★★★★☆

Four Stars 

I spent a lot of time before going to see this play attempting to come up with a witty pun: “brief but not hideous”; “hideously brief”; “brief and hideous” were all serious contenders. However, five minutes in, I realised that this clever and nuanced play could not simply be described by a quip on the title. If, that is, it can be described at all.

Many have tried labelling it with the cliched genus of ‘dark comedy’ but, for me, placing these two together seems odd – yes it is ‘dark’ and yes it is a ‘comedy’, but these two things jar together throughout the play. You find yourself laughing one second and the next recoiling in disgust (especially in one memorable toilet attendant scene). But this is not a criticism; it is precisely how these two things conflict with each other that makes the play so interesting.

The play, adapted for the stage by Josh Dolphin and Penny Cartwright, follows short sketches – misleadingly not interviews – of modern hideousness. Yes, these are extreme stories of S&M gone wrong and masturbation mishaps but they also feed into the insecurity we all feel – the fear that we won’t find someone to accept us for us. The room erupts with laughter, but it is an aching laughter.

It’s the BT as I’ve never seen it before, chairs forming a semi-circle around the stage, violating the safe distance between the audience and stage. This is something played upon in a number of the monologues. Alex Newton’s special effects were particularly exciting – the thumping of a heart, the discordant music and shadow play never felt gratuitous, but rather added to the strange dissonant atmosphere of the surreal piece.

The show is produced in collaboration with the Revue and, whilst it stands alone, each ensemble member clearly has a deeply engrained comedic understanding. Particular standouts were James Colenutt with his physical inhabitation of each character’s voice, ticks, and behaviour, and Tom Dowling for his unparalleled comic timing in a particularly hilarious monologue of his ill-fated S&M habits on his “four and a half foot ottoman”. His ability to deadpan deliver the line, “The excitement was intense but not necessarily genital,” deserves a standing ovation in itself. The ensemble as a whole works extremely well together, transforming each scene into a slick and self-contained entity.

The fact that each scene is self-contained is perhaps the only problem since it made for confusing transitions that, although not messy or ill-timed, were slightly disjointed and at times hard to follow. Overall, however, the play was poignant, funny and just the right length.

★★★★☆

Ushered into the atmospheric nave of St Peter’s Chapel, the performance of Dido and Aeneas begins the moment the door is opened. Dry ice creeps around the edge of the door, catching in the light as the orchestra launch into the jaunting overture.

The setting is breath-taking. As the houselights descend, the stained glass window becomes back-lit, casting rays of saintly light upon the stage as we are introduced to the chorus and the court of Carthage and Belinda’s song of optimism. One struggles to imagine a more apt place to stage Purcell’s baroque masterpiece than the chapel of St Peter’s College. First performed in a girls’ school in 1689, the chapel of the college once served a similar institution In this sense, the opera has returned to its roots. Indeed, impressive quality performance when singing was emphasised as a key element of the original curriculum at the school. It is hard to comment on the Orchestra led by John Warner, as I can find no fault in the sextet – it was delightful to hear a harpsichord brought to life in such an atmospheric setting.

Vocally, it is hard to find fault. Dido’s (Rachel Coll) opening aura is refined to a sublime lament. She quite simply lives the role, eyes glistening with tears, brow furrowed in intense internal conflict. Her performance is the highlight of the show, and the production team must be commended on such a successful casting. Similarly, Tom Dixon’s depiction of the Sorcerer deserves high commendation. His counter-tenor voice is simply flawless.

The performance of the witches was another strength of the show. Rory Green’s mannerisms are perfectly snivelling as he and Lila Chrisp approve their master’s plan for Dido’s downfall. They are suitably scary, bedecked in white face-paint and strong black eyebrows, but maintain a certain comical aspect. The bearded and cross-dressed appearances of the male witches remind one of Macbeth’s weird sisters and maintains a healthy aspect of comedy in the midst of the tragic cycle.

Similarly, the chorus provides the perfect blend of comedy and tragedy. Their reactions to the events unfurling around them compliment, but do not detract. Bearing paper props, they demonstrated the ever fragile vanity of the Dido’s character. Their performance as drunken sailors was a welcome comical reprieve f before the tragic pathos of Act III gripped the audience.

My only criticism of the production comes in Act III. Dido and Aeneas’s passionate parting lacked force and conviction, but is nothing that cannot be remedied in subsequent performances. The production quickly picked up again for Dido’s heartbreaking demise. The audience is captivated as she removes her symbols of majesty and is surrounded by the chorus bearing lit lanterns. The setting of the chapel and her white night-gown gives the feeling of a convict awaiting execution upon Tower Hill. As her final lament rises from her lips, we are gripped. The closing epilogue of the chorus huddled around her lifeless body is the perfect close to the production. As Aeneas rejoins the cast, one is reminded of his final encounter with Dido in Virgil’s underworld – able to see her, but speak no more. His guilt lingers perpetually, and so will the immense success of this performance.  

The Chingford massive, Blazin’ Squad, were massive in every sense of the word: in numbers, they were forced to cram onto the Top of the Pops stage, whilst in top ten singles, the band held six. Girls cooed at their slitted eyebrows, gold chains and spiky, gelled up hairdos.

But despite blazing a trail in the charts, things slowly began to look less peachy for the band, who, after losing seven members, changed their name to Friday Hill and were subsequently dropped by their record company, Peach Records.

Flava and Strider now work as producers at their company MoJam, and Rocky B, or ‘Primetime Pro-Juice’, as his Myspace page states, has also turned his hand to producing. Kenzie’s flip reversed from being a scrawny Big Brother housemate back in 2005, to personal trainer, joining Craig David in a series of failed pop stars nursing their bruised egos in the gym, whilst the rest of the squad have all turned to DJing, forking off at their own ‘crossroads’.

★★☆☆☆

There is nothing unique about Megan Trainor’s voice to justify her new popularity as a singer, and any character there might have been is removed by auto-tune. The album opens well with ‘The Best Part’, aptly named for it being a small highlight, making use of interesting harmonies. The infamous ‘All About That Bass’ that follows is an undeniably catchy number. It beats many of the other songs on the album which, lacking lyrical or melodic interest, resort to unnecessary key changes and instrumentation.

The lyrics of ‘All About That Bass’ have been praised by some for promoting a positive body image. I have to disagree. If the lyrics are properly listened to, they do not preach empowerment. Trainor explains that men don’t like “skinny bitches”, they like “a bit of booty to hold at night”. Confidence building? I think not. Indeed, in the song ‘Dear Future Husband’, Trainor sings a message of female passivity in ‘Dear Future Husband’, in which she begs him to “tell me everything is going to be alright” and to “buy me a ring”.

Lacking originality, I don’t expect Trainor will have a particularly long career as a performing artist. But perhaps I’m being too generous to music listeners today: maybe she is what we secretly all want to hear. That’s why she’s famous and many far more talented amateur pop musicians are not. Or am I just jealous? 

★★★★☆

Rae Morris’ debut album is long overdue, having been signed by Atlantic in 2012 and heralded as one of the sounds of 2015 by Radio 1 Introducing. Her upbringing in Blackpool is evident in Unguarded’s dark, melancholy feel – perfect to accompany a lone walk along the stormy pier.

The majority of the songs are slow and sad, which suits her breathy, mournful voice. Her first single, ‘Don’t Go’, is perhaps the most sorrowful. It is lyrically elegant, and would be ideal for those moments when you feel hopelessly sorry for yourself, and need a song to match your mood. The title track, ‘Unguarded’, carries the album forward, combining both the mournful and the more positive, showcasing another of Morris’ talents. These songs have the benefit of being romantically minded, with neither the sickly sweetness nor the dire heartache of other young singer/songwriters; striking that delicately poised balance.

However, there are also more catchy songs to hook in the listener – such as ‘Under the Shadows’ – which combine the familiar mournful voice with a more enthusiastic background beat, and ‘Cold’ sung with Fryars. The album would benefit from a sharper focus on the more interesting side of Morris shown in these two tracks, for it is slightly overcome by melancholy, but overall, it is a debut to be commended.

Los Campesinos! are the type of band that you have either never heard of, or are madly in love with. Those who have heard of them relish every new musical morsel with glee. Every key pressed on the synth evokes a swoon, and said fans have seen them live more times than some of their closest relatives. However, it would be a huge mistake to call their fanbase “small”. The band has toured the globe, playing dates stretching from South America to Australia, with fans on Tumblr screaming out for them to come and play their home town in far flung corners of the globe. Such a global fan base is an impressive feat for a band formed by mates at Cardiff University in 2006. Their first full-length album Hold On Now Youngster (2008) was met with high critical praise. Documenting tales of teenage heartbreak whilst retaining biting humour, many would say the album’s xylophone and violin filled annals still sound as great as when it was released seven years ago.

However, the band’s frontman Gareth Campesinos! is ambivalent towards the collection of songs written in his song-writing youth. “‘Matured’ is a pretentious word,” he says. “But I would say our song writing and musical ability has developed massively. There are some songs on the first album that I am still very fond of, and others where I feel like I was trying too hard while writing the lyrics. My greatest weakness as a lyricist over the first 18 months or so was a willingness to pre-empt what I thought people wanted to hear from our band. Subsequently, a lot of it is not particularly genuine or sincere. My main issue with the first album is that, in comparison to those which have followed, it sounds a terrible mess.” Yet, it is not just skills of individuals that have altered over the band’s career, but the individuals themselves. To date, four of the band’s original septet have left to pursue various other career paths.

Such a change in composition and dynamic could perfectly reasonably be a huge strain. However, in Gareth’s opinion, the lineup changes have had positive effects. “Every change that has occurred in the band’s line-up has improved us musically. But, more importantly, it has made us a tighter-knit unit. Los Campesinos! has always felt bigger than the sum of its parts, and when somebody has chosen to leave the band, it’s galvanised the rest of us to make us better than we were before, and we’ve achieved that every time.”

The band is undoubtedly a strong unit. But what is also refreshing to find is the individuals that make up the unit as a whole are grounded individuals living in the real world. The members each have full time day jobs, which has both positive and negative effects. “It’s both easy and hard balancing work and the band. When the band was full-time I felt huge guilt that I was earning a living from doing very little. I like working , and feeling like I’m contributing to something, but I also find it very hard to focus in on creative things sometimes. It’s difficult to find the free time to write, I suppose. As for choosing one over the other, the only choice that could be made was to concentrate on work, because to choose the band would be to choose to be broke, and that’s not really viable! Fortunately, we just about manage to keep both going.”

The fact that the band balances work, producing, and touring means that when live performances are forthcoming, they put their all into them. Gareth makes it clear how sincerely he and the band love playing to an audience of receptive fans screaming out their lyrics, and touring with emerging support bands. That is, as long as they are “Good people, good drinkers, and no[t] bigots.”

After five albums, where does any band turn next? As Gareth explains, “We’re very much at a crossroads. The pressure to earn a living through conventional work is unforgiving and leaves little time for us to write music, especially without the level of record label support we’ve had in the past. But we believe in the band more than we ever have, and we’ll start work on something soon.” 

Even in the modern age, Henry Purcell’s masterpiece of baroque opera Dido and Aeneas is simply sublime. When one listens to the pieces, they retain the same shimmering beauty as when first performed in 1692. Based on Virgil’s tragic romance occurring in Book Four of the Aeneid, it is arguably the best opera written in the English language. For an opera with such a short running time, it has a huge reputation, which only makes producing the damn thing even harder!

It is true, the St Peter’s cast and crew have taken on a huge mouthful of English classical music. But from the previewed material, they clearly have the stomach for it – and their ambitious selves could handle even more, if offered seconds. Walking in at Act II, I am greeted by a deliciously wicked performance of the Sorceresses plotting Dido’s downfall. The sheer glee as the contorted bodies of the Witches writhe while they sing their plans in ‘But Ere We This Perform’ is a pleasure to watch. As Act II progresses, it becomes clear how strong the chorus is as part of the production; their beautiful harmonies are flawless. They are an integral part of the production, becoming both props and players to the unfolding drama around them.

But the figure who impressed the most was that of the tragic icon, Dido (played by Rachel Coll). The role is intense, an emotional roller-coaster for any singer or actress, yet she succeeds in capturing her character and voice. Coll’s rendition of ‘Ah Belinda, I am pressed with Torment’ is heart-shattering. Her voice wraps around each sorrowful note perfectly, her diction is perfect. But it is not just her voice which deserves praise. Her expressions perfectly capture the emotional torment of her character. Her performance of ‘Dido’s Lament’ holds the room with a captivating sorrow, an almost-whisper falling into the heart-crashing final lines (‘Remember me, But forget my fate’). Her performance is, in short, flawless and tragic without being melodramatic.

The production promises to be awe-inspiring. As I am led around St Peter’s Chapel, where the opera will be staged, it becomes clear how ambitious the production team are. With 95 per cent of the cast sourced from within the College choir alone, and with only a week and a half of rehearsals it is clear how talented both the production team and cast are. I desperately plead that anyone and everyone go to see this immensely promising production.