Rose Murray

In Conversation with Edinburgh University Footlights

Published on July 31, 2024July 24, 2024 by Rose MurrayLeave a comment

We sat down with EU Footlights ahead of the Edinburgh Fringe where they bring Pippin performing at Paradise in Augustines from Aug 19-25th. We were joined by the following production team members:

Director: Amy Stinton, Choreographer: Rose Roberts, Producer and Production Manager: Tom Beazley, Musical Director: Falk Meier

Edinburgh University Footlights have performed Sunday in the Park with George and Company in recent years. What drew you to choose Pippin for your Fringe production this year?

Amy Stinton: I pitched Pippin to the group. One of my first shows was a cabaret-style production that I loved because of the creative freedom. Falk and I did it together, and it was a blast. As a director, I saw everyone in peak creative mode. For my first Fringe, I wanted to recapture that feeling of complete creativity. While researching shows, I rediscovered Pippin. I’d heard of it before and loved the music. Looking into it more, I appreciated how it’s all about creativity, storytelling, and the love of theatre. The music and dance are amazing, and there’s so much flexibility with it. The 2013 revival was set in a circus, which we’re not doing, but even without those elements, you can do whatever you want. When we started discussing it, we were all excited by the possibilities. I think that was key – it’s such a creative and collaborative piece.

Pippin premiered on Broadway in 1972. What unique interpretation or vision are you bringing to this production of Pippin?

Amy Stinton: The original Pippin is quite different from the 2013 revival, which is probably more familiar to people our age. The original was more pieced together, with various moving parts but no clear theme – it was theatre at its core. The 2013 version was distinctly circus-themed, with acrobats and amazing tricks. Given our limited Fringe space, we wanted something more intimate, closer to the original. We’ve drawn inspiration from 1970s traveling theatres, which were politically charged and pushed for creative innovation. We’re leaning into that by being creative, pushing storytelling boundaries, and embracing a make-do-and-mend feel. Everything around the stage is interconnected, and the costumes look purposefully handmade and unique, not just thrown together.

Tom Beazley: The original Pippin was really ahead of its time. It was the first musical to have a trailer, which is cool to look at now. Audiences might think it was written much later because it’s so meta-theatrical and still relevant. It touches on the monarchy, religious war, and other issues that are very much in the zeitgeist right now. It feels like such a modern musical, despite being written so long ago.

Pippin is an exploration of life through different soundscapes, vignettes, and musical or genre styles. Each chapter of Pippin’s self-discovery has a different tone and texture. How are you going to navigate these shifts in mood and atmosphere?

Falk Meier: The variety of music in Pippin is particularly striking. While it incorporates contemporary 70s rock elements and clean piano, it also features Fosse-style intricate jazz. The score uses synthesizers, which were popular in jazz scores of the 60s and 70s. The music reflects Pippin’s journey through a crazy storyline. There are sensual moments, rocky and dancy parts, a brutal war section, sweet loving moments, and brash arrogant bits. All these moods are mirrored in the music and choreography. By the end, without giving too many spoilers, the music simplifies as Pippin discovers what’s important to him. The score evolves with Pippin’s character, from complex and varied to something more focused and meaningful.

Rose Roberts: At first listen, the music might seem very varied. But when you’re choreographing, listening on repeat with headphones, you notice so many subtle motifs throughout Pippin’s journey. They’ve taken certain moments and played with them throughout the show. This makes it easier to link different parts, especially choreographically. You can reference earlier movements, emphasizing that it’s still Pippin, even as he develops and changes.

The music and lyrics for Pippin are written by the incredible Stephen Schwartz. How have you approached the choreography and musical arrangements for this production?

Rose Roberts: Pippin was originally choreographed by Fosse, another huge name. When approaching work by such big creatives, you must accept that you’re not them. I faced a similar challenge last year choreographing A Chorus Line. It’s about digging into what makes the show important and which bits really resonate with people. For example, The Manson Trio is iconic Fosse choreography. So, we might preserve that, maybe with our own twist, but keep the style. Then you can identify elements where you can do your own thing. It’s a balance between respecting what’s there and knowing where that acknowledgment ends, so you can have your own creative fun. If you just do a carbon copy, you won’t enjoy it creatively.

Amy Stinton: Throughout all the dance numbers, with our variety of creatives, we’re trying to tell the story in as many ways as possible. We’ve played around with different dance styles, which is exciting. It means everything feels new and different, but it all flows nicely together, weaving in those core motifs that define the show.

Falk Meier: With traveling cart performance, they could do anything – tap, Fosse, all sorts of styles – which is crazy. As a musical director with a classical background, I love analysing the score’s intentions. Why is there a crescendo here? What I’ve found particularly with Pippin and is reminiscent of other musicals I’ve done like A Chorus Line or Jesus Christ Superstar, is that the lyric writing is gorgeous and intentional. The use of consonance, long vowel sounds, and endings is deliberate. Some phrases have more t’s and fricatives, others are smoother. It’s all very purposeful. We’re getting the cast to understand the meaning behind the lyrics and why they’re written in a certain way. In group numbers, we explore why harmonies go in specific directions, ensuring everyone understands the same thing and how it comes across to the audience. It’s about performing this amazing music as best as possible. This extends to the band too. I’ve been looking at the band books, and they’re surprisingly dense. I shouldn’t have been surprised given the wonderful orchestration, but it’s something I’ll be nit-picky about.

Magic to Do is the opening song of Pippin. How are you going to balance the show’s more intimate moments with its larger spectacle elements?

Amy Stinton: At its core, Pippin is about characters, especially Pippin himself who drives the entire show. We’re lucky to have Dan Bryant playing Pippin. He has that youthful quality so crucial to the character, as it’s really a coming-of-age story. As you follow Pippin, you experience these ebbs and flows with him. There are lovely, intimate moments, particularly with Katherine, played by Allison Lavercombe. These scenes flow nicely, feeling separate from the main spectacle. Pippin is drawn in and out of these huge spectacles, but interestingly, the ensemble is constantly present. Even in intimate moments, they’re there. So, when they become more prominent later, it’s not jarring. They’ve been creating that intimate atmosphere and then transition into more energetic spectacles, be it a big singing number or an exciting dance routine. It’s lovely how it flows back and forth. You just follow Pippin, and with the music, you really feel it.

Rose Roberts: It really helps that we have the Leading Player character, played by Gemima Iseka-Bekano. She guides Pippin from place to place, moment to moment, keeping the show moving. It’s a very fluid production that never falls stagnant because the Leading Player is there to keep it going.

Amy Stinton: Even during intimate moments in the show, it’s not like they end abruptly. The Leading Player always comes in before a moment ends, pulling you into the next one. This keeps the energy going and the story flowing smoothly.

Are there any particular scenes or musical numbers you’re especially excited for audiences to experience?

Falk Meier: Morning Glow comes halfway through the show, after Pippin has done something terrible. He’s trying to find his way out, and the Leading Player is helping him. The Leading Player guides Pippin’s journey and leads the other players, pushing Pippin where they want him to go. In Morning Glow, you really see this dynamic. They’re driving him, and then Pippin starts to see what’s coming. Musically, it’s a wonderful moment.

Amy Stinton: Morning Glow is just so lovely. When they sang it the other day, it gave me genuine chills. It’s such a high point of the show. Despite the darker moments, it’s incredibly hopeful. I hope that anyone having a bad day will experience this “everything is possible” feeling or sense of triumph at the end of Act 1.

Tom Beazley: Our cast is fantastic – 17 incredibly talented people. In moments like Morning Glow, you feel them all come together, and it really hits you. Especially when Falk is teaching inside the room, it’s something truly special.

Amy Stinton: I think Magic to Do is also a high point for me. The music is great, but the choreography is just amazing too. It’s the opening number, so it must be good – that’s the rule, right? And Magic to Do is the perfect opening number. It just pulls you in. Everyone’s there, and it’s such high energy. It builds so beautifully. We’ve got this great bit of choreography which is so quick, and you can feel the electricity of the whole cast. It’s really fun.

Rose Roberts: I think there are also two different numbers in the show where everyone is doing their own thing. We’ve got Glory and With You, and it’s an opportunity for every single person in the cast to shine doing their own thing. The audience can choose to look wherever they want. We’re not trying to draw your eye to a particular point; we want audience members to choose who they want to focus on. And if they’re like me, who’s going to be watching every night in the audience, they can watch a different part every day instead of watching the same thing. So, I’m excited to get those two numbers on stage.

Tom Beazley: On the Right Track as well.

Amy Stinton: There’s just too much talent! They were singing On the Right Track the other day, and we haven’t stopped singing it since.

Have you faced any challenges during the rehearsal process so far?

Tom Beazley: I think it’s always hard at Fringe because it’s a very difficult thing. You’ve got quite a short space of time, and we’re a very big team, a very big group of people working on the show. It’s very rare for this to be someone’s sole project. The cast are talented; they’re being pulled in different directions. That could have been a big issue, but we get commitment from everyone. They’re all giving it their all, and even if they’re saying, “For this two-hour slot I need to leave early,” the hour and a half they’re there, we’re getting full energy. So, it’s making our jobs very easy because we’ve got the same drive. We care about it, the cast all care about it. That level of dedication and professionalism for a cast of students is rare but very much appreciated.

Rose Roberts: Especially a cast of students who are all going through their graduations. There’s so much going on, a lot of emotions, everything is happening for them, and they’re still dedicated to showing up with all of themselves.

Falk Meier: It’s nice because a lot of the shows we do are during term time. During the Fringe, everyone is a bit more relaxed. We come to rehearsals, check in with people, and then we’re into it. Everyone has this rhythm and schedule, and we can all sleep a bit longer. Even with the limited time we have, it has felt much more relaxed because we have this chunk of time and come in prepared and do our thing.

Tom Beazley: We’re blocking the show in three weeks and then polishing for four. By the time Pippin starts, it’ll be my sixth show at the venue Paradise St Augustine’s. The three of us (Falk, Rose, and I) have all worked there before quite a few times, so we’ve got a good grounding of the expectations going in. I’d like to think we’re pushing the boundaries of what we can do at the Fringe because we’ve got a good understanding of what’s required and know the space, especially since doing A Chorus Line.

How are the audience brought into what is happening onstage?

Amy Stinton: There’s a lot of audience participation. They are spoken to, there’s no fourth wall. The whole thing is about performing out, so the Leading Player and all the players, as well as Pippin, are constantly talking to the audience. If you’re coming to watch, be prepared to be stared at!

Rose Roberts: A lot of my choreography is like, and now we have eight counts to stare a member of the audience down.

Amy Stinton: The whole thing is about telling a story and trying to captivate them. We want them to love it so much that they’re really going to be pulled in by these characters. The Leading Player especially basically addresses the audience for the whole show because she’s the narrator. There are also other moments of audience participation. There’s some singing – I won’t tell you which bit, but it’s in there! Hopefully, it’ll bring up the energy of the audience and help them have a good time.

Pippin is a coming-of-age musical that explores one man’s journey to find his purpose and place in life. What do you think makes your production of Pippin relevant to modern audiences?

Amy Stinton: The special thing about doing Pippin with such a young group of people, which I love, is it’s relevant to everyone in the room, including all of us. It’s about finding yourself, finding what you want in life. Obviously, I can’t speak too much from experience because I’m only 21, but I think that message never stops, no matter how old you are. You’ll always be questioning your place in the world, your purpose in life. The world can be overwhelming, and sometimes you just need to focus on what’s important to you. Pippin has such a strong message of family and love which is so lovely. Pippin gets so overwhelmed by things like trying to find glory and trying to find fame and fortune, when what’s really important to him is the simple life – just having family and people that he loves, and spending time with them. It’s such an important thing to remember as you’re finding your own way in the world. Especially as university students, trying to find yourself and what you’re going to do in the future, it’s just remembering not to get too overwhelmed by it. Try to remember that at the end of the day, staying true to yourself and staying true to the people you love is the most important thing in life.

Tom Beazley: There’s a great number sung by the character Berthe, who is portrayed by Orly Benn. It’s all about living and enjoying living, and not getting bogged down in exactly what Amy was talking about. Berthe’s a grandmother and the message is as relevant to her as it is for Pippin, the audience watching, and all of us working on it. It has a good message.

Does Pippin get his perfect ending? Does he truly find the thing he is looking for?

Falk Meier: Yes.

Rose Roberts: Yeah

Amy Stinton: At the end, it’s hinted that Theo will become the next Pippin. It sounds meta, but it’s suggested that Theo will start his own journey, becoming the new person trying to find his way in the world. The focus shifts from whether Pippin finds his perfect ending to how the cycle of self-discovery never stops – it just continues. Pippin’s actual ending is perhaps better than what The Leading Player has planned for him.

Pippin is about the love of storytelling, and I was wondering if the same is at the core of Edinburgh University Footlights and why you have been telling great stories through the medium of musicals since you were founded in 1989?

Tom Beazley: I think what must be said is that the four of us are very close friends, and the reason for that is Footlights and our sister society, Edinburgh University Savoy Opera Group (EUSOG). It seems like everyone’s best friends are made during these shows as they graduate and move on from Footlights. It brings people together in a way unlike anything else, and anyone who has done theatre kind of gets that closeness in some form or another. As we were talking about with regard to Pippin, as you’re growing up and finding your place in the world, it’s important to have people around you who are going to support you. I think these shows give you that support and community. Coming into shows with that energy and closeness allows you to create something really good because it allows you to take chances. You trust the people around you, and from that comes excellent working relationships. Whether that’s between the cast members or the production team, band, musicians, technicians, designers – you can work together with a single vision and make something that is really strong.

Falk Meier: None of us study theatre. All the student societies are the same in that we came to Edinburgh to study our degrees, but there’s this great opportunity to make some memorable experiences. We have gained some unbelievable skills that would be hard to gain otherwise. We’ve made incredible friends, had a positive impact on the people around us, and learnt to do something we’ve found we love. I mean, I’m going to study music for a year, essentially Musical Direction. There are a couple of people who have gone through this process and do it professionally now – producers, directors – who didn’t study it academically but have still gone on to achieve that.

Rose Roberts: I did a Maths degree and now I choreograph.

Tom Beazley: It’s also nice because, for that reason, everyone is on an even footing. I think in some places where there are specific theatre degrees, you get people who study theatre and people who just do it for fun. Whereas the nice thing about Footlights is that everyone is doing it because they want to do it, and everyone’s on an even footing. It just creates that nice level playing field.

Ideally, what do you want audiences to take away from your production of Pippin?

Amy Stinton: The final feeling of Pippin is one of mystery and intrigue. We have a joke when asked about what Pippin is about because we all look at each other and sort of signal “where to begin?” It’s a show within a show, it’s about storytelling, and there’s a lot of character work because at its core, it’s about Pippin and what he does. I hope the audience will come away with a sense of relief for Pippin, that they’ve followed this story and seen this character prevail with a good ending. In that moment when the show ends, Pippin is content, and hopefully audience members will be inspired by that or feel a sense of hope when it comes to this journey of self-discovery. They’ll see it can come to a content and hopeful ending, and that Pippin makes a brave choice to go with his gut.

Rose Roberts: Pippin is one of those shows where you know you’ve done it well if the audience leaves not quite knowing how they feel.

Amy Stinton: It should end with a questioning of what’s going to happen next. Obviously, overall, we just want them to be entertained. There are so many exciting moments in the show, it’s funny, and the script is hilarious. Hopefully they’ll come away with a joyful, hopeful, and full-of-life feeling.

Rose Roberts: Joie de vivre!

Amy Stinton: Exactly.

Do you have any favourite lines from the show?

Falk Meier: I was working with Dan, our Pippin, on Corner of the Sky, which is his wide-eyed “Oh, I don’t know what I want to do with my life, I have to find belonging” moment. What I asked him to centre the song around is this line: “And don’t you see, I want my life to be something more than long.” I wanted him to frame the entire song essentially around that. I mean, my favourite quote from Blade Runner is “The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long,” and that echoes the sentiment of the song – you don’t want your life to just be long and boring; you want to do something with it, and you want to find your purpose in something.

Finally, how would you sum up the show in three words?

All: Intriguing, dynamic, and rule-breaking.

REVIEW: Here You Come Again – The New Dolly Parton Musical

Published on July 26, 2024 by Rose MurrayLeave a comment

Here You Come Again is a moving celebration of life, using Dolly Parton’s music to uplift and inspire

This brand-new musical comedy, directed by Gabriel Barre and performed at the Edinburgh Playhouse, is a high-octane, charming theatrical event that encourages everyone to embrace their true selves rather than settling for second best. Paul Wills’ incredible set design transports you to Kevin’s childhood attic bedroom, filled with Dolly Parton memorabilia.

Parton, Kevin’s gay icon, serves as a guiding light through his trials: moving from the bustle of London back to his parents’ home, navigating COVID-19 hygiene measures, and dealing with a breakup from his ex-boyfriend Jez. The cozy cabin aesthetic, along with the claustrophobic yet affectionate atmosphere created by his parents’ hovering and nutrient-packed smoothies, takes the audience back to their own childhoods and the life-altering context of COVID-19 in which the musical is set.

This time setting is perfect, as many of us found ourselves examining our lives and relationships during the pandemic, questioning whether we were living authentically or merely to maintain the status quo. Steven Webb brilliantly portrays Kevin, the musical’s protagonist, with a quirky, endearing, and relatable performance. At nearly 40, Kevin is at a standstill both romantically and career-wise. Webb’s upbeat energy and charisma charge the entire room. As Kevin delves deeper into his problems, the audience is prompted to reflect on their own issues, hopes, and aspirations.

Tricia Paoluccio’s portrayal of Dolly Parton is nothing short of spellbinding. It’s not an imitation but an effortless embodiment of Parton in all her Southern glory. Paoluccio’s powerful yet soothing vocals, mannerisms, and body language are uncanny, moving the audience to tears. Standout musical numbers include “Why’d You Come In Here Lookin’ Like That,” featuring Lizzie Gee’s vibrant choreography and Webb’s high-energy lip-sync performance in stunning drag. “Love is Like a Butterfly” serves as a gentle reminder of the importance of self-care, while “God’s Coloring Book” is a tear inducing expression of gratitude for life’s beauty. Classic hits like “Jolene” and “9 to 5” are equally stunning, creating a sea of connection in the audience that can’t be replicated in digital theatre. Paul Will’s costume design brings Hollywood glamour to Kevin’s mundane life, perfectly complementing Paoluccio’s vocal magic. The small cast, including Aidan

Cutler and Charlotte Elisabeth Yorke in multiple roles, creates an intimate exchange between performers and audience, echoing the isolation felt during the pandemic. The band, directed by keyboardist Jordan Li-Smith, brings Parton’s music to life, transforming the stage into a soul-fueled sanctuary. Writers Bruce Vilanch, Gabriel Barre, and Tricia Paoluccio seamlessly weave Parton’s music through the plot, creating relatable parallels to the audience’s pandemic experiences. The script balances nuanced honesty with lighthearted comedy, providing much-needed entertainment alongside its powerful message. In conclusion, Gabriel Barre’s Here You Come Again brings the glitz and glamour of Dolly Parton’s legendary legacy to the Edinburgh Playhouse while profoundly touching the audience. This dazzling production will leave you devoted not only to Dolly Parton but also to your authentic self, inspiring you to live life to the fullest.

REVIEW: Life of Pi

Published on June 29, 2024June 28, 2024 by Rose MurrayLeave a comment

A visually spectacular and epic tale of loss and survival.

Lolita Chakrabarti’s adaptation of Yann Martel’s Life of Pi, directed by Max Webster at the Festival Theatre, is a breathtaking journey that explores the depths of human resilience and the power of storytelling. This production masterfully blends visual spectacle with profound philosophical inquiry, creating an unforgettable theatrical experience.

At its core, Life of Pi is the tale of a young Indian boy stranded at sea with a Bengal tiger named Richard Parker. Chakrabarti’s adaptation delves deeper, unflinchingly examining the brutal realities of survival and the lengths to which one might go to endure unimaginable circumstances. Tim Hately’s ingenious set design transports the audience across time and space, from a sterile hospital room to the family-run zoo and vibrant markets of India, and finally to the vast, unforgiving Pacific Ocean. The use of floating debris, manipulated by ropes, creates a mesmerizing illusion of Pi’s 227-day ordeal at sea. This is an extended metaphor which perfectly encapsulates the story’s central theme: the blurred line between reality and imagination in the face of trauma.

Finn Caldwell’s puppetry direction is nothing short of revolutionary. The seamless integration of actors and puppets transcends mere stagecraft, becoming a profound exploration of the human-animal bond. The tiger, Richard Parker, is brought to life with such precision and emotional depth that it becomes a character as complex and nuanced as any human on stage. This masterful puppetry not only serves the narrative but also invites the audience to contemplate our connection to the natural world and the universal struggle for survival in all its forms.

The lighting design by Tim Lutkin and Tim Deiling is a character in itself, transforming the stage from the warm, golden hues of Indian markets to the cold, unforgiving blues of the open ocean. Their work goes beyond mere illumination, creating tangible atmospheres that heighten the emotional impact of each scene. Particularly noteworthy is their ability to conjure the illusion of water, making the audience feel the precariousness of Pi’s situation.

Carolyn Downing’s sound design envelops the theatre in an auditory landscape that ranges from the gentle lapping of waves to the terrifying roar of storms. Her work adds depth to Pi’s hallucinations and memories, blurring the line between past and present, reality and fantasy.

The cast delivers performances of remarkable depth and versatility. Sonya Venugopal’s Pi is a tour de force, capturing both the wide-eyed innocence of youth and the fierce determination of a survivor. Goldy Notay brings warmth and spiritual depth to her portrayal of Amma, while Ralph Birtwell’s nuanced performance as Pi’s father showcases the complexities of parental love and authority.

Life of Pi is more than just a visually stunning production; it’s a profound meditation on the nature of truth and the stories we tell ourselves to make sense of tragedy. It challenges the audience to consider whether objective fact is always more valuable than personal truth, and how we find meaning in the face of loss.

This adaptation doesn’t just retell Martel’s story; it reimagines it for the stage in a way that fully utilizes the unique possibilities of theatre. It’s a testament to the power of live performance to move, challenge, and transform its audience. Life of Pi is not just a play to be watched, but an experience to be felt, a journey that will linger in the mind and heart long after the final curtain falls.

REVIEW: This Is Memorial Device

Published on April 9, 2024April 9, 2024 by Rose MurrayLeave a comment

A delve into the passionate, absurd, and all-consuming nature of music fandom during one’s formative years

Adapted and directed by Graham Eatough from David Keenan’s cult novel, This is Memorial Device is a one-man show that ingeniously incorporates four additional cast members through on-screen performances projected upstage. The protagonist Ross Raymond, portrayed by Paul Higgins, energetically and vividly investigates the fictional history of the 1980s post-punk scene in Airdrie. He is aided digitally by characters Andrea Anderson, Miriam McCluskie, David Kilpatrick, and Monica Lawson, whose lives were profoundly affected by the punk rock band ‘Memorial Device’. Also, Martin Quinn, as the band’s lead guitarist, Big Patty, makes his flamboyant presence felt through a cassette tape interview conducted by Ross Raymond.

The performances are grounded, charming, and authentic, making the audience feel privy to audacious secrets and stories, or a vulnerable and unique stream of consciousness. Martin Clark’s video design allows the audience to get close to these characters, despite them not performing live physically on stage. The documentary-style videos provide a sense of intimacy, as the audience can see the pores of the characters’ skin, the blush of their cheeks, and the flicker or swell of their eyes as memories are reawakened. This adds to the concept of Ross unpacking and revisiting memories as a mature fanboy, and the simultaneous distance and closeness between himself now, and the “glory years” then.

Higgin’s engaging and enthralling storytelling makes the audience understand how much the band’s impact reverberated through the local community, even in small yet equally valid ways. Kally Lloyd Jone’s movement direction gives Higgin’s performance the physicality and stylistic expression of the hysteria, exhilaration, and immediacy that the show’s music creates. Nigel Edward’s effervescent lighting choices capture the crazy, radical, reckless, buzzing, and unfiltered atmosphere during the 80s’ flashbacks. Anna Orton’s set design, with the stage cluttered with memorabilia kept for decades in Ross’s basement, as well as amps and guitars, transforms the stage from a grungy and shadowy storage space into a dome and sanctuary for nostalgia and punk rock – a beautiful, bittersweet medley of emotions and youth.

The music by Stephen Pastel and Gavin Thomson ignites This is Memorial Device with its eclectic, hard-edged melodies and anti-establishment messaging. Gavin Thomson helped with the spectacular aural hypnotism with his sound design and enveloped the audience in the electrifying atmosphere that Ross misses. The deconstructed mannequins that cleverly represent ‘Memorial Device’ are assembled by Higgins from parts found in cardboard storage boxes. Two mannequins represent Big Patty (wearing shades and a tattered top hat), the drummer Richard dressed more smartly, and the brain-injured lyricist Lucas is represented by a tripod, creating a visual divide between him and the others. Lucas has his own “memorial device” – a notebook to recount what happened the day prior. The character distinctions are clear, but their differences interestingly complement each other in the band. Rather grimly, Ross now retrospectively worships Lucas, understanding with time, life experience, and wisdom what Lucas was getting at with his improvised songs onstage and his initially nonsensical scribblings.

The choice of using mannequins instead of people is also well conceived because it harkens back to what ‘Memorial Device’ did to attract attention to passersby in their supposed heyday. However, it also highlights how Higgins is alone in his basement using objects to help piece together his own memories, musical and social dreams and fantasies, giving him comfort from what slice of that he had in the past. In sum, Graham Eatough’s This is Memorial Device is a stimulating, riveting theatrical adaptation of and celebration of local and personal history, heritage, and music. It also contrastingly explores the desired absolute abandonment of the past and the ability to live for the present day, with music serving as a spiritual awakening that we are all invited to participate in.

REVIEW: Semele

Published on March 29, 2024March 30, 2024 by Rose Murray2 Comments

Edinburgh Studio Opera and Edinburgh University Chamber Orchestra enchant the audience with their sublime rendition of Handel’s Semele.

Handel’s Semele performed by Edinburgh Studio Opera with Edinburgh University Chamber Orchestra, and directed by Roxana Fischbacher, at the Pleasance Theatre is a captivating baroque opera where the divine and human realms become exquisitely interwoven. Its magnificent melodies, astonishing arias, and coruscating choruses mirror the potent desires driving the narrative’s core. The forbidden love story becomes a canvas for extraordinary vocal artistry, each note painting an entrancing picture of the ramifications of trying to get one’s appetite for desire satiated.

The Edinburgh University Chamber Orchestra delivered thrilling, emotion-charged, and rousing music led by the masterful Kristine Donnan. She directed the animated ensemble consisting of strings, woodwinds, brass, and percussion instruments with vigor, discipline, and passion. The orchestra was full-bodied, spirited, and smoothly synchronized – a solid and uplifting foundation for the show’s action, mood, and atmosphere. Valerie Thibault brought fear and suspense during dramatic moments and helped create a terrifically tense and precarious environment on stage.

The production for Semele was incredible. Freya Game’s lighting blanketed the stage in luscious celestial light that made for ethereal and beautiful viewing. Some notable examples of the lighting were the frightening flashes of lightning accompanied by the loud crackling of thunder that abruptly interrupted the wedding ceremony. Also, her use of lighting provided moments of hope – addictive shreds of light that would poke through, emulating natural blinding sunlight that stylistically illuminated the faces of the actors on stage. I also loved the use of red and blue gels to create ambiance and echo the emotional dynamic of a scene and the temperaments the characters were in. Elana Mulligan’s set design created a fantastic Ancient Greek aesthetic that was fun and fluid, giving the players and singers alike a lot to work with, especially in full cast moments. The set pieces were used effectively, and the staging enabled dynamic movement and positioning for the performers’ exchanges. This made the show even more engaging to watch, as every set piece had a purpose and was frequently utilized by various characters. The costumes by Charlotte Foster were truly stunning, well-made, and reeked of grandeur, wealth, and status. They matched the Ancient Greek aesthetic perfectly as well as the personality of each of the characters. I loved how she used costumes to divide the characters based on their mortality, emotional states, standpoints, and relations to one another. The starkest examples of this were Semele, Ino, Jupiter, and Juno. As well as the careful consideration of colour, material, and cut, even the way the costume was draped on each performer expressed who the character they were portraying was.

The entire cast of Semele is sensational. The chorus excelled at working as one synchronized body, moving from moments of tranquility to raucous chaos with no difficulty. Their little engagements and interactions demonstrated their dedication, focus, and concentration as a chorus, and their commitment immersed the audience further into the opera. We felt like members of the drama and calamity that was going on in the action of Semele. The melodies among the cast chimed and were mesmerizing; these moments made the opera feel truly mythical, magical, and special. The main cast demonstrated how multi-skilled and talented they were by merging their astounding musical skill with impressive acting and movement ability and really brought Handel’s work to life. Claire Gilchrist as Semele owned the stage, gliding in movement as much as her vocals did up and down arpeggios. Her vibrato was intoxicating, and her angelic vocals were wondrous. She made the theatre an echo chamber of bliss, inviting us all into her world of desire, longing, and ambition. Lina Turner as Ino used wonderful facial expressions and bolstered around the stage amazingly portraying absolute disgrace, disgust, and distress. This forced her to never leave our sight when she was on stage. Madison Cozens was an operatic powerhouse who filled the space with her insane earthy and vengeful vocals. Harry Lempriere-Johnstone was striking and great as the adulterous and short-tempered Jupiter and offered a unique and articulate voice to the opera.

In sum, this production of Handel’s Semele is astonishing and a massive success across the board. From the magnificent music produced by the superb and professional Edinburgh University Chamber Orchestra to the unanimous stellar performances from Edinburgh Studio Opera, this version of Semele is impressive and entertaining throughout. Further congratulations to the crew and production team that made it happen. Make sure to see this before it closes! It was my first opera, and I found it easy to understand and accessible as a newcomer. I could follow the plot and the characters’ journeys with ease and thoroughly enjoyed myself.

REVIEW: Pain and I

Published on March 27, 2024 by Rose MurrayLeave a comment

Sarah Hopfinger daringly delves into her profound and multifaceted relationship with chronic pain

Pain and I, created and performed by Sarah Hopfinger at Summerhall, intimately explores the trials and tribulations of living with chronic pain. Hopfinger renders viscerally palpable the relentless torment – both emotional and corporeal – of life with chronic pain. Through an exquisite interweaving of playful yet gripping choreography, avant-garde dance rituals, and raw autobiographical admissions, Hopfinger compellingly envelops the audience in her disquieting and pain-afflicted psyche. The spectral musical compositions by Alicia Jane Turner elevates Hopfinger’s already heightened moments as well as providing momentary support and sanctitude. The rich and peaceful soundscape is a strong constant throughout Pain and I and serves as a soothing and smoothing-over agent to the chaotic, sporadic upheaval chronic pain wrecks that is untethered to rhythm, logic and routine.

Hopfinger not only discusses the social isolation and pressures attributed to having chronic pain within the show’s context but also expresses how difficult it is to be a performer or spectator of theatre while suffering from it. For this reason, I loved how accessible, comfortable, and inclusive she made the theatre space for audience members. In the Pain and I handouts and in an announcement delivered by Hopfinger at the beginning of the show, she encourages the audience to take however long they need to settle in, sit, stand, stretch, stim, snack, drink, make noise, look away, close their eyes, lie down, lean, move around, leave and come back. I admire how the audience were encouraged to prioritize doing what is most caring and comfortable for their bodies and minds rather than being a polite audience member. This decision perfectly served Hopfinger’s message of the whole show – to care for our bodies and ourselves and each other even or especially in times of personal and collective pain. This directly and powerfully challenges the setup and strict convention of traditional theatre spaces and the regimented rules that they pose. Headphones and fidget toys were also provided which further demonstrates how much Hopfinger took the comfort, accessibility, and inclusion of her audience into consideration. It acts as a productive response to the problems she expresses in the show as well as how theatre could be a more diversified and accessible place to those with disabilities.

The whole performance is incredibly honest, moving, and authentic and we are able to emotionally access and receive Hopfinger very well because of the minimal staging. The only thing apart from her onstage is a glass of water to rehydrate herself after exerting a lot of energy in high-energy and buzzing choreography. She takes moments after these very active sections to catch her breath and drink water which I think adds yet another layer of realism and genuinety to the stories she’s telling. It also demonstrates the self-care that she encourages in the show despite the pain and self-hatred she may experience at times. It also breaks barriers between her and the audience and removes the hierarchy of the performer above audience member. This is also cleverly demonstrated with the audience being placed at a very similar level and height to Hopfinger onstage, making the audience and her even more equal in their positions. This adds to the idea that we share collective pain and Pain and I provides a platform in which people can empathize, feel heard, validated and understood.

Her nudity onstage and lack of any set, costume, or props exposes us to her and focuses our attention on her body as a working vessel or machine, which is sometimes defective but also expansive in what many other things it can still do. Michaella Fee’s stark lighting design uncovers Hopfinger even more and leaves her no place to hide – all or her quirks on show and facing the reality of her chronic pain in badass starkality, despite her chronic pain being an “unwanted lover”. The movement is cleverly designed for a naked body and instead of a straight reading of it as being vulnerable and fragile, this indefinitely proves to be a bold gesture of acceptance, goodwill and owning and appreciating what she’s got.

What Hopfinger does best in Pain and I is express, in a superbly simple and relatable way, the contradictory and convoluted feelings she has towards her body. As an audience, we can relate to the insecurity and fear of our own bodies’ shortcomings and the potential for pain they hold, despite not directly suffering from chronic pain ourselves. One particularly poignant moment that moved me to tears was a sequence of short statements delivered by Hopfinger, including, “I can’t see you,” “I can’t trust you,” “I can’t leave you,” “I can’t make love to you,” “I can’t forgive you,” and “I can’t forget you.” These thoughts, coupled with Turner’s music, hit the audience profoundly, conveying the agony this invisible, immaterial, and unwelcome pain has caused Sarah and many other people who suffer from chronic pain and also her struggle to address it without self-loathing, as it has become an inextricable part of her being. Through these scenes of repeated dialogue delivered with varying intonations, volumes, pitches, and tones, Hopfinger masterfully demonstrates the quaking, unpredictable, stinging terror of chronic pain and how disruptive it is to her personal life and view of self.

Throughout Pain and I, although terrified of what her body might cease to allow her to do, Hopfinger treats herself with ardent, disciplined gentleness and tenderness. Her slow, careful caresses provide fleeting but meaningful moments of relief, emblematic of her efforts to protect, care for, and love herself instead of attacking the things she hates and cannot change. Through this, Hopfinger gains a sense of peace, agency, and empowerment, taking back the power and autonomy over her body. It made me appreciate the day-to-day functionality of my body instead of fixating on the aesthetic and superficial image society constantly pressures us to conform to.

Ultimately, Pain and I beautifully examines Hopfinger’s complicated companion, chronic pain, and shows just how intricate this relationship truly is. She not only does this but challenges traditional theatrical rules by having the setup and content of her performance actively rebel rigidity. What she and her team have achieved is inspirational, and they have created an innovative and memorable performance. Be sure to catch Pain and I on its tour around Scotland!

REVIEW: Mother Clap’s Molly House

Published on March 16, 2024March 20, 2024 by Rose MurrayLeave a comment

A flamboyant celebration of queer sexuality and society’s reviled outcasts

Conor O’Cuinn’s revivial of Mark Ravenhill’s Mother Clap’s Molly House roars onto the Bedlam Theatre’s stage, flamboyantly celebrating queer sexuality and society’s reviled outcasts. This deliciously ribald comedy transports us to the underground molly houses of London, where the larger-than-life Mother Clap (a tour-de-force Olivia Martin) rules over a debauched sanctuary for her beloved family of “mollies”.

In Mother Clap’s domain, rigid moral boundaries are gleefully transgressed. Ravenhill’s consistently clever script blends profane, riotous comedy with surprising tenderness. Dreams, desires, and unfulfilled yearnings haunt every scene – from infertility struggles to giving deliriously vivid life to our most lurid fantasies through the brilliant use of flowing silk drapery framing the stage.

The tremendous ensemble attacks their roles with unbridled gusto. Olivia Martin seamlessly morphs from timid widow Mrs. Tull into the unabashedly carnal ringleader, commanding the stage with exquisite delivery and exaggerated physicality. The supporting cast matches her intensity, with Seb Elder’s Orme radiating yearning for true intimacy, Leo Shaw delivering a devilishly witty and physically dynamic performance as the wry Mr. Tull, and Ted Achery’s fiery Princess Seraphina exuding scorn and fragile vulnerability.

Musically, the production soars on celestial vocals from Chelsea Laurik, evoking a divine realm that contrasts with the overt carnality. Nash Norgaard is a hilarious highlight as the lascivious Eros, providing relatable peeks into our most private fantasies.

The anachronistic 2001 segment of the play is rooted in spotlighting LGBTQ lives during the AIDS crisis. However, the storyline frustratingly devolved into reductive kink and cliched “misfit” portrayals, undercutting its initial poignancy, which is a real set back of the script and could have benefited from a more nuanced portrayal on stage.

Technically strong elements include the vividly colored period costumes and the fluid staging punctuated by the central four-poster bed – an apt symbol of the play’s explorations of morality and desire. However, moments like Martin’s muddled stylized movement piece could have benefited from sharper choreography.

While Ravenhill’s script blends humor and pathos deftly, this production suffers from tonal whiplash, veering between insightful tenderness and repetitive, cheap gags that undermine its resonant core. Yet at its best, Mother Clap’s is an admirably ambitious, bawdy celebration of the timeless human needs for belonging, safety, and unbridled sensual expression. While flawed in its tonal inconsistencies and pacing, Mother Clap’s Molly House still deserves a robust three stars for its daring ambition and joyful celebration of outsider sexuality.

REVIEW: Two Sisters

Published on February 18, 2024February 18, 2024 by Rose MurrayLeave a comment

Two Sisters offers an authentic and unfiltered look at adolescence, regret, and the distinct dynamics between sisters

This gripping new play by David Greig performed at the Lyceum Theatre immerses the audience in a thrilling and moving exploration of the turbulent teenage years, nostalgic childhood vacation memories, and how certain parts of our core identities and hangups may persist unless we actively strive for personal transformation.

The stellar lead actors – Jess Hardwick as Emma and Shauna Macdonald as Amy – are supported by a talented chorus of young performers who physically embody the sisters’ rebellious and insecure 16-year-old selves. These modern teens have their ubiquitous phones and contemporary music, yet they still engage in timeless youthful antics like carelessly shooting tin cans with air rifles – just as the reckless, restless teenage Amy and Emma themselves did at that awkward age not so long ago.

This multi-generational layering is an ingenious framing device that serves to personally connect the audience to the thematic heart of the story. Indeed, from the very start we are directly engaged and immersed – the chorus invites us to close our eyes and vividly recall the emotions, fascinations, events and adventures of our own teenage years. What were you wearing back then? Who were you spending time with? What sorts of impulsive, hormone-driven escapades were you getting into? It’s a powerful theatrical technique that forges an immediate visceral bond between the material and our own lived experiences.

This ghostly chorus of youngsters lingers ever-present in the background of the action, serving as a poignant metaphorical reminder of who brash, confused Emma and her wilder sister Amy once were. Yet their constant presence and interjections also highlights the unstoppable march of time – while Emma and Amy are now grown adults, there is a whole new generation of wide-eyed kids making memories at this shabby-chic, soon-to-be-closed Fife holiday resort. The musical tastes and social trends evolve from decade to decade, but the caravan park itself remains an unchanging, weather-beaten constant.Through the complex journeys of the central sister characters, Greig poignantly shows how we often idealize and romanticize our carefree teen years in hindsight, viewing that liminal phase as a simpler time before adult concerns and regrets overwhelmed us.

And he reveals how even now as mothers themselves, Emma and Amy haven’t fully shed the burdens and emotional baggage of that chaotic period of hormonal changes and pivotal life choices. Through meticulous costume design, the distinct personalities and differing paths of the two sisters are visually established from the outset. Emma appears the picture of purity and elegance in a flowing white summer dress, while Amy’s goth attire – a shiny black miniskirt, lacy black tights and boots – signals her rebellious spirit and stubborn desire to cling to the spontaneity of youth.

As they engage in often funny, uncomfortably honest, and nakedly human banter, Greig reveals the facades – Emma may outwardly seem to have her life together, conventionally settled down with family, but her wilder sister Amy has in many ways actually lived more fully and adventurously, embracing experiences and taking chances Emma was too timid or tethered to risk.

In two brilliant anchoring performances, Jess Hardwick imbues the introverted Emma with thoughtfulness, nuanced depth, and complete believability. She movingly portrays a woman now petrified that without the conventional trappings of marriage, motherhood, and middle-class security, her life will be devoid of meaning. By contrast, Shauna Macdonald is simply superb as the raw, viscerally relatable Amy – outwardly projecting a veneer of cool confidence but inwardly battling inner demons of unfulfilled purpose and adrift uncertainty.

Macdonald’s palpable chemistry and easy rapport with Erik Olsson in the role of the laid-back, playful Lance is captivating. The two actors effortlessly convey the lingering sparks and shared history of their characters’ youthful romance from decades prior. All the awkwardness, giddy excitement, and heartache of first love is present in their every exchange. David Greig’s smart, thoughtful staging reinforces the deeper themes at play.

When Emma and Amy find themselves in Lance’s claustrophobic and modest dwelling, the staging underscores their uneasy intimacy and how inextricably bound they remain despite their differences. The set’s weathered postcard backdrop that has started to peel away at the corner visually hints at the ephemeral, fleeting nature of holidays, good times and idyllic nostalgic memories.

And in a particularly impactful sequence, when heartbreak and romantic turmoil plays out before us as enacted by the younger chorus, it’s as if Amy and Emma are bearing witness to their naive adolescent selves, imparting maternal wisdom and hard-earned perspective to console the foolish, melodramatic romantic notions of their former immature psyches.

Anchoring it all are the propulsive, upbeat disco tunes that energise the party scenes, viscerally transporting us back to the resort’s heyday as a packed holiday hotspot.

Overall, bolstered by the two unforgettable central performances, this is a masterful, multi-layered exploration of sisterhood, the bittersweet process of growing up, and the parts of ourselves we can never fully leave behind.

REVIEW: Guys and Dolls

Published on February 16, 2024February 15, 2024 by Rose MurrayLeave a comment

Guys and Dolls is a wholly charming production that transports audiences to 1940s New York with its colour, wit, and energy worthy of the West End stage.

The Edinburgh University Footlights’ production of Guys and Dolls at the Pleasance Theatre is a wonderful event filled with grandeur, slickness, smoothness, and class. The live orchestra and immersed cast created a nostalgic atmosphere that transported the audience back to 1940s New York. The band was exceptionally disciplined, creating a rich and soothing ambiance for the audience to bask in.

Megan Le Brocq’s mighty vocals and comedic flair made her the perfect Miss Adelaide. Her solo numbers showcased impressive belting and characterful tone. Benedict Barker’s smooth crooning and charisma shone through as Nathan Detroit. Nina Harman’s Sarah was sweet yet powerful, her crystalline soprano capturing the character’s innocence and strength. Sebastian Schneeberger’s rich vocals lent a suave swagger to his Sky Masterson. Together, their spine-tingling duets enthralled the audience.

The lively group numbers were exhilarating and filled with smiles and synchronized movement, as if the ensemble was joined together as one body. This organisation was shown at one point when some of the cast emerged in a line with each wearing a t-shirt that spelled out “NATHAN”. These group numbers grounded the production in the melodramatic, heightened New York of the 1940s.

The sophisticated, quality costumes evoked 1940s New York and fit the characters perfectly. They effectively distinguished the gamblers from the hot box dancers and displayed each character’s personality. The practical yet dazzling set with neon lights hanging above the action transported the audience to that location, aiding the storytelling.

When the missionaries walked through the audience and handed out flyers to them, it immersed me into the world on stage. I felt like part of 1940s New York after receiving my pamphlet. While the production modernized gender roles for the 1940s, the lack of diversity was a drawback.

Overall, Guys and Dolls was a fun, spellbinding show with its effervescent musical numbers, endearing romantic chemistry, and dynamic dance sequences evocative of vintage Broadway. Catch it while you can!

REVIEW: Pickled Republic

Published on February 12, 2024 by Rose MurrayLeave a comment

Pickled Republic is a surreal cabaret spectacle that ingeniously examines existentialist philosophy through deteriorating pickled produce

Ruxy Cantir’s Pickled Republic, performed at the Traverse Theatre as part of the Manipulate Festival 2024, was a delightfully chaotic, messy, and thought-provoking one-woman show examining the ephemeral and precarious nature of life and humanity’s collective pursuit of purpose and meaning.

The pickle jar setting encapsulated the restrictions and confines of life, as well as the longing to break free from life’s confines. This clever metaphor allowed the audience to join Ruxy inside the jar from the start. One could argue we’re all slowly decaying, wrestling with making peace amid that reality.

The set design centered around a dominating fork, representing our yearning for escape, answers, and freedom. Religious connotations emerged through this symbolism as well. Ruxy established this concept in their simultaneously unsettling and hilarious opening monologue by a dented tomato forgotten at the jar’s bottom. The set enabled Ruxy to seamlessly transform into an array of pickled characters. Each area of the stage became a metaphorical stage of life or perspective. We each confront mortality and time’s limits differently, portrayed genuinely and beautifully through the different pickled vegetable characters.

For instance, Ernest the pickled onion poet represents the immense pressure to produce profound work, however pretentious or hollow it ends up being. A yelp of “Fork!” comes from above almost as a warning perhaps from a fellow forgotten vegetable which panics Ernest, wondering if his time is up.

The simple yet effective costumes closely resembled the vegetables portrayed. The potato and pickle headpieces created a temporarily surreal, philosophical dream state much like the tiredness brought by late nights that bring out our daft sides. The potato’s sparkly dress showed cabaret’s glamour versus the pickle scene’s business attire. This suggested how weekend’s become an escape from dull, exhausting work weeks. Further evidenced in the frenzied pickle scene, where Ruxy slid then raced manically around the jar, wondering if this is it. Their physical exhaustion was palpable, reflecting the grind of balancing life’s demands.

The BSL interpreter was a quirky, constant aubergine companion through the many beginnings and endings of life portrayed. They seemed an angelic guardian, not rotting but steady throughout. Their quirky expressions and interactions with Ruxy lightened the mood and elicited much laughter from the audience.

The tomato scene was poignant. Ruxy happily bounced two tomatoes while seated, until squashing the right one. This repeated with the deceased tomato replaced, the repetition and inevitability creating tense poignancy. Hearing the squelches and seeing the juice made this tactile, playing God until all tomatoes met their end unceremoniously.

Of course, Ruxy was the driving force of Pickled Republic with their dynamic movement and high energy that brought versatility. Their jarring yet endearing expressions, comedic timing, audience interactions, and use of space were phenomenal. Making direct eye contact allowed Ruxy to forge deep connections with each audience member.

In just 50 minutes Ruxy achieved something incredible – every moment riveted attention. Their creative selectivity gave distinct sequences and characters, creating a multi-layered exploration of life’s frustrations and beauty. Overall, a fantastic absurdist commentary, suggesting we enjoy life rather than get bogged down by it. Ruxy’s creation was inspiring, poignant, thought-provoking, funny and simple yet juicy.