Irish Times critics review Disney on Ice at the Point Theatre, Buicke, Byrom, Seaver, RTÉCO/Austin at the NCH and Jane Siberry at Whelan's also in Dublin
Disney on Ice
Point Theatre, Dublin
Second star to the right and straight on till morning! Disney on Ice opened to the whirring of hand-held illuminated windmills and the scattered applause of small children with Dalmatian masks on their well-brushed heads. Assuming you have remortgaged to pay for the merchandising and cashed in your SSIA for an ice cream, you're in for an engaging if somewhat long slice of "family entertainment".
The show opens with Mickey, Minnie and friends on vacation in "jolly olde London". Suddenly the massive ice rink is swirling with pearly kings and beefeaters, and before you can say "give us your dosh, me ol' China", Peter Pan, Wendy and her pyjama'ed siblings are flying over the audience invisibly attached to a crane arm.
The vacation unfolds to include scenes from 101 Dalmatians, The Little Mermaid, and finally Lilo and Stitch. Along the way the audience are treated to some spectacular "numbers": a swashbuckling, fantastically costumed pirate dance; a wonderfully leggy Cruella De Ville, who cuts up the ice with her malevolent solo surrounded by hundreds of monochrome puppies; a couple of magical giant jellyfish that float above a sea of starfish; and a blow-up sea witch the size of a small republic.
The show works; between the almost faultless choreography, a familiar score featuring favourite songs from the various Disney movies, some Elvis for the ageing parents, inventive lighting and lots of bubbles, this show cannot fail to entertain. And Disney does Disney with military precision, the athleticism and skill of the skaters, matched by their very white teeth, their solid wigs and their waxed torsos, leaves one feeling almost industrially entertained.
"Ohana" as Lilo says, as the sleepy audience prepare to vacate the premises and once again circumnavigate the merchandise - which in Disney speak means "no one is allowed to get left behind". Enjoy.
Runs until Apr 9
Hilary Fannin
Buicke, Byrom, Seaver, RTÉCO/Austin
NCH, Dublin
Bernstein - Candide Overture, West Side Story Suite No 1. Copland - Clarinet Concerto, Appalachian Spring.
The RTÉ Concert Orchestra concluded its two-part mini-series - The Great American Dream - with music by Leonard Bernstein and Aaron Copland.
Principal clarinettist Michael Seaver was the persuasive soloist in Copland's concerto, commissioned by "King of Swing" Benny Goodman, who gave the premiere in 1950. Seaver used a cool, languid tone to capture the Satie-esque tranquillity and what Copland-biographer Philip Ramey described as sadness without sentimentality in the first movement. The technical challenges of the wide-ranging cadenza seemed a piece of cake in Seaver's fingers.
Christopher Austin brought out more of the second movement's spiky severity than its jazz accent, and he couldn't coax the same seamless ensemble from the violins as he had in Bernstein's flying Candide Overture.
There was more Bernstein after the interval with the young singers Paul Byrom, tenor, and Mairéad Buicke, soprano, giving nicely credible performances as Tony and Maria in love songs from West Side Story.
Copland's concert suite from his 1944 ballet score Appalachian Spring is music that could be from nowhere else but America. It was Copland who established, perhaps most notably in this work, an orchestral sound that conveyed an unmistakable sense of America's vast, open spaces and of the courage and optimism bound up in the pioneer spirit. It's a warm, pastoral style that spawned countless imitations - chiefly in Hollywood film scores - though few with the depth and potency of the original, which is a true American classic.
Austin and the Concert Orchestra succeeded in tapping into this spirit and style, from the opening's serene and shimmering Pennsylvania sunrise to the hints of hoedowns and to the good-humoured variations on the Shaker hymn Simple Gifts with solos for flute, clarinet and oboe, all well taken.
Copland paints a romantic, idealised picture. But in the present day, when the current US administration keeps earning the country so much bad press, it's good to hear music that so readily evokes things that are great about America.
Michael Dungan
Jane Siberry
Whelan's, Dublin
Cult Canadian singer Jane Siberry has been occupying a position out of the mainstream for 25 years now, despite earning regular comparisons with big-selling singers such as Tori Amos, Kate Bush and compatriot kd lang. Since leaving the major labels to go entirely independent with her own label Sheeba 10 years ago, she has embraced online downloads, even going so far as to place her faith in people's better nature by allowing them to pay whatever price they feel comfortable with for her albums. That says a lot about Siberry's attitude to art and life, and shows more vision than all the record company executives she no longer helps support.
Her entrance onstage, reciting poetry to the recorded sounds of birds and animals, is almost a pastiche of a performance artist. It is hard to know how ironic Siberry was actually trying to be here, but given that she later demonstrates a wry sense of humour (for instance, gleefully pointing out that Britney Spears is an anagram of Presbyterians), one can only hope tongue was at least pointing towards cheek.
That said, her songs are littered with tropes about the wonders of nature, peace, love, childhood innocence and spirituality. Such New-Age sincerity will always raise an eyebrow amongst the more cynical, not helped by lines forced to scan in the manner of an improv comedian struggling to get to the punchline by the end of the beat.
The style was probably intended to evoke a stream of consciousness, but the effect was frequently grating.
A defiantly free spirit, Siberry soon won over the audience with her sensuous voice, caressing the lyrics of songs such as Calling All Angels, the gorgeous Anytime and even Handel's I Know That My Redeemer Liveth. Supported only by her own guitar playing and occasionally pre-recorded backing music, it is Siberry's strong voice that separates her from many singer-songwriters.
Unfortunately, though, while her songs are uncommercial, as she herself points out, many are all too predictable in structure and lyrical content, especially in comparison with peers such as Laurie Anderson or Kate Bush. Despite Siberry's wilful, endearing quirkiness, this disappointing conventionalism ultimately lets her down.
Davin O'Dwyer
