Tag Archives: Larissa Pinkham

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

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The Break-up Autopsy – 4 Stars

The Break-up Autopsy

The Break-up Autopsy

Etcetera Theatre

Reviewed – 30th October 2018

★★★★

“delivered on its promise of an hour of black comedy”

 

The Break-up Autopsy opens slap bang in the middle of a very messy situation. Dee (Larissa Pinkham), is sat by a window throwing book after book out onto the street. One of her legs is dangling over the frame, marinara has spilt across the front of her dress and she is howling as if her life depended on it. Steven Jeram’s character Alex stands by helplessly, shirt adorned with the same red stains, while Yasmin (Anna Christian) and Jake (Hraban Luyat), look in from the outside.

The play dissects the relationship of Dee and Alex. From meet-cute to present day, Alex’s step-sister Yasmin and Dee’s best-friend Jake force the couple to confront their dysfunctional history and show them the many times they could have broken up in a less dramatic fashion. However, how the characters related to each other is a point which was not clear to me until we were already half-way through. I thought the scene was set beautifully and I very quickly picked up on the personalities of all involved, I particularly enjoyed Anna Christian’s portrayal of motherly exasperation and the way Steven Jeram wove Alex’s dangerously manipulative nice guy net, but I ached for a bit of background information. For a long time, I had the four down as being old friends from school or university.

A little more about the characters would have also made for an easier ending. Which, without wanting to give anything away, felt like a struggle to tie everyone into the relationship. A valiant effort, but too late to give it a lasting impact.

The Break-Up Autopsy delivered on its promise of an hour of black comedy. I commend it more, however, for the sharp changes from one scene unfolding to a documentary style play-by-play of the couples’ best moves; a feat which could not have been pulled off without the cast’s impeccable timing and quick shifts of energy in their performance.

The production was a definite mood changer, worthy of every laugh and the applause it received.

 

Reviewed by Alexandra Wilbraham

 


The Break-up Autopsy

Etcetera Theatre until 4th November

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Find Your way Home | ★★★★ | February 2018
A Woman’s World / Monster of State | ★★½ | April 2018
Hello Georgie, Goodbye Best | ★★ | April 2018
Ophelia | ★★★ | May 2018
Saphira | ★★½ | May 2018
Keep Calm I’m Only Diabetic | ★★★ | June 2018
To the Moon… and Back… and Back… | ★★★ | August 2018
Too Young to Stay in | ★★★ | August 2018
Your Molotov Kisses | ★★★★ | August 2018
Bully | ★★★★ | September 2018
Little by Little | ★★ | September 2018

 

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