'Hamilton' at the Victoria Palace Theatre

The Victoria Palace hosted 'Billy Elliot' for years and then it closed for refurbishment. The re-opening show is Lin-Manuel Miranda's 'Hamilton', a hot ticket guaranteed to pull in the punters. There's been a lot of hype about this show over the last year or two and, I have to say, it deserves it. It also deserves all the awards it's been given. It's one of those rare beasts that really is all-round good.

It's almost entirely sung/rapped with no dialogue as such and that keeps the momentum going. Scene piling on scene as we travel through the escapades of Mr Hamilton from being a young firebrand through the revolutionary war to becoming an elder statesman who's eventually cast out when Washington decides not to run for President again. I didn't really notice anything that signalled the passing of time - other than him suddenly having an adult child in a duel.

The songs are really good - there's no denying it - and they're delivered really well. But I'd also highlight the choreography and the lighting as a major contributor to the effect of the songs. Barely a song goes by without some sort of choreography and that's what really brought the show alive for me. Constant movement, dancers rushing on to almost make many of the songs into mini-videos and then dashing off. They must be exhausted by the end of the show.

I was very impressed with Jason Pennycooke who played Thomas Jefferson for all the world like an early version of Prince, haircut, purple clothes and everything. And why not? It really worked well. The character blithely asks what he's missed while hiding out in France while the revolutionary war was taking place. There are some lovely throw away lines in this play.

One of the few downsides to the show is that I don't really care about Hamilton the person and this play doesn't make me care about him. I don't have any real interest in American history or of the revolution so him being a 'founding father' means little to me. All I know about him is what's in the play (which may or may not be accurate) and he doesn't come across as a very nice person. He seems to care mainly about himself and what he wants to the extent of publicising an affair he had that ruins his family but ensures he can't be blackmailed about it in the future. I'm not sure if that's brave or stupid.

Jamael Westman was fine as Alexander Hamilton but I thought Giles Terera as Aaron Burr and sometimes the narrator was a more commanding presence on the stage. My favourite was Jason Pennycooke as Lafayette in the first act and Prince, um, sorry, I mean Thomas Jefferson in the second. He was fabulous as a fast talking, self-absorbed dandy (I recall Jason in 'La Cage Aux Folles' a few years back). Despite presenting them as a version of Destiny's Child, the ladies were less impressive but I did like Rachel John who sounded like she had a proper singers' voice rather than a stage voice.

I've mentioned the dancers before - an excellent and energetic bunch - and they were all dressed the same, all in white and cream so it didn't really matter who was dancing, they had great ensemble effect. But I noticed early on that the women wore skin-tight jodhpurs and a bodice-type thing showing cleavage while the men wore looser trousers and were covered up to their heads, including wearing neckerchiefs. With all the gender politics and #MeToo movements it seemed very noticeable - to me at least - the way that the dancers were sexualised in this way. How odd.

If you get the chance, go and se this show, you won't regret it. Oh, and as you're constantly reminded, don't throw away your shot (I'm not quite sure what that means).

'Picasso 1932' at Tate Modern

'Picasso 1932' is the current blockbuster exhibition at Tate Modern, a big collections of paintings and other works from the single year of 1932 - what a prolific chap that Picasso was to complete so many works in one year and we only see a selection. It's an impressive achievement for the Tate to get so many paintings on loan for the exhibition. A little touch that I really liked was including the day and date the painting was created on the label - that sort of helped to emphasise that all these works were completed in a single year.

Apparently 1932 was a crisis year for Picasso with the advent of his first major retrospective exhibition, critics questioning his creative relevance and his marriage falling apart while he discovers a new muse rather than his wife. So, a year of challenge and discovery, and that's something i really liked about the exhibition - it exposes us to a wide range of styles and approaches to creativity that Picasso was experimenting with. Not all are equally successful but that's what you would expect and it's great to have an opportunity to see such a wide range of works.

The exhibition is laid out chronologically so we travel through 1932 with Picasso, from January to December, as his moods change and shift. His experiments change and develop and it's fascinating walking through the year with him.

There are all sorts of works in this exhibition - some sculptures, paintings, drawings, all completed in 1932. I quite liked some of the monochrome line paintings but there were some works there I wouldn't have guessed were by Picasso if I hadn't been told. There were a few small landscapes and paintings of his house at Boisgeloup that were delightful in their simplicity and restraint. I stood there grinning at them and wondering how I'd never seen any paintings like this by Picasso before. They were lovely.

As I walked through the year I started noticing that some themes and compositions were repeated, but not in the same way, almost like he was exploring his own artistic processes. One of these were paintings titled 'The Rescue'.  One of the quotes from Picasso that was written up on the wall was, "You start a painting and it becomes something altogether different. It's strange how little the artist's will matters." That's a bit like Paul Klee's 'taking a line for a walk' approach. The painting takes over and the artist must follow it where it leads.

It's a really enjoyable exhibition and I'll certainly go back (and pick a time when it's not so crowded - I really ought to know by now). It's a really good concept for an exhibition but there aren't that many artists of similar stature who produced sufficient works to focus on a single year. It certainly works for Picasso.

'Manon' at the Royal Opera House

'Manon' is one of the great romantic modern ballets by Kenneth MacMillan and has been in the Royal Ballet's repertoire for a long time (I saw the 274th performance according to the cast list). The tale is worthy and sad - there are no happy endings in this ballet. But there is some great dancing, particularly the group dances and the various pas de deux of the lovers.

'Manon' is a simple tale of greed, lust and power and, of course, love. Isn't every ballet? Our heroine is Manon, a young girl who travels to Paris with her guardian to meet her brother and change coaches to take her to a convent. By the time she appears we've already met her brother, Lescaut, who pimps his mistress and is friends with the Beggar Chief and other thieves. He welcomes the grand folks from Paris in the hopes of getting money out of them. When his sister arrives, beautiful and young, he realises he can get money for her virtue and he deals with both her guardian and the rich Monsieur G.M. While the deals are being made, Manon meets Des Grieux, a handsome young student and they fall in love and flee back to his apartment where they dance their love. Unfortunately, they're followed by Lescaut and Monsieur G.M. who then woos her with furs and a diamond necklace and she succumbs. Her lover is, of course, distraught.

Some time later the scene changes to a society party with courtesans and lusty old men, young energetic men showing off and all gentlemen handing in their swords to avoid any trouble. Lescaut and Des Grieux arrive in their finery and Lescaut is already drunk and gives the best drunk dancing I've ever seen as he and his mistress cavort across the stage. Then Monsieur and Manon arrive and she's bedecked in all her finery but, inside, she's still the little girl who fell in love and she and Des Grieux plan to run away together.  Monsieur returns and swords are drawn as the couple try to escape and Lescaut help them. They make it back to Des Grief's apartment, followed by Monsieur and the local police - he shoots and kills Lescaut and prosecutes Manon as a prostitute.

Manon is deported to a penal colony in the colonies in America and Des Grieux follows to protect her. She is still a beauty and the local Gaoler takes a fancy to his new charge and rapes her at which point Des Grieux finally grows a pair and stabs him to death. The lovers escape into the swamps around the colony where Manon finally dies and we leave Des Grieux to his mourning. Clap! Clap! Clap!

So there you have it kids, don't give up your virtue for worldly goods because you'll probably die in a swamp. And you don't want that.

It's a fab ballet and there's some astonishing dancing. The best solo dances all seem to go to that rascal Lescaut in the first act, leaping all over the place, and he gets the opportunity to do great dancing and falling over in the drunken party scene. Our lovers of Manon and Des Grieux dance some lovely and tender pas de deux, sharing moments of passion and love. One segment I really enjoyed was when the ladies arrived in the colony dressed in rags and hair cut scandalously short and their ensemble dance with their hands behind their backs one moment and covering their heads in shame the next before passing out with the heat and their weariness. I was most impressed with that simple and heart-felt story telling, the restrained movements and innate sadness. It was most fab indeed.

Our dancers were Akane Takada as Manon, Alexander Campbell as Des Grieux, James Hay as the very bouncy Lescaut, and Thomas Whitehead as the nasty Monsieur G.M. Thank you for the magic.

'Fanny and Alexander' at The Old Vic

'Fanny and Alexander' at The Old Vic closed a couple of weeks ago so this is more of a completist  blog to make sure it's credited in the Plastic Bag. 'Fanny and Alexander' is, of course, an Ingmar Bergman film, a film I've never seen. This was its first stage adaptation and I was suitably impressed with the great theatricality of it all with various narrators (usually the servants in the play) talking to the audience to explain what's happening (often the food menus). There were lots of little twists and turns that made the whole thing great fun to off-set the darker moments.

The Ekdahl family live in separate apartments in their townhouse in a Swedish town where they also own the local theatre and some of them perform in the theatre company. Of the three brothers, one runs the theatre, one is a bit of a wastrel with money problems and the other is aloud-mouth philanderer - and also the most attractive character. The theatre brother dies suddenly and his widow marries the local bishop and moves to his cold palace with her two children, the Fanny and Alexander of the title. The Bishop is an old-fashioned puritanical zealot or possibly simply an abusive sadist who enjoys imposing his well on his wife and punishing her son. These scenes aren't very pleasant at all. Luckily, the Bishop gets his righteous come-uppance and the family returns to the safety of their former family home.

It's a long play at 3:15 hours and two intervals but it immediately sets the right tone when Alexander runs onto the stage to welcome us to 'the longest play in history'. It's both self-knowing and poking a bit of fun at itself and us and talking to the audience sets the scene for later narrative twists and turns. It is a long play but it didn't feel that long and that's to it's credit and the quality of the writing and the production.

My favourite player was Penelope Wilton as the Grandmother who rules the townhouse and it's people with a fist of cotton wool and a quick tongue, in a role that seemed to have been made for her. She was really excellent - it's a joy to see Penelope on stage in almost anything but this suited her to a T.  I also greatly enjoyed Jonathan Slinger as Uncle Gustav Adolf, the wastrel brother who got a huge spontaneous round of applause after he let rip at the Bishop telling the truths that people were too frightened to mouth. He might be a wastrel but he's the one I'd like to have as a friend. It was a great ensemble cast that happily played off each other and seemed to be having fun doing it.

The play closed a couple of weeks ago but, y'know what? I think I'd happily see it again when it's eventually revived. Well done everyone!

'Twang!!' at the Union Theatre

The Union Theatre is a small space under the railway arches between Waterloo and London Bridge stations, it's small, it's bijou, it's unpretentious and it puts on stuff that you probably wouldn't see at any mainstream theatre. It put on Sondheim's 'Assassins' long before the Choccy Factory down the road thought of doing it and also the Pet Shop Boys musical 'Closer To Heaven' so it knows it's stuff. It had a tiny front of house area and a stage area blocked by odd columns all over the place but it tried and was worthy. Then, last year, it moved over the road (literally) to a space at least twice the size of the space it occupied and the other night was my first visit to the new venue to see 'Twang!!'.

Outdoors seating in the alley leading up to it (and other trendy restaurants) and a large cafe/bar area indoors was most impressive, so much bigger than the dark and dingey bar I was used to. Going up to get the tickets I'd booked online and it still doesn't have numbered seats, rather you get a token to go into the theatre in groups and you can sit anywhere. And that's where the scales started falling from my eyes.

Standing at the bar where two staff were chatting to each other and a third was chatting to her mate on the other side of the bar and I'm standing there wondering if I should clear my throat to prove I wasn't invisible is hardly the welcome I hoped for. Then having a poorly stocked bar and getting a glass of warm red wine that made me wish for ice cubes. The front of house staff in scruffy shorts and vests telling us to wait because 'there were more 3s' when we were 4s despite no-one else waiting to enter the auditorium. Um, what's that all about? Uncomfortable seats, narrow corridor between the seats with duct tape keeping the carpet covering down - I thought this was a 'new' theatre?

Then we get to the play, the little performed 'Twang!!' by Lionel Bart (of 'Oliver' fame) and re-written at some point to include references to other musicals. It's the tale of Robin Hood based on the Hollywood film, one of my favourites, so I ought to have loved it. But, it just isn't a very good musical and, if you've got poor material, then there's only so much you can do with it. I really felt for the actors trying to make this work but, quite frankly, it didn't. And I'm sorry about that.

I have no idea what the original was like but why on earth did the director make them play it like this? A camp troop of men in shorts with Lily Savage as Will Scarlett (whose girlfriends were shrieking in the audience), a woman playing the Barbara Windsor role who seemed to have a nice voice but ended up screeching too often and big dance numbers that were just too big for the size of the place and meant they bumped into each other. They must've rehearsed this, surely, so why did it still happen? Why did no-one notice? The people in front of us left at half time - I stayed because I wanted to see what happened next. It didn't get any better.

I can't blame the actors for the evening - they were given material and directed to act in a certain way - but I do blame the director and the Union Theatre. It seems to be making an art form out of being amateur and unprofessional and that's not a good look. I won't be going back any time soon if that's the quality of experience on offer. The Union Theatre seems to have lost it's twang....  (which is what the play is all about, oo-er matron).

' Monet & Architecture' at the National Gallery

To many people, the name Claude Monet probably conjures up images of waterlilies, gardens and gorgeous landscapes. That makes an exhibition about his paintings of architecture - streets and buildings - rather inspired. And what a good exhibition it is, with 77 paintings by Monet grouped thematically and nicely spaced out. For a change there are no labels beside the paintings to distract, just a  number that you can look up in the free booklet you pick up at the entrance.

There are some lovely landscapes and seascapes with a house or church or some other building in it to justify its inclusion but this painting, 'The Steps' caught my attention because it's not in a landscape or garden, it's a set of stone steps beside a house in what looks like a courtyard. Naturally there are trees and plants in the scene as well but there would be, wouldn't there. What really made me look again was the sense that the steps were leading up and backwards into the near distance, the shadow at the front of the steps really emphasising this. Considering this is a very enclosed space there's no feeling of claustrophobia at all due to the gorgeous sunlight keeping it all light and airy. I wonder what's in the room at the top of the stairs - is it a bedroom or a store-room or something else? I'm nosy.

There were a few paintings that I thought were borderline cheating given the theme of architecture but I'll trust the National Gallery in its choices. There were a few scenes of sea and cliff and a small church on top of the cliffs which were wonderfully vivid but this painting is a bit different since it's mainly landscape and cliffs with the roof of a house nestled into the landscape. This is 'The Cliffs at Varengeville' and the house was a customs station to look out for smugglers. Is this painting really about architecture or is it a landscape that happens to have the top of a house in it?  I don't really care - it's lovely and that's enough for me.

Another painting I fell in love with was the gorgeous 'Villas at Bordighera' from 1884. I counted approximately 4, 365 colours in this painting (or thereabouts) with its lush foliage and flowers and the sun playing on the buildings under that lovely blue sky. Can you imagine having that as your back garden? I can almost hear the rustle of the palm fronds in the breeze just looking at this photo.

Something I've mentioned before is that the photos I post here in the Plastic Bag aren't always very representative of the actual paintings - you need to see the real paintings if at all possible to appreciate the colours and brush strokes and all-round atmosphere of the paintings. It makes so much difference seeing the real thing. That is especially true of Monet's paintings.

Another painting to marvel at is 'The Beach at Trouville' which radiates heat and glorious light - paintings like this really need to be seen in winter to warm us all up.

A painting that I've blogged about before is 'The Rue Montorgueil , Paris. The National Holiday of 30 June 1878' which normally lives in Musee D'Orsay in Paris. This is such a gorgeous painting with the street thronged with people, flags flying from every vantage and the inevitable sun beating down on Paris. All of those little people in the street are blobs of paint, one smear of the paint brush, so up-close they don't look like much but we can clearly see them as people. Monet knew he didn't have to be detailed and that's the beauty of his paintings - a suggestion is all we need to see whatever he wanted us to see. I love the sheer colour, vibrancy and light of this painting and it;s probably the one I'd put in my bag first if I was mounting a raid on the exhibition (which I'm not, by the way, if security is reading!).

Of course, M. Monet also confounds us with an incredibly realistic cityscape of 'The Boulevard des Capucines, Paris' from 1873. These aren't little blobs of colour on the canvas, these are far more detailed and accurate portrayals of people and the cityscape and it was almost a shock to see this painting. Am I in the right exhibition? but it's great to see how Monet's vision changed and developed over the years.

The final couple of rooms take us to Rouen to see the effects of the sunlight he painted of the facade of Rouen Cathedral, the atmospheric effects of the Thames in London, and the effects of water on the buildings of Venice. After Venice he largely retired to his garden to paint the wonderful scenes of his garden as his sight failed.

I think my favourite of these later paintings is 'Houses of Parliament, Sunset' from 1904 with its glaring ball of fire in the sky burning up the Thames.  Now *that* is how you paint the mother of all parliaments, a mere shadow against the power of nature. I have to wonder again, is this really about architecture or is it about the power of nature and the images of atmosphere?

I'm not sure I care, to be honest. It's an inspired concept for an exhibition and I love it. I'm familiar with some of the paintings from the National Gallery's own collection and from D'Orsay, but so many of them were new to me that it's a privilege to see them in London. I suspect the exhibition is going to Paris at some point since the catalogue is available in French. I bought the English version of the catalogue so I can relive this exhibition whenever I want to.

If you're in London when the exhibition is on then I heartily recommend a visit, but try early mornings or late afternoons when it shouldn't be so busy. This is definitely one of the exhibitions of the year.

Bernstein Triple Bill at the Royal Opera House

It's the centenary of the birth of Leonard Bernstein and to celebrate it the Royal Ballet has put on a triple bill of ballets at the Royal Opera House, including two new ballets specially commissioned for the event. We had 'Yugen' by Wayne McGregor, 'The Age of Anxiety' by Liam Scarlett and 'Corybantic Games' by Christopher Wheeldon. As ever, it was a packed house to see the Royal Ballet, especially because it was an opportunity to see new ballets for the first time.

First up was 'Yugen', choreographed by Wayne McGregor and featuring Principal Dancer Sarah Lamb. This was an abstract piece danced to the music of Bernstein and the Chichester Psalms sung in Hebrew by the Royal Opera Chorus. It was very atmospheric and the Chorus was in fine voice. It's easy to get lost in the twisting and the leaping, the lifting and the movement of the dancers, mesmerised by the sight in front of you, particularly to powerful music. I didn't really care what the dancers were trying to say, instead, I just revelled in the movement. My only criticism was about the red on red costumes with one leg wider than the other - I found it really distracting and ugly for some reason, but I loved the dance.

The second ballet was 'The Age of Anxiety' by Liam Scarlett that's been performed before but this was my first time to see it. This was a much more narrative affair and I enjoyed it the most - I recall thinking as I sat there towards the end that *this* is why I enjoy ballet. It tells a story through athletic movement and it shines a light on life, on us, and, hopefully, we learn from it.

The ballet opens in a bar in New York after the war when the troops are returning home. We see a woman on her own at the bar, an office worker sitting further along the bar, a young man in a booth and then in comes a sailor looking for fun. He's very metrosexual and happy to dance with the woman or the young man and even tries to steal the girl from the soldier that comes in later. He doesn't seem to care so long as he can celebrate life and surviving the war.

The scene shifts from the bar to the street with the group trying to hail a taxi to get home and then we arrive at the woman's apartment which is far more chic than her hanging out in a bar would suggest. More dancing and rivalry ensues  until the sailor wins and the young man leaves disappointed, pursued by the office worker. The sailor promptly falls asleep on the sofa while the office worker declares his interest in the young man outside. And then we see the dream, the golden city in the dawn sunlight summoning the young man back to adventure and the future and he succumbs, running towards it.

I really loved this ballet, so much wrapped up in only 39 minutes, tales of life and love, triumph and disaster and what it means to be alive. Sarah Lamb was, again, our leading lady, along with Alexander Campbell, Bennet Gartside and Tristan Dyer. So much story-telling and energetic dance in such a short time.

The final ballet was 'Corybantic Games' by Christopher Wheeldon, and the costumes were very ancient Greek in style. This one was, again, rather abstract in style, with the dancers appearing as ancient Greek athletes, the women in see-through frocks and the lads wearing lots of straps. It had me wondering about how you jump backwards, especially synchronised, and I couldn't quite work it out. Once again, it was the sheer athleticism and artistry of the dancers that stole my attention - how do they do that?

With this ballet I had little idea of what was going on, it was more of an abstract show-off ballet, look what I can do as the dancers leap and twirl and go up on tippy toe and challenge each other to do better. These young people are astonishingly fit and seemed to move as one even when they quite clearly weren't. I was most impressed.

This was a very enjoyable evening seeing new ballets as well as one that's been on before. You never really know what you're going to see in these Royal Ballet triple bills but there's always one that I love. This time it was 'The Age of Anxiety' which I'm very pleased to have seen.

'Bomberg' at the Laing Art Gallery, Newcastle

The Laing Gallery puts on some interesting exhibitions so I try to visit when I'm in Newcastle. Last years's exhibition was 'Out of Chaos' with paintings about and by migrants in the early 20th Century and this time it's an exhibition of works by David Bomberg. Interestingly, both exhibitions were in association with the Ben Uri Gallery.

David Bomberg is little more than a name to me, really. I've seen some of his works in various galleries and in group exhibitions (such as the 'Crisis of Brilliance' exhibition at Dulwich Picture Gallery a few years ago, along with his colleagues from the Slade school), but I don't know anything about him. Most of the works I've seen I'd categorise as dark smudges - they're not, of course, but compared to some of his contemporaries, that's what they seemed like. I hoped that this exhibition would show me a different side to Bomberg and it did.

The first thing you see on entering the exhibition is a lovely drawing he did when he was about 23 years old, a self-portrait. He did various self-portraits in different media but I quite liked this one, youthful and full of hope for the future - look world, look what I can do. The direct gaze and honesty in his features is quite impressive and this drawing is in the national collection at the National Portrait Gallery.

The exhibition is chronological so we see his style and choice of subjects develop. We see his painting of barges and barge-people on Regents Canal and his views of the lives of the Jewish communities in the East End of London, such as his 'Ghetto Theatre' from 1920 which is a work I've seen before and think of as one of his 'dark smudge' paintings.

It's when he went to live and work in Jerusalem and in Spain that he seems to have discovered light and his palette changed.  It was a great surprise to suddenly see all of these bright landscapes, full of light and warmth, such as this one, 'Jerusalem City and Mount of Ascension' from 1925. These paintings weren't all figurative by any means but it's good to see the range of works he created over his life. There are a few cityscapes of places like Jerusalem and Toledo in the exhibition but there are also some landscapes as well, and I particularly liked his 'Valley of La Hermida' from 1935 with it's stark beauty.

He seems to have travelled around a lot, settling here and there for some time before something went wrong and he had to return to London, such as painting school folding and having to leave Spain in advance of the Civil War. He doesn't seem to have had a very successful life at all with various business ventures failing, not getting war commissions and then, when he finally did get one, having his works rejected. I wonder what he felt about this? Did he care or was he wrapped up in his art?

I particularly liked a painting called 'The Red Hat' from 1931 which is actually a portrait of his second wife, Lilian Holt. Lilian was also an artist and it seems they painted together and inspired each other (it was she who introduced him to flower painting that took his work in another direction again). I love that red hat.

There were more portraits and landscapes and flowers on show, but the final painting in the exhibition is 'The Last Self-Portrait' from 1956 (Bomberg died in 1957). It's quite a contrast - as you'd expect - from the self-portrait that opened the exhibition but the thing I really liked about it is that he's holding his palette and brushes, his tools of his trade and art. After having read about his various failures over his life it's a proud statement at the end of his life saying 'I am an artist'.

I'm pleased I caught this exhibition and would like to know more about him. Maybe one day he'll get an exhibition in his home town of London.

Kim Wilde at The Sage, Gateshead

On Monday night I went to see Kim Wilde at her gig at The Sage in Gateshead. I've been to two of Kim's Christmas Party gigs in London so I know both she and band give good gig but I wanted to see her on tour with her new album, Here Come The Aliens' and I'm so pleased I did. And, luckily, the Aliens didn't choose that night to invade.

You could almost feel the excitement level rising as people took their seats and then the lights went down and on strode the band, taking their places and then there was Kim in her body-hugging PVC outfit with silver jacket with tassles - yes, tassles! All designed to ward off the Aliens, obviously. And what a fabulous sound came off that stage, high volume guitar and synth music with a pounding beat provided by two drummers and bass, synth/keytar, two guitars (including little brother Ricky, of course), niece Scarlett on vocals and Kim out front.

The set opened with 'Stereo Shot' from the new record before heading straight back to the early '80s with 'Water on Glass' and that set the pattern for the evening, new and old songs melding together into a great setlist, old favourites and new favourites working well together.

Early on we had 'Kandy Krush', the current single from the album and great raucous pop song with wailing guitars and relentless drums and Kim's vocals and trademarked woh-oh-ohs. It's one of my favourites from the new record so I was happy! Other favourites were the head-banger 'Birthday' - dance like it's your birthday! - and 'Rosetta' (sung with Scarlett).

There were plenty of Kim's classics to keep everybody happy and I particularly liked 'View From A Bridge' segueing into 'Chequered Love', 'Cambodia', 'If I Can't Have You' and 'You Keep Me Hangin' On'.  It was a great selection of songs, old and new but I don't think there were any from her last two albums - I'm not sure those records were even released in this country which probably explains why.  Songs like 'Perfect Girl' and 'Hey You!' would've fit right in to this set.

All too soon Kim and the band were waving goodbye and leaving the stage - what? but there are still a dozen songs I want to hear and then I realised that, of course, she hasn't sung *that* song yet so she's bound to come back for an encore. That's part of the problem of such a huge iconic hit and it's a nice problem to have. Back they came, this time with Kim wearing a sparkly cape and the synth led off on the introduction to 'Pop Don't Stop' the first single from the new record. Then the band gathered round one of the drum kits and started a blistering version of 'Kids In America' - of course! And the whole audience joined in. That song is 37 years old - older than some people in the audience - and still sounds fabulous live. And then that really was it, 1:40 hours of happy memories.

The band's been on the road for a couple of weeks already and they sounded in fine form and everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives on that stage and everyone had a moment to shine. Kim was on top form despite mentioning that her voice was suffering - sounded fine to me Kim! - wreathed in smiles and giving her all, occasionally clowning with her baby brother Ricky. Please don't leave it another 30 years until the next tour - thanks for a fab evening Kim!

 PS: and thanks for protecting us from the Aliens with your multi-coloured ray gun!