Cher Public

Jon Taylor

Cold comfort

My mother tells a story of being a toddler in the Midlands during World War Two, held in her mother’s arms in the back garden watching beautiful orange lights in the sky. But her mother didn’t find them beautiful: she was crying. “It’s Coventry” she said. “It’s Coventry.”  Read more »

She too

Before we start: he’s wearing wings because he’s going to a costume party.  Read more »

Country matters

Je vois d’autres lumières.

The internal jukebox working in the way it does, I have for over 20 years been unable to hear any reference to Glyndebourne without Kit and the Widow popping into my head. They were a cabaret duo who were a permanent fixture at the Edinburgh Fringe and one of the mainstays of their repertoire was a song, set to a well-known operatic overture (I leave it to the cher public to work out which one) which contained the lines “We’re off to Glyndebourne/To see a rather boring opera by Rossini.”  Read more »

Hard candy

In theatre, there are two types of tragedy. There’s the tearjerker (Romeo and Juliet, The Glass Menagerie) which leaves you wet-cheeked, cathartised and endorphinned, and there’s the sledgehammer (Antigone, Ghosts) where you sit dazed in your seat for five minutes after it finishes and don’t say much on the way home.  Read more »

Medium cool

Nico Muhly has set himself the task of presenting Winston Graham’s elusive heroine Marnie on the operatic stage.

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Queen of the damned

Semiramide—a better opera than this dude expected!”

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