“A wonderful celebration of the artist’s idiosyncratic brilliance”
An Evening Without Kate Bush is more Kate Bush-centric than the title might suggest (or maybe it’s exactly as Kate Bush-centric as the title might suggest). Created by Sarah-Louise Young and Russell Lucas, and performed solo by Young, An Evening Without Kate Bush is a fittingly eccentric tribute act to the fabulous artist (she’s not dead).
It is also less of a narrative piece than one might hope, though it is never dull. Young dons an array of wigs and leotards – and some other fabulous costumes – and performs many of Bush’s hits, with an impressive vocal likeness.
After its sellout Edinburgh run, An Evening Without Kate Bush debuts its now two-act version at the Underbelly Boulevard. I do not know if audience interaction was also a London addition, but there was much of it. Had I read the content warnings beforehand, I would have protested my front row seat. Nevertheless, Young is a delightful performer and chairperson of the Fish People (the cult of Kate Bush fans).
Visually, it’s a compelling piece too, dramatic in its lighting and wonderfully ridiculous in its movement. Audience is united with artist as we are thrown lovingly from Cloudbusting to The Man with the Child in his Eyes, to, of course, Running Up that Hill. But Young doesn’t just celebrate the classics. She also unearths B-Sides and Bootlegs, including Don’t Give Up, with Peter Gabriel. On top of this, Young reimagines a few of the classics: having learnt of the Russian wrath at the pronunciation of babooshka, she reworks the song of the same name and sings it in Russian. It’s impressive stuff, especially if you nurse a particular penchant for pedanticism, which I do.
What it lacked in story, it made up for in charm. If one is not already a Fish convert, they’ll likely leave this show realising they knew – and liked – far more Kate Bush than they might have assumed. As with all one-person shows, this piece is never not a showcase for Young, yet she is delightfully self-deprecating as she dons a wedding dress and screeches at Heathcliff.
If you don’t at least vaguely like the work of Kate Bush, this show may not be the church to throw yourself at. But if you do, it is a wonderful celebration of the artist’s idiosyncratic brilliance. Theatre waxes lyrical about immediacy and intention: ‘why now?’ is a favourite phrase for anyone with dramaturgical aspirations. The rejuvenation and appreciation of Kate Bush’s work may not seem a desperate societal or theatrical need. But anything which seeks to memorialise and pass on art and its legacy ought to be encouraged and applauded.
An Evening Without Kate Bush plays at the Underbelly Boulevard until 26th April. Tickets are available here.