Tag Archives: Shirley Tetteh

MARIE AND ROSETTA

★★★★★

Rose Theatre

MARIE AND ROSETTA

Rose Theatre

★★★★★

“soul-stirring, celebratory and foot-tappingly uplifting”

It is sometimes extraordinary how a figure can fade into the back pages of history. Sister Rosetta Tharpe was a huge star in the 1930s and 40s, who struck a chord with a white electric guitar slung around her neck, that helped change the face of modern popular music. Yet somehow the gospel superstar ended up forgotten within her lifetime. George Brant’s impressive yet intimate portrayal will surely redress that injustice. Avoiding the epic, Brant focuses on a particular part of her life – her partnership with Gospel and R&B singer Marie Knight – and celebrates the legacy in a glorious play with music. It is a remarkable achievement in that, by pinpointing a moment in time, he still manages to give a concise and precise insight into the culture, history and background that shaped the characters. And then, of course, there is the music!

Set in a funeral parlour, a coffin laid out beneath a large wooden crucifix upstage, we are in Mississippi in 1946. “There’s rules” explains ‘Sister’ Rosetta (Beverley Knight) as she prepares her protégé and singing partner Marie Knight (Ntombizodwa Ndlovu) for their tour of the segregated Southern States (the unusual setting was the only venue that allowed the pair to rehearse). It starts out as a kind of audition for Marie, but her vocal style rapidly wins over the already established Rosetta. What ensues is the rehearsal which this show encompasses. The musical numbers slot beautifully and organically into the dialogue, sometimes stopping and starting again. The show is a conversation, a confession; a heart-to-heart that slickly builds up in momentum and passion. Like a musical ‘soul stew’ – a device coined by the late bandleader King Curtis in which a song will introduce one instrument at a time over a cycle of twelve bars until the full force bubbles into waves of musical bliss. Writer George Brant has followed a similar recipe, introducing rich details and pinches of backstory at crucial points into the dialogue. Knight and Ndlovu give faultless performances with their easy onstage rapport. When they launch into song, however, the production soars – whether the whole band accompanies, or if it is just the bluesy riffs of Liam Godwin’s piano or musical director Shirley Tetteh on guitar.

Rosetta Tharpe was renowned for her guitar playing. Decades ahead of her time she became known as the ‘Godmother of Rock and Roll’ whose influence touched countless stars including Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Little Richard. Marie was a formidable piano player as well as a singer. Neither Knight nor Ndlovu play the instruments, but director Monique Touko gets around this with clever stage craft. Ndlovu doesn’t mime but uses her whole body to evoke the inbuilt rhythm and soul of a pianist, while Knight opens a guitar case to let the notes fly out into the air. Through the staging, we get a full sense of the real-life character’s influence as she changed the face of music back in the forties, leading gospel into the world of rhythm and blues and soul. Shunned by the straitlaced church for performing in nightclubs, she persuades the ingénue Marie to follow suit. Her mission was to “put a bit of club into the church, and some church into the club” as she swung between chapel in the morning and New York’s Cotton Club at night.

The writing avoids preaching. The natural dialogue touches on personal tragedy and adversity but is steeped in humour too. Rosetta’s chipping away at Marie’s saintly exterior offers moments of biting comedy as she shapes the latter’s high church voice into the smoky jazz vibe needed for their subversive success. The song list is plucked from Rosetta’s impressive repertoire, and the combination of Knight’s and Ndlovu’s voices is gold dust that rises to the rafters. ‘This Train’, the rocking ‘Rock Me’, ‘Sit Down’, ‘I Want a Tall Skinny Papa’, ‘Strange Things are Happening Everyday’ are highlights among highlights, the glory of which is shared by the two singers. There is no competition (as in the reality), but it is a union borne of generosity and joy – and this love of the music is all too clear in the harmonies.

The poignancy of the setting (designer Lily Arnold’s shrine like funeral parlour) is emphasised in the twilight moments of the show. We slip forward in time in an ingeniously surreal twist in the narrative that derails our cosy expectations and plunges us into a moving epilogue, the emotion matched by haunting a Capella vocals. “Marie and Rosetta” is soul-stirring, celebratory and foot-tappingly uplifting. When asked about her music and its influence, Rosetta Tharpe is reported to have replied “Oh, these kids and rock and roll – this is just sped up rhythm and blues. I’ve been doing that forever”. I’m sure this show will enjoy the same longevity.



MARIE AND ROSETTA

Rose Theatre

Reviewed on 9th May 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

 

 


 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

ANIMAL FARM | ★★★ | February 2025
NEVER LET ME GO | ★★★ | September 2024
SHOOTING HEDDA GABLER | ★★★★ | October 2023

 

 

MARIE AND ROSETTA

MARIE AND ROSETTA

MARIE AND ROSETTA

The Tempest

The Tempest

★★★★

Shakespeare’s Globe

The Tempest

The Tempest

Shakespeare’s Globe

Reviewed – 29th July 2022

★★★★

 

“we’re perfectly happy to sit a little longer, marvelling at the all-sorts gathered on stage”

 

The Tempest is so easily, and so often, staged as a play of a single lead character, the mighty Prospero, with a generous sprinkling of small parts dallying around him. But in Sean Holmes’ production, there are no small parts. Each character finds their allies and enemies on stage, and each is the centre of their own story. Perhaps this is due to artistic director Michelle Terry’s idea of a Globe Ensemble: these actors have been working together for what should be a year, but owing to the pandemic is likely closer to two. And the confidences and friendships which have developed give this production a glorious esprit de corps: Whilst Ferdy Roberts has the most lines, he’s just one in a big family.

That being said, Roberts is fabulous as self-important Prospero. De-robing in the first thirty seconds to reveal a very small pair of yellow swimming briefs, he manifests both Prospero’s wild amount of self-confidence and his innate ridiculousness; perhaps he’s unable to laugh at himself, but we have plenty to laugh at.

Having been betrayed by his brother years ago and sent out to sea with his young daughter to near-certain death, Prospero discovers that his brother is now sailing in a wedding party past the desert island he now inhabits. He sends his servant-spirit Ariel to cause a storm and shipwreck the party, scattering them across the island, ripe for vengeful antics.

Whilst Prospero is often described as a sorcerer, under Holmes’ direction, the only magic he appears to have performed is making Ariel feel indebted to him. So, any time he requires magic to be done, there she appears, with a flick of the wrist. Rachel Hannah Clarke is cheeky but resolute as Ariel, enjoying her tasks of playful manipulation, whilst also holding a solemn gaze with Prospero in talks of her freedom.

It’s this balance of playfulness and gravity that dictates the play’s atmosphere. Yes, the stage is filled with swimming inflatables- a lobster, a flamingo- and it feels completely apt that characters should be bewitched to behave like dogs and think they’re Harry Potter, but there is also much loss and betrayal which is somehow still strikingly felt amidst all the hijinks.

Whilst planes overhead often feature ad-libitum at the Globe, Ralph Davis’ perfectly timed screech for help as a plane passes by, is brilliant. In fact, he has quite a few bold moments of ad-libbing (“O, touch me not; I am not Stephano…I’m the boy who lived.”) which feels especially transgressive in a Shakespeare play but works wonderfully.

Ciarán O’Brien’s Caliban, traditionally played as grotesque and feral, is here a stroppy, sheltered teenager, which feels much less problematic and leaves plenty of space for us to think he might very well earn his freedom after the play is done.

By far my favourite moment is the celebratory dance performed by gods and spirits on Prospero’s request as a gift to his daughter Miranda and her betrothed Ferdinand. Maybe ten or fifteen appear, wearing floral-patchworked white jumpsuits, flower crowns and rose-tinted glasses, clutching palm fronds. At first the dance is flat-out bizarre, and soon it becomes overtly sexual as the ‘gods’ hump the air, moving closer and closer to the couple, eventually resulting in what appears to be a group orgasm, much to Prospero’s horror.

Like many of Shakespeare’s comedies, it takes a little too long to wrap up, insisting on accounting for every single character, one after the other. But so much good will has been won by then that we’re perfectly happy to sit a little longer, marvelling at the all-sorts gathered on stage, or gazing up past the Globe’s thatched roof to the clear summer sky.

 

Reviewed by Miriam Sallon

Photography by Marc Brenner

 


The Tempest

Shakespeare’s Globe until 22nd October

 

Recent shows reviewed by Miriam:

Witness For The Prosecution | ★★★★★ | London County Hall | April 2022
100 Paintings | ★★ | Hope Theatre | May 2022
La Bohème | ★★★½ | King’s Head Theatre | May 2022
Y’Mam | ★★★★ | Soho Theatre | May 2022
The Fellowship | ★★★ | Hampstead Theatre | June 2022
I Can’t Hear You | ★★★★ | Theatre503 | July 2022
The Hive | ★★★ | Hoxton Hall | July 2022
Hungry | ★★★★★ | Soho Theatre | July 2022
Oh Mother | ★★★★ | Soho Theatre | July 2022
An Intervention | ★★★½ | Greenwich Theatre | July 2022

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews