REVIEW: After the Act (A Section 28 Musical)

Rating: 5 out of 5.

A refreshingly emotive, Queer fusion of musical and documentary – deliciously camp and absolutely unmissable

The appeal of Breach Theatre’s After the Act (A Section 28 Musical), especially to the Queer community, is clear. Through the use of the voices of those who lived through this pivotal part of UK legislative history, it tells the story of Section 28, from its conception to its repeal, and the legacy that it has left us with. Against an ever-changing projection of relevant images and information, emotive personal accounts of self discovery, discrimination, and revolutionary acts are brought to life in a delightfully camp, powerfully evocative manner.

Section 28 prevented the ‘promotion of homosexuality’ in the UK from 1988-2003 (2000 in Scotland), coinciding with the height of the AIDS epidemic – a point in time where the demonisation of non-heteronormative lifestyles was rampant and comprehensive sexual education was very much needed so, understandably, feelings of isolation, fear, and hopelessness are prevalent throughout the show. But they are not overpowering; this isn’t an entirely sombre affair. There is a very relatable, undeniably British, quintessentially gay humour weaved throughout – the sort of optimism that becomes vital to so many marginalised groups in times of adversity. There is a determination to it, as well; knowing that the stories come from real people, are real experiences, and that these fellow human beings have been able to find moments of silliness and joy amongst the institutionalised trauma they experienced, brings a measure of much needed comfort; writers Billy Barrett, who also directs the show, and Ellice Stevens, who performs in it, have captured something integral to the Queer experience that is hard to define. Perhaps it’s the subversive irony, or the effervescent campness that emanates throughout – whatever it is, it hits the mark.

The music, composed and orchestrated by Frew, is great. It’s not world changing, and you could be forgiven for thinking that the tracks are a little bit same-y, but they are incredibly well put together. Vocal harmonies and counter melodies are abundant, and – notably – the cast’s voices compliment each other gorgeously. Throughout the performances were solid, characters were well defined, dialogue was delivered with a sincerity that felt more like a conversation than theatrics. There is a incredible, jovial irony to Sung-Im Her’s choreography that, alone, makes After the Act worth the ticket price; occasionally sexy, often silly, but consistently well thought out. On top of all of this, the four performers (Ericka Posadas, Nkara Stephenson, Ellice Stevens, and Zachary Willis) play a host of roles, from school children to politicians, entirely successfully. Willis, in particular, was a stand out; there was a sensitivity, an incredible attention to detail, and an innate understanding to every aspect of his performance; from adorable Danish schoolgirl, to angry Scottish father, to the lovely, darling, tragic, camp Ian – his execution of the script was immense from start to finish.

The show culminates in a reminder that, in light of the discourse surrounding trans people – trans youth in particular – discussion of Section 28 is as relevant now as it was in the 80s. For those of us who are intimately familiar with these issues, who are cognisant of the historical landscape surrounding LGBTQ+ legislation in the UK, the parallels are already very clear – but there are people, both within and outside of this community, who are not aware of how similar the rhetoric being used is. After the Act (A Section 28 Musical) is as much an educational tool as it is an enjoyable piece of theatre. There are so many reasons to go and see this show; it is laugh-out-loud funny, heart-wrenchingly poignant, masterfully crafted, and performed with joy, respect, and a clear devotion.

REVIEW: Stories: A Tap Dance Sensation

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Percussive music and intense movements makes for a great evening

Stories – The Tap Dance Sensation, is a show by the acclaimed RB Dance Company. The show initially premiered back in 2019 in St. Witz France, before opening in Paris in 2020 and winning a slew of awards in 2022 at the Trophees de la Comedie Musicale ceremony. There have been over a hundred performances of this show in Paris, and it is now in London. It tells the story of a young actor starring in a film, while dealing with an oppressive director as the line between fact and fiction becomes increasingly blurred. The show also just so happens to contain some of the best dancers that France has to offer.

This show starts incredibly. The percussive music and intense movements of the dancers immediately grab your attention and bring you into this world. The opening song also builds incredibly well, heightening the intensity again and again. I was enthralled. The show also seems to know that this is an incredible number, as it also acts as the curtain call reprise, which I was thrilled about. All of the dancers were incredible, entirely synchronised when needed, and doing great character work as well as great dancing. I make no claims to be a technical expert on tap and jazz, but everything seemed to be marvelously well done with some truly impressive and breathtaking moments of talent. 

I was also a fan of the music in this show. Most songs had strong percussion, which matched with the tap dancing moments perfectly. Some of the spoken word lyrics worked really well and helped to set the tone of the piece, however some of the lyrics, especially in the titular song “Stories”, felt very on the nose for me in terms of cliche and it took me out of the show a bit. Overall though, I was a big fan of the music and if they release the soundtrack I will definitely be listening.

The story of this show almost felt a bit irrelevant at times. Some of my favourite moments in the show were the more scene setting sequences, rather than those that drive the narrative forward. It is a relatively simple plot with some surrealist aspects, which worked well in this medium. I did not find myself particularly connecting with any of the characters, and I was more focused on being impressed by the fantastic dancing happening in front of me.

The set itself is very clever with lots of different locations being created swiftly and smoothly, and the strobe and lighting effects were very well done, although the strobe was perhaps a little overused by the end.

In conclusion, I do not go and see many dance shows, but I was enchanted by this show. I highly recommend it to anyone, whether you be a seasoned dance fan or not. There is lots to enjoy for all and could act as an excellent gateway into seeing more dance performances in the future.

REVIEW: Lighten Our Darkness


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A sublime evening where the boundaries of light, darkness, and music dissolved into a timeless, sacred space.


The Renaissance Singers’ concert, Lighten Our Darkness, at St. Stephen’s Church was a powerful and moving experience. Before the choir even took to their places, there was a palpable stillness in the air, as though the church itself anticipated the beauty that was about to unfold. The setting could not have been more perfect for what is traditionally known as Compline, the final prayer of the day, offered at the transition between day and night. In this liminal space, music becomes a vessel for contemplation—a bridge between the temporal and the eternal.

Compline is a deeply meditative service, a way of surrendering the day’s worries and entering into restful peace. Its music is known for its simplicity and solemnity, evoking a sense of calm as it draws the listener into a timeless, spiritual space. It was as though the Renaissance Singers, under the careful guidance of their musical director David Allinson, became the voice of the evening itself, drawing us all into that sacred space.

David Allinson’s introduction was simple but profound, sharing a personal memory that deeply resonated with the audience. He spoke of his own youth, how he came from an industrial town and found himself in Oxford, full of doubt about his place there. One autumn night, much like this one, he wandered into Magdalene College Chapel at the hour of Compline, and it was the music that transformed him. 

I am often struck by the power of a choir—a collection of voices that come together not in individual pursuit but in communal harmony. Choral music lacks ego; it is pure, simple, and appeals to everyone regardless of background, creed, or age. The program was meticulously curated to reflect the title Lighten Our Darkness, and each piece was a poignant reminder of the interplay between light and shadow, hope and sorrow.

One of the highlights of the evening for me was Christopher Tye’s Ad Te Clamamus. This deeply moving piece encapsulates the raw emotion of the human experience: “To you we cry, the exiled sons of Eve.” The music itself is as plaintive as the text, using rich harmonies to evoke a sense of pleading and longing, which reflects Tye’s Renaissance sensitivity to the human condition. Tye’s ability to convey such a profound sense of yearning and exile speaks to his mastery of counterpoint, where voices echo and answer each other in intricate layers, creating a musical landscape that feels both intimate and expansive.

The second part of the concert invited the audience to join in the singing, transforming the experience from performance to participation. It felt as though we were being welcomed into the act of worship itself, blurring the lines between performer and listener. The choir began Compline from the back of the church, where their voices seemed to rise up from the very walls of the sanctuary. I could not see them—only the altar and a single candle flickering in the darkness. The effect was immersive, the sound enveloping the space as the choir slowly made their way down the aisle, their shadows dancing across the walls, creating an atmosphere that was both mystical and deeply peaceful. As they reached the front of the church and turned to face us, the semi-darkness in which we sat heightened the sense of the sacred. 

This was more than just a concert—it was a spiritual experience, a reminder of the quiet power that music has to move, to heal, and to connect. I encourage anyone to attend the Renaissance Singers’ upcoming performances; you’ll find yourself transported by the music and reminded of the beauty in simplicity. It was truly a special evening, one that lingers in the heart long after the last note has faded.

REVIEW: The Rest is History: Mozart and Beethoven with Live Orchestra


Rating: 5 out of 5.

The famous podcast’s debut at Royal Albert Hall prompts us to rethink two of the greatest composers in history


Well received by millions, The Rest Is History is a popular podcast that delves into fascinating historical events and figures with a lively, conversational approach. This time at the Royal Albert Hall, Tom Holland and Dominic Sandbrook explore the lives of two most famous composers throughout history: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Ludwig van Beethoven.

The two-hour experience is a full-flavoured blend of their life stories and “anecdotes”, insightful analysis, as well as humour. For instance, Tom and Dominic vividly illustrate Beethoven’s relation with Napoléon Bonaparte – admiring him at first and intending to dedicate his Symphony No. 3 to him as a champion of democracy and equality, only to feel betrayed by Napoléon’s self-coronation. He ferociously scratched out Napoleon’s name from the title page of the score. 

This incident actually highlights the influences of Enlightenment ideals on Beethoven, but Tom and Dominic wittily interweave the fact that Beethoven did compose The Battle Symphony dedicated to Arthur Wellesley to celebrate his victory over Napoleon in 1813, drawing loud, knowing laughter from the audience. 

Such a method of engaging storytelling seamlessly fuses with the live orchestra music performed by the Academy of St Martin in the Fields and the Philharmonia Chorus, conducted by Oliver Zeffman. The programme features a mix of the composers’ most iconic works, including Mozart’s Symphony No.25 and Requiem, and Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 and No. 9, as well as their lesser-known ones. For instance, Mozart’s Violin Sonata No. K304 is a delicate piece written shortly after his mother’s death. As Mozart’s music is often described as joyful, elegant and light, this composition exquisitely manoeuvres woe and melancholy interweaved within the notes. 

In Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony No. 6, you may astonishingly find that Beethoven incorporates several compositional techniques that Mozart mastered, such as the graceful and beautiful flowing themes featuring lyricism, and the prominent use of wind instruments for tone painting. 

The Rest is History: Mozart and Beethoven draws interesting parallels between the two, revealing that both composers are very contingent on their own times: the economic background, the war affairs, and the cultural development such as the Romantic movement and the Enlightenment.  While Mozart is celebrated as a Genius with the capital G, Beethoven elevates music as Art with the capital A. While Mozart basically functioned a servant to the aristocracy, Beethoven regarded them as clients – more his equals. These parallels not only show their different life circumstances, but also invite us to further reflect upon how our epistemologies of art and culture have been shaped and evolved.

In Conversation With Mark Elie

We sat down with Mark Elie, CEO & Artistic Director at the Mark Elie Dance Foundation and Founder of the Portobello Dance & Performing Arts School, who pioneered Classically British & Co.

On Thursday 24th October as part of Black History Month, Classically British & Co, part of the non-profit charity The Mark Elie Dance Foundation, celebrates its 21st anniversary with a special gala performance event and educational afternoon at Lilian Baylis Studio, Sadler’s Wells Theatre.  

1) Classically British & Co is celebrating 21 years of showcasing diverse talent. What inspired you to start this initiative, and how has its impact evolved over the past two decades?

“There was a lack of black and mixed-race representation of classically trained female and male dancers in the UK, and I felt this needed to be addressed. I was constantly being asked questions by my young students as to whether there are any black British ballerinas out there performing. I wanted to create an event reflecting this in the annual live agenda of dance that may represent this and to highlight the contributions and importance of black and mixed race classically trained dancers, choreographers and creative directors.

It’s fitting to showcase Classically British & Co during Black History season to spotlight the pioneers, the movers and trail blazers that help us to get to where we are today. Young people can see better representations of role models that they can identify with.”

2) You’ve spoken about the progress made in the UK dance sector regarding diversity. What do you see as the key challenges still facing dancers and choreographers of color, and how can the industry address these issues?

“The progress made in the UK has been immense but there is still a lot of work required. We now have such companies as Ballet Black and Carlos Acosta’s company who have done extremely well in influencing and inspiring a lot of people of colour with aspirations of going into the classical dance world. The challenges we are facing is to be able to choreograph ballets that are suitable for black and mixed raced ballet dancers based on the way they express themselves with both music and the aesthetic look of our bodies for the wider audiences. The industry can help by employing experienced people to offer this type of dance in the mainstream. Also ensure adequate funding and media attention is part of the norm rather than exotic or limited to Black History season.“

3) For this year’s gala, you’ve brought together an impressive lineup, including Namron OBE and Joy Sigaud. What can audiences expect from their pieces, and how do they reflect the themes of Black History Month?

“This year’s gala has brought together an impressive lineup of choreographers, musicians and composers, including Namron OBE and Joy Sigaud. Audiences can expect to be inspired, see narratives that relate specially to our community i.e the Windrush and the generations of immigrants to the UK of African and Caribbean backgrounds. They can expect a beautiful piece by Namron that has been choreographed to express the loss of his dear mother. Music by Ella Fitzgerald which of course is second to none. From Joy Sigaud we can expect to see a composition of classical and Afrocentric mix and collaboration with a young choreographer who was able to work with every single note of the music Joy has composed. The dancers have expressed choreographically how one can do that, working with the way we move and express ourselves with our classical training. People ask what does Classically British mean and my response is “it’s the experience that we have had being trained here in the UK classically and the ability to express through music and dance with our physical aesthetic and narrative. The audience can expect to see something truly inspiring.”

4) The educational afternoon with local schools offers a rare opportunity for students to engage with professional dancers. What do you hope young people take away from this experience, particularly in terms of representation in the arts?

“The matinee will consist of a dress rehearsal which will allow the young students to be able to see a few of the choreographed pieces which will be shown in the evening. They will be able to interact with the dancers in the form of a Q&A session and have discussions on how the production was put together. They will be able to speak not only to the dancers but also the artistic director, the production team and choreographers. In addition, they will be invited to come on stage and demonstrate their own talents. I am also hoping to understand what they have learnt and who they feel has inspired them the most. I hope the experience will be both inspirational and educational.”

5) Looking ahead, what are your future aspirations for Classically British & Co and the broader work of the Mark Elie Dance Foundation in shaping the next generation of dancers and choreographers?

“I would like to continue doing an annual production during the Black History season that is both educational and inspirational, providing a platform and shining a spotlight on the British black and mixed-race dancers here in the UK. I also hope we can replicate this format around the UK to inspire a wider audience. The next generation will hopefully be inspired by this generation of dancers and choreographers. We need to continue to attract young black choreographers and dancers that relate to the classically British experience which is “dance to inspire”. We are now living in an era of inclusivity with a new and diverse culture of dance in the UK. History has taught us when we work together the result is incredible for both participants and audiences alike. Everyone needs to be seen.

My future aspirations in addition to the above is to continue to showcase our talents across more of our brilliant opera houses and theatres, including the likes of Lilian Baylis, Sadler’s Wells Theatre, The Barbican and The Royal Ballet & Opera’s Linbury Theatre amongst others.”

REVIEW: John Robb – Do You Believe In Rock n Roll?


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

 Passion beyond post-punk


Edinburgh’s Voodoo Rooms on a cold dark October evening is a fitting venue for tonight’s event. In the darkened ballroom, under the enormous glitter ball, we were given a whirlwind journey through the history of John Robb – musician of post-punk band The Membranes and Goldblade, journalist, and ambassador for his home town of Blackpool among his many activities.   

The first part of the show – “Do You Believe In the Power of Rock n Roll?” took us through his formative years, backed up by a PowerPoint presentation. Not the most punk of platforms, but this was used sparingly and effectively, particularly displaying album covers. We raced through his childhood in Blackpool, his early love of the Monkees, musical talent emanating from Blackpool, the emergence of punk without knowing what it was or what it looked like, crafting outfits from Oxfam demob suits, and mohawks from soap and cochineal, to fanzines, awful but wonderful first gigs, through to interviewing Nirvana, CD:UK with East17 and Billie Piper, and preventing fights with Oasis. We ran out of time towards the end of this section, skipping ahead in slides, but it could easily have run for longer to hear the remainder of his stories.

The band recommendations come thick and fast throughout, and as you might expect, with impeccable taste – my playlists have been immeasurably improved (why wasn’t I listening to Cable before now?), as well as some nostalgia for music I heard my parents playing and talking about as I was growing up (the Stranglers were a feature on our car rides). It was wonderfully refreshing to hear John speak so passionately and with appreciation about multiple music genres – no snobbery, just a love of people who create good music and what drives them. The depth of his knowledge was evident, throwing out dates with a specificity that only comes from years of study, and the overall passion for innovation and creating what you enjoy, just shines through.

In the second half of the show, John was joined on stage for a Q&A with Paul Simpson (member of The Wild Swans, Care and The Teardrop Explodes). I wasn’t familiar with Paul prior to this event, and the chemistry between him and John was excellent – they’re clearly old friends as well as contemporaries. It was fascinating to see the interviewer side of John emerge, with probing and insightful questions, to wrap the evening up in a satisfying manner, and provided an appropriate mirror to the first half.

For those that weren’t familiar with the Wild Swans, a little bit more of an introduction would have been appreciated, but given the knowledgeable audience, this was by no means a deal-breaker, and the easy rapport between the two meant the conversation flowed easily. The questions were thoughtful, and deceptively probing. We covered topics such as Paul’s memoirs, the Liverpool music scene, his popularity in the Philippines, and a fantastic anecdote about a cardigan made famous by MTV.

I left the event with many things – a list of bands to listen to, John’s TedX talk to find (R is for Rock’n’roll) and books to read. This event was originally to be held in May, before being rescheduled to this weekend. In the interim, I’ve been racing through John’s book “The Art of Darkness: The History of Goth”, and it’s a magnificent 700 page opus, with expansive footnotes and evocative writing.  

However, above all, I left inspired – the spirit of innovation and just giving things a go feels like a lost concept in a world with overly curated and aesthetically pleasing social media. It feels like we can all take a lesson from the Oxfam-dressed and under-rehearsed punks of the past, and just let the creativity flow. With that, I believe in the power of rock ‘n’ roll – do you?  

REVIEW: Fever Dreams


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

“The Manchester Collective’s Fever concert was a captivating blend of bold programming, virtuosic performance, and rich emotional contrasts that left the audience spellbound.”


The Manchester Collective’s Fever concert was an arresting showcase of bold programming and virtuosity, weaving a tapestry of both familiar and avant-garde compositions. The ensemble, known for its innovative approach, delivered a night full of vibrant contrasts, each piece a landscape of emotion, technique, and sonic experimentation.

The evening began with Grażyna Bacewicz’s Concerto for String Orchestra, a 15-minute whirlwind that left the audience on edge, alive with the energy of a piece that seemed to morph through stages of raw pain and joy. The opening struck with intense power, setting a tone of tension, as angular rhythms and folk influences began to surface. The first section felt emotionally charged at times anxious, with the orchestra creating a dialogue so fragmented it seemed almost divided. Yet as the piece progressed, this sombre mood gave way to a more playful, almost fantastical section, like a fevered dream dissolving into a cheery, light-hearted fantasy. The virtuosic playing and jazz-like angularity made it a dynamic opener, one that balanced complex emotions with a rhythmic, folk-inspired vitality.

Next came the world premiere of Laurence Osborn’s Schiller’s Piano, co-comissioned by  Zubin Kanga and the Manchester Collective, an exploration of sound and texture that brought the audience into a bizarre, yet captivating, auditory realm. Osborn created a piece centred around the piano and MIDI keyboard, featuring manipulated recordings of physical piano components—wood, brass, felt, and wire. The work was inspired by the haunting story of a counterfeit piano, an empty shell made to preserve furniture from bombing, and Osborn translated this hollow existence into a vivid auditory experience. The result was dissonant, yet compelling, with layers of birdsong, rain, and familiar instruments fusing to create a disorienting soundscape. The piano emerged intermittently like a breath of fresh air amid brash, abrasive sounds, reminding us of its poetic power, while traditional instruments helped anchor the strangeness into something comprehensible. It was exhilarating, though perhaps slightly overextended, but it left a profound sense of the musicality embedded in even the most unexpected sounds.

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings followed, lending a heartwarming and romantic respite to the experimental edge of the previous works. The first and third movements were full of expansive and contracting musical phrases, as if portraying an internal struggle before resolving into a harmonious, glassy, and hopeful conclusion. Tchaikovsky’s signature emotional warmth enveloped the hall, offering a serene contrast to the frenetic energy of the earlier pieces. The work felt like a return to something deeply familiar, and it carried a welcoming, almost intimate charm.

Caroline Shaw’s Evergreen, the fourth piece, brought another organic, nature-inspired exploration to the evening. Shaw’s music flowed with airiness, lightness, and a tactile sense of green leaves fluttering in the wind. The sound seemed to capture how wind moves through the limbs of a tree, or how birds build their nests in high branches. The glistening string lines, airy arpeggios, and spiralling rhythms gave the impression of a delicate psalm, gradually gaining energy and momentum as the piece unfolded. Shaw’s music, a gift to a single tree, managed to feel both fragile and sacred, building layers of beauty with gentle freedom.

Finally, the concert closed with Wojciech Kilar’s Orawa, a piece that used rhythm as its central musical force. Kilar’s lyrical lines painted landscapes of mountains and rivers, with peaks and valleys emerging vividly through the undulating melodies. The dissonance within the piece mimicked nature’s rough edges, and the steady rhythmic pulse created a sense of both motion and stillness—like the act of climbing a mountain, only to jump and land at the summit with an exhilarating finality. The ending, with its sudden “jump and land,” brought a jolt of excitement, leaving the audience breathless.

Throughout the evening, the Manchester Collective proved once again why they are one of the most innovative ensembles on the scene today. Each piece in Fever offered something unexpected, whether it was the virtuosic dialogue in Bacewicz’s work, the dissonant adventure of Osborn’s Schiller’s Piano, or the lyrical expansiveness of Kilar’s Orawa. The Collective’s ability to balance the unexpected with the familiar made the entire performance a thrilling journey into soundscapes both new and beloved.

This concert was not merely a showcase of musical prowess—it was an adventure, an exploration of sound, rhythm, and texture that kept the audience engaged from start to finish. Once again, the Manchester Collective delivered an ingenious, inspiring program that felt fresh, bold, and deeply satisfying.

REVIEW: The Night Overtook Us


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“A lively, evocative exploration of winter in the Scottish Highlands, with a stunning new piece from composer Donald Grant.”


This weekend saw composer and violinist Donald Grant premiere a new work in London: Thuit an Oidhche Oirnn (The Night Overtook Us). The piece was performed by Grant and his band with the local Aurora Orchestra as part of a concert exploring the harshness and beauty of winter in the Scottish Highlands. With a varied yet cohesive programme, the evening was an exciting blend of traditional melodies with new writing and creative new arrangements.

The concert opened with a traditional tune from Grant’s hometown of Roybridge – “A Mhairead Óg,” and then under soft washes of light, the rest of the ensemble entered with modern composer David Fennessy’s Hirta Rounds. Inspired by Hirta, the largest of the islands in St. Kilda, this evocative and haunting piece had light, dancing notes fluttering over sustained, droning chords. The strings conversed in a sort of harmonic chaos reminiscent of sounds echoing down a glen, a chorus of birdsong, or rain pattering into a lake.

The next pieces saw the tempo pick up, as the band took centre stage for Calum Stewart’s Am Monadh Ruadh, evoking the mountains known as the Cairngorms today, and Donald Grant’s own piece To the West, inspired by his childhood camping holidays on the coastlines overlooking the Inner Hebrides. Grant’s arrangement of Am Monadh Ruadh was beautifully balanced, drawing on the combined power of the band and ensemble while still allowing each instrument their moments to shine. With swelling strings and some slightly jazzier stylings on the piano, this tune had the audience tapping their toes from the start, and To the West kept the energy up with a bluesy, bluegrass-esque jig, which drew out the rhythmic and tonal elements of traditional Scottish tunes which have shaped these more modern genres.

Next, Scottish folk singer Mischa MacPherson led the ensemble in “An Robh thu sa Bheinn,” a wool-waulking song; these work songs are usually led by the eldest woman in the group as a call-and-response chant to keep the group working the wool in time. Grant’s arrangement added a driving beat to the melody, resulting in a rock-and-roll energy enhanced by dynamic red lighting onstage. MacPherson then lent her talents to “Ailean Dubh,” a love song about an admittedly problematic raider who has captured a woman’s heart. With simpler piano and sustained strings, Grant’s setting allowed MacPherson’s dynamic and graceful vocals to shine. For Ailie Robertson’s string trio, The Black Pearl, some of the other musicians sat or stood around the back of the stage, lending an easy, communal atmosphere to this jazzy piece which added a more driving, suspenseful tone to the programme. La Bottine Souriante’s Prelude Valse was a catchy, swinging waltz, and a nod to the Scottish roots of traditional Québécois music.

Donald Grant’s new composition, Thuit an Oidhche Oirnn (The Night Overtook Us), was a true highlight of the evening. Grant drew some inspiration from winter’s elemental brutality, such as one 19th-century storm in Roybridge described by local John MacPhee, which hit like a flash in the middle of the day and wreaked havoc on the community. Alongside this intensity, Grant also wished to capture the culture of communities working together to bring light, warmth, and music into the longest nights, and chose to honour the siskin (a.k.a. pìobaire, or ‘piper’) as a symbol of this hope, as this bright yellow bird stays each winter in Scotland and can serve as a reminder of more colourful times to come. With delicate trills on the violin over a steady beat from the double bass, the piece eased into a waltz, with soaring strings and sunny melodies. A more haunting, traditional tune shifted the energy of the piece, as the rhythmic guitar started to conjure images of a rising storm, and Grant was able to show off some impressively quick fingers and dynamic phrasing on the violin as the piece built to an energetic finish with resounding applause.

MacPherson returned for another love song with “Dohmnull Nan Domhnull,” bringing a delicate warmth and tenderness to the melody, and the evening was brought to a jolly close with Grant’s The Way Home. This concert was a varied yet cohesive modern folk programme, and a brilliant exploration of the joy to be found in blending historic and modern tunes, tones, and stylings.

Thuit an Oidhche Oirnn (The Night Overtook Us) was performed on September 28th at Kings Place.

REVIEW: Light Stories


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A profound journey from chaos to order, where music transforms trauma into healing and light emerges from the darkness.


I always wonder how best to prepare for a show. Should I go in as a blank canvas, letting the experience wash over me? Or should I prime myself with research and form a premeditated opinion? For Light Stories by Matthew Barley, I chose the former. It may not be the orthodox way to approach a review, but I wanted to share how I felt the experience, rather than just how I understood it.

When Barley stepped onto the stage, there was a stillness that seemed to envelope the room. It wasn’t theatrical—it felt genuine, as if he and his cello had brought their own quiet calm with them. The simplicity of the setup—just him and his instrument—was unassuming, but the moment he began to play, I had this overwhelming sense that I was witnessing a creator weaving a world around himself. It reminded me of a phrase I’d learned in a course on Ancient Greek: en arche en ho logos, “in the beginning was the Word.” In ancient philosophy, logos represents the rational thought that organizes chaos into order. But here, it felt like Barley was using sound as his own logos—the music of his cello becoming the organizing force within his universe, turning stillness into creation.

The projected images on the screen behind him told a parallel story—a genesis of sorts. It was a visual journey through darkness, conflict, and loss, but also towards light and resolution. These visuals, crafted by the innovative team at Yeast Culture, were not just background—they were part of the storytelling, illustrating Barley’s search for meaning through music.

Later, I learned the deeper layers of Barley’s story. At 16, he experienced a psychotic episode during a drug overdose that led to a suicide attempt, a moment he kept buried for decades. Years later, during an Ayahuasca ceremony in Brazil, he relived that trauma. It was this experience that inspired him to finally seek help and eventually led to the creation of Light Stories. The performance was more than just a concert—it was a reflection of Barley’s journey from trauma to healing, where music became the thread that held him together. 

Barley’s unpretentious stage presence made the performance even more powerful. He wasn’t just playing the cello; he was in dialogue with it, responding to recorded sounds and improvisations as if engaging with his past self. The narrative moved from the confusion and danger of his adolescence to the healing and clarity he found through music, a testament to its redemptive power.

The performance was filled with pieces that felt carefully chosen to reflect Barley’s personal journey. Bach’s Ich ruf’ zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ brought a sense of calm and solace, while Barley’s original compositions, like Unravelling and The Unwaiting Sky, captured both the darkness and the eventual light in his story. It was as if Barley had taken the chaos of his past and woven it into something meaningful, creating a sense of order and purpose through music.

In the end, Light Stories was not just about Barley’s personal voyage. It felt like an invitation for the audience to reflect on their own journeys, to find connection and healing through the shared experience of sound and sight. The seamless blend of music, imagery, and emotion made it a profound and unforgettable performance, one that lingered in my mind long after the final note had been played.

REVIEW: A Celebration of Dvořák


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A spectacular season opener that spotlighted the wondrous works of Czech composer Antonín Dvořák.


Inside the gleaming hall of Glasgow’s Scottish Music Centre, adorned with gorgeous chandeliers and rich architecture, the Scottish Chamber Orchestra could be heard tuning up to perform their 24/25 season opener ‘The Celebration of Dvořák’, conducted by Maxim Emelyanychev.

Introduced by principal cellist Phillip Higham, the orchestra opens the night with their stunning rendition of Carnival Overture. A bursting crescendo captures your attention with full force starting the night on a rapturous high before progressing to softer, more ethereal harmonies that gently lull you back down. The beauty of this piece is how each section flowed seamlessly into the next, in fact the same could be said for all three of Dvořák works played that night.

Classical wouldn’t be a genre you would find on my Spotify wrapped (with the exception of exam season) however this introduction to live classical music set the bar high. It’s no secret that classical music, particularly live performances, are often considered intimidating. The breadth of knowledge and education required to fully understand this genre is what has often held many back from engaging with it however I found myself fully enthralled in the two hour performance. That’s the beauty of it all, such depth of emotion is communicated without words which prompts you look further and engage with the music itself.

After resounding applause, Steven Isserlis takes the stage to perform Cello Concerto in B minor. By contrast, this piece felt more raw and full-bodied that unravelled a new layer and you couldn’t help but be swept up by it all. Isserlis delivered a radiant performance, the technicality and passion translated a whole range of emotions which is what made this, in my opinion, the best performance of the night. Before a brief interval, Isserlis returned to the stage to perform a small, quite humorous solo.

The acoustics of the venue were noteworthy- carrying the sound so beautifully throughout the hall. You were fully immersed in the experience. The final piece was Symphony No. 8, written to reflect on the celebrations of life and the musicians’ wonder of nature, even without understanding its history it brought you a sense of joy and enthusiasm for life. A thunderous conclusion to the symphony made for an unforgettable finale to the night.

Overall, the performance was truly breathtaking with each section being more intense and moving than the last. The Scottish Chamber Orchestra delivered a captivating performance, showcasing immense dedication to their craft. If last night was anything to go by then the works of Dvořák may make an appearance in this year’s Spotify wrapped.