Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

STREET SONGS: A BUSKER’S TALE

★★★★

Golden Goose Theatre

STREET SONGS: A BUSKER’S TALE at the Golden Goose Theatre

★★★★

“a heart-warming show that gives many classic but over-played songs brilliant new meaning”

Buskers have been performing in public spaces since public spaces were invented. They are the backdrop to society. Too often taken for granted and now highly organised, most of the population pass them by – happy to snatch the fragment of music they hear to take home, without taking the time to appreciate the anonymous figures that colour their daily commute. “Street Songs – A Busker’s Tale” opens up that world in writer Brett Snelgrove’s and director Lawrence Carmichael’s bittersweet drama-comedy about two street musicians.

It is a canny collaboration that unites the gritty reminiscences of Carmichael’s busking days with the raw emotion of Snelgrove’s father’s battle with cancer. Two subject matters that seem far apart yet somehow work together seamlessly. Full of contrast, it is a simultaneously contemporary yet with the feel of a period piece. Ollie West is Jamie – the archetypal busker of three decades ago. His song list is even older than that – after all he is playing his late father’s (also a busker in his own time) set list. Songs for a rainy day, songs for summer; for the morning rush hour or for the lunch break. There is a description of how the timeless and alternative craft of busking has become homogenised on London’s Underground network since its legalisation; having to audition for a licence. West’s beautifully humorous and self-deprecating monologue illustrates the bizarre incongruity of ill-placed authoritative figures trying to layer control on an activity that is as old and free as the hills. Following his failed audition, Jamie is pushed out from the tunnels, and surfaces overground to where ‘The Streets Have No Name’.

Anonymously and largely ignored, he plies his trade. While he sings, behind him a girl sets up her improvised drum kit: a decaying collection of upturned bins, bottle crates, pans, bottles and saucepans. With brushes and sticks, Joy Wright – as bucket drummer Charlie – strikes the rhythm of the piece with understated timing, pounding away to get to our hero’s heart. But not without initial conflict as a turf war flares, then simmers down into philosophical debate. ‘Who are you here for?’ she asks. Because the public don’t care, and they can smell Jamie’s diffidence with feral savagery. ‘If you’re not here for them – they know it!’

The pair eventually form a double-act and are invited to play a corporate gig in an art gallery which chills them like fingernails on a chalkboard. So, it’s back to the streets; treading the same ground but now with a different perspective. Their relationship with the music has changed, and Snelgrove’s writing, and the actors’ performances, reach a new level of emotion. Charlie opens up with an honesty and authenticity that is candidly moving, while Jamie begins to accept that life doesn’t need to grind to a halt.

This isn’t just a busker’s tale. It is, at heart, a story about grief, a story about learning to drift from solo to duo. Carmichael’s stripped back staging is quite ramshackle, but it mirrors the bric-a-brac that these misfits stash away in their minds. Wright is utterly convincing as Charlie; streetwise and abrasively rough around the edges, yet one whose combative shell conceals a vulnerable and generous heart. West, as Jamie, masterfully navigates the helter-skelter of emotions spinning from Snelgrove’s text. The singing may not be top notch, but it reflects the tone of the piece perfectly. And the poignancy frequently gives way to moments of humour. A German rendition of ‘Mad World’ is hilarious, while ‘Sound of Silence’ thunders along in a punk/rockabilly mash-up. The comedy and the pathos form a wonderful and extraordinary alliance, personified by Rag ‘n’ Bone Man’s ‘Human’ that forms a leitmotif, winkingly reminding us of our failings.

Evocative and personal, this busker’s tale winds its way from the underground to the streets, up to the gallery – and into a world that doesn’t care. Written with integrity and respect for its subject matter and characters we, however, cannot fail to care. That it is based on, and dedicated to, Snelgrove’s own father adds candour. Damien Rice’s ‘Older Chest’ is sung by West with a sadness that belies his acknowledgement that grief can be controlled after all. The character’s memories are still the same, but they now take on a different flavour – like reinterpreting a song. As we reach the finale, Jamie turns to James Blunt’s ‘Monsters’ – a love song to a dying father. ‘It’s my turn to chase the monsters away’. We may be listening to Blunt’s lyrics, but it is West’s natural and unsentimental portrayal that gives the words their real depth. “Street Songs – A Busker’s Tale” is a heart-warming show that gives many classic but over-played songs brilliant new meaning


STREET SONGS: A BUSKER’S TALE at the Golden Goose Theatre

Reviewed on 17th April 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Larissa Pinkham

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

STRANGERS IN BETWEEN | ★★★★ | September 2023
WHAT I REALLY THINK OF MY HUSBAND | ★★★ | November 2023

STREET SONGS: A BUSKER’S TALE

STREET SONGS: A BUSKER’S TALE

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

 

ARTIFICIALLY YOURS

★★★

Riverside Studios

ARTIFICIALLY YOURS at Riverside Studios

★★★

“We want to dig deeper into the shadows, but the writing is reluctant to explore far enough to flesh out the ideas that are bubbling underneath”

As I came out of the premiere of Aaron Thakar’s debut play, “Artificially Yours” I played a game with my smart phone. I don’t use Siri, which probably puts me in the minority of the population, but I decided to ask it some questions. Whilst it was able to give me factual details (my next appointment or my partner’s phone number for example), when it was asked something more abstract that required an emotional reaction, it merely answered with the words ‘that’s an interesting question’.

Thakar takes this notion a step further with his one-act play and, in turn, asks some interesting questions. It centres around an advanced AI device, called Agapé, that is not just a personal assistant but also one that can act as a relationship therapist to its bickering owners. Under Hannah McLeod’s slick direction, the narrative follows the effects this has on three different – though connected – couples as they navigate the usual hurdles that interrupt the smooth run of their affairs. Billed as a ‘dark comedy’ it yields some rich comic moments but never really explores the darkness. Agapé is given a bit of an underwritten supporting role here, and the piece often feels like just another sitcom. A perceptive one, nevertheless, which grapples with issues beyond AI’s limited capabilities of which the young writer has a mature grasp.

Agapé’s most accomplished skill is that of distinguishing a lie from a truth, and as such is more judgemental than its human counterpart therapist. But still the three couples decide to choose what they only want to hear. First up we have Pippa and Martin (Leslie Ash and Paul Giddings). Recently divorced, Martin is trying to get Pippa to agree to him introducing their daughter to his new girlfriend. Meanwhile Lilah and Ash (Destiny Mayers and writer Thakar himself) sport matching pyjamas but a clashing reliance on their artificial counsellor. Further clashes ensue when they go on a double dinner date with Ellie and Noah (Ella Jarvis and Jake Mavis). The connections between the six individuals are gradually revealed through disagreements, quarrels and occasional reconciliations: but no real resolve.

The cast spar well together, and while Thakar’s writing is thoughtful, we do often forget that Agapé is in the room as the characters’ idiosyncrasies take centre stage. Destiny Mayers is convincing as the frustrated Lilah who silently laments her partner’s reliance on artificial communication. As jobbing actor Ash, Thakar has the strongest arc which culminates in the play’s only distinct self-reformation. Leslie Ash’s Pippa makes the most of her underwritten mother-of-two. Ash excels, however, in depicting her internal tug-of-war between affection and disdain for her ex – equally convincingly illustrated by Paul Giddings’ Martin, wrapped up in his over-padded mid-life crisis. Ella Jarvis’ unhinged, overwrought Ellie and Jake Mavis’ maddening, fitness-fanatic Noah dish out the lion’s share of the laughs. Bordering on farce, the cast collectively manage to avoid artificiality.

Yet the serious questions, and the darkness that is teasingly dangled in front of us never really materialises. We want to dig deeper into the shadows, but the writing is reluctant to explore far enough to flesh out the ideas that are bubbling underneath. Yet we must remember (and just in case we don’t, we were reminded at curtain call) that this is Thakar’s debut as a writer and an actor. Depending on which way you look at this it can either be an excuse or a celebration. I lean towards the latter. In its own way it is quite an achievement. “Artificially Yours” might not yet be his hallmark, but Thakar has made his mark and, in time, is someone to watch out for.

 


ARTIFICIALLY YOURS at Riverside Studios

Reviewed on 11th April 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Andrew Fosker

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

ALAN TURING – A MUSICAL BIOGRAPHY | ★★ | January 2024
ULSTER AMERICAN | ★★★★★ | December 2023
OTHELLO | ★★★★ | October 2023
FLOWERS FOR MRS HARRIS | ★★★★ | October 2023
RUN TO THE NUNS – THE MUSICAL | ★★★★ | July 2023
THE SUN WILL RISE | ★★★ | July 2023
TARANTINO LIVE: FOX FORCE FIVE & THE TYRANNY OF EVIL MEN | ★★★★★ | June 2023
KILLING THE CAT | ★★ | March 2023
CIRQUE BERSERK! | ★★★★★ | February 2023
DAVID COPPERFIELD | ★★★ | February 2023

ARTIFICIALLY YOURS

ARTIFICIALLY YOURS

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page