touching is the care with which it tells real stories, always guiding us to think of the stranded passengers who still keep in touch with the residents of Gander today.

Photo credited to Jake Bush

REVIEW: Magic

Published on by Santiago Guerra ArrangóizLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

An Irish woman deals with grief and relationships over the course of two eccentric weeks.  A deep examination of queer love, complicated family dynamics and how hard it is to understand life

An Irish woman is sitting on a bench, sad, as 7 other cast members watch from the background.  The setting is Dublin. That woman is Fiadh (played by the wonderful Ciara Pouncett), the mother of Natalie (Honi Cooke), who is bearing some terrible news to her daughter in the middle of the night, and Natalie’s not ready to receive them.

From there onwards, Magic follows Natalie’s life for two weeks after she receives this devastating news, and the journey is nothing short of emotional, honest and haunting. During her voyage, we get to meet eccentric people who cross paths with our quirky lead, among them her concerned, judgemental but loyal best friend; April, a mysterious, beautiful and cool woman who flirts with her at a party; Thursday and Mehdi, a hilarious yet engaging couple with enormous problems hidden under the surface; and Rae, a calm, empathetic and free partner.

The brilliance of Hugo Lau’s script relies not only on conceptualising these colourful and vivid characters but on developing them with empathy, care and an edge of mystery; even though we don’t get to see them a lot during the 80-minute show, we’re left with the sense of wanting to know more about their lives, anchoring the show with nuanced, real portrayals of complex human beings.

Nevertheless, this is Natalie’s story, and how she reacts during the tale reveals a complicated woman painfully grappling with grief. Luckily, Honi Cooke’s performance is fantastic, navigating the audience towards her growth and acceptance during these tough couple of days. Time as well as location swap smartly by the use of a whiteboard and markers, a simple yet effective tool to guide our imagination towards the scenarios where the story takes us. Lighting and sound also serve as effective narrative tools to follow Natalie’s journey, particularly an ominous scene where we see our protagonist face her denial over a haunting conversation. 

Words ebb and flow with ease with naturalistic, snappy dialogue, making the scenes resonate because of their honesty. However, some comedic beats are missed here and there, and the couple’s storyline, while adding a nice change of pace to the overall theme of the play, feels narratively out of place. Despite these minor hiccups, Magic is a resonant character study with outstanding performances, clever use of stagecraft tools and a powerful story with an all-encompassing ending that will stick with you long after you leave the Lion & Unicorn Theatre. If you want to submerge yourself in a deep examination of queer love, complicated family dynamics and how hard it is to understand life, then you should definitely get yourself a ticket.

REVIEW: Close Enough To Touch

Published on by Sophia BorkenhagenLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

An exploration of identity, masculinity, and happiness. 

“Close Enough to Touch,” written by Henry Roberts and performed by Ross Barbour, is a witty, gritty, and beautifully honest account of one man’s struggle with his sexuality as he attempts to wrangle the two conflicting aspects of his life. 

After a painfully awkward and unsuccessful job interview, one of many for our protagonist (Barbour), the audience dives right in via a crash course on one of his “hobbies”: cruising in public toilets, mostly in train stations and the underground. It’s everywhere if you know where to look for it. A man stands in the same urinal for 20 minutes, someone washing his hands for the third time, looking around at the other occupants of a place most wish to exit with haste. Once two have spotted each other, the exchange goes on with little preamble, and often nary a word is said between the two. Our protagonist seems to be an old hand at this now, but he explains that this wasn’t always the case, and besides, it’s just a hobby for him, not a lifestyle. He’s not gay. He’s got a long-term girlfriend, Steph, whom he loves. He does. 

As the piece progresses, we unravel more and more of his life and experience all manner of emotions, such as fear, embarrassment, and joy, as his life becomes increasingly untenable until finally, he achieves some form of catharsis. Although it is unclear whether or not he has come to accept the part of himself, he has tried to hide from himself and the rest of the world for so long. 

Roberts’ writing is poetic, witty, and engaging, and Barbour’s performance only adds to the “magic.” It had such an incredible flow and energy that one did not realise the time was passing. The minimal set, sound, and lighting design were also advantages, as they only highlighted Barbour’s brilliant performance. 

“Close Enough to Touch” is a raw, empathetic, and intelligent piece on the challenges we still face with the ambiguity of our sexuality and the added complexity regarding our relationship to masculinity. I didn’t want it to end; I wanted more.

MACBETH (AN UNDOING) production photos taken on 7th of March 2024 at the Rose Theatre, London

REVIEW: Macbeth (an undoing)

Published on by Antonia Constantin1 Comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

“Macbeth an Undoing” is a bold and thought-provoking experiment that pushes the boundaries of Shakespearean adaptation

Macbeth (an undoing), Zinnie Harris’ latest adaptation and staging of Macbeth, is a bold reinterpretation of Shakespeare’s timeless tragedy. Such an undertaking is not without risk; playwrights who attempt to rewrite works with a VIP status tread a fine line between homage and sacrilege. However, Harris confidently accepts this challenge, by adding a new dimension to the immense collection of reinterpretations of Macbeth: a distinct feminist agenda that challenges traditional power dynamics and narratives within the western dramaturgy. Layer after layer she transforms characters, she reimagines possibilities, she questions roles, she plays with balance between dominant and subordinate inside the criminal couple. In Harris’ universe, it is Macbeth (Adam Best) who will lose his mind under the burden of guilt, while Lady Macbeth (Nicola Cooper) takes over the throne. This reversal of roles sets out to serve as a commentary on gender and power, inviting audiences to reconsider the archetypal dynamics of Shakespeare’s original text. Harris does not stop there. While Lady Macbeth’s ascent to power is undisputable, her marginalization within the male-dominated world of the play raises questions about the limitations of female agency, even when in power. 

 From the start, it becomes clear that Macbeth (an undoing) is not your typical Shakespearean affair with a terrific Liz Kettle, as main witch, servant, and mad woman, delivering a knock knock joke. However, it often feels that the departures from the traditional Shakespearian canon are forced and end up on many occasions working against the intended agenda. The juxtaposition of Shakespearean text with a modern one lacking in poetry and depth creates a disruptive effect over the narrative flow that undermines the plot in climatic moments. The result is a fragmented experience, reminiscent of a 1920s period drama gone wrong. The supernatural is ditched in favour of a weak allusion to social hierarchy when witches turn into servants. The backstories appear, at times, dull, unsatisfyingly adding to the length of the production. The metatheatrical interventions are not always desirable as too often the characters seem to come out of their roles. The feminist manifesto is challenged by the contrast between Lady Macbeth and Lady MacDuff, emphasising thematic antithesis such as power vs motherhood, enforcing gender stereotypes more than liberating the narrative of any.

Nicola Cooper’s portrayal of Lady Macbeth is the highlight of the production. Her commanding presence and brilliant performance breathe new life into the character, offering layers of complexity and vulnerability. Her acting is supported by a great cast and by Tom Piper’s clever set design, Lizzie Powell’s atmospheric lighting, Pippa Murphy’s soundscapes, and Oğuz Kaplangi’s haunting music.

Overall, “Macbeth an Undoing” is a bold and thought-provoking experiment that pushes the boundaries of Shakespearean adaptation, and it deserves our appreciation for adding new dimensions to a story told so many times before, despite leaving us feeling that it does not entirely hold up. 

REVIEW: London Zoo

Published on by chelseajinaLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

At the organisational heart of a UK newspaper conglomerate, sexism and racism push certain employees to their limit in this punchy, unpredictable play.

Written and directed by Farine Clarke, London Zoo stages its third iteration at the Southwark Playhouse Borough. The play centres on a UK newspaper conglomerate’s internal trouble as pressure mounts on the print media industry. Arabella (Natalie Lauren) is the company’s sole female director. She faces a continuous stream of misogyny from the CEO Alex (Dan Saski) as well as his right-hand man, Christian (Harris Vaughan) who both seem to be completely unaware of their sexist overtones despite their lack of subtlety. Arabella’s only hope in the company seems to rest on the presence of the soft-spoken accountant, Charles (Simon Furness). 

Sunil (Anirban Roy), the apparent top-dog in the company, pushes the team to acquire a smaller albeit far more successful newspaper, The Daily Word. The Daily Word’s success is clearly that of their publisher Kelvin (Odimegwu Okoye), who happens to be black. Sunil’s racial prejudice becomes painfully apparent upon meeting Kelvin. Tensions mount as Sunil, Christian, and Alex push a ruthlessness in their business practice that Arabella finds herself increasingly uncomfortable with, and Charles finds himself in resignation to.

Though the play is pattered with enjoyable wit and humour, as well as a healthy dose of irony, the general sense of urgency from the cast is fairly lacklustre. The language of the play itself seems to imply significant stakes, including the livelihood of employees and a culture of insipid racism and misogyny, however the pace of the play felt irregular at best. The cast gelled together well and functioned as a great ensemble but did not seem to draw the audience into the earnestness of their circumstances. Individually, the cast nailed their characters; smarmy Alex and pandering Christian are perfectly blind to their bigotries, Arabella is clearly fighting a difficult internal battle of ambition versus integrity, Charles is solemnly acquiescent, Sunil is poised and proper with a venomous edge, and Kelvin is stoic and proud, tired of fighting a battle those around him refuse to acknowledge. Despite the intricacies of character that the actors have clearly investigated, the shape of the play lacked clarity. This is likely compounded by its odd structure; the first act runs at 60 minutes and the second at a mere 30. The play’s climax appears relatively out of the blue and reaches its conclusion quite suddenly. The final twist subverts expectations radically but is tonally inconsistent with the rest of the play. 

London Zoo is a surprising, punchy play that will most certainly prompt discussion and debate. It is a measured, thoughtful piece that will shock you in ways you wouldn’t have ever anticipated.

REVIEW: Scenes with Boys

Published on by ayoungishperspective11 Comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A relatable and emotive performance that draws in the audience to the realities of unrequited love and the challenges that many queer people face – a promising start for the new Mad Jacks Theatre Company. 

Scenes with Boys promised a queer and gender-expansive take on miscommunication, love and the messy second adolescence that many queer people face – and through the complications of unrequited love, in a university setting that will be familiar to many, the play did just that. Not only did it deliver on this, but the emotive performances combined with the simple, but effective staging drew you into a story that is sadly relatable to so many. 

The play was set with minimal scenery. When you walked in, the characters are on stage, surrounded by poetry books. Some are moving or dancing around, whilst others are seated pensively, already giving a flavour of what was to come. After a slightly uncertain start, the actors soon settled into their characters and drew us into the intensity of the narrative. 

Three main characters take the audience on their journey through this passionate and sometimes painful story, accompanied by the Shoal of Boys who use movement and characterization to set the scene. Whilst this often worked effectively in a club or pub scene, the use of the extra characters to amplify the emotions of main character Ro sometimes distracted from the strong soliloquies delivered by Cavan Malone, drawing the focus away from these incredibly poignant moments.  Carefully chosen motifs such as drinking wine out of freebie mugs that you would only find at university and freezing outside a nightclub continue to add to the relatable aspects and show the meticulous thought that went into every aspect of the production.

The pièce de résistance of the play was surely the final scene, bringing the audience back to reality with a thump in a clever and unique way and surely earning Smith the Riverside Studios Bitesize Award for Best Direction. Smith’s first play as a writer-director entices audiences with engaging, contemporary dialogue and powerful on-stage relationships, showing great potential for the future of Mad Jacks Theatre Company. 

REVIEWER: Nancy Newberry

FEATURE: Bethlehem Culture Festival x Habibti Nation presents: Watermelon Womxn: a musical journey through Palestine

Published on by Iona Goodall1 Comment

A celebration of Palestinian creativity and resilience

It’s difficult to celebrate when such terrible tragedy is happening in your homeland. Watermelon Womxn by the Bethlehem Culture Festival and Habibti Nation was originally planned as a club night, with DJs spinning some tunes to celebrate Palestinian musicians and creators throughout the last 100 years of their history. However due to the events of October 7 and the months since, the organisers decided to tone things down, and create a space for reflection and education.

At Civic House in Glasgow they created a combination of a relaxed music event, a powerful exploration of Palestinian history through songs of rebellion and hope, and a stirring performance of poetry and dance. We were welcomed with an energetic DJ set by the artist Freecheh, whose music mixed traditional Palestinian songs with pounding house beats. You were instantly made aware that tonight is not just about mourning, but about celebration.

The highlight of the night for me was the lecture/mixtape by Hiba Salameh. A music producer and DJ who performs internationally, she led us from the pre-Nabka music under the British mandate, right up to music by modern Palestinians, some of which she has produced. We listened as the song Zareef Al-Tool, a folk tale of a great resistance fighter, had its lyrics changed by each generation to reflect the changing times and hardships faced by Palestinians.

The final performer Nada Shawa led the final period of reflection, through reading of poetry and through dance to Palestinian music. Wheelchair dance was a new experience for me and Shawa performed beautifully, but I felt it was her poetry that really cut to the heart of the experience of Palestinians watching what is occurring from afar.

You cannot attend an event such as this without the full force of the tragedy in Palestine grabbing hold of your heart. Stories of Palestinian DJs being forced to meet other Arab DJs in places like Berlin and Paris, because they cannot travel to their near neighbours; poetry of the desire for hope and peace, and most of all safety; and dance set to the music that has orchestrated Palestinian lives for generations, and we sincerely hope always will. Watermelon Womxn does not shy away from calling what is occurring in Gaza a genocide, and it would be remiss of us not to stand by them in protesting the actions being taken against innocent people. Above all, we long for a Palestine where these artists are free to create music in peace and safety.

REVIEW: Winterreise

Published on by Ke MengLeave a comment

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A modern production by Aurora Orchestra starring Allan Clayton without detracting from Schubert’s original

Schubert’s Winterreise is a deep and profound exploration of loneliness, melancholy and self-journey through an incredible chemistry between male voice, piano and the poignant verses by Wilhelm Müller, which was written just one year prior to Schubert’s untimely demise at 31.  German conductor Hans Zender orchestrated this masterpiece in 1993 by weaving in a myriad of modern soundscapes and instrumental techniques (such as huge array of percussion) that infuses Schubert with a contemporary flavour and psychological depth. 

Zender’s rendition leaves infinite space for recreation and theatrical re-imagination, such as Opéra Comique’s avant-garde, multimedia-laden production (2017) and Dutch video artist Aernout Mik’s production negotiating between the virtual and the real (2020). Based on Zender’s adaptation, this production of Aurora Orchestra, conducted by Nicholas Collon and directed by Jane Mitchell, featuring Allan Clayton as the tenor, also endeavours to explore Schubert’s modernity and contemporary connection through compelling theatrical story-telling and brilliant movement arrangements.

Before Aurora’s Winterreise, I have never imagined a choreographed classical performance where almost all the musicians are moving here and there, not only onstage interacting with the tenor, but also coming to and touring around the auditorium. There are two polystyrene-made white staircases on both sides of the stage, and from time to time, certain players will leave their seats, move to the stairs, and play as featured soloists. The accordion stands especially remarkable: although it is not commonly used in western classical music, it perfectly fits the theme of winter journey, instantly picturing the desperate romanticism deeply embedded in Schubert. 

Such effort of movement arrangement comes to an ecstasy at the end, with Clayton’s endeavour to mingle with the crowd. Sarcastically, the musicians strategically withdraw to the two polystyrene staircases with almost no one remain on the seat. Eventually, even Collon, the conductor, leaves his central stage, occupying a small corner on stage right, giving way to the man’s solitude. As Mitchell articulates, those players are, themselves, storytellers. They denote a doubleness of the orchestra, embodying both the world that forsakes the man, and an outsider’s perspective witnessing his tragic journey.

Allan Clayton’s crystal, clear voice perfectly encapsulates the wandering, melancholic youth in his winter solitude. Little doubt, he is also an expressive actor. In most of the time, he stands behind a trapezium-shaped projection scrim, overlooking the orchestra as his forsaking world. Sometimes he sits and lies down on the white staircases, accompanied by and interacting with the players. For instance, when performing “The Crow”, four wind players wear plague doctor masks coming to him, symbolising both comfortable company and the omnipresent image of graveyard and death.

To some extent, the man himself mirrors the crow, meandering through endless nocturnes but occasionally find brief respite in a secluded wooden cabin, an oasis cloaked in snow (“The Inn”). He might find warmth by the fireplace, or stumble upon fleeting, once-in-a-lifetime companionship, but the inexorable pull of solitude forces him to resume his trek through the wintry expanse, journeying into the long nights again.

Even the audience is not his true company. Like the wind players earlier in the production, Clayton also navigates through the auditorium. We can feel his voice approaching, as near as by our sides. As he’s wandering away, the voice recedes into the distance, echoing a heart that has turned to stone, becoming an ultimate embodiment of loneliness and desperation. Some may criticise that Clayton hams it up too much, especially when you are fond of Kaufmann’s subtle classic of authenticity. While subtlety no doubt reflects Schubert’s spirit, theatricalisation in a certain degree can effectively convey the depth of rejection and alienation, aligning more closely with Zender’s envision. 

The performance at Saffron Hall acts as a preview for its Southbank performances on the 14th and 16th of March. At times, there lacks some synergy between the orchestra and the moving musicians, but such moments will definitely not jeopardise the orchestra’s bold innovation and artistic expression.