Back To Basics

It’s been quite a busy week with several reviews to get under my belt and an unscheduled extra day in the office to deal with. On Sunday I was off to review Back To The Musicals at The Pheasantry on the King’s Road. The Pheasantry is an intimate venue that seats about 70 people comfortably and serves food and drinks. To a certain extent it fills the gap left behind by the closure of Pizza on the Park a couple of years ago but it lacks the size and facilities to be able to handle really big names in the industry, who no will no doubt be lured by the bright lights and plush fixtures and fittings of the Matcham Room at the Hippodrome in Leicester Square.

The Matcham Room is also a much bigger venue, seating about 180 people so producers are more likely to be able to make some money. A hope shared no doubt by the crowds of tired-looking punters wandering around the casino in search of easy money on red or black. Anyway, according to the official press release Back To The Musicals promised ‘up and coming performers from the world of the West End exploring the rich and varied catalogue of musical theatre’s biggest hits (and misses) from 1950 – 1955’ Hmmmm……

Now I won’t get into a lather about the choices made but suffice to say the variety wasn’t quite as rich as it could have been. My biggest beef was with the performances.  Hell yes, the quartet were great singers but who were they? I’m not moaning at the lack of star names but at the lack of any names at all. Cabaret, especially intimate cabaret like this has always been a little bit more than standing on stage and singing songs. It’s about engaging with your audience, explaining why you ate there and maybe explaining some of your song or show choices. Admittedly there was an introduction to each set, but either spoken off-stage or read from a scrappy piece of paper on stage. Ingénue director and performer Jennifer Coyle needs to realise that they have a decent product here that requires a good deal more thought in terms of presentation. At the very least next time, be prepared for an encore! It does make me wonder how many good cabaret performer graduates actually get to see to learn from.

Not Only A Winter's Tale

Having only recently been a little concerned at the lack of new musicals on the scene suddenly four appear on the trot. Firstly we have The Picture House opening next week at Lost Theatre in Wandsworth, then in November we have A Winter's Tale at the Landor Theatre and Boy Meets Boy at the Jermyn Street Theatre. I guess you might also be able to include The Hatpin, an Australian musical which is having its UK premiere at the lovely Blue Elephant next month. I shall also be checking out Gap Year - The Musical, running for two performances only at the Leicester Square Theatre.

Add to this productions of Call Me Madam, Hot Mikado, Victor Victoria, Marguerite and the return of the Above The Stag panto Call Aladdin it looks like there will be plenty to warm our spirits as Winter well and truly sets in.

Soho Cinders

George Stiles and Anthony Drewe are in a very strong position in the West End. They are prolific new musical theatre writers who have worked hard over the years and have developed a solid reputation although if truth be told they have arguably never scored a popular hit. Their greatest success to date has been adding additional material to the already popular score of Mary Poppins. Their appeal however has never really stretched to a successful long run despite a number of amiable, smaller shows such as Honk! The Ugly Duckling and Just So, their recent Betty Blue Eyes was a damp squib that failed to attract popular attention.

Their reworking of the Cinderella story, Soho Cinders had been in development for some time with various workshops and a well-received concert version taking place last year. The problem is that the plot of Soho Cinders feels as if it has been written by a couple of sixth-form school boys out to shock. The Soho they depict is more rose tinted than pink, with rent boys who don't have sex, closeted politicians with astoundingly understanding wives and strip-club managed by sexually frustrated, overweight women.

The daft thing is that it could have been so much better. The Cinderella story is a rich multi textured tale that has been used again and again through the years. It is the most filmed story in the history of movie-making not to mention ballets and of course the countless pantomimes that exist. So where did they go wrong? I am wont to believe that it was partially to do with the development of fairly unlikeable and unlikely heroes. Rather than have their Cinders as a reluctant sex-worker, forced unwillingly to go on the game to help fund his further education, our hero is given the 'vanilla' option and we are asked to believe that the sex never really takes place. As for the new Prince Charming, making a politician the hero is always going to be a stretch, especially one who is in the closet whilst engaged to a charming and intelligent woman.

On the plus side, Robbie’s (the Soho Cinders of the title) step-sisters are a great pair of comedy grotesques and thankfully Stiles and Drewe draw on them for many of the lighter and invariably more successful moments in the show. There is also the villainous political advisor William George to add conflict into the narrative and the sweet Velcro, the Soho Cinders version of the Buttons character – d’ya get it?!

Stiles and Drewe have many other irons in the fire, not least an adaptation of one of my favourite movies Soapdish – based on a Sally Field, Kevin Klein vehicle from the early 1990’s. Hopefully, it will capture the public’s imagination and give them the popular hit they so richly deserve.

The Good Gatsby

On the subject of musicals, a few weeks ago I was at a performance of Vieux Carre at the Charing Cross Theatre where I bumped into that prolific theatre director and sometime theatre reviewer Phil Wilmot. I have had the pleasure of seeing a number of Phil’s productions over the years and I was particularly impressed with his King John at the Union earlier this year for which he has been nominated as Best Director in the 2012 Off West End Awards.

We spoke of musicals and in particular The Great Gatsby Musical, which I had seen the previous week. I mentioned that I had not been expecting much from it but found it a pleasant surprise. I also mentioned that a colleague had vehemently disagreed with me on it arguing that it was easily one of the worst musicals he had ever had the displeasure to witness.

I had previously written here in May about the subject matter of musicals. The underlying problem with any musical treatment of The Great Gatsby is that the source work dwells on characters who are generally unsympathetic. In order to create a satisfying musical version, something of the nihilism of the source work has to be adapted.

Adaptations of great novels are indeed that, adaptations and historically compromises are made all the time to suit the nature of the medium. Lionel Bart's Oliver! removes vast swathes of the plot to Dickens' Oliver Twist to create his popular masterpiece and Boubil & Schoenberg's epic Les Miserables is still practically a York Notes version of Victor Hugo's classic. In the same way unsympathetic characters are altered to suit a purpose. Sweeney Todd is allowed to slaughter but not mindlessly, so Sondheim assures us that he has a very good motive for doing so.

What The Great Gatsby Musical gave me was a sense of the period, a workable plot and some decent, evocative musical numbers that coloured the piece. It was not by any means perfect and there were vast stretches of dialogue and denouement that screamed out for musical treatment, but as an early draft I felt that the show had legs. If producers Ruby In The Dust think they have a polished piece of musical theatre on their hands then they need to think again. Composer and lyricist Joe Evans needs to go back to the drawing board and take another look at his work and consider the old adage 'Great musicals are not written, they are re-written.'

I think I managed to leave Phil with the impression that I felt that musicals have to be light, nonsense filled with pretty or formulaic characters. I certainly don't think that - but I do feel that writers of new musicals can sometimes ignore the basic elements of structure and characterisation when working in the medium.

The Problem With Musicals

The Off West End Awards, of which I am one of the judges, has always been eager to support new writing. Indeed there are three separate awards available that lay testament to this namely Best New Play, Most Promising New Playwright and Best New Musical. The first two awards have, for the past two years, garnered plenty of nominations but the Best New Musical Category has always been slightly more difficult to fill.

In 2010, Silence! The Musical at Above The Stag, Britain's Got Bhangra at Theatre Royal Stratford East and Porn – The Musical at Theatre503 all made the running with Porn – The Musical taking the trophy. 2011 saw Burlesque at the Jermyn Street win the award, beating off rivals La Ronde at the Rosemary Branch and latecomer Little Women at the Lost Theatre.

This year, at the beginning of August, there was still not a single nomination for Best New Musical posted. The London Fringe is certainly not afraid of musicals and indeed is awash with revivals of classics such as Mack & Mabel, Carousel and the forthcoming Call Me Madam, not to mention countless revivals of operettas from Merrie England to an average of three Pirates of Penzance a year.

If the classics aren’t your thing – no matter how re-imagined - then there are also plenty of contemporary revivals such as Rent, Spring Awakening and The Drowsy Chaperone to pull in punters. However it is not just revivals out there vying for a share of ticket sales. There is also a healthy contingent of premieres of Off-Off Broadway, Off Broadway and even Broadway shows making their first appearance in the UK in tiny theatres above pubs, like the wonderful production of Kander and Ebb’s Curtains recently at the Landor.

No, when it comes to musicals the London Fringe offers more variety than the West End. Sadly it is new musicals with decent runs that we are seeing less and less of. At the judges debate last year, the question of the relevance of the category arose and I pointed out that I felt it was our duty to support new musicals with the same passion as we support new plays. When judging new musicals I tend to take a much broader view of the production. They seldom arrive upon the Fringe as finished, polished pieces of work. I expect them to flawed and judge them more on their potential, more than upon their production values.

By the time I saw Burlesque in November 2011, I was despairing at the dearth of new musicals that had come my way. I had seen Bed and Sofa, 1888, Slay It With Music and La Ronde, with only the latter making enough of an impression for me to concur with its nomination. Then along came Little Women – The Musical in December, with nowhere near as good production values as, say Bed and Sofa, but a far more impressive musical in terms of composition, structure and ultimately popular appeal. Sadly, with 15 days left before judging closed and at only 10 days before Christmas not many people actually saw it.

In For The Kill

In a flurry of keep-fit and theatregoing I have found it difficult to catch up on here. Lame, I know but it’s the only excuse you are going to get from me. I shall start with the shows I have seen over the last couple of weeks and they have been a very mixed bunch, I must say.

Firstly, there was Dracula at the Broadway Studio in Catford. This is, to all intents and purposes, my local theatre. It is the only one I get to by bus – there’s a reason I don’t want to park my bike outside it – and I have seen some very good plays and musicals there including Thom Southerland’s Singing In the Rain and Carousel plus an extremely good Diary of Anne Frank.

Dracula was in problems from the get-go, with dialogue so familiar to us from the countless movie versions that it was difficult not to snicker when Dracula suggests that Jonathan Harker ‘Enter of your own free vill’. It has to be said that John Godber’s adaptation isn’t bad but it does require a good deal more imagination than is shown here.

The following Monday had me at the Landor to see The Glorious Ones, a musical about a troupe of Commedia Dell Arte players in the 12^th century. Not a particularly exciting prospect, The Glorious Ones turns out to be rather sweet, featuring a wonderful score and a rather subtle message. It was also a moment of contemplation for me as I realised the composer and lyricist team - Lynn Ahrens (book & lyrics) and Stephen Flaherty (music) – are probably my favourite writing team today.

When I saw Lucky Stiff a few years ago, I remember I enjoyed it and Ragtime really moved me when I saw it last year. I also enjoyed A Man Of No Importance at the Union two years ago despite the production flaws. Of course it was this team who wrote Some Girls from the musical Once On This Island, a song that obsessed me a couple of years ago after hearing it in Blink Twice sung by Reed Sinclair.

The Moment I Met You....

This weekend I have been on a flying visit to Belfast, no happily the airport outside London I have visited the most. The occasion was Claire McCauley's 40th birthday party, where my presence was something of a surprise - to her at least. I have known Claire now for about five years and in fact, I have been to more Halloween parties with her than I have with either David, her brother or Vince. Claire always enjoys dressing up for a party and I usually relish a challenge with her make-up - Tippi Hedren was a high point and the hilarious inflatable pumpkin costume was the easiest.

I thought the party would be a straightforward affair but of course David had a 1970's theme in mind that was great fun to play up to and I am very pleased to say my Afro stood the test of time. Babysham and Cheese and Pineapple were the order of the day and as usual all the guests, including their mum and dad dressed for the occasion.

Whilst I was part of the surprise for the party I was nothing compared to the real surprise, where David and Vince are taking both Claire and their mother to New York in five weeks time. Tears were shed and cocktails flowed and it was one of those sadly now rare evenings where I got to dance the night away.

David - you are a wonderful brother, son and husband. David and Vince, thank you for a great weekend and enjoy your holiday.

Black, White and Red All Over

Monday night saw (finally) the arrival of the biggest theatrical event of the season - Andrew Keates Black & White Birthday Ball. OK, well maybe not the biggest event of the season but I had bought new trouser for it, so for me it was big-time. It was an opportunity to catch up with lots of people I know and love and despite the last minute change of venue, it was actually rather a fun evening. The pleasure was doubled by the fact that my man came with me, although both of us were quite knackered and had to leave early, ready for an early start. Try to birthday on a weekend in future, Ange - then i'll be up there singing with you!

On the down side, as we made our way to the planned venue on Monday, it suddenly dawned on me that the Archer Street Cocktail Bar was actually where Barcode used to be. Barcode is no longer there and I was rather upset, I have to say. OK I had not been for a while but Barcode, or Barcode Soho as it was later called was my playground of choice not too many years ago. Barcode was were I would go to flirt, dance and indeed I pulled on many a happy and probably drunken occasion. It put me in mind somewhat of the disappearance of so many gay bars in London.

As I mentioned, I was hardly ever a barfly, but I can't help feeling a little sad that so many names from my past are slowly evaporating from the gay landscape..... Barcode, The Coalherne, Bromptons, Kudos Bar (the first gay bar I visited in London) and of course, The Stag. Hopefully Vauxhall will maintain some sense of community and the RVT, Griffin and Eagle will still be fun places to visit in ten years time.

Cycle Route Through Soho

It's been quite a week of opening nights with many of my friends and review colleagues at different shows at practically every night of the week. For my sins, I only really had one show, which I attended in an official capacity and that was A Song Cycle For Soho, downstairs at the Soho Theatre on Thursday.

As many, many of my colleagues in the office will tell you I was not looking forward to this event. Revue shows are a hit-and-miss affair and revue shows of new work such as this have to be particularly special to engage my enthusiasm. Add to this the extraordinary respect artists have occasioned Soho, which when you take a step back and look at objectively, is a particularly vile and increasingly touristy part of London. There is little to romanticise about stepping over a vomiting, drunk, euro-trash after all.

Thankfully the creator of this song cycle, Andrew Brinded wanted to avoid the cliche ridden praise of Soho's less reputable reputation favour of a more left of centre approach. There are a distinct lack of "tarts with hearts", no "runaways" and thankfully very few "cor blimey cockerney accents".

A Soho Song Cycle For Soho is very, very good as you should expect of a revue written by about 20 of the UK's leading musical theatre writers. Witty, poignant without turning schmaltzy and above all entertaining. I have never doubted that there are some very talented composers out there, what there are lacking are some good book writers and to my way of thinking, Brinded is the shining light of this venture an worth keeping an eye on for the future.

On a slightly different note, thanks to the inordinately bad press reception at the Soho, I ended up sitting behind a pillar practically in darkness. This meant that I was unable to check out the programme to see who wrote what as I went along. It turned out that the song I found the least successful in this show was written by none other than Stiles & Drewe - pedestrian, repetitive tosh, I had scrawled in my notes. Ooo-errr

Going Stag

Three years ago as I wrote here, I took my first visit to the Above The Stag Theatre. The new venue, above an established gay bar in Victoria aimed at running a programme of plays, musicals and cabarets of particular interest to the LGBT community. I met the artistic director, Peter Bull who spoke to me of his passion for theatre and his enthusiasm for the new project to succeed. Peter’s programming ethos was refreshingly honest mixing camp cabaret and saucy comedy with serious drama and ambitious musical productions.

Over the next few years ATS went from strength to strength artistically but of equal importance they began to do well commercially. Productions were selling out again and again and runs were having to extend beyond their original listing. Much of the success was down to Peter himself, his unfailing hospitality and not least his canny business sense. As the controversy over the ‘Low Pay, No Pay’ issue echoed around the London fringe, Peter rightly and proudly pointed out that not only did he pay a permanent stage manager, he also paid all his performers.

His team including Tim McArthur, Richard Lambert and writers Jon Bradfield and Martin Hooper plus many, many others all worked together to improve the out-put Above The Stag making it the sell-out success it became. Opening nights Above The Stag became highlights of my reviewing life and whilst I haven’t enjoyed everything at the venue, it has been extremely satisfying to see the ‘Sold Out’ sign outside again and again and again.

Today Peter has announced the imminent closure of both The Stag and it’s precious theatre upstairs. Developers have scheduled the levelling of the building and the bulldozers are due in by the end of March. I doubt very much if the gay community will kick up much of a fuss about The Stag closing down but the closing of its theatre will be a huge loss.

In the last three years I have met so many interesting, funny, fascinating, talented people Above The Stag that I am committed to help them in their search for a new home. In a press release Peter has announced:-

"We are committed to continuing Above The Stag's success, and we therefore urgently need a new home. We would love to hear from property developers, pubs with unused function spaces, or any other property owner who would welcome a resident theatre. We bring a well respected programme, up to date sound and lighting equipment, and a loyal audience. The Stag Pub’s bar takings over Christmas were up 27% thanks to our panto.

"We are also looking for donations to our ATS ‘Moving On Fund’ to help us relocate and cover the costs of interim storage. We have built something of a family at Above The Stag and that includes our enthusiastic audience. What we have achieved over the past 3 years is too valuable to lose, but we need all the help we can get to make sure we find a new home. We want everyone to stay in touch as well so email us via the website or pop in to the pub on Thursday 8 March between 6.30pm and 9pm when we’re saying thank you and goodbye too everyone who has come to and been in our shows. We’re offering a free drink on arrival and there will be a short entertainment at 7.30pm comprising songs from previous shows and maybe a monologue or two. We’re hoping as many faces as possible will be able to call in."

I hope to see you all there and if you know some way to help ATS move on to bigger and better things, then drop by.

Trying My Patience

My final show of this week meant a return visit to the Union Theatre where last Friday I saw the wonderful production of King John, directed by Phil Willmot. This time I was there to see Sasha Regan’s All-Male Patience, the latest in an installment of Gilbert and Sullivan operetta’s that dismiss all soprano and contralto roles for that of young men singing falsetto.

I have made no bones about the fact that have found these productions compromised on several levels. Today, if I see an all-male - or for that matter an all-female - production of anything, I expect to be given a reason why. There is no reason given for the switch in this production, we are simply expected to see boys dressed as girls and accept this as a stylistic choice. Fair enough.

Now the boys sing the score quite well.

You couldn’t mistake them for anything other than a chorus of boys either vocally or visually but they hold their own and with neither amplification nor corsettrey they hammer home the cross-dressing conceit. Then the male chorus arrives and the difference in volume and power is palpable and something of the score is lost. Musically, if you don’t mind compromise then this shouldn’t be a problem.

Personally I have a problem with a production that sacrifices quality for a ‘single joke set up’ in this way. There are scarce moments where cross-dressing sheds any new light on the relationships in Patience and this particular brand of satire sits very awkwardly on what is already an extremely accomplished satirical piece of theatre. Does the cross-dressing make really it more accessible to a modern audience?

What is more, a member of the creative team, when I expressed my concerns offered - “There are notes these boys are singing that a lot of girls only wish they could sing!!”

Let’s face it, how would he know, it’s not like they auditioned any girls for this. Such blind arrogance and ignorance on the matter only go to fan the flames of my argument against this style of production.

Shallow Laughter

Shallow Slumber by Chris Lee has been nominated for three Off West End Award and in my opinion, deservedly so. It has been nominated as Best New Play and for both its actors Amy Cudden and Alexandra Gilbreath. Aside from a few quibbles with the lighting this was a first rate production and yet for the second time this year, I have been to a play which I would be unlikely to recommend to anybody I know.

I hasten to add this has nothing to do with the quality of the piece, it is simply that it is immeasurably bleak, namely infanticide. The subject is honestly handled, truthfully told and well performed. The play was sold out for the rest of it's run but it certainly isn't anything I would cough up the price of a theatre ticket to see.

I suppose in real terms, we all ask different things from the theatre at different times in our lives. At the moment I crave comedy and there is very little new work, except perhaps black comedies out there. Hopefully Jon Bradfield and Martin Hooper, creators of the wonderfully wicked adult pantomimes Above The Stag, will come up trumps with their new pay A Hard Rain, which receives a rehearsed reading on 27th February.

Just For The Record

Having gone from just one show planned as of the beginning this week, it immediately stretched to four including two that had been nominated for Offie's and one student showcase. I shall begin with the tale end of last week and Ezra Axelrod performing live tracks from his debut album. I have to admit I rather liked Ezra, although his preening about in skimpy underwear to tease his target audience was completely unnecessary. Songs From An American Motel is really little more than a live band performing but it's definitely a talent worth having a look at. Sadly it comes with the now ubiquitous self analysis that so many American performers seem to think we are interested in. For the record boys and girls, we usually aren't that bothered.

Tuesday was Valentine's Day so naturally I was doing a little performing of my own although I rather hope that there are no reviews on that online. Not since the final pay-off, anyway. In fact Tuesday was an absolute delight featuring way too much Swarovski, some divine Chateaubriand and a particularly fine chocolate heart from Fortnum & Mason's and no drama whatsoever.

Wednesday featured lots of drama including a visit to the Embassy Theatre at Central School to see the graduates for the Musical Theatre course strut their stuff. In the evening I went along to see Port Authority at the Southwark Playhouse, which I was pleased to see heavily patronised - and for good reason. Ardal O'Hanlon had been nominated for his performance but in fact there were three actors here doing some fine work. The play - don't ask me why it's called Port Authority - gives us three of the seven ages of man, or perhaps I should say "Irishman" all beautifully painted through Conor McPherson's witty, poignant script.

Black Is Definitely Black

Today it is officially the last day of my holiday and as tends to happen with me, I spent much of the time off running around like a blue-arsed fly doing this, that and the other.

Actually much of it has been fairly restful and for five days I neither swam, went to the gym and for one of those days I didn't even leave the flat. In something of a blue-funk of late, I felt that I had to force myself to relax a little bit; try to do some painting; do some cooking and get my head around the new year properly. Hopefully I have come out the other side ready to face the world head on again.

Last night I made a rare visit to the Tara near Wimbledon Village. This tiny, oft forgotten theatre is a little gem of a venue that never really gets much attention outside of Earlsfield although in all honesty, I don't see my self recommending Next Swan Down The River Might Be Black to any of my theatre-going friends. The subject matter, whilst pertinent is far too bleak and lacking in theatre-craft for my personal tastes.

However the venue is lovely, the staff welcoming, the bar staff cute and I would heartily recommend a visit in the future.

Where To Now?

Having just taken a couple of days off to recover I am about to start my Offie responsibilities this week, when on Friday I am off to see King John at the Union. Before that, I am visiting Tara Arts at Earlsfield for Next Swan Down The River Might Be Black and then on Thursday I am at the Leicester Square to see Ezra Axelrod: Scenes from the American Motel.

Nothing if not varied.

Romeo & Juliet

Romeo and Juliet is currently running at the Broadway Studio in Catford. Probably not the best production I have ever seen but certainly not the worst and in fact there are some sweet performances, including the ones I have mentioned in my official review. What did occur to me as I sat listening to the fate of the two star-cross'd lovers unfold, is how I am much less patient with them than usual.

R & J do behave like a couple of spoiled brats and had they simply spoken the truth in the first place there might have been hell to pay from the parents, but neither would have died. Sean suggested and he is probably correct, that I am looking at the story with contemporary eyes and layering onto the story a distinctly modern perspective. This may well be the case but this attitude was no doubt compounded by the relentlessly bleak design accompanied by contemporary costume.

I don't have a problem placing Shakespeare's plays in a modern setting but it has to serve the theme and text. What you get in this production is a bunch of well spoken young lads, knifing each other to verse. Catford's Romeo and Juliet is neither theatrical nor realistic and sitting on the fence in this way is a sign of timorous hands at the helm.

Off West End Encore

For the first time ever I missed the second day of IMATS but the reason was a good one. The second annual Off West End Theatre Awards. Had you been paying the slightest bit of attention to me over the last two years, you will know that I am one of the judges of this event, which views independent productions in London throughout the year and awards the best of them.

This year, Sean and I trudged over to Stratford for brunch in Westfield - Balans for those who might be interested - and then on to the Theatre Royal, Stratford East where Sofie Mason and her team had arranged a wonderful reception for the nominees, sponsors and judges.

Whilst there were no surprises for me as such, I was still desperately excited by the awards and cheered loudly as the nominations and the winners were read out. Of course, I may not have agreed with all the winners but that is the nature of a democratic panel and to be honest, it is never the raging, heated debate you might think.

The Weekend

This weekend saw two major events in my 2012 calendar. The first being the International Make-up Artist Trade Show. Now in its 11th year the show has grown to practically fill the main hall at the Alexandra Palace in North London and as ever I was working on the educational segment of the event. This entails introducing the speakers to the guests and ensuring that they arrive on stage relaxed and ready with all their needs met.

My journey to the venue began at 6.00am and whilst it was freezing cold it was heart-warming to see one of the MAC Cosmetic boys on the Piccadilly Line on the way there. Resplendent in two fox furs to compliment his leather jacket and diamante studded boots and gloves this Piccadilly Line Peacock must have woken at at least 4.00am to have applied the full, Boy-George eye make-up including immaculately arched eyebrows. The MAC crowd always make me smile as somehow their passion for individualism renders them to all look the same.

Over the years I have had the privilege of meeting hundreds of artists at IMATS and they remain a fascinating and disparate group of people from salon workers keen to pick up the latest trends to Academy Award winning designers ready to share their knowledge with keen students. IMATS attracts an eclectic mix from the monster-makers looking at the latest innovations in silicone moulds to lipstick divas of either sex. Make-up appears to be the great leveller. It is also true that I have seen LOTS of make-up designs over the years so it is always reassuring to notice pieces that still have a spark of originality about them.

The piece below kept catching my eye - and not for the reasons you are thinking. I felt that this body paint used an interesting colour palette reflecting old tattoos and features amusing and detailed design. The artist was Ava Belle.

The current downside of IMATS is that in terms of location, it is in the arse end of nowhere. You are left to the mercy of public transport and there is nowhere close by to escape to for lunch or a drink after the show, away from the crowd. This year, I had to head off quickly anyway, as I was meeting Sean back in Crystal Palace and in the way I chatted briefly to an IMATS visitor as she was walking to the station. Apparently she had travelled for the weekend from Ghana, where she is a make-up artist - London being the nearest big trade show to her country. Wow! Suddenly Crystal Palace didn't seem so far away after all.

What's Occuring?

The period between October and February are filled with looming deadlines at the paper including the Christmas Issues, seasonal shows and the annual make-up and costume feature that precedes the International Make-up Artist Trade Show. Add to this the Off-West End Awards and a personal life and you are close to understanding the long space between a languid weekend in Belfast that already seems light years away and IMATS on February 4.

Please understand that I am not complaining, by any stretch of the imagination. I love the work I do and feel honoured at the opportunities I have been given over the last few years. It is just at this time of the year I usually begin to loose focus and have to gather my thoughts before heading forward. I suppose that this is the real time for a holiday and in fact, I have booked a few days off.

I shall try to make the most of it, although it now contains two feature deadlines, a visit to the Landor to see Lucky Stiff, a visit to Catford to see Romeo & Juliet, the IMATS show and the Off-West End Awards Ceremony.

Hopefully I will be able to get some painting done too.....

My Lips Are Sealed

Last Thursday saw the judging of the Off West End Awards, where myself and several of London's leading theatre critics got together to whittle down the long list to discover the finalists and indeed winners for 2011. Locked in a room with nothing but bottomless coffee and Smarties for sustenance (Cheers, Diana!) we pondered a year in theatre and choose what I consider to be a particularly valid list of names and shows.

The results have actually been embargoed until 26th January, where The Stage Newspaper will break the news. I believe there are quite a few surprises in there and I am now looking forward to the award ceremony at the Theatre Royal Stratford East. In the meantime, congratulations to all those who made the short list and good luck for February 5th.

I'll Sit This One Out, Thank You!

So far, I had managed to avoid Dreamboats and Petticoats, which had done the rounds of the provinces and finally landed in the West End at several venues including the Savoy and the Playhouse. Karaoke style musicals are a bit of a hit-and-miss affair at the best of times and this week I witnessed the birth of another. Save The Last Dance For Me by Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran uses the music of Pomus and Shuman to colour the simple tale of a holiday romance between a schoolgirl and an American GI. Amiable enough, producer/director Bill Kenwright has employed a young cast, many of whom fail to exhibit the emotional maturity vital to handle themes of race and sex. In the casts defense the story takes a very definate second place to the songs, which interrupt the narrative with a monotonous regularity.

Save The Last Dance For Me features some particularly well arranged versions of classic pop songs but an undernourished libretto and so-so acting let the side down.

Glitter And Be Gay

It seems strange to imagine that I wrote this whilst on my way home from Sean's other weekend. The power of the iPad I suppose and the joy of a relatively empty train from Croydon. This week has seen the beginning of my review year with pithy first two plays having a gay theme. Firstly, the private life of playwright Terrence Rattigan was examined in The Art Of Concealment by Giles Cole at the Jermyn Street Theatre and secondly TV chat show hell reared it's ugly head in Sleeping With Straight Men by Ronnie Larsen at the ATS.

Both plays are somewhat flawed, fleshing out the characters and situations in too broad strokes. Each play contained several unexplored plot opportunities and the Rattigan biog had at least one character who was decidedly superfluous to requirements. The questions raises its ugly head of which of the two I preferred. By far and away it was Sleeping With Straight Men.

The company Above The Stag created a really good atmosphere with their play, which could also boast a much more refined design element - certainly with David Shields the design at ATS has improved greatly. The broadness of the drama was matched by some thoroughly OTT performances that enhanced the entertainment value of the piece rather than working against it.

For me the Rattigan play should have known better. Exposition abounded with moments of clunky dialogue and whilst there seemed to be plenty of good ideas bouncing around, none of them were explored deeply enough. There was however a particularly absorbing performance from Charlie Hollway as Rattigan's lover Michael.

Back To The Grindstone

My first week back at work has not been too bad all things considered although I couldn't wait for a bit of "me" time by Thursday. With IMATS at the beginning of February, the OFFIES and changing my role at the office this month is going to be pretty hectic. My first swim of the year on Tuesday morning wasn't too bad at all and I cycled to work and back AND got to the gym twice already. I am aiming to go to the gym at least 3 times a week and to swim a minimum of 10k per week. I have also scheduled for what the gym people call a RE-FOCUS, which is where I should imagine they will explain to me where I am going wrong. I was thinking that if I could keep this momentum up during my busiest period, then hopefully I might be able to top it up later. Who knows?

Next week, I start back with my reviewing with The Art of Concealment at Jermyn Street followed by Sleeping With Straight Men at Above The Stag. I am rather looking forward to both of them as well as seeing old friends for the first time in the New Year.

In the meantime, here is a snap I took on the way through Crystal Palace Park this morning on my way to the train. The park continues to astound me after living here for nearly two years.

Twenty Twelve

OK, so here we are at the beginning of a New Year. Some people can be very cynical about giving themselves goals - achievable or otherwise - at the beginning of the year. I tend to not be one of those people. Because my life both personal and professional, tends to lack formal structure simple goals help me to focus. Last year I had about 12 resolutions of which I feel I completed about 4 or 5. I had forgotten that lifting myself from the pool was one of them - now it's second nature! I gave up on swimming in all the pools on my list - I simply didn't have the time! So here are my resolutions for 2012:-

Drink more water

Make more of an effort with the blog and social networking*

Maximise my exercise regime - gym, swim and cycle.

Make more time for painting.

Assist with a charity.

Sell things on EBay*

Not be cynical about the Olympic Games in London

* hopefully all much easier on my new iPad

So a Happy New Year, one and all and here's to a riveting twenty-twelve!