Reviews of The Words Upon The Window Pane by the Dublin Lyric Players and the NSO.
The Words Upon The Window Pane, National Library of Ireland
The Dublin Lyric Players continue their series of plays by WB Yeats with one that remains an accessible melange of literary history, the occult and crafted words. The story is built around a séance, arranged by a spiritualist group who pay a medium to make contact with the dead. The clients include a sceptic there to debunk the occasion if he can. Recent sessions have been interrupted by an aggressive spirit, and it now transpires that the intruder is Jonathan Swift, reliving scenes from his life with Vanessa and Stella.
There was once a connection between Stella and the old house, and a poem to her lover that she scratched on a window is still there. The sceptic is a student of Swift, and his interest is aroused as he recognises in the words transmitted by the medium some authentic references. He assumes, however, that she has cleverly woven them into her act. The séance ends inconclusively, but there is a final surprise to close the proceedings on a startling note.
As a stand-alone piece of theatre, the play would be something of a melodramatic curiosity, but it is not, of course, isolated from the sweep of Irish theatre. The author retains an inherent interest, and his skewed view of the great Dean Swift toward the end of life, beset by sickness and madness, is a cogent one. The actors, directed by Conor O'Malley, are more than competent individually, but have yet to blend their efforts to maximum effect. This was a play of significance in its day, not often seen now, and still a profitable way to spend 40 lunchtime minutes. Runs at 1.10pm on Jan 19, 20, 23, 24, 26. Gerry Colgan
RTÉ NSO/MacKay, NCH, Dublin
RTÉ's annual contemporary music series Horizons gives Irish composers an enviable opportunity of presenting their own and other people's work. There was quite a crowd at the first concert of this year's series, with the NSO under Brian MacKay. The music was selected by Antrim-born composer and music educationalist Elaine Agnew, and included her two pieces for full orchestra.
Though the spectres of two early 20th-century orchestral classics stalked the programme, in neither case was the sense of déjà entendu unwelcome. The polyphonic opening of Lutoslawski's imposing Musique funèbre, which commemorates Bartók, is an overt though profoundly respectful reference to the latter's Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta.
And with Straight to the Point, Agnew joins the countless modern composers for whom a certain indebtedness to Stravinsky's seminal ballet score The Rite of Spring has proved irresistible. There are, however, new and quasi-electronic sounds in its cadenza for harp and percussion, the results of an improvisation workshop with members of the Ulster Youth Orchestra.
Agnew's Slasp likewise owes its origins to an educational project. Its nonsense-word title derives from a compilation poem about stones by primary school pupils from Co Derry. Stone-related figures of speech form a kind of extra-musical agenda for the composition. On the strictly musical agenda there's a lot of tuned percussion, the woodwinds are heard predominately in solos rather than in combinations, and the brass are aggressive.
The pace is stately, and sustained notes, particularly in the strings, contribute to a pervading massiveness. Tuned percussion features too in Elena Kats-Chernin's Heaven is Closed, a grimy allegro blending elements of tango and bossa nova.
Despite some enjoyably cinematic touches, its almost incessant eight-bar phrases and prodigal orchestration soon become turgid. Here especially, less would have been more. Andrew Johnstone