I do recall Bobbie telling me about her imaginary friend, some time before this production. But as far as I know that didn’t all go horribly wrong for her. I certainly don’t remember this production generating additional revelations from Bobbie.
I think this was my first encounter with Complicité, or Théâtre de Complicité as it was then known.
I saw this production with Bobbie Scully.
Superb
…was my verdict at the time and I do still remember this as an especially wonderful night at the theatre.
Complicité stalwarts were out in force; Kathryn Hunter, Marcello Magni, Simon McBurney (the latter also directed this one)…plus Jasper Britton, who I wouldn’t normally think of as a Complicité dude.
To the Royal Festival Hall in deep midwinter with Bobbie, as part of the BBC Symphony Orchestra 60th Anniversary festival. We went to a couple of these concerts; this was the second of them.
Stephen Bishop-Kovacevich waved the stick and David Butt played the flute. We heard three great works by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart:
Symphony No 39 in E Flat Major
Flute Concerto in G Major, K313/KE285c
Symphony No 40 in G Minor, K550
I’m not sure this was a perfect fit of conductor and orchestra for these works, but it was lovely to hear these familiar pieces in the Royal Festival Hall. I cannot find any newspaper archive reviews for this one, so my one-line review based on a memory of an event from nearly 34 years ago (as I write) will have to do.
I loved this wonderful monologue, written and performed by Wallace Shawn. At the time, in my log, I declared it to be:
Excellent.
Thirty years on, writing in late January 2021, I remember it vividly and now, in the time of Covid and dysfunctional politics, it seems so apposite and prescient.
This was the first time I saw Wallace Shawn and/or his work live. I had previously enjoyed his film work, not least My Dinner With Andre, so was thrilled to see him perform.
I saw this original, authoritative performance with Bobbie Scully. It was a National Theatre/Royal Court Theatre joint production. Why don’t they do this more often? Here is a link to the RNT archive record for it. It showed at The Royal Court Theatre Upstairs and at the Cottesloe – we caught it at the latter.
Strangely, the text of the piece is in the public domain – I assume by design – so if you want to read the draw-droppingly still-relevant piece, it can be read here. Or if that link ever fails, try this scrape here.
If you click through the 2009 piece to Michael Billington’s review of that production, he confesses to having been smitten with the piece the first time. That tells us that Michael Billington goes to see stuff at the theatre even when it isn’t his turn to write the review. Now THAT’s a theatre enthusiast! Nicholas de Jongh – you’re outvoted!
Bobbie and I went to a couple of Friday evening concerts at The Royal Festival Hall as part of the BBC Symphony Orchestra’s 60th Anniversary festival.
We were supposed to see the great Günter Wand performing a couple of Beethoven Symphonies, but Günter pulled out at the last minute so Andrew Davis decided to shake a stick at one of Günter’s signature pieces:
Anton Bruckner – Symphony No 8 in C Minor.
Hence, a one piece concert, this.
I did subsequently get to hear and see Günter perform this piece with the BBC Symphony Orchestra at what turned out to be his last BBC Prom hurrah – another occasion when we turned up to hear one set of pieces and got Bruckner 8 instead.
It’s just as well that I like Bruckner 8. I guess I have become mighty familiar with it over the years, collecting four Bruckner 8’s in 10 years between 1989 and 1999.
Malcolm Hayes in The Telegraph was unsure about this brave (but in his view, flawed) 1991 attempt:
Bobbie joined me on my birthday in 1990 for this Prom. I seem to recall it was a goody.
James Conlon conducting the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra in the following works:
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Violin Concerto No 4 in D major, K 218
Gustav Mahler – Symphony No. 6 in A minor
Isabelle van Keulen was the soloist for the Mozart. She was a young star back then, as was Mozart when he wrote his violin concertos.
Here are YouTubes of Isabelle’s recording of the Mozart 4 Violin Concerto. With the Concertgebouw Chamber Orchestra rather than the Rotterdam Philharmonic, but you can’t have everything. The girl can play.
There’s not much out there to illustrate James Conlon conducting the Rotterdam Philharmonic, but this section from Liszt’s Faust Symphony is rather charming:
While here is the Rotterdam Philharmonic more recently, with current Principle Conductor Lahav Shani, performing a short snatch from Mahler 6:
Meanwhile, back to that 1990 concert, Robert Henderson in The Telegraph seemed satisfied but not ecstatic:
Edward Greenfield in the Guardian waxed lyrical about the Mahler but not so about the Mozart. Comparing a 24-year-old prize winner debuting at the Proms with Pinchas Zuckerman seems a tad unfair, though.
My log says that this was a transfer from The Other Place in Stratford and that I (possibly we – Bobbie was with me) was/were not 100% sure about it.
What was there not to be sure about? Splendid cast: Willard White as Othello, Ian McKellen as Iago, Imogen Stubbs as Desdemona, Zoe Wannamaker as Emilia…Trevor Nunn directing.
I also have a feeling that the 1989 RSC production felt a little over-theatrical to me. There is a certain Trevor Nunn style. Little did I know then that Janie and I would meet Trevor and Imogen – strangely around about the time we saw the 1997 RNT Othello.
My log says “little recollection” for this one, so I guess it didn’t make a big impression. Bobbie was with me.
Pirandello is one of those playwrights whose work I want to like more than actually do like. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that I tend to enjoy reading his plays, because the ideas are fascinating, but many of them are difficult to produce in an entertaining way – at least to the eyes of the modern audience.
Man, Beast And Virtue is an early Pirandello, written in 1919 (100 years ago as I write in 2019), about two years before his breakthrough play, Six Characters In Search Of An Author.
I saw this production of The Merchant Of Venice with Bobbie. I don’t think either of us was overly enamoured of it. I registered “quite good” in my log, which is faint praise from me.
There was a lot of hype about this production because Dustin Hoffman was playing Shylock. I recall that Bobbie’s friend May Lamb referred to that actor as “Dustbin Hoffman” – I must admit that I have never been able to process his name the same way since.
There were other good folk in this production; Geraldine James as Portia for a start. Michael Sibbery as Gratiano, Ian Lavender as Solanio, Leigh Lawson as Antonio, Peter-Hugo Daly as Launcelot Gobbo and many other good names. Peter Hall directed it.
Sometimes a collection of big names is not, in itself, enough.
Also, I have a feeling that this is not really a great play; that’s my opinion anyway. Technically it is a comedy in the Shakespeare canon, but well short of laughs for the modern audience, even by Shakespeare comedy standards.
No doubt about it – Bobbie joined me for this one. She was keen to see the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic under the auspices of the great Czech conductor Libor Pešek. I was keen to see how he would deal with one of my favourite works, Smetana’s Má Vlast.
Strangely, although the national papers promoted this concert widely in advance, none chose to review it by the looks of it. Typical.
Here’s one of the sea interludes performed by the very outfit we saw:
Here’s Stephen Hough with the BBC Symphony from the first night of the Proms 2013 with the Rachmaninov Paganini:
Here’s Libor Pesek and The Royal Liverpool mob playing their four movements of Ma Vlast in Libor Prom order:
Alternatively, if you want to hear that recording in full in Smetana sequence, I have made it available on this playlist – click here. Do not be put off if you see a seemingly erased link – you can hear it whether or not you have a YouTube Music account – you just get adverts of you don’t.
In truth I couldn’t bring to mind Skocná – Dance of the Comedians, but James Levine & the Vienna lot brought it all back to me:
I’m really not at all sure that Entry of the Gladiators belonged with this concert, but that’s what they did. The piece was originally written as a serious piece of military marching music, although how anyone with that moustache composing that piece expected to be taken seriously, even back then, I cannot imagine.
On reflection, I think the use of that piece as a second encore was a mistake. When Libor Pesek suggested that they play a second encore, one of the scouse musicians loudly expressed his discontent with the traditional local expletive, but unfortunately Pesek thought the fellow said: