Something I’ve heard from several people at this point is just how much time it takes to put together an Oxford Playhouse bid. Those few hours under lights representing the mere tip of the iceberg – hundreds of man hours, a cast and crew list as long as your arm. This production of Rent is no different, and as director Georgia Figgis related to me, they’ve been working on it for a suspiciously similar amount of time to the human gestation period.

When I was invited into the warmth of the Pembroke Pichette studio in a bitterly cold 0^th week, the passion in the rehearsal room stood in stark contrast to the pathetic and limp wristed attempts at snow that the Oxford weather was making outside. Musicals have always, in my experience, had a curious ability to garner enormous crowds of die-hard fans in a way that ordinary plays rarely achieve. The relevant group of fans for the musical Rent have taken the curious name Rent-heads; and if their slightly dubious Wikipedia article is to believed, one so called Rent-head went to see the Broadway production 1100 times in its 12 year run (lacking citation). The passion that the Rent team bring to their production is not quite so pathological as that (possibly fictional) individual; however it does burn just as brightly.

I was treated to performances of some of the most iconic songs from Rent – the rousing anger of the title track, the hilarious faux passion of ‘Tango Maureen’, the sound and fury of ‘Take me or Leave me’ which left one of the leads remarking “I’m so sad, I’m so angry, I’m so confused.” (Annabel Mutale Reed as Joanne). This was followed by an utterly heart wrenching performance of ‘Without you’; where sublimely tender choreography coupled with the melodious voice of Eleanor Shaw (Mimi) to leave several cast members in quite earnest floods of tears.

Talking to the cast, it became clear that the reasons for this emotion are complex, but all stem from a deep love of the diversity and depth of the characters in Rent – and the way they relate to their own lives. Rent is set in the 80s in New York’s East Village, a vibrant community living in the shadow of both Reaganomics (this play has allegedly turned one of its leads from a Tory canvasser nonetheless to an out and out leftie) and the HIV/AIDS epidemic, the latter of which killed more than 0.8% of the American population in this period – primarily amongst the LGBTQ+ community in vibrant, bohemian centres such as Alphabet City, New York.

HIV and AIDS are still, sadly, incredibly stigmatised even in 2016 (see James Delingpole’s frankly abysmal opening at the Oxford Union debate last term). Everybody involved in this production of Rent is quite evidently passionate about changing that – working alongside the Terence Higgins Trust (http://www.tht.org.uk) in the rehearsal room to help dispel the paranoia, disgust and sniggering which sadly still lingers around the fatal disease. I recommend perusing the production blog (https://rentoxford.wordpress.com) – particularly ‘Isaac: Patrick’s story’ for a deeply personal and saddening account of the HIV/AIDS crisis in the US.

The really striking thing about this production and its rehearsal process, which ties so neatly into the harrowing themes it covers, was the intent of the director and the choreographer not to treat the homosexual relationships in the play as tokens, defined by their sexuality. This intent comes out loud and clear in the choreography for ‘Without you’ – the three couples each express very different emotional difficulties, but there are none of the clichés that one has come to expect from the oft nuance-less portrayals of homosexual relationships in popular culture. Choreographer Ed Addison believes there to be a “level of novelty” in representing heterosexual and homosexual couples alongside one another in dance – “same sex couples dancing, you don’t see that… ever.”

I have no doubt that there’s a very strong population of Rent-heads in Oxford who will not be missing this show (nor the Plush after party) for the world. Even if you haven’t seen this show 1100 times before, I really would recommend going to see it, not only for the music and dance, but also for a cast that truly believes in the issues they’re tackling through their art. 

Oxford’s 2016 New Year concert took place at the Sheldonian, with the City of Oxford Orchestra conducted by the dynamic Stephen Bell. The orchestra accompanied pianist and Cambridge alumnus Tom Poster in Beethoven’s ‘Emperor’ concerto and welcomed soprano Pamela Haye to join them for Johann Strauss II’s ‘Laughing Song’.

The overture of Mozart’s opera The Marriage of Figaro served as opening, revealing the ensemble’s balanced sound. Before leading onto an aria by the same composer, Stephen Bell shared a cooking tip with the audience, proving how wrong it is to think that classical music doesn’t have its place in the modern world.

According to the jovial conductor, the time it took to play the first piece is identical to the time required to cook a perfect soft-boiled egg. This might not initially have been what Mozart had in mind, but it was pleasant to find the atmosphere lightened by Bell’s comments in a venue marked by decades of formal Latin speeches.

Up next was a masterful interpretation of Beethoven’s ‘Emperor’ concerto. Letting go of the orchestra’s power, this piece allowed the formation to show its depth, with the supporting double bass among the string section. Ranging from candid tunes played by the piano alone to avalanches of sound, this was truly the “treat” the conductor announced it would be, especially when it came to the pianissimo phrase that Tom Poster was able to captivate the audience with.

The second part brought its traditional ‘Waltzes, Polkas and Marches’, insisting a little too strongly on the cymbals for the triumphant airs of Suppe’s ‘Light Cavalry.’ The intimate ‘Marietta’s Lied’ by Korngold seemed almost out of place among such expansive pieces, introducing melodrama and slight imprecisions before moving on to the jubilatory Viennese waltzes.

It is a common criticism of orchestral music that the same pieces, movements and concertos are performed year after year, indicating its fundamental stagnation. Strauss’ ‘Egyptian March’ as well as the inevitable ‘Blue Danube’ closing the programme answered this criticism, whilst the choice of placing Strauss II’s ‘Laughing Song’ and the “Pizzicato Polka” composed by father and son together, in between the two more famous pieces, made the end of the concert refreshing and invigorating. Most importantly it demonstrated that classical music remains innovative, and Tom Poster’s ability to underline delicate aspects of the pieces and Stephen Bell’s energy complemented the orchestra to strike an enjoyable balance between refreshing vitality and well-known tunes during this evening.

★★☆☆☆

For the third time since their formation, alternative rock band Shinedown from Florida has joined the Carnival of Madness line-up, along with Black Stone Cherry and Halestorm, among others. The tour will be bringing back its fiery sets and equally fiery energy to the United Kingdom this winter, starting in Cardiff on 28 January and finishing with a show at the Manchester Arena on 6 February.

This will be an opportunity for Shinedown to convince their British fans of the merits of their fifth album Threat to Survival.

Released last September, the album marked a definite change of style that had already been announced in the previous one, Amaryllis. Instead of the heavy bass of earlier songs like ‘Sound of Madness’ and lead member Brent Smith’s rather unsophisticated but definitely headbang-worthy singing, ‘Asking for It’ – the first track of Threat to Survival – strikes as coming less from the band’s guts than from a known recipe for likeable but weaker rock songs.

Perhaps resulting from an attempt to produce more lyrical rock than the very straightforward ‘Devour,’ the chorus of ‘Asking for it’ is an example of how this album lacks the edge Shinedown was originally appreciated for. Despite this, their popular single ‘Cut the Cord’ retains some of the characteristic aggressive tone of their earlier works.

★★★★★

What do you get when you add 90s style pop and R&B vocals to a dance/grime/ house/dubstep club beat? In a nutshell: Kelela, or the interestingly-coined term ‘twisted R&B’. I am writing this because on no less than three occasions (three too many), I was met with silence and vacant expressions when requesting Kelela’s Cut 4 Me over music store counters. The decline of high street shops aside, thankfully the internet and a friend who owed me a birthday present came to the rescue.

Kelela has produced something so exciting and innovative that the absence of Kelela from HMV employees’ lives pains me deeply. After all, both Björk and Solange Knowles have praised this album – so a salute to those of you already Kelela clued-up.

The Guardian deemed Cut 4 Me seventh in its line-up of the best albums of 2013. Originally a mixtape, it was reissued for 2015, complete with nine new remixes which I actually think are utterly pointless. Kelela’s sound is like a remix in itself, but I suppose the nine new tracks form the deluxe edition of Cut 4 Me, and so they are the reason for the 2015 reissue and subsequently, my recent discovery of Kelela.

DJs from Fade to Mind (a label as well as movement) and the English electronic label Night Slugs teamed up with the Washington-based Kelela to produce tracks like the glorious ‘Send Me Out’, the textured ‘Guns & Synths’ and the well-known ‘Bank Head (Extended)’. In ‘Floor Show’ Kelela sings, “This tug of war is addictive somehow”, reminding me of the tension in her music, the tug between chart, pop vocals and booming dub pulses which are full of twists and turns, fighting to stray from Kelela’s powerfully anchoring falsetto.

Her sultry vocals have a magical, softening eff ect and although the rhythms aren’t always perfectly synced to the vocals, the layering of syncopated sounds and genres typifies this bold album.

Back in 2013, The Guardian applauded Kelela’s raw emotion, but I struggle to hear such feeling in the slick composure of her vocals and fairly tame lyrics. Maybe this is because I haven’t heard much else in the way of ‘twisted R&B’, which apparently can sound robotic. The track ‘A Lie’ probably exhibits the most feeling, and the opening reminds me of the heaviness yet simple sincerity of Rhye. But there’s defi nitely none of the turmoil and fervour of FKA Twigs, whom Kelela has frequently been compared to. With clocks ticking and ropes creaking in a sound that would seamlessly back a Tim Burton feature, FKA Twigs’ sound is far bittier than Kelela, and her dark, sexual themes so much more disturbing.

In this sense, Kelela is less daring, but experimental in a diff erent and more accessible way. Her EP Hallucinogen was released in October, featuring the rich and steady ‘A Message’ and my personal favourite ‘Rewind’, with the popdub hybrid or ‘twisted R&B’ now established as something of a trademark for Kelela.

Kelela’s voice is guaranteed to soothe you, with tracks such as the two interludes ‘Go All Night (Let Me Roll)’ and ‘Go All Night (Let It Burn)’ evoking the mood-music of a decadent art gallery or boutique.

You couldn’t run or dance to this album (although I can think of certain other activities that would suit) but this beautiful limbo that Kelela’s formula off ers is the basis of Cut 4 Me ’s appeal. Five stars? Why not? It’s such a new sound to me – I’m hooked, and eagerly await more from this talented artist.