Reviewed today are Music in Great Irish Houses at Kilruddery, Bray, Three Sisters at the New Theatre, Dublin  and Megan Eustace's exhibition Cleave at the Fenton Galley, Cork

Music in Great Irish Houses: Oppert, Saitkoulov

Killruddery House, Bray

Kodály - Cello Sonata Op 4.

Liszt - Piano Sonata in B minor.

Grieg - Cello Sonata

This concert, in the Victorian conservatory of Killruddery House, was on all fronts difficult to fathom. The programme was unusual: Liszt's great B-minor sonata for solo piano framed by two altogether less frequently heard sonatas for cello and piano, by Kodály and Grieg.

The duo offerings were strange for the weakness of tone displayed on this occasion by the Parisian cellist Claire Oppert, who, even with the piano lid on its shortest stick, was frequently hard to hear over the playing of her Tatar partner, Roustem Saitkoulov. And under pressure, it has to be said, the tone that could be heard, and the manner of its delivery, often sounded uningratiating.

Saitkoulov's vision of the Liszt sonata seems to be that it is some sort of virtuoso étude. But the essence of virtuosity is not to be found in the sort of recklessness he presented. Speed, volume, flying octaves and thundering chords are of little interest in themselves.

Liszt's piano writing does, of course, litter a pianist's path with lurid temptations to overdo things, to rush and bluster, to linger and sentimentalise.

It is, however, as Saitkoulov's playing so thoroughly demonstrated, of little or no benefit to Liszt or anyone else when performers favour an approach of ramped-up rodomontade rather than one balanced through musical consideration and technical control.

Michael Dervan

Three Sisters

New Theatre, Dublin

The magic of Chekhov's plays lies in the mood they create, suffused with a perceptive melancholy that empathises with the frustrated, lonely lives of the characters. To re-create this fully on stage is a delicate operation, requiring acting of the highest calibre and clued-in direction. It is not an easy task.

This production of Three Sisters, by the Red Dress company, does not reach the potential heights, although it finds some felicitous moments during the attempted ascent. The acting is something of a mixed bag, and too often it jars on the sensibilities of the roles and of their observers.

Illusion, critical here, becomes a fleeting, now-you-see-it-now-you-don't affair. It is a beautifully written play, and despite the longueurs in this three-hour production, it shines occasionally through the production's deficiencies. Bibbi Larsson's sister Olga is a wonderful realisation of the unselfish woman who sees her life, and those of her beloved family, as failures, and doesn't understand why. All the characters are, indeed, living in a winter of the soul, unable to remember what summer was like.

Hanging over them like a death sentence is the Doctor's mantra that it really doesn't matter: his defence against life's hurts and failures. Another strong performance comes from Lenny Hayden as Vershinin, the army officer unhappily married to a suicidal wife, who has a brief affair with sister Masha, who is in flight from her devoted husband, played with competence by John O'Donoghue. Other performances might have been more effective were it not for incongruities of appearance and accent.

The disciplined direction by Rayla Tadjimatova makes the best of the acting talents at her disposal, achieving enough to make the evening a worthwhile investment of time and attention. An innovative touch lies in the introduction of three musicians, who sit at the side of the small stage. Their mood music distracts from the main proceedings, however, and jars in an ending that tends towards climax rather than a dying fall.

Gerry Colgan

Runs until Saturday

Megan Eustace: Cleave

Fenton Gallery, Cork

This collection of watercolours and drawings by Megan Eustace is centred on skilful and sensitive study of the human figure.

The manner in which she approaches this singular subject can vary, with the standout mode being the spontaneous execution of imagery, where paint is applied with such explosive vigour that it must still be wet before the model has even had time to draw breath.

In Pink Watermark 1, for example, a squatting female figure in monochrome is described quite realistically, showing the indentation of the spine, the torsion of muscle and the distribution of weight on this precariously posed body.

But the paint is applied as if by osmosis, an accidental spillage that happened to resemble a figure, such is the deftness of the artist's brush.

The accuracy of rendering finds its apogee in the three mixed-media drawings that display a full complement of tonal rendering.

These concentrate on the opposition between light and shadow and bring a sculptural quality to the drawings. And although these appear near photographic, closer viewing shows that the use of line and tone is expressed loosely, with parts of the figure left unfinished.

Furthermore, peripheral doodles and staining all conspire against any purist aesthetic stifling the work.

The classical elegance of many of the poses - influenced in part by study of the old masters - is offset more dramatically in other works that wilfully distort or exaggerate the form.

This appears to be accomplished through the use of the blind drawing technique, according to which the artist does not actually look at the page while drawing.

Throughout, there is a commanding use of line and composition that helps revitalise this most elevated of fine-art genres within a contemporary setting.

Mark Ewart

Runs until Saturday