Neil O'Shea's one-man show An Evening with Great Irish Writers is reviewed by Gerry Colgan, while Sara Keating was at the Pavilion Theatre for Siamsa Tire's production of Clann Lir
An Evening with Great Irish Writers. Andrews Lane Studio, Dublin
Neil O'Shea's one-man show is in a direct line of descent from the great Micheál MacLiammóir's I Must Be Talking to My Friends, a tribute to Irish writers of distinction woven into a theatrical entertainment.
There is obviously an abundance of material for the actor to choose from, and the choice here is mostly from established classics of literature and stage. This guarantees quality but forfeits some novelty, as the selections are mostly well-known, certainly to Irish audiences. But that, on reflection, may not apply to the relatively young, in which case they are - together with summer visitors, of course - in for a treat.
The performance begins with the poem by Oliver Goldsmith that ends "The dog it was that died", followed by Jonathan Swift's quirky Resolutions When I Come to Be Old. Oscar Wilde gets a decent innings with three of his works - including The Importance of Being Earnest - mined by our host, offering him the opportunity to spread his acting wings. His impersonation of Lady Bracknell belabouring Jack Worthing over the circumstances of his birth and station is a delightful pastiche.
Neil O'Shea has a light baritone voice of great flexibility, ideally suited to the delivery of poems by WB Yeats, Gerard Manley Hopkins and Seamus Heaney. He is also good with accents, which enables him to extract a deal of fun from comic works by Percy French, Flann O'Brien, Sean O'Casey, JM Synge and G B Shaw. The salute to James Joyce, a moving excerpt from Portrait of the Artist, is beautifully rendered.
The intimate venue, simply furnished and well lit by Noel Cummins, serves as a kind of modern salon in which actor and audience co-exist in easy harmony. - Gerry Colgan
Runs until Aug 12
Clann Lir. Pavilion Theatre, Dún Laoghaire
Clann Lir, produced by Siamsa Tíre, the National Folk Theatre of Ireland, is just one production in the theatre's extensive repertoire, which is designed to recreate Irish heritage and traditions on the contemporary stage. But Clann Lir is no Riverdance reinvention of traditional Irish culture for the 21st century; it is the story of The Children of Lir through traditional Irish music and dance.
The production unfolds around five mobile ogham stones, as a 17-strong cast of children and adults enacts the tragic story of the four beautiful children of Lir, who find themselves transformed into swans by their evil stepmother.
This aspect of the story is played out wordlessly to music in a pantomime style, but as the transformation from child to swan takes place, the choreography - the strongest element of the production - comes into its own. The swans growth and flight is evoked by the contrast between an evocative score against absolute silence and the compelling crescendo created by the movement of the dancers' feet against the floor, which marks the beginning of the swans journey away from their homeland.
In most popular versions of the myth, this is where the story ends, but the short second half of the performance reminds us of the early Christian beginnings of the Irish mythological saga, as a holy hermit releases the cursed children by baptising them, ushering in the New Christian Age.
There is no programme from which to identify designers, musicians, choreographers, directors, or performers, but all of these production elements are strong.
Even so, there is something unsatisfying about the evening's presentation, and it is difficult to imagine what the target audience might be. The production stretches itself over 75 minutes, without enough variation or drama or spectacle to hold an adult audience's attention for quite so long, while a smattering of children, up past their bedtime, seem very confused, and in the absence of any dialogue on stage create their own.
However, a crowd of Americans applaud passionately and buy CDs for €20 in the foyer on their way out the door, suggesting that, despite the company's best intentions, the tourist thirst for an authentic holy Celtic homeland might be Clann Lir's prime attraction. - Sara Keating
Runs until Saturday
