Just a few friends... and a kiss!

Joan Rivers, Sonny Bono, James Darren, Dionne Warwick, Debbie Reynolds and Liberace help Tom Jones celebrate his 34th birthday. Time flies...

It's the legendary Welsh belter Sir Tom Jones' 85th birthday!

I did a major tribute to the great man for his 80th - over at my Give 'em the old Razzle Dazzle blog - but here's just one classic from his long repertoire, by way of a celebration [pertinent, as it would also have been The Purple One Prince's birthday]:

Tom Jones - Kiss

Many happy returns, Sir Tom Jones OBE (born Thomas John Woodward, 7th June 1940)

Flicka

The very lovely mezzo-soprano Frederica "Flicka" von Stade is 80 years old today!

As is the wont with mezzo-sopranos, she was never destined to be as great a household name as her soprano contemporaries such as Kiri Te Kanawa, Renee Fleming or Mirella Freni, but she has remained one of the greatest "opera-lovers' favourite opera singers" for decades, nonetheless.

Indeed, the Madam and I both adore her [both for her operatic splendour and her "crossover" stuff] - and here are just a few reasons why:

Frederica Von Stade - Song to the Moon [Rusalka, Dvorak]

[Yes - I have featured this song, and Miss Von Stade, before over at Give 'em the old Razzle Dazzle]

Frederica Von Stade - Baïlèro [Chants d'Auvergne, Canteloube]

Frederica von Stade, Sylvia McNair and Tyne Daly sing Rodgers & Hart

Many happy returns, Frederica von Stade (born 1st June 1945)

Weekend Reading

Ever felt trapped?

"You can never accuse Stephen Sondheim of being boring in his lifetime, and Here We Are is a fitting addition to his legacy. Innovatively realised and refreshing in its nature, I’m not sure this is one room I’d want to be stuck in for days at a time but it is certainly a room I'd gladly visit multiple times." - Daz Gale, All That Dazzles

We are inclined to agree.

The night before our jaunt to Spain last week, Madam Arcati, Hils, History Boy and I ventured off to see the wildly-anticipated UK premiere of the posthumously-completed final musical work by the much-missed Stephen Sondheim Here We Are in the imposing surroundings of the National Theatre.

When talking about the genius who thought nothing of making musicals from such oddly-disparate stories as Ingmar Bergman's Smiles of a Summer Night [A Little Night Music], the Victorian "Penny Dreadful" anti-hero Sweeney Todd, Grimm's fairy tales [Into The Woods] or a work by Aristophanes [The Frogs], it was no great surprise that this work was largely adapted (by playwright David Ives) from not one, but two surrealist films by avant-garde producer Luis Buñuel [The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie and The Exterminating Angel]. And why not, indeed?

As one might expect, given its source material, this is not a "conventional" musical by any stretch of the imagination - but then again, Sondheim didn't do many of those anyway. The first act introduces us to the main cast of characters, all of them spoilt nouveau riche types - self-obsessed hedge-fund billionaire Leo (Rory Kinnear), his not-quite-with-it wife Marianne (the brilliant Jane Krakowski), her sister and pseudo-anarchist Fritz (Chumisa Dornford-May), and their friends, shouty interior designer Claudia (Martha Plimpton), her plastic surgeon husband Paul (Jesse Tyler Ferguson) and the ambassador of "Moranda", Raffael (Paulo Szot) - who venture out to seek a restaurant to have brunch. That venture is repeatedly (and farcically) doomed to failure. The inaccurately-named "Café Everything" has absolutely no food or drink on offer - which leads to a profuse (and hilarious) musical apology from its waiter (the mesmerising Denis O'Hare):

Denis O'Hare - Waiter's Song [Here We Are (Original Cast Recording)]

The torture doesn't end there, of course. At the "French deconstructivist" restaurant Bistro à la Mode, the funeral of the chef is taking place - cue the wonderful Tracie Bennett as that emporium's maître d', singing, à la Piaf, possibly the show's best number:

Tracie Bennett - It Is What It Is [Here We Are (Original Cast Recording)]

In their final attempt to get that elusive brunch (by now it's heading for dinner time), at Italian brasserie Osteria Zeno, their longed-for "meal" is interrupted by an army colonel (Cameron Johnson) and soldier (the gorgeous Richard Fleeshman)...

Mr Fleeshman in the flesh

...who are concerned that an anarchist overthrow of society is imminent (in which, behind the scenes, Fitz has been naively involved, by funding an organisation with the not-so-subtle acronym of PRADA), and all the sumptuous dishes served turn out to be plastic. At this point the show "breaks the third wall" - and as the spotlight turns on the audience, the cast appear mesmerised (especially Marianne) and flustered. This is when the conceit of the plot dawned on us (if not on the characters on stage): these people are trapped inside their own play! That surreal moment is over almost as soon as it began, when the ambassador makes one final suggestion - they should all go and eat at his embassy instead...

All this takes place on a stark white stage, lined by mirrors (appropriate for the vanity of the characters) and occasionally punctuated by the neon marquees of the various purported eateries, which is a superlative design idea by set designer David Zinn. As is the choreography (by Sam Pinkleton) - especially the way that in the gaps between attempts to eat, the whole cast repeatedly lines up (a bit like an earlier Sondheim show Assassins), ostensibly to show that they are travelling by car, but in effect it's rather wonderful - especially when any one of them tries to "break ranks", and was unable to cross an invisible barrier...

If you think all that's surreal enough, part one concludes with the arrival of a bishop (Harry Hadden-Paton) at the door, in full regalia, seeking alternative employment!

Part 2 opens within the grand setting of the embassy's salon, our protagonists suitably sated and relaxing in armchairs or chaises. Happy at last? I wouldn't bet on it. The manservant (Denis O'Hare again - he and Tracie Bennett play every waiter/servant role in the whole thing, and masterfully hold it all together as a result) turns out to be the enigmatic "Inferno", head of PRADA - and the feared incursion seems to be taking place outside, as explosions are heard. The gang, on trying to leave, find they are perpetually making excuses not to do so and decide to bed down in situ. The bishop turns out to be a foot-fetishist. Fitz - who had previously told everyone she was gay (probably for attention) - has a romantic relationship with the soldier (even disappearing for a shag in a cupboard). The piano the bishop is playing stops working. There is no water until Ms Bennett's mute, hunched maid bursts a (magical?) pipe. They resort to eating the books for sustenance. In the middle of the room (on day four or five; nobody's quite sure) it starts to snow - oh yes, and Marianne dances for some incomprehensible reason with a bear!

And the dénouement of all this? Marianne suddenly realises that they had somehow, somewhere, missed a line of this nightmarish play. When they go backwards, and recite all their recent lines in the correct order, strangely they find themselves free - and once again on their travels, seeking food.

This mind-boggling musical-cum-play (as is fitting since Sondheim never finished it, the songs peter out early in the second half), directed by Tony-award winner Joe Mantello, is not for the faint-hearted, admittedly - you're not going to find yourself tapping your toes or humming the tunes when you leave - but as a lasting final legacy to Sondheim it works brilliantly. We absolutely loved every crazy moment of it!

Here We Are is playing at the Lyttelton Theatre at the National Theatre complex until 28th June 2025.

Pickled tink!

From a comprehensive article by her biographer Dr Christopher Fifield [in 2013]:

Kathleen Ferrier’s life was short at 41 years, her career ridiculously so at a mere ten of them. As if sensing this brevity, the Great Scheme of Life ensured that her climb to the top of her profession was taken at breakneck speed. In her own words she went "from Carlisle to Covent Garden within five years. Lucky Kaff!"

Sixty years after her death she remains an iconic figure to a generation of ‘a certain age’ which recalls both its own and its parents’ deeply felt and enduring love of her voice. Kathleen’s life is full of surprises for the researcher, two of them strikingly so. The first is that her career lasted no more than a decade from 1943 until 1953 and the other is that it was as a pianist that she started out in music rather than as a singer...

Despite leaving school at fourteen, Kathleen Ferrier was highly intelligent. She had charm and charisma, she radiated happiness and enthusiasm and was witty, very funny, clever and spoke or wrote to the point as one would expect of a Lancastrian. She loved Spoonerisms (‘pickled tink’, ‘ruddy blush’, ‘woody blunders’) or music such as ‘On cooking the first hero in spring’ by Delius or ‘Bad Mess’ by Britten, while ‘O rust in the Lard’ and ‘Land of soap and water’ speak for themselves. She had a wicked sense of humour (Britten described her as ‘noble and naughty’):

There was a young lady of Nantes
Très chic, jolie, élégante,
But her hole was so small
She was no good at all
Except for la plume de ma tante!

...The list of conductors with whom Kathleen worked is impressive: Ernest Ansermet, Sir John Barbirolli, Eduard van Beinum, Sir Adrian Boult, Warwick Braithwaite, Charles Bruck, Fritz Busch, Basil Cameron, Albert Coates, Meredith Davies, Issay Dobrowen, Georges Enesco, Walter Goehr, Reginald Goodall, Charles Groves, Julius Harrison, Reginald Jacques, Herbert von Karajan, Erich Kleiber, Otto Klemperer, Clemens Krauss, Josef Krips, Rafael Kubelik, Herbert Menges, Maurice Miles, Pierre Monteux, Boyd Neel, Karl Rankl, Clarence Raybould, Fritz Reiner, Stanford Robinson, Hugo Rignold, Sir Malcolm Sargent, Carl Schuricht, Rudolf Schwarz, Fritz Stiedry, Walter Susskind, George Szell, Erik Tuxen and Bruno Walter.

Such was her meteoric rise to fame that by 1946 she was pleading with her agent to slow down bookings:

"I’m sorry but I would rather you kept July free as well as June and August. I think I would rather give Liverpool a rest as I have been so much and have run out of a change of frock (not to mention repertoire)!

"I’m very sorry but I shall have to return this contract for Twickenham. I can’t possibly do five recitals running, especially with the Third Programme at the end of the five with eight new songs I haven’t seen yet!

"Please, please ask me before booking any more dates. Having just done seven concerts in six days in six different towns, am feeling more than usually weary, not having recovered from travelling from Stoke to Bradford in five different trains, starting at 9.26am, catching all the right connections and arriving late for rehearsal with Dr Sargent and still lunch-less! It isn’t possible to sing well at this rate."

Her constant touring took a toll on her health, and it was when she went to her doctor in 1951 that she received a diagnosis of malignant breast cancer:

During the periods when she was not in hospital she managed to fulfil her engagements with positive fortitude. "Bloody backache" she’d complain. For some time she had complained of arthritic pain in her upper body and of course the word ‘cancer’ was never mentioned. "I am still rheumaticky from the neck down – makes me feel my age, ducks!!". The post-mastectomy letters referred to:

"A bump on mi busto. I haven’t had a bath for over six weeks! – I don’t arf pong! I’m very lop-sided at the top but am camouflaging with great taste and delicacy!! I hope the audience took my groans for passion!!"

She was forty-one years old when she died in 1953, but was still performing almost to the end when she became too ill to do so. In the ten years or so of fame which were granted her she achieved more than most singers achieve in a lifetime. In tribute Bruno Walter said that the greatest privileges in his life were to have known and worked with Kathleen Ferrier and Gustav Mahler – in that order.

Here is a mere soupçon of her talent:

Kathleen Ferrier - Blow The Wind Southerly

Kathleen Ferrier - Ombra mai fù [Handel: Serse, 1949]

Kathleen Ferrier CBE (22nd April 1912 – 8th October 1953)

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Facrumpsing around

Morticia would have been 95 years old today...

"I like men. I like the sound of their voices, the way they think. They're more sensitive than women. With a woman, everything is either this or that, black or white. But a man can see shades of grey. That's what I call being sensitive."

"Morticia was the perfect role for me because my sense of humour is just slightly off-centre."

"I didn’t have kids and I need this. I need to work. When I work, I feel better. When I work, I can do anything. When I’m not working, I’m facrumpsing around like an old biddy, snarling at everything. This, I like. I understand it. It’s my life."

"I'm in love with everything about show business. The only thing that ever came easy to me in life has been acting."

Facts:

• Miss Jones was naturally blonde.
• Her first husband was Aaron Spelling, later famous as the producer of glossy telly series such as Charlie's Angels, The Love Boat, Hart to Hart and Dynasty.
• She surprisingly didn't want to kiss Elvis Presley when she co-starred with him in King Creole because she had a fever.
• Despite appearing on screen for only eight minutes, she was nominated for an Oscar for her performance in The Bachelor Party.
• The blatant sexual chemistry between Morticia and Gomez in The Addams Family caused a moral outrage in conservative America.
• Surprisingly, The Addams Family only ran for two years before being cancelled by the TV network.
• When the show ended, the producers gifted Carolyn Jones with Morticia's oval-backed wicker chair as a memento; she kept it in her bedroom for the rest of her life - the chair itself was originally a prop from From Here to Eternity, in which she was due to play prostitute Alma Burke, but became ill before filming and lost the role to Donna Reed.

Carolyn Sue Jones (28th April 1930 – 3rd August 1983)

All hail!

I think today should be...

...a "Say Something Hat" day, don't you?

... and Ladies Day at the Grand National brought out some splendid ones!