Reviews

Published on Friday 4 April 2008 20:51

THEATRE and Music

THEATRE

CAN WE LIVE WITH YOU? ***

TRAVERSE, EDINBURGH

WHEN the hard-up McScott family refuse a loan from shady Mr Big Fish's counterfeiting machine – its mechanical innards mimed by members of the cast – and strike out in search of somewhere to live, the stage appears set for a drama about the dynamics of inclusion in a capitalist society, perhaps exploring the politics of charity and the role of the black market.

The family seem lost among the commuters on public transport and friends will not take them in. But they do club together to buy the McScotts tickets to The Land of Delightful Things, a tropical Oz that may not be everything it seems behind the inflatable palm trees. At this point, audience members and misguided critics grasping for Marxist polemic will concede defeat: Can We Live With You?, it turns out, is a much simpler, archetypal story in which the true destination is the journey itself, travelled together.

Born from an improvisation exercise on the idea of "outer space", and with an ensemble of more than 40 mixed-ability actors and musicians, Lung Ha's production often threatens to lose focus, especially during some lively hoedown scenes, although Alan Wilkins's dramaturg shrewdly keeps the focus on the family as a unit.

Conducting a cast of this enormity and wide-ranging freedom of movement, director Clark Crystal and choreographer Ethelinda Lashley-Johnstone deserve tremendous credit, with scenes evolving and succeeding each other fluidly, while Matilda Brown's sometimes jarring, but more often bold, jazzy score buoys the show along nicely.

Katrina Merrilees and Nicola Tuxworth deserve special mention as the feisty McScott daughters, as does Alastair MacCulloch as the suitably named Captain Dodgy, with David Brown fine value as the menacing, slippery Big Fish.

MUSIC

JOHN TAYLOR AND GWILYM SIMCOCK *****

GLASGOW ROYAL CONCERT HALL

THE combination of the seasoned John Taylor and the fast-rising Gwilym Simcock promised a memorable feast of creative jazz piano, and so it turned out. Whether performing individually or in tandem, the pair maintained an absorbing level of creative thinking and interaction that ensured a long concert never felt like a note too many.

Hearing each play a solo set was a treat in itself, but it was the duets that really scored. Two pianos with no rhythm section is not unprecedented in jazz, but it is unusual, and the occasion was given extra spice by the generational contrast. Taylor is long established as one of the greatest players on the European jazz scene, while Simcock is a major talent in the making and acknowledges the older pianist as an influence.

Their explosive duet seemed to click into place right from the opening notes of Cole Porter's Everything I Love, and they negotiated the effervescent tumbling phrases as if they do this all the time (it was only their third collaboration). Their wide-ranging musical resources, structured manipulation of space and ability to respond to ideas in spontaneous fashion were exhilarating.

Joe Henderson's brooding Black Narcissus, a lovely, thoughtful development of A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square and a sophisticated, high-speed romp through On Green Dolphin Street confirmed their empathy. They switched pianos for their encore with similar results.

MUSIC

LAU ****

CCA, GLASGOW

"IS THIS the West End?" inquired Aidan O'Rourke, fiddler with folk supergroup Lau. "No? Well hello, Middle Glasgow". Of course you get the feeling he knows the difference – his band are cosmopolitan enough to be based in Edinburgh – but a bit of city-versus-country banter never goes amiss.

O'Rourke had every right to be cheerful at this Tune Up show, seeing as his band are the reigning Best Group at the Radio 2 Folk Awards. That's why he, accordionist Martin Green and guitarist (and sometime singer) Kris Drever were the de facto headliners here, although the real highlight came when they were joined by supporting pipers The Ross Ainslie/Jarlath Henderson Trio. Confusingly, said trio were the pair named in the title, plus poor uncredited guitarist Ali Hutton.

Each band offered a markedly different experience, thanks to their choice of instruments, but neither could be singled out as more skilled or energetic. Amid separate trios or as a sextet, the players attacked their instruments with such verve that involuntary whoops and cheers were pulled from the audience throughout.

Lau provided some priceless banter between songs, while Drever's folk ballads offered a nice counterbalance to the restless barroom hustle of his band's other tracks. Reels were not so much reinvented, in this case, as re-energised with precise, youthful vigour.

MUSIC

GET CAPE. WEAR CAPE. FLY. **

ABC, GLASGOW

OUR host is telling us about the first song he wrote on his own after surviving a series of teenage bands, reminiscing about the fact that he's still "the same person, with the same beliefs, as way back then". Could it be Morrissey? Robert Plant? Ian Brown, perhaps? Try Sam Duckworth, earnest crooner, and Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly. Duckworth is 22 years old.

The early days of his public career were worth taking note of, with a flickering of social consciousness and musical talent making him worthy of tentative comparison to a junior Billy Bragg. But how the promising have turned vaguely patronising since.

On a big stage, with a full band, Duckworth's muse sounded so flat that even his two-piece horn section failed to excite – a rare skill that, making horns sound boring. His songs, earnest and crammed with jaded politicism, dared to appear in public under titles like Window of Your Mind, incorporated starter-mortgage drum'n'bass and even gave us a rare sighting of the word "pseudoreality" as a lyric.

By the end, at long last, a simple love song named Find the Time made best use of Duckworth's talents, while War of the Worlds incorporated a pleasing bit of volume.

Otherwise, imagine the exact opposite of the concept of rebellion, and then picture Sam Duckworth standing on that spot.