Sunday, 31 March 2013

Bert Finkle Speaks!

When Gary Barlow made his disparaging comment on X-Factor (or whatever show it was) that a certain act was "too cabaret," I was more astounded by his arrogance than the insult to an entire genre. As the subsequent video protest made clear, cabaret is so eclectic and diverse, it is almost impossible to define it. Barlow's statement suggested that he had worked out what cabaret meant. 

Back in 2008, I expected a cabaret explosion, with the replacement of all long form theatre with pieces either influenced by vaudeville or part of a cabaret format: it seemed to have the energy (burlesque was rising), the intelligence (Dusty Limits was updating Wildean humour into the post-modern age of angst) and the necessary irony (Des O'Connor reinventing the saucy song without slipping into some 1970s' sexist parody). Barlow's dismissal of cabaret suggested that I had been wrong, again. 

However, the cabaret format is still capable of enchanting me. The rumour that The Creative Martyrs are opening up a cabaret night in the southside of Glasgow made me smile (wryly). And The Scottish Writers' Centre is presenting an evening with Neil Williamson

Williamson is, as the blurb suggests, one of the most intriguing characters in Scottish letters. He is mainly known as a science fiction author with a nuanced sensibility (his Arrhythmia  is a layered response to the revolutionary power of music): his blog is well worth checking for well-mannered and thoughtful reflections on matters literary and social. He is also half of The Markee De Saw and Bert Finkle, a musical duo who found the lost link between Weimar romanticism and surreal beat poetry. 

Although it is unfair to pin Williamson down to a single genre, he does represent the sort of eclecticism that is expressed at its best within the cabaret scene. There is a consistent, sharp intelligence behind everything he does, and an understated wit and wisdom. In person, he is soft-spoken and respectable: these fine qualities are reflected in his music and writing. 

He's probably the opposite of what Barlow meant by "cabaret." And an evening like this, in which Williamson talks about the relationship between his ivory tinkling and writing, would probably not win the next X-Factor talent lottery. It would be too intelligent.

Scottish Writers’ Centre presents Writing & Song: an evening with Neil Williamson

Tuesday 9 April 2013

How Many Critics Does It Take To Change a Light Bulb?

I guess everyone thinks that they are better than average. I thought that I was the life and soul of the party, the man most likely to spin out the witty one-liner or hold the gang's attention with a comic monologue about Belgian avant-garde theatre. While I can cope being bested over the odd gag (Kieran Hurley's reponse when I mentioned that I had broken my glasses whilst reading Marx - "destroying the Spectacle again?" - was today's winner). But I am bummed to find out that I am, in fact, as dour as a Presbyterian preacher watching Jay and Silent  Bob Strike Back.

I might as well start with the punch-line, since I can't tell jokes. I was watching Tramadol Nights  and, despite Frankie Boyles' oddly amiable rudeness, I found large chunks of the show - especially the sketches - both not funny and offensive. The introduction, in which Frankie holds forth to a captive audience, sets the tone. He picks on various people in the front rows, without allowing them to respond. Only Frankie is allowed to talk: heckles like, say "the tramp's beard doesn't hide how much of your schtick you've stolen from Jerry Sadowitz," are not permitted.  It is a dismal comedy of contempt.

Then I watched Reginald D Hunter on YouTube. Again, Hunter seems to be likable, and comes across in interviews as being aware of the importance of humour for breaking taboos. But I find his routine about rape obnoxious and ignorant - with bonus irritation for trying to invoke science as a rationalisation for claiming forced sex has an evolutionary function.

To be clear: I don't want either comedian banned or censored. I know that Boyle's routine was removed from Children in Need thanks to a turn about the queen but not having your jokes on an international platform is not censorship, anymore than a film being given an eighteen certificate. I'll probably watch both comedians again, since I value the bits where they are funny more than the offense they cause me. The only response to offensive art is to create counter art. If I were funny, I'd be sketching a routine about Hunter and Boyle being in love with each other.

Not that I would see their putative homosexuality as being wrong or any less valid than their obvious love for the queen or themselves.

Both comedians are self-aware - Boyle was quick to sue when accused of racism, and these quotes from Hunter are unlikely to be matched in the back pages of Jim Davidson's joke book. They just happen to go over my personal moral event horizon. Fortunately, my lack of a sense of humour is probably a function of my tedious liberalism, and I guess I'll defend their right to say these things at the same time I moan that I don't like them.

Besides, have you seen the size of those guys?

Buzzcut and Broken Glass

It is perfectly possibly that my Bad Sunday - caused by sitting on my glasses while reading an introduction to Marx - is the result of a punishment for my cynicism about the Sunday Assembly. Fortunately, they won't believe in supernatural justice, so I can develop a conspiracy theory that the Catholic Church objected to my comparison of the Vatican to the BBC.

My current limited vision, aside from expressing my critical identity in a literal motif that would probably delight fans of Shakespeare, has cut into my review time at Buzzcut. I have been struggling anyway: the variety of work, the sheer volume of artists and the number of performers who are offering either works in progress or are at an early stage of their career slices across a simple approachof star rating individual turns. Besides, the posters are asking how an even can strengthen a community. If this is the intention of the festival, this question can only really be answered after the dust has settled - and from within.

Buzzcut  has never been short in ambition. Last year, it appeared to emerge in response to the absence of New Territories, a festival of experimental theatre that had introduced Glasgow to artists from Michael Clark through to Franko B. Buzzcut was clear that it did not intend to replace NT: the financial support behind the latter had allowed it to important major names from around the globe. Buzzcut is far more focussed on emerging artists - and local creators. But it made a fierce statement of independence, tipping its hat to the DIY ethos so strong in Glasgow, and encouraging artists from different genres, not necessarily associated with the Live Art that defines New Territories. By stressing the ideal of building and maintaining community, it presented a specific vision of what art is.

Fortunately, this year it includes the Black Sun Drum Corp. I'll be able to hear them, even if I can't see.

Both festivals and works in progress are worth further discussion - they are becoming the predominant format of theatre and related arts, lately... as soon as my eyes adjust to the short distance, I think I need to consider how I approach them.

Saturday, 30 March 2013

Sunday Assembly Glasgow

It is quite possibly typical of my small mind and petty concerns that I regard the Sunday Service as one of the least appealing aspects of religious observance. It isn't just the danger of hearing a sermon by a fundamentalist that rehearses the tedious justifications of a literal reading of the Bible (a quick check of Genesis reveals that even the authors intended scripture to be challenging, not consistent). Although I admit that building a community is admirable, I just don't like singing in public. 

So, I confess. The idea of an atheist church doesn't fill me with glee. The Sunday Assembly is hosting its first meeting outside London in Glasgow, which does suggest they know where the most important city in the UK is. They also have the level headed and optimistic Susan Calman playing the vicar - which makes it a bit like a free stand up show. I am a bit worried about the "super songs" - I don't like hymns, and I fear this will be a selection of drippy pop songs (the guidelines say positive and non-explicit, and all of my favourite tunes are melancholic or vulgar). But the tea and cake at the end's a nice touch.

The Sunday Assembly started in London. It was an attempt by Sanderson Jones and Pippa Evans to develop a congregation of non-believers who felt that their lives would be enriched by a communal gathering, but not by God. Frankly, they could have gone to the Anglican services - in the 1990s, quite a few of their vicars came out as atheists. There's also the Sea of Faith movement, inspired by Don Cupitt.

Personally, I have far more problems with the concept of Church than I do with God. The rise of militant atheism is undeniably a corrective to the thoughtless acceptance of religious authority that has marked much of human history- as both the BBC, New International and the Catholic Church remind us, unchallenged hierarchies become decadent and more concerned with their good name than addressing internal abuses.

It is the nature of organisations to become insular, to defend their existence rather than commit to the values that they are supposed to uphold. Political party, congregation of believers, Twitter followers of Justin Bieber: they all share a clannish mentality that privileges the insider and fails to engage external criticism.

Not that I am saying the Sunday Assembly will be like that. It's part of the comedy festival. It's a "foot stomping show." It's not just a sweet singing voice I lack: it's a sense of humour.

Sunday Assembly Glasgow: the godless congregation moves north
Blackfriar’s Glasgow, 1pm, Sunday March 31

Tuesday, 26 March 2013


Ever since Cryptic's Sonica festival, I have been trying to work out what the difference between sound art and music might be. The easy definition - music has got a tune, and recognisable notes - was broken by the serialists before I was born, and electronic musicians might think they are "doing art," but it is really the application of new instruments to traditional structures. However, letting Bill Fontana turn the  Finnieston Crane into a musical instrument has got to be sound art. I am unlikely to mistake that for a jazz jam or baroque concerto.

Fontana has done this sort of thing before: he wired up the Golden Gate Bridge once. His technique reminds me of classic Glaswegian noise artist Kylie Minoise: he attaches super-sensitive microphones to tap into the deep sounds the architecture makes, which are not audible to the human ear. Kylie sticks them to his body and bounces off the walls. Hopefully, the crane won't get injured as often as Kylie does.

Inevitably, Svend Brown is behind this commission. Brown, who curated the minimal festivals, has spent the last three years turning Glasgow's City Halls into a happening hipster hang-out through his adventurous programme. In his capacity as Director of Glasgow UNESCO City of Music, he has brought Fontana to the west coast. 

It does fit in with UNESCO's vision. "One thing Glasgow UNESCO City of Music does is to draw attention internationally to the fantastic home to arts and creativity that Glasgow is," says Brown.  "By linking top class international work like Bill’s to iconic aspects of our landscape we take the name of Glasgow far and wide, we give the world a great piece of art – and we get to see the city through a stranger’s eyes."

Apart from the quibble that, technically, we'll be hearing the crane through a stranger's ears, Brown's master-plan is clear. It's one thing to have cool gigs in the classic venues. This time, sound is bursting out all over the city - the Finnieston funk-metal is going to relayed to Glasgow’s Gallery of Modern Art. There's a sweet cross-over here between the worlds of music and visual art. This is something that Glasgow has always been up for: viz. the number of artists who moonlight in bands.

Fontana does seem to get this, too. “I’m incredibly excited to be staging my latest installation in Glasgow – it’s a wonderful city with an international reputation for its vibrant music scene and rich industrial heritage," he says.  "The Finnieston Crane is an emblem of the city’s engineering past, and I hope this project will uncover sounds that will fascinate and surprise the people of Glasgow and beyond, as well as tap into the history of this iconic structure.”

Silent Echoes will run 18 April - 3rd May

As It Is (Mayfesto), Pastoral (Soho Theatre), Un Petit Moliere

Vanishing Point don't mind tackling tough subjects - their Edinburgh International Festival entry Wonderland confronted their audiences with the online, violent pornography - and their contribution to the Tron's Mayfesto season is a chilling journey back to one of the 1990s' most horrifying conflicts. As It Is has been created by Associate Artist, Damir Todorovic and revisits the war in Bosnia.

Following the theme of Mayfesto, As It Is grapples with issues of identity: yet in a Europe where national identity is in crisis, belonging to one nation or another can be a matter of life and death. Todorovic's characters is looking for the truth in his past, but finds that memory can play tricks and even a lie detector might not be enough to get to reality.

Apart from undermining Jeremy Kyle's moment of high drama, As It Is is a reminder that identity isn't just a parlour game for armchair politicians. The war in Bosnia has become a flashpoint for questions about civilisation and nationhood: a brutal conflict sprung up in what was supposed to be a continent that had grown out of warfare. In a state twisted by totalitarianism, the truth is neither simple nor necessarily possible: lies may be the only way to stay alive, or live with any integrity.

Tue 14 – Thu 16 May, 7.45pm

Another new work - this time in London, the winner of the Soho Theatre's Verity Bargate Award for new writers - deals with humanity on the brink, albeit in slightly easier circumstances. Menacing cats and strutting voles are stalking the countryside, and nature seems to have become dangerously fecund. Although Thomas Eccleshare's script has a dark humour, its representation of nature preparing to take back the planet from humans is sinister and serious
Previews: Thu 25 – Sat 27 Apr, 7.30pm
Wed 15 May – Sat 8 Jun, 7.30pm
Matinees on Thu & Sat at 3pm
Press Night: Fri 17 May, 7.30pm

After two dark, modern plays: a little light relief. I'll let Lung Ha's Theatre Company speak for themselves...

Monday, 25 March 2013

Ignition @NTS

On the whole, my attitude towards cars has always been hypocritical. Not driving myself - I tend to live in big cities, which have overpriced public transport to get me about - I make a great deal of the negative impact of the automobile. It uses up natural resources. It is more dangerous than a gun. It pollutes the air, and the M74 hacked a path through Glasgow's Southside that will inhibit the quality of life of everyone in the area. 

When I was younger, I used to hitch up and down the country. Actually being in the pastoral parts of Scotland is a reminder that cars are probably quite useful, even necessary. Ignition, another fine NTS community engaged project, has nipped up to Shetland to "explore the bittersweet relationship with the automobile - how it shapes us, defines us, supports us, frees us, challenges our attitudes towards our dwindling resources and, sometimes, kills us." It ends this month with a multi-site, mobile performance bonanza.
Credit: Simon Murphy

Although I now have a good reading list of political playwrights - inspired by my usual ignorant ranting about politics, some suggestions have been made as to who might be worth considering before I make smart comments about the 1970s - Ignition  seems closer to the sort of political theatre that comforts my liberal timidity. It gets the entire community involved in the process (not just speaking through the fourth wall, but being fully inclusive). It has a few novelty turns that are almost Live Art (the hitchhiker in residence, dressed up as a folkloric figure). There is a theme tune (a composition by Hugh Nankivell, Da Road). Of course, there is some pakour (in Lerwick).

The approach here is considered, and appropriate for a national company. Wils Wilson (Director) and John Haswell (Associate Director) haven't just turned up in Shetland and decided that there is a single, important message about car use. They've spent time collecting stories about the role of the car in Shetland. Unlike Glaswegians, people in rural areas don't have First Bus to assuage their guilt about using polluting forms of transport (while overcharging for three stop trips).  And it all ends in a finale party.

It sits on that cusp of the personal and the political. It's very contemporary. And I am starting to think that the more direct forms of political theatre represented a bold, abrasive challenge that is being avoided in these modern formats.

If the NTS and Wilson are avoiding the more dogmatic attack of the past, they are responding to the more cautious mood of the times. Inclusion is seen as more important than confrontation, and truth is a matter of multiple perspectives. 

Brae -  20-23 March 2013; 7pm                        Meet at Brae Hall

Bigton - 26 & 27 March 2013; 7pm                   Meet at Bigton Hall

Yell -   29 March 2013; 7pm                               Meet at Cullivoe Hall

Finale - Brae  30 March 2013; 7pm                  Meet at Brae Hall

Read about Hairspray, then Listen to this... Bollywood Disco...

That's it. I am inventing a new critical theory. It's called ironism. It is the only way that I can cope with the mainstream. Despite being a happy little critic, as long as I am poking about in the margins of popular culture, I find mainstream theatre is too complicated.

Take Hairspray. When I was growing up, it was a film. Sure, it was rated PG, by it was directed by John Waters. His previous films were famous for presenting non-normative sexualities - a foot fetish in Mondo Trasho and that scene in Pink Flamingos  that gave Divine quite the reputation.

Then they made a musical version of it. This was made into a film. The musical film had John Travolta playing the part originally played by Divine. The layers of irony are so thick here, I decided that the only way to understand the transitions was to acknowledge irony's presence, before ignoring it. 

This is the essence of ironism. I intend to market it as the solution to the problem of post-modernism's problems with irony.

In the meantime: here's the latest. The stage version (which is now the musical of the film of the musical of the film) coming to Scotland stars Mark Benton.

He plays the part of Chalky in the BBC series Waterloo Road.

In Hairspray, he is playing the part of John Travolta playing the part of Divine playing a housewife from Baltimore. “I can't wait to start Hairspray, it's going to be amazing fun and an interesting challenge for me as it's my first adventure into the world of musicals," he says. :"That I get to go on that adventure playing a Baltimore housewife is an added bonus! As a musical I think it has everything, great songs, great script, really interesting story and lots and lots of laughs...I hope!”

Excavating past the surface complexity, Hairspray is unlike many musicals. It has a plot. There's also a political edge: set in 1962, on the cusp of the grand changes that saw the USA become all funky and almost degenerate into a race war, a geeky teenager becomes famous thanks to a reality type show. 

I am catching a mainstream musical observing itself? Ironism works here too.

New Delhi Disco Chicks - Bollywood Mixtape Vol. 1. by Hushpuppy on Mixcloud

Sex and God (Again) Nicholas Bone and Linda McLean

It's pretty clear that Magnetic North, despite having been lauded for the hilarious David Shrigley opera Pass the Spoon, have big ambitions to be championed by The Vile Blog. Calling a play God and Sex attracted my attention like a bee to a rose. I have always been fond of the company, due to their constantly shifting styles, attention to detail, support for other artists (expressed through their "Rough Mix" residencies) and collaborations with interesting writers - Pamela Carter, Shrigley and now Linda McLean.  Since they are rehearsing up at Platform, I couldn't wait to invite them onto the radio show. Before that, I managed to bother both MacLean and director Nicholas Bone for a quick chat about the work.

Sex and God is touring as part of The Scottish Mental Health Film and Art Festival - another project that I can't support enough - and looks at the lives of four women, connecting their experiences through time and places.

Gareth K Vile: I inevitably got excited by the title, but wonder whether God is quite as fascinating to most people as it is to me. I was actually surprised to see the word in the title... so, can I expect much theology in the work?
Linda McLean: There are two answers to this, inevitably...
The first is that you can expect a lot about God and you'll hear it in the voices and changing experiences of the women; and the second is, you'll have to do the theology work for yourself.  It's in there but I would never belabor it.

GKV: I rather like the idea of weaving four lives together across time, and focussing on a particular strand of experience... Hmmm. Sorry, that's an ugly way of saying - I wonder why you decided to make it four women as the focus of the play?
 LML: Two answers again: stories were passed through my family by the women; the history was kept by them and although that only makes up a part of the research it was a strong influence. And many of the stories they told were about their men.  There is no absence of men in these stories of sex and god.

GKV: Sometimes I whine on about scripts being so old fashioned, but I am interested in what encourages you to believe in the script as the foundation of theatre... and how has the nature of script writing responded to the growth of devised and physical theatre?
 LML: I don't believe in the script as the only foundation of theatre.  I believe theurgy and hermeticism is the foundation of theatre and they were an alliance of theism, science and alchemy.

Script writing has always depended upon transformers: writers, actors and directors are artists who come together with other theatre artists to make a live event.  I have little talent for anything other than script writing (oh, maybe except crochet) and I have always relied on the talents of others.

GKV: After doing an opera, what made you go for a play again?
Nicholas Bone:  For me, the idea is the thing that you start with, and then you have to find the approach (a style or scale) to suit that - for Walden, the answer was intimate and direct, for Pass the Spoon it was big and brash. There is also a question of forward planning around these choices: after doing Walden, there was a certain expectation that we'd do another small and perfectly formed show but I liked the idea of doing something very different, to surprise myself and the audience. 

I had planned for a long time that we would do an opera at some point and after doing a show with one prop for an audience no larger than 40, it seemed like a good moment to stretch ourselves in the opposite direction. Now, having done a big show with puppets, singers, a dancing turd and a live band to audiences of up to 900 people at a time, it is hugely refreshing creatively to do a show for 4 actors speaking on a simple stage with no props.  In all cases the focus is on how you communicate with an audience, the difference is how you decide to approach that.

GKV: How does this piece fit in with the vision of Magnetic North's commitment to experimental theatre?
NB: Magnetic North's commitment isn't so much to experimental theatre as to experimentation, to asking the question 'What happens if...?'  That's why our creative development programme Rough Mix (in which we put artists from different practices together) is such an important part of how we work.  Rough Mix explores the practice of creativity, and what happens during those workshops feeds into everything else we do as a company.
This play started with Linda McLean and I trying to find an idea that would interest us enough to spend quite a long time exploring it and making it happen.  The idea that gradually evolved was of portraying suspended time - the immediate inspiration was Cornelia Parker's installation Cold Dark Matter: An Exploded View - and then we had to find what the story was.  
We started off looking at a particular story, only a minute fraction of which remains in the final play, but somehow it didn't work.  As so often happens, we both went away and did other stuff and then the answer appeared. Linda went back to some research she'd done previously on the lives of working women in Glasgow.  We'd both been working on Rough Mix and Linda said "I know what the play is" and then wrote a first draft incredibly quickly.  It was the most extraordinary first draft I'd ever read - it seemed to have flowed out fully formed. The idea of suspended time, of a fractured, impressionistic narrative fitted the stories perfectly.

There's a certain truth in the idea that all artists spend their life repeating the same idea, but the really interesting ones keep finding new ways to answer the question.  There are themes that run through all of Linda's work, but she's constantly looked for new ways to explore them - there are strong connections between her first play One Good Beating and Sex and God, but stylistically they are completely different.  Sex and God is impressionistic, built up from shards of stories and it asks the audience to really pay attention.

GKV: And finally - how does this work with the general themes of the SMHFAF?
There are four characters in the play, each from a different time in the 20th century. One of the characters - Lizzie - ends up in a psychiatric hospital and her journey is about accepting the events that led to her confinement.  She grows up between the two world wars and lives on the edge of calamity.  She raises a family, including a girl with Down's syndrome, with no money and constantly on the run from the bailiffs. 

Her grip on reality is sometimes tenuous, but there is a romantic, almost visionary aspect to her and she seems to experience things differently to the other women. Her wastrel husband introduces her to drugs, and when the little girl dies in a domestic accident, she falls over the edge she has balanced on for so long. The portrayal of her and her situation is sympathetic; although she lives in a period where mental health issues were buried away, Lizzie seems almost to revel and celebrate the way that she perceives things differently to other people.

INDEPEN-DANCE, Random Accomplice, Scottish Ensemble

It was about half way through Diva's performance at Stereo that I experienced a sense of temporal disorientation. I realised, with real horror, that Diva is an artist who could not have existed in my youth. It isn't just the use of a computer that sets her apart from the bands that filled my youth: it is the eclecticism of her influences. I know music writers do this sort of thing all the time, but a list of influences rarely does justice to the immediacy of a gig. Diva is mash up of  burlesque movement and costume, abstract electronica, hippy folk lyricism and sardonic humour. Or, as someone younger pointed out, like Lady Gaga before she was put through the homogenising machine.

In line with this recognition, I am no longer going to try and give my top tips a theme. I am just going with the flow. There ought to be a prize for anyone who makes a connection between these.

INDEPEN-DANCE have got a double-bill at Tramway: they have been Glasgow's most visible inclusive dance development company for longer than I remember. This time, they have invited choreographers Natasha Gilmour and Lucy Bennett to make new pieces on their dancers.

Gilmore is another powerful presence in Glasgow: if she isn't working with the Maryhill Integration Network, her own Barrowlands Ballet has a record of making community focussed dance that refuses to sacrifice professionalism for inclusion. Now. No. Now!  teams up with composer Quee McArthur,

Goldfish by Lucy Bennett follows the story of a boy who wishes he was a fish. I relate to that already...

Tramway, Glasgow

Fri 5 & Sat 6 April  7:30pm  

Random Accomplice developed their Random Bites programme so that they could get some of their shorter plays out onto the road, without having to wait for a full scale production. Having been described as one of Scotland’s most versatile and energetic companies’  in The Skinny (well, that was probably me...), it isn't surprising that they've come up with an answer to the Fawlty Towers Dining Experience.

Tips is performed by its author, Mary Gapinski. While lunch is served, she is your waitress. She muses on  marriage, serial killers and ice-cream. Take your time to order - she has got far more interesting things on her menu.

The Scottish Ensemble will cross the United States performing concerts in leading venues across the county, before they will travel to the Far East for concerts in Beijing, Shanghai, Taipei, and Kaohsiung.   

It has become an important part of the annual schedule for national companies to nip abroad and show the rest of the world how great Scottish art can be. The Scottish Ensemble, who are more than happy to mix up baroque and contemporary composition, are likely to make the USA envious. And they are going to be at that Scottish Government’s Scotland Week celebrations in New York - the one that always gets in the Metro, usually with a picture of a tax exile giving the country respect. 

The press release notes: 

To mark the Ensemble’s return from the US, they will perform a ‘homecoming’ concert at Glasgow City Halls on Wednesday 24 April at 7.30pm. They will be joined by soloist Jane Irwin for Britten’s late, dramatic masterpiece,Phaedra, and sparkling arias from Handel and Purcell. The programme will also be interspersed with classic works from the Baroque string repertoire, many of which feature during their US tour. The concert also marks the end of the Ensemble’s Glasgow season focus celebrating Britten’s centenary.

Concert Programme

Handel       Concerto Grosso op. 6 No. 7 in B flat Major
Purcell       ‘Dido’s Lament’ ; ‘Hark! The Echoing Air’
Handel       ‘Ah Mio Cor’ (from Alcina)
Biber           Battalia
Purcell       Dance of the Furies ; Chacony in G ; Fantasia upon One Note
Britten       Phaedra