Tag Archives: Sharon D Clarke

“The Greatest Wealth” from the Old Vic

If Covid-19 has taught us anything, it’s that the NHS is as emotive and essential a subject for debate as it ever was. This series of monologues, curated by Lolita Chakrabarti, directed by Adrian Lester and funded by the TS Eliot Estate, uses the humanity – and drama – surrounding the greatest of British institutions with a strong sense of purpose. It is essential viewing.

The project started in 2018 but a new commission, from Bernardine Evaristo, starts the line-up online. First, Do No Harm has a personification of the NHS recounting her achievements and challenging us as to her future. Overtly political, with an attack on “myopic puppet” politicians, this effort to give the institution a voice is stirring and powerful. If some of Evaristo’s references, let alone lines such as “I have X-Ray vision”, come close to being overblown, a magisterial performance from Sharon D Clarke makes them work. The effect is tremendous.

Sharon D Clarke in 'The Greatest Wealth' from The Old Vic
Sharon D Clarke

Patients

Chronologically, the series starts with Jack Thorne’s charming piece, Boo, performed by Sophie Stone and showing the impact of the new NHS on a young deaf girl. It’s interesting to see suspicion about the service at its inception, and the writing has plentiful details and an admirably light touch.

Another patient’s perspective – similarly fresh and funny – is told in Choice & Control by Matilda Ibini, which has Ruth Madeley’s character getting on with her life in a wheelchair. It may not be “the Rolls-Royce of wheelchairs” but the point about having access to mobility is well made and Madeley has a lovely way with the audience.

Slightly less successful, if a touch more ambitious, Paul Unwin’s piece adds a dystopian twist that makes his At The Point of Need confusing. David Threlfall’s performance recounts how the NHS has touched his character’s life, but in too much of a rush. It is the only piece that ends more depressing than celebratory – a brave effort that backfires.

Practioners

A gentle humour, with an increased sense of awe about the science of medicine, is present in pieces about the 1970s and 1980s. Sister Susan by Moira Buffini and Speedy Gonzales by Chakrabarti show us a nurse and a consultant telling us about their work. Characters to truly admire lead to wonderful performances from Dervla Kirwan and Art Malik. 

Sister Susan from 'The Greatest Wealth' at The Old Vic
Dervla Kirwan

Pressure on the NHS is carefully conveyed in the piece about the 1990s. Another nurse and another strong role are present in Family Room by Courttia Newland with Jade Anouka. And stress on NHS staff gets a good twist. Newland highlights the difficulty of health workers protesting that fits well with the whole project’s aim.

High points

For me, the two highlights of the season contained the most humour, used to great effect in Meera Syal’s Rivers. Performing as a midwife in the 1960s, Syal handles the comedy expertly, with delicious irony and sarcasm. While many of the monologues highlight the role of immigrants within the NHS, Syal has a prime position within the debate and opens it up into a broader look at racism. The result rings true and gets laughs – an impressive combination. With powerful emotional twists, the writing has some great turns of phrase and a lovely rhythm.

Myra Syal in 'The Greatest Wealth' from The Old Vic
Myra Syal

A cabaret monologue, The Nuchess by Seiriol Davies makes for a great change of pace. There’s plenty of satire, including outsourcing the last chorus! And more points for rhyming heaven and Bevan. Performed with exuberance by Louise English (pictured top), this jolly personification of the NHS is markedly different from that in First, Do No Harm. But neither are performances to forget in a long time. The NHS doesn’t lack advocates, but they seldom come as articulate as the contributors here. Let’s hope that a monologue addressing the next decade contains only good news.

www.oldvictheatre.com

"Death of a Salesman" at the Piccadilly Theatre

Successful revivals – and this is one of the best – tend to present a classic text with reverence or remodel it for the current day. Trying to do both – respecting and reinventing – usually pleases nobody. But just such a combination has been achieved by co-directors Marianne Elliott and Miranda Cromwell with Arthur Miller’s classic story of Willy Loman’s demise. It’s like no production of the show before, but presents Miller’s concerns for the working man with utmost conviction. The result is marvellous. 

Casting the Loman family as African American is the most obvious difference. The consequences are profound, rippling through the show, continually adding layers to Miller’s text. Take Willy’s subservience to his much younger boss – more painful than ever. Highlighting the play’s concern with Willy’s breakdown is novel, too: since Miller’s day appreciation of mental health, including dementia, and how distressing it can be for victims, has grown. Flashback scenes, with bold lighting design from Aideen Malone, add a distressing air that increases sympathy for Willy. The production takes modern sensibilities into account and fills the play with new questions and tensions.

Meanwhile Miller’s political concerns are amplified. Rather than connect Willy to buzzwords (“the squeezed middle” or the “precariat”), ideas about the dignity of work, perhaps old fashioned, are explored as the writer intended. Likewise, the aspirations that obsess Willie, maybe even drive him mad, are given space. A period atmosphere is aided by Femi Temowo’s compositions and musical direction – I don’t think Miller’s ever been this cool. The brilliant design, by Anna Fleischle, makes the family home, just about to be purchased, a frame: a perfect reflection of how transparent these lives become to us.

Matthew Seadon-Young and Wendell Pierce in 'Death of a Salesman'
Matthew Seadon-Young and Wendell Pierce

As if all this weren’t enough, this production also boasts some of the most fantastic performances you could witness. The whole cast is impeccable, even the smaller roles who add to the music in the show. Victoria Hamilton-Barrit and Matthew Seadon-Young excel, despite their characters coming close to being devices. The Loman brothers are vividly depicted by Ṣọpẹ́ Dìrísù and Natey Jones with performances that complement each other – as they should. The tension for one bubbles under while the other’s anger proves explosive.

Making a West End debut that will surely be remembered for a long time, Wendell Pierce takes the lead role with astonishing skill. Willy is not an appealing character, rather a tin-pot tyrant who’s easy to condemn. But Pierce makes him a man you can warm to – and a surprisingly diffident person that you feel for. Adding a purity of intention, focusing on his sons, he becomes a noble character whose end is truly tragic. 

As his wife Linda, Sharon D Clarke recognises the role as the lynchpin of the play. Often quite literally centre stage, Clarke has the presence to make the role major. For Linda is also the play’s moral compass and Clarke gives a performance of dignified intensity that becomes heart-breaking. Finally, the chemistry between the two leads is something really special – adding an urgency to the drama and, again, an emotional impact that makes this the most moving Miller I’ve ever seen.

Until 4 January 2020

www.atgtickets.com

Photos by Brinkhoff & Mogenburg

“Caroline, Or Change” at the Hampstead Theatre

Well done to Edward Hall for bringing this Chichester Festival production to London. Director Michael Longhurst’s modest treatment of this major musical, about racism in the American south, has an intimacy that increases its intensity. The talents of Tony Kushner and Jeanine Tesori are awe inspiring, and this work ground breaking. The piece is sung throughout, so there’s a case for calling it an opera, but the genre doesn’t matter – this is simply something everyone should see.

Caroline, Or Change is at heart a “small domestic tragedy” about a middle-aged black maid, her children, and the family she works for. It’s a given that Sharon D Clarke would be good in the title role, but it’s a thrill to see just how great: her voice gives goose bumps and she portrays Caroline’s tough life, and harsher attitude, unflinchingly. Making Caroline heroic is interesting in itself, and seeing her through the eyes of Noah, the young boy she works for, is a brilliant device. She is not a wholly sympathetic character and Clark’s triumph is to balance the dramatic tension that results from this.

Following Caroline’s day, the washing machine, dryer, radio and bus she travels on all get songs. That might sound like Disney, but the music is for grown-ups and powerfully performed by Me’sha Bryan and Ako Mitchell, while T’Shan Williams, Sharon Rose and Carole Stennett make up a 60s-style singing trio. When allowed to keep coins Noah leaves in his laundry, Caroline’s struggles to take the child’s money. And all is played against the backdrop of the Civil Rights movement. So there’s change, big and small, with a heroine so poorly equipped to deal with either it becomes heart-breaking.

Kushner is a big ideas man, and there’s plenty of challenging thinking here. But these lyrics must count as some of the most extraordinary written. Along with propelling the plot, extending the family dramas and explicating historical events, the complexity of emotions expressed is remarkable. There’s wit, which makes many lines laugh out loud funny, and breath-taking imagery. Much of the text is pure poetry.

Matching Kushner’s skill with words comes the music of Jeanine Tesori. It’s a huge achievement that these lyrics never feel compromised: always clear, not a word out of place. The musical references have to be various, there’s a clash of cultures to evoke alongside a period feel. With gospel and blues comes Jewish folk music, the American anthem and Christmas carols. Weaved into all of these, with massive intelligence, are motifs for characters that provoke huge emotional impact.

Kushner and Tersori are smart and know great works require originality. Caroline, Or Change isn’t quite like anything else. It’s not just a matter of quirks – although it has delightful surprises – or contrariness. The audience goes home on a high (as it should). But Caroline’s fate is realistic, and any feelgood comes from the legacy of her children: led by her daughter Emmie, who wants to embrace the new and is given a suitably inspirational depiction by Abiona Omonua. Caroline herself can’t change. Given her life, could you? But putting such a fallible figure against dramas big and small is an important triumph of its own.

Until 21 April 2018

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photo by Marc Brenner

“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” at the National Theatre

Part of August Wilson’s decathlon of plays about race relations in America, this 1982 work is set in a 1920s Chicago recording studio. While the titular diva, known as the mother of the blues, fights with her manager and producer over adapting her signature song into a modern jazz style, her backing band’s members reveal personal and political tensions of their own.

It could be heavy stuff. Yet, by setting up plenty of laughs and endearing characters, Wilson’s play is hugely entertaining. Most impressively, by showing how racism infuses – indeed poisons – lives, the politics here are as emotive as they are educational. The segregated society the play is based in takes some getting your head around – the gap between races so fundamental – but showing how the players take it for granted has a humbling effect.
If the play has a failing, it’s that you can’t – and don’t – get enough of Ma Rainey. A flaw compounded by the fact that the excellent Sharon D Clarke takes the role. Written relatively thinly, the motivation behind her often-amusing artistic temperament is portrayed confidently and certainly makes you think. But with a voice this strong, it seems downright foolish not to get more music out of Clarke.

Impeccably directed by Dominic Cooke, Ultz’s design creates a sound booth aloft and a basement room that the band rehearses in. The feeling is sparse, almost wasteful given the size of the Lyttleton stage, but the claustrophobia is fitting enough. In a narrow space a quartet of excellent performers carefully reveal frequently harrowing stories from the boys in the band.

O-T Fagbenle and Lucian Msamati
O-T Fagbenle and Lucian Msamati

Giles Terera and Clint Dyer make a great double act as long-standing friends who play together. O-T Fagbenle has the star part as Levee, a talented, troubled and ambitious youngster, who embodies the power of new music – jazz. A tough call, we have to take Levee seriously while laughing at him quite a bit and Fagbenle manages this balance well, skillfully revealing the character’s tragic background. Lucian Msamati’s philosophising Toledo wants to open the eyes of his illiterate colleagues. Exquisitely delivering the most didactic of lines, he deserves our applause – our affection for him paying off with the play’s startling, tragic, conclusion. The impact and legacy of racism is clear here, making the play still frighteningly apposite.

Until 18 May 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Johan Persson

“Everyman” at the National Theatre

Chiwetel Ejiofor returns to the National Theatre, after 15 years, with a spectacular aerial descent onto the Olivier stage. This casting coup sets the tone for Rufus Norris’ first show as the National’s new boss: gritty, garish, Everyman aims for a broad audience.

Having debuted at the Olivier with Market Boy back in 2006, Norris knows how to use this space: the show is energetic and extravagant at every turn. It’s on trend, too, with Tal Rosner’s arty video design and William Lyons’ fusion score of club anthems and medieval instruments.

High-profile collaborations boost credibility, namely Javier De Frutos’ macabre choreography and Carol Ann Duffy’s new text, which is crammed with cursing and recasts Everyman as a City slicker for our secular times.

Strong acting from Kate Duchêne, as a downbeat God, and Dermot Crowley, as an enthusiastic Death, head up a hard-working ensemble, while Sharon D Clarke bolsters the singing formidably as Everyman’s mother.

The final guarantor of the show’s success is, of course, Ejiofor, whose performance embodies the immediacy that’s Norris’ hallmark style. The attempt to reinvigorate a medieval morality play, Britain’s earliest theatrical form, inevitably suggests Norris’ wish to start afresh, promising exciting times to come.

Until 30 August 2015

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Richard Hubert Smith

“Porgy and Bess” at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre’s annual musical is always at the top of my must-see list. For 2014, artistic director Timothy Sheader is more ambitious than ever with a production of the Gershwins’ iconic Porgy and Bess. The show lives up to expectations in near miraculous fashion – it’s an easy five stars.

The musical landscape Gershwin created to reflect the doomed love affair, between the crippled Porgy and the drug-addled fallen woman, Bess, is legendary. Musical director David Shrubsole has done a remarkable job, with the largest number of musicians ever working at the venue, to reinforce the adventurous nature of the score. This production reminds us how mind blowing Porgy and Bess must have sounded in 1935.

Sheader’s stripped-back production brings out the power of the story. What this man does with a few chairs and tables is fantastic. Firmly placing the protagonists within context is masterfully done. We are transported to a different world – full of pain and prejudice – and never doubt its coherence. Good and bad are clear here, brutality omniscient, but Sheader’s attention to detail insures complexity and depth.

The cast is superb. Sharon D Clarke and Golda Rosheuvel play the matriarchs of the setting, Catfish Row. Leading a stunning chorus, they sound fantastic and are utterly convincing as women committed to fighting for their community who suffer cruel lives with dignity. As Bess, Nicola Hughes is magnificent, her voice stunning. A study in sensuality, repentance and conflict, she takes Bess to the edge and comes perilously close to testing the audience’s affection for her.

Arthur Kyeyune and Tyrone Huntley with Cedric Neal as Sporting Life. Photo Johan Persson
Cedric Neal

Three cast members from America join these truly leading ladies. Phillip Boykin and Cedric Neal play very different bad guys: the instinctual Crown, who claims Bess as his woman, and the insinuating Sporting Life. Boykin is a powerful presence with a voice to match. Neal, like many a stage devil, gets great lines, his It Ain’t Necessarily So as intoxicating as the drugs he peddles. In the title role, Rufus Bonds Jr is deeply moving, with a voice that will melt your heart. Seeing any one of these performers on stage would be a privilege. Seeing all of them is an honour.

Until 23 August

www.openairtheatre.com

Photos by Johan Persson

Written 30 July 2014 for The London Magazine

“Ghost The Musical” at the Piccadilly Theatre

Many would rather die than see Ghost. A West-End musical that’s blatantly yet another attempt to cash in on the popularity of a movie that wasn’t very good in the first place, it sounds strictly for out-of-towners. Yet Ghost has some serious talent both behind the scenes and on stage. While its trite tagline asks us to ‘believe in love’, should we believe that this Ghost is worth seeing?

The plot is a given. A young woman becomes haunted by the ghost of her fiancé after his murder, aided by a medium who discovers, to her surprise, that her gifts are genuine. The first coup is the casting of Sharon D Clarke, who has fine comic skills and the kind of voice that makes you suspect she’s too good for the songs she’s singing. Which is certainly the case with the star of the show, Caissie Levy, who plays the lead role of Molly. A performer from America with the kind of belting voice and acting skills Broadway produces so well, Levy is a real star.

The important thing about Ghost is that it contains original music. There are occasions – such as the trio finale of the first act – that are very good indeed and, if some numbers fail, I think Dave Stewart should be given a break, as writing for this must have been a thankless task. With the ‘theme’ from the Everly Brothers already in so many heads, anything else penned is bound to seem incidental. Yet Stewart has produced a score that is interesting and deals with that tune intelligently.

Talented director Matthew Warchus adds credibility to the project and his speedy handling of the story is commendable. But the show seems hampered by flashy projections and the ensemble underused. It is tempting to imagine Ghost as some kind of chamber piece and possible to see that a stripped-back production could have been something very different indeed. The illusions added to the show by Paul Kieve are spectacular and the projections mark a new high technically, but both achievements move the production uncomfortably close to its cinematic heritage and make it strangely untheatrical.

That Ghost is so technically accomplished will not seem a fault to many. But the role of the leading man is a flaw that should have been corrected. As the programme reminds us, the departed fiancé, Sam Wheat, joins a long line of supernatural characters in plays. Unfortunately, Sam has the distinction of being the most boring ghost in theatre history. Richard Fleeshman deals valiantly with this fact, seemingly under the impression that if he sings loudly enough we will forget his character’s insipid sentimentality. He is mistaken. It is difficult to believe Sam is the grand passion of the rather wonderful Molly – love may be blind but here it is in danger of ending up deaf as well.

It is difficult to care about this ghost, so should you bother to see him? Yes. After all, any belief takes a leap of faith and the power behind the central performances, along with the competence of those who have put the show together, should be more than enough to convert all but the most cynical.

Photo by Sean Ebsworth Barnes

Written 30 September 2011 for The London Magazine