I guess neither of us quite got our heads around The Chairs. You need to be in the mood for Ionesco and perhaps we weren’t.
This version was Martin Crimp’s adaptation and Simon McBurney/Théâtre de Complicité’s production, so weirdness was probably very much the order of the evening. Richard Briers and Geraldine McEwan led the cast. Here is the Theatricalia entry for the production.
“What did the papers say about it?” I hear you cry.
Charles Spencer in The Telegraph liked it, while denying that we should read too much into the piece – darned right!
Similarly Suzannah Clapp in The Observer, whose review reminds me that the critics main reservation about this play is that they didn’t like it as much as they liked Elyot’s (also wonderful) My Night With Reg.
We went to the Questor’s with The Duchess (Janie’s mum) that night. Unusually, there is no mention of a meal in a restaurant afterwards, but Janie’s diary has lots of notes about her mum going off to Tunisia on holiday the next day, so my guess is that we agreed to just go to the theatre and separately had light suppers at the respective homes afterwards.
As for the play/production, I noted that this was a:
…very good Questor’s production
Janie and I are especially partial to Tennessee Williams – it is a credit to this production that we liked it, as we sense that Williams is not easy to produce well. The Rose Tattoo is not Williams best/easiest play either.
It is inappropriate to compare the two – Zoe Wannamaker played the lead at The National. Suffice it to say that I remember both productions well and fondly.
I remember being very dissatisfied with this one when I wrote it. Mike Ward from the Actor’s Workshop had suggested the idea to me, which was a good one. But it came out, in my opinion, very tired, bitchy and unfunny. It is the last NewsRevue lyric in my log and I suspect that it was the writing of this one that convinced me that I was out of ideas and needed to retire from NewsRevue lyric writing, at least temporarily, although it proved to be a permanent retirement.
There is irony in the fact that I used the tune That Is the End Of the News for the lyric that, in effect, marked the end of NewsRevue for me.
THAT’S WHAT WE CALL NEWS REVUE (To the Tune of “That is the End of the News”)
INTRO 1
We are told, very loudly and often to lift up our hearts; We are told, that good humour might soften life’s cruel old farts. So however bad economic troubles might be, We just lampoon our leaders and sing with glee.
VERSE 1
Heigh-ho, Blair’s mob are pains again, New bye elections might see Tory gains again; Word is Hague’s gay as he, like Peter Lilley, Prefers his to hers when it comes to his willy.
VERSE 2
We’re so glad Harriet Harman, Is screwing lone parents at rates so alarming; We’ve now learned New Labour has more cuts than sabres, As heartless as those Tory Blues.
MIDDLE EIGHT 1
We’re delighted, To be able to say, Gordon Brown is not gay, He’s depressed; We’re excited, Now the pounds out of range, Of the Euro, It’s all for the best.
OUTRO 1
Three cheers, Jack Straw’s been trusted, With stamping out drugs although his son’s been busted; While Mandelson’s heaven is Brighton, not Devon, And that’s what we call News Revue.
INTRO 2
We are told ghastly jokes in the City when drinking in bars, We are told that it’s charming and witty to mimic the stars; So when fortune gives them a cup of hemlock to quaff, We perform songs and sketches and laugh laugh laugh.
VERSE 3
Heigh-ho, Prodigy’s fearful, We wish that Oasis were slightly more cheerful; With Spice Girls these days getting booed off the stage, it, Appears Pulp themselves need some help, they’re so aged;
VERSE 4
Now don’t laugh at poor Mrs Merton, But nor do her viewers, that’s her final curtain; The lovers of draggage, prefer Lily Savage, It must be her splendid hair-dos.
MIDDLE EIGHT 2
Winning days, see, Greg Rosetsky win games, He’s as English as mounties and moose; Football’s crazy, Gazza beats up his dames, But he’s gentle compared with “The Juice”.
OUTRO 2
What fun, Paula Yates’ tippled, They say Posh Spice has a new ring through her nipple; Now she’s got seven, While Mel has eleven, And that’s what we call News Revue, Yes that’s what we call News Revue.
Below is a video of Joyce Grenfell singing That Is the End Of The News – I cannot find Noel Coward’s original on the web:
Jack Cunningham cried “dem beef bones”, Jack Cunningham cried “dem beef bones”, Jack Cunningham cried “dem beef bones”, Now hear the word of “The Doc”.
Jack Cunningham banned all of dem beef bones, Jack Cunningham banned all of dem beef bones, Jack Cunningham banned all of dem beef bones, Now hear the word of the law.
VERSE 1
The tail bone’s connected to the back bone, The back bone’s connected to the head bone, The head bone’s connected to the prion, The prion’s connected to the BSE, The BSE’s connected to the CJD, The CJD’s connected to the export ban, The export ban’s connected to the Euro man, The Euro man’s connected to the bureaucrat, The bureaucrat’s connected to the science rat, The science rat’s injected with the beef bone,
So here’s the cause of the ban.
OUTRO
Dem bans, dem bans, beef bone bans, Dem bans, dem bans, beef bone bans, Dem bans, dem bans, beef bone bans, So here’s a true loony law.
Disobey dem bans, beef bone bans, Disobey dem bans, beef bone bans, Disobey dem bans, beef bone bans, And stuff the word of the law, Stuff the word of the law.
Below are the Delta Rhythm Boys singing Dry Bones:
Andy Coleman / Dan Clark
News Revue
11 January 1998
Dear Andy/Dan
I enclose my new/unused material together with a tape of the sounds.
If you want any of my “archive material” rewritten or some tweaks to the enclosed songs, let me know. Also, if there are any subjects which you feel desperately need a song – give us a call.
Good luck and I look forward to seeing you soon.
Ian
Song Title
Original Title/
Artist Approx.. No. of weeks performed at Canal Cafe
7+ 4-6 1-3 New
geoffrey robinson
mrs robinson / simon and garfunkle N
that’s what we call news revue that is the end of the news / (noel coward) performers unknown N
beef bones dry bones / fred waring and the pennsylvanians N
gaudy dames
gaudete / medaeival baebes N
spin talk wizard
pinball wizard / who N
Geoffrey Robinson was the Paymaster General in Tony Blair’s first government. He lost that job in late 1998 over the Peter Mandelson home loan scandal covered by version two of the lyric below.
Coincidentally, that Mandelson home was a few blocks away from my flat; I still go past it on my way to the health club and for some time back then Mandelson himself was to be seen there.
GEOFFREY ROBINSON (To the Tune of “Mrs Robinson”)
CHORUS 1 So here’s to you, Geoffrey Robinson, Tony loves you more than you will know (wo, wo, wo); What’s that you say, Geoffrey Robinson? Havens hold a place for those who pay (hey, hey, hey, hey hey hey).
VERSE 1 We’d like to know a little bit about you for our files, We’re glad that you have learned to help yourself; Look around and you will see unsympathetic eyes, In the treasury, where you feel so at home.
CHORUS 2 What’s in your past, Geoffrey Robinson? Madam Bourgeois loved you as we know (ho, ho, ho); Down on your knees, Geoffrey Robinson, God knows what you’ve licked to earn your pay (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).
VERSE 2 Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes, Stuck away in Guernsey in your trust funds; It’s a little secret, just the Robinson’s affair, Most of all you’ve got to hide it from the press
CHORUS 3 Coo coo catchoo, Geoffrey Robinson, Money sticks to you as we all know (wo, wo, wo); Rolling in cash, Geoffrey Robinson, Vested offshore in a tax free way (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).
VERSE 3 Sitting in your mansion on a Sunday afternoon, Going to the conference debate; Laugh about it, shout about it, when loop holes are lax, Only little people need pay tax.
OUTRO You’re not quite like John deLorean, At least he built a factory or two (woo, woo, woo); We’ve news for you, Geoffrey Robinson, Gordon Brown has ways to make you pay (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).
I also wrote an update of this one 22 December 1998:
GEOFFREY ROBINSON VERSION 2 (To the Tune of “Mrs Robinson”)
CHORUS 1 So here’s to you, Geoffrey Robinson, Tony loves you more than you will know (wo, wo, wo); What’s that you say, Geoffrey Robinson? Havens hold a place for those who pay (hey, hey, hey, hey hey hey).
VERSE 1 We’d like to know a little bit about you for our files, We’re glad that you have learned to help yourself; Look around and you will see unsympathetic eyes, In the treasury, where you feel so at home.
CHORUS 2 What’s in your past, Geoffrey Robinson? Madam Bourgeois loved you as we know (ho, ho, ho); Down on your knees, Geoffrey Robinson, God knows what you’ve licked to earn your pay (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).
VERSE 2 Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes, Stuck away in Guernsey in your trust funds; It’s a little secret, just the Robinson’s affair, Most of all you’ve got to hide it from the press
CHORUS 3 Coo coo catchoo, Geoffrey Robinson, Money sticks to you as we all know (wo, wo, wo); Rolling in cash, Geoffrey Robinson, Vested offshore in a tax free way (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).
VERSE 3 Sitting in your mansion on a Sunday afternoon, Going to the conference debate; Laugh about it, shout about it, when loop holes are lax, Only little people need pay tax.
OUTRO Who’s your fat friend, Peter Mandelson? Geoffrey bought a lovely house for you (woo, woo, woo); It’s just on loan, Peter Mandelson, Geoffrey will find ways to make you pay (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey).
Mediæval Bæbes was a bit of a thing back then. Janie and I were just starting to take a real interest in early music around that time. I bought their debut album, Salva Nos.
But there was something about this commercialised form of mediæval music that bothered me, so I gave The Bæbes the NewsRevue lyric treatment.
GAUDY DAMES (To the Tune of “Gaudete”)
CHORUS 1
Gaudy dames, gaudy dames some sing soprano, We are named Medieval Baebes, gaudy dames; Gaudy dames, gaudy dames, some sing contralto, Sensuous poses, low cut drapes, gaudy dames.
VERSE 1
We’re a bunch of choir girls who have shot to stardom; We’re as pure and virginal as a Turkish harem.
CHORUS 2
Blowsy dames, blowsy dames, who sing in plain chant, We’re like Spice Girls minus spice, blowsy dames; Cows may say, cows may say that we’ve had implants, Torture post-medieval ways, cows may say.
VERSE 2
All of us are Virgin girls signed to Branson’s kingdom; Hope he makes his duff balloons elsewhere than his condoms.
CHORUS 3
Lousy pay, lousy pay now we are pop stars, We’re still paid medieval rates, lousy pay; God may say, God may say we sing like angels, But its hell to hear us rant, God may say.
VERSE 3
We can all be photographed so we look like lovelies; Tho’ without a special lens look like teletubbies.
OUTRO
Cow like shapes, cow like shapes, not that you’d notice, Clever angled camera takes, cow like shapes; Gawd the strain, gawd the strain stuck in this corset, Thumb screws would seem like a break, gawd the strain.
Below is a version of Gaudete performed by the Choir of Clare College Cambridge:
We weren’t expecting to see a show that day. Michael and Elisabeth invited us over “for the day” being a bit unspecific about the meal time, but suggesting that we might all take a swim in the pool of their newcapartment block. But, unbeknown to us, their plan was to serve an early meal and then pop out to see Fiona Shaw perform The Waste Land under Deborah Warner’s direction in Wilton’s Music Hall – within spitting distance of Michael and Elisabeth’s new place.
Good plan.
I recorded in my log that the piece was short and OK. I’ve never been over keen on The Waste Land as a piece of poetry. Fiona Shaw is of course marvellous and would probably hold one’s attention if reciting from the telephone directory.
Janie was intrigued by the T S Eliot aspect, as she had treated and continued to treat Valerie Eliot for many years.
Most interesting about the evening was seeing Wilton’s Music Hall, which had not been used for a performance for over 100 years and looked suitably distressed. I’m not sure that the health and safety brigade would today allow a performance in a place quite so distressed, but it was great to see it at that time. It has since been somewhat more revived.
Lyn Gardner warmed to the whole idea in The Guardian:
26 Nov 1997, Wed The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
25 Nov 1997, Tue Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
Chairs Billington Guardian 25 Nov 1997, Tue The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
