Madonna at the O2, London

Madonna has hit the road again, this time to promote her 'Rebel Heart' record, and last week she arrived at the O2 Arena in London, a venue she's played several times before.

I learned many years ago that it's worth seeing Madonna play live when you can - it's a relatively rare event and she gives good gig, with fab dancing, great lighting and sound and, of course, some fab songs. With Madonna it's easy to think of her as a 'personality' rather than as a musician but she's written some great songs over the years and she knows how to put them across. They're her songs and she can interpret them however she wants but always in a way to please the crowd. And she knows her audience.

M was on top form and actually talked to the audience far more than any other time I've seen her, which was nice. Chatting and joking and giving a heart-felt speech about it being World AIDS Day was very touching, when she almost went tearful.

She played lots of songs, old and new, and I loved the way she includes parts of old songs while performing the new ones - this worked really well throughout the set. She'd also built the runway to at least half way back in the auditorium so more people got to see her up close. She's also a consummate professional, with her dancers trained to perfection and all performing as part of  a family. They were an astonishing bunch, all over the stage but so together and always re-focusing again on Madonna.

Favourite songs were 'Burning Up', 'Devil Pray', 'True Blue', 'Like a Virgin' (obvs) and 'Who's That Girl'. She did a stonking version of 'Music' and a lovely version of 'Material Girl' with a solo, acoustic version of 'La Vie En Rose' which got an enormous applause. I must single out the lovely version of 'Rebel Heart' from the last album, one of my favourite M songs and so her.  I also loved the exerpts of 'Love Don't Live Here Anymore' and 'Justify My Love' included in other songs and, of course, 'Holiday' was the mandatory finale.

Love her or hate her, Madonna works hard and produces some amazing set pieces on stage and she's got an amazing back catalogue of 30 years to choose from for her stage sets. And, of course, she can fly - backwards. Hail Madonna and thank you for a great show!

Branagh at The Garrick

Kenneth Branagh's season at the Garrick has begun with a marvellous production of 'The Winter's Tale' with a separate Terence Rattigan's double bill of 'Harlequinade' and 'All On Her Own'.

'All On Her Own' is a short, solo play with the wife of a newly dead man wondering whether his death was actually suicide and going through the guilt she can't help but feel. Zoe Wanamaker took the part of the smart wife with a drink in her hand as she wonders about her late husband's last hours. Did he not go to bed deliberately so he could swallow too many pills with whisky or was it an accident? We'll never know.

More fun was 'Harlequinade' about a repertory theatre company playing an opening night in some small town somewhere. They've been on the road for so long with so many productions that it's all a bit of a blur but in this one we have Branagh as the company manager and lead actor playing Romeo despite his age (I loved the reveal of whipping off the very convincing wig!). It's a farce of ludicrous proportions and is a bit of light relief that had some of the older members of the audience guffawing every now and then (not sure what at, though). Mistaken identities, theatrical in-jokes, everything you could think of except falling down trousers, it's all in there. I enjoyed it for what it was and Zoe Wanamaker played the part of the rather tipsy nurse.

The production of 'The Winter's Tale' was altogether in a different league (quite probably due to the writing, of course). This is one of Shakespeare's odd plays in which jealousy emerges out of the blue and wrecks a marriage, no sign of it until it's there and that makes me wonder at where that central motif came from. Leontes, king of Sicily, is entertaining his friend the king of Bohemia when he grows jealous of his relationship with Leontes' pregnant wife, Hermione. And that's where the problems begin. It's set at Christmas with the giving of presents, ice skating and everything festive you'd get up to in Sicily. I always think the kingdoms should be swapped round, with Bohemia being the winter kingdom, not Sicily.

Jealousy is the ending of the marriage and Hermione dies in childbirth and Leontes banishes the child since he can't believe it is his. The child, of course, survives and grows up to be a beautiful young women who, coincidentally, falls in love with Bohemian king's son. Queue complications and a rather long rustic scene. I've never been a fan of Shakespeare's rustic scenes but these seemed really quite sweet and delightful compared to previous productions I've seen, with the love of the young people coming through as the driving force.

They eventually go to Sicily to marry and find themselves in Leontes' court when it's revealed that Hermione didn't actually die all those years ago, but has been alive as a statue all this time, cared for by Paulina, a senior courtier. There's no explanation of this phenomenon or why she might want to get together with Leontes again but it works, particularly the big reveal with everyone now having grey hair to show the moving of the years.

It's not the most satisfying of Shakespeare's plays but I really liked this production and there's a great partnership between Kenneth Branagh as Leontes and Judi Dench as Paulina. I loved the set that placed the play at Christmas in an opulent and red-plush Edwardian court with people swapping presents and playing out the Christmas spirit, including going ice skating. There was even a big Christmas Tree and the supporting cast came to the stage through the audience blowing horns and singing. It was a great start.

I think the production is going to be screened in cinemas so if you get the chance I'd urge you to see it - it's worth it, believe me.

Elisabeth Louise Vigee Le Brun at Le Grand Palais, Paris

While over in Paris we went to see the first major retrospective of the works of Elisabeth Louise Vigee Le Brun to be held in France, which is very odd but shows that her status as a painter is increasing.

She was a painter to the court of Louis and Marie-Antoinette before the revolution, travelled round Europe during the revolution and Napoleon's empire and returned to France to take up her place as a painter again once stability had returned. She must have had an eventful life, leaving Paris because of her close association with the royalists to travel round Europe with her daughter, visiting the major cities and centres of art, making her living as a painter and spreading the word about her great skills with her brushes. This exhibition is almost entirely made up of portraits and some wonderful works they are too.

The exhibition is chronological, starting with her early world as she established herself as a portraitist with the aristocracy and the wealthy, refining her skills and creating her own contemporary legend as the go-to portraitist for the not-so-pretty because she could work wonders. The poster-girl for the exhibition is clearly pretty, with a slight blush on her cheek, covered in laces and bows but it was the tiny flowers on her hat that entranced me, such delicate little flowers adding to the beauty of the whole. The majority of her paintings are of women but she did paint some men, such as this lovely portrait of a long-forgotten actor in his silken garb. I suspect he was a little bit more portly than portrayed in this picture (his chubby face and neck doesn't quite match his waistline) but it works very well.

She knew the potential power of painting as propaganda and used it to great effect in her portraits of Marie-Antoinette, such as this one with her three children. Marie sits ramrod straight, every inch a regal queen with her feet resting on a thick cushion, but the whole effect is humanised by the poses of the children, leaning into her, playing around her and clearly loving her. Here we have queen and mother, mother to France and, through her children, to the future of France. The painting is very well constructed leaving the viewer in no doubt as to what you see, with the lush reds and velvet textures, the richness of the clothes but the almost down-to-earthness of children pulling at their mother, cuddling her  and wanting attention. They are clearly loved and indulged. That message obviously didn't work in some quarters.

The portraits became far more interesting to me once Elisabeth had left France after the revolution and went on her travels for a decade or so. The painting become richer and more intense, a wider colour palette and variety of subjects. The portraits are still mainly of women (or at least they are in this exhibition) but what an assortment of women - ladies and countesses, princes and mistresses, what characters they display. There are two portraits of Lady Hamilton (Nelson's lover) at the start of this section of the exhibition (upstairs from the first half) and these re richly drenched with colours that steer away from the light pastels of many of the earlier portraits. She is a woman, not a girl, of great beauty and energy, the lover of a warrior. Here she is, painted as a Bacchante dancing before a smoking Vesuvius, hair flying with her movements.

The portraits from her stay in St Petersburg are what really attracted me, with their bold colours and naturalistic poses capturing movement and passion. What glorious paintings these are and why has it taken so long for Vigee Le Brun to be recognised as a great portraitist? They are of individual people that were recognisable at the time and full of character for us looking on 200 years later. I was taken by this painting of a woman looking straight into your eyes, almost saying 'don't play your games with me Elisabeth, I know your tricks' and so Elisabeth did exactly what she does so well and painted the young lady with a direct gaze. Varvara Ivanovna Ladomirskaya was clearly a strong young woman who knew what she wanted and wouldn't put up with anyone trying to change her.

My favourite portrait was from about the same time, a strong young woman with a scarf in her hair and scarlet shawl wrapped close, looking straight out at the viewer, almost saying 'pay attention, I'm here and I have something to say'. I took the opportunity of a rare bench in front of this pinging to sit down and gaze at this painting and she drew me in, the plain background and bright red clothing. Her name was    but who was she really? That's one of the beauties of portraiture - these are real people with their own points of view and loves and challenges. They might have been nice or might have been nasty. I think the Countess Varvara Nicolayevna Golovina was nice and I'd have loved to have a chat with her. Her face says she's lived and she has a brain so she will have views to debate.

Elisabeth was also a great self-portraitist and the notes for the exhibition state that she used these to publicise herself. She was clearly a marketing genius ahead of her time. One of my favourite self-portraits was this one, painted with her daughter Julie, a loving mother and daughter, and the mother just happens to have been one of the greatest portraitists of the time.

This was a bit of an eye-opener of an exhibition. Before this I'd seen one of her paintings and now, having seen room after room of her work, I can really appreciate her skills. I'd like to know more about her - there were a few biographies in the shop at the end but they were all in French. The exhibition continues in Paris until January and then transfers to the USA and Canada so, if you get the chance, go and see it and wonder at this brave and incredibly talented woman. 

La Soiree on the Southbank

Last week we went to see the return of the cabaret-circus spectacular that is La Soiree in its spiegeltent on the Southbank. I first saw La Soiree a couple of years ago and was wowed by the show. The winning format is the same with non-stop action on the small stage in the middle of the tent, one act immediately following the previous act without a break. There are acrobats and hula hoops, comedy and contortionists, audience participation and bubbles. Yes, bubbles, but more of that later.

It was compered by Mario Queen of the Circus with his Freddie Mercury look-a-likey juggling, hoola-hooping and comedy act, ultimately crowd-surfing round the stage to 'We Will Rock You'. Another newby was Melanie Chy, the little tough girl on an enormous motorbike who balanced off the various bits of the bike in an amazing demonstration of skill and strength. Another great act was Captain Frodo who squeezed himself through two tennis rackets, falling over and off the stage mid-way through and throwing handfuls of confetti around. He was great fun!

It was also nice to see Asher Treleaven, the Sexualized Gentleman, again, particularly his unique reading of a Mills & Boon-type story that goes just that bit further spoken than it might do in print. He's very naughty.

Stars of the show were, of course, the English Gents in their pinstripe suits and bowler hats, with Denis Lock effortlessly lifting Hamish McCann in all sorts of ways, showing how well trained and strong they both are. And then comes the inevitable strip as they rip of their clothes to stand there in their union jack underwear and do some more startling lifting and balancing. The endless practicing that must go into their act - and probably no few stresses and sprains - is astonishing. How can they do that?

Hamish has his own act at the end of the show to the tune of 'Singing in the Rain' when he plays with the lamp-post, walking upwards in the air while holding onto the post, doing the splits along the length of the post and all sorts. I've seen the act before and it's still gob-smacking. What I hadn't seen was Denis's bubble act in which he delves into bubble magik, creating all sorts of astonishing sights, training the bubbles to do what he wants, even explode into flames at one point. I gave up wondering how he did it to wondering how on earth he had the idea for the act in the first place. It was really marvellous to see. The strong man taming fragile bubbles...

If you get the chance to see La Soiree over the festive season then do so - it really is a great fun show with lots of laughs as well as gasps of wonder. And the staff running the show are the friendliest I've met at any performance - well done folks!

Two Tates and Four Exhibitions - The Second Two

The second two exhibitions were at Tate Modern on Bankside and were visited after the obligatory wander round the Christmas market that fills the forecourt of the gallery. The first was the exhibition of works by Alexander Calder, his wire creations and his lovely mobiles gently turning with any stray breeze. They brought many a moment of delight and childishness, along with great fun too! I'd happily have one of his mobiles hanging from my ceiling.

Some artists find something new and different, something that makes you smile with wonder and that's what Mr Calder managed to do. His delicate creations slowly turning with shadows on the walls and floor adding to the magic of the mobiles. With a few it was as much - if not more - fun to watch the shadows gradually changing, growing and receding than it was to watch the mobiles. But that doesn't matter, it's the total experience. And it's the same with his wire sculptures - they're not line drawings, they're 3D sculptures and great fun they are too. I particularly liked the wire faces that had to be looked at just right to see the full face otherwise they were a mass of mangled wires.

I think my favourite mobile was 'Snow Flurries', a group of round snowflakes of different sizes slowly rotating this was and that, very slowly, with shadows gradually changing. There was something really quite magical just standing there and staring at the mobile as it settled and then set off again. It's gentle and lovely and I can quite see that this mobile would bring the snow in the depths of winter since it mirrored a real flurry of white flakes. If it was real I'd catch some on my tongue.

The second exhibition was the much hyped 'The World Goes Pop' that aimed to show that pop art wasn't just a USA/UK phenomenon but took roots all over the world. That's a very worthy aim but sometimes worthy can go to far and tip into so-so. And that's what I felt, really, a great big 'so what?'.

I liked some of the pieces and they certainly chose one of the best for the poster to advertise the exhibition but it wasn't as busy as the Calder exhibition. There were some interesting exhibits but none of them really grabbed me, certainly not in the way that Calder's works did.

Two Tates and Four Exhibitions - The First Two

I went to Tate Britain to see the Frank Auerback exhibition but accidentally went into the strangely fascinating 'Artists & Empire' exhibition first. 'Empire' is a bit of a charged term these days but it's ripe to plunder for its artistic heritage, as this exhibition amply demonstrates. Yes there are maps showing one quarter of the world coloured red to show the expanse of Empire and yes, there are paintings of governors and others in their version of exotic 'native' costumes and yes, there are paintings illustrating the military might of Empire. But there is a lot more to the exhibition than that.

It's a mix of paintings, sculpture and some textiles and head-dresses and many of the paintings are by non-British artists, artists from around the world that painted scenes from the last big empire. And the paintings aren't just of the great and wealthy, there's a painting of the first former slave Black Barbadian freed woman and property owner who went on to own slaves herself, paintings of crowded cock-fights, of Indian princesses in their finery, of the army taking custody of the sons of enemy nobles as a guarantee of good behaviour, of sad scenes of lovers parting as the man boards a ship to do his duty in some far off place and of women hiding during the Indian mutiny.

Some of the painting stirred strange emotions, such as the scenes of fallen soldiers in some far off and little know war, the last dozen of a regiment surrounded by fallen comrades as the Afghan warriors charge and, reading the sign beside the painting which tells of a captain wrapping himself in the regiment's colours to die only to be left to live and subsequently released by the Afghans. These were real stories that barely trouble the history books but were known at the time. What must it have been like for these young lads to go off to fight in far-flung places when the world was much bigger than it is today, when distances were impossibly huge and they ended up fighting strange peoples at the word of their masters and, let's face it, it was all about money and power for the few at the top of the pile that never faced these dangers. Was it all about adventure or did they have little choice but to go and take the King's shilling?

There are also paintings of the subjects of Empire as well, such as an intense double portrait of two Sikh gentlemen in their turbans and uniform before they went to fight for the British in the trenches of  First World War France. They were captains who survived the war but what must it have been like for them? A sign elsewhere noted that one in six of the soldiers in the First World War were from the Empire but where is this history told and what happened to them, dying half a world away from where they grew up for an Empire that barely valued them other than as fodder. 

The exhibition ends with some more contemporary works to show how the former colonies have been able to reconcile their more recent histories and draw new artistic freedoms from it. It's odd to think that the Empire isn't that long gone and it was the First World War that was the beginning of the end and the  Indian partition finally ended it. Do I feel guilty about the Empire? It brought massive wealth to this country but my people were just as much servants of Empire as anyone else under its rule around the globe, working in the fields and down the mines. I suspect that if I'd been born 200 years ago and sought to escape poverty by adventuring abroad I would've 'gone native' under the Raj and lived as an eccentric. I still might do that.

The Frank Auerbach exhibition was a very different creature, showing his works from the 1950s onwards as his style and vision developed. I know nothing about Mr Auerback but I now know that he's had a studio at Mornington Crescent (just up from Camden in North London) for decades because he painted the area so frequently. And what vibrant paintings they are too - or at least some of them.

His paintings are thick with paint, laid on by a palette knife and chunky brushes, lots of layers and textures on the canvas. A few of them made me want to climb into that froth of paint and explore his colourful North London streets  No doubt it'll be far from the grey concrete and red brick reality of those streets.

I'm not entirely sure what he was trying to say - and is still trying to say - but I'd love to have a chat about it over a glass of wine some day and how I can find my way into his vision of Mornington Crescent ...

Vicky Pattison to WIN!

I made a tactical error last night when I turned on the telly and saw Ant and Dec introducing 'I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here' and thought I'd see what me Geordie lads were up to these days.  And then I noticed that the format was the same as it always was but something kept me from turning over and it was a woman who looked vaguely familiar. Then I was all 'it's HER, I know HER' and realised it was Vicky from 'Geordie Shore'. I've only seen repeats of that awful programme but too late, I was caught.

Vicky was doing a daft challenge with another reality TV "star" and she came across as a very likeable lass (no mentions of 'bangin' or booze anywhere) and had a lovely manner. I decided that I *like* her. I liked her even more when she took the piss out of herself for trying to look sexy while having a shower but she kept getting soap in her eyes. Down to earth is nice.

Vicky to WIN!

'Xanadu' - The Last Performance at Southwark Playhouse

Saturday night was the final performance of 'Xanadu' at Southwark Playhouse and it was sold out with a long queue to get into the theatre to grab good seats. Productions at Southwark never seem to run for very long but it's put on a couple of good 'uns this year, with 'Grand Hotel' over the summer and now 'Xanadu'. In both cases the cast were really getting into their stride when the run ended and last night's performance of 'Xanadu' was an excellent farewell from the cast.

The cast have grown into their roles, they know where the best laughs are and where there's scope to go over the top and the skating is with so much more confidence than the first time I saw them. Now is when the show should really be taking off but instead it's closed. I still have hopes that it might transfer into the West End but, even if it did, it probably wouldn't be the same. I still want to see it again, though.

The cast were all great fun and I want to record their names for posterity:

Carly Anderson as Kira/Clio, our heroine and leader of the Muses with the most fabulous Ozstralian accent ever.

Samuel Edwards as Sonny, our rather dim hero in short cut-offs and red headband.

Alison Jiear as Melpomene, the Evil Woman herself, she would smite Clio if she was a god.

Lizzy Connolly as Calliope, the other Evil Woman, cackling around the stage.

Emily McGoughan as Euterpe, who doubles as Maggie Smith in 'Clash of Titans'.

Nicholas Duncan as Thalia in his little blue skirt and Cylops mask.

Micha Richardson as Erato with her flowing locks and handy telephone box.

Joel Burman as Terpsicore with his big 'fro and alter-ego as a centaur.

Nigel Barber as Danny/Zeus who fell in love with Clio 40 years ago and built Xanadu for her.

It was all great fun and, if you missed it, you only have yourself to blame. I advised everyone to see it after my first visit and if you ignored that advice then you've got nobody to blame except for yourself.

It brought a smile to my face and a laugh to my throat before singing along to the finale of 'Xanadu'. I am honoured to use the sacred sigil of crossed forearms in front of the chest creating an X sign. This show will have a cosy little warm place in my heart and I will watch out for the magical cast in future - I hope they all go on to become great big international stars - including in Oz! And then I'll be able to say that I saw them when they daft and lovely in a little known musical off the Elephant & Castle.

Thank you cast and crew and thank you to Southwark Playhouse for bringing joy and light, even if only for a few weeks. Here's hoping for a transfer...

'French Without Tears' at the Orange Tree Theatre

We went on another visit to the Orange Tree Theatre in Richmond to see the penultimate performance of 'French Without Tears' by Terence Rattigan. How fitting that this tale of upper-middle class young men should be in upper-middle class Richmond. I've seen a few Rattigan plays over the years and they're all of their time, generally including lots of posh people, but the only one I actually liked was his tale of airmen in the Second World War in 'Flare Path' (with Sheridan Smith and Sienna Miller).

'French Without Tears' is one of his earlier plays and is set in a house on the French coast at which various posh young men are staying to learn French. As well as the middle aged teacher and his daughter (who also teaches), a young lady is staying with her brother because she has nowhere else to go since her talks are in India. The appropriately named Diana is a femme fatale and her prey in men. Two of the young men are learning French to help them pass the entrance exams for 'the Diplomatic', another is a rich young man with nothing better to do while another wants to learn French for 'commercial reasons'. They are soon joined by a new student in the form of a stiff upper lip naval commander. And the scene is set.

The constant bickering between the men in the first half makes most of them rather unpleasant characters and Alan who wants to join 'the Diplomatic' since his father is a diplomat is distinctly misogynistic with a definite downer on women and Diana in particular. Diana is a man-hunter, always needing a man to fall in love with her and as soon as she's achieved that then searches for a new man to make fall in love. It's her nature, as she says at one point. When the commander arrives she sets her sights on him and effortlessly wins him, much to the chagrin of Kit, who also loves her. The men start to fight and, during verbal sparring realise that Diana has said the same thing to each of them and realise that game's afoot. This aces them all bond as brothers to fight off the spells of Diana. It was only in the latter stages of this half that I started to see anything likeable in any of the male characters.

In the second half, Kit and the Commander win free so Diana sets her sights on Alan and effortlessly makes him fall for her. O dear, men are such fragile creatures. He also wins free and decides to chuck in becoming a diplomat and wants to go back to England to become a writer. In the meantime, Kit has decided that he really loves Jacqueline, the French teacher who has loved him for two months and the Commander, of course, has his love of the sea. And Diana? Well, there are always other men.

The characters are almost universally awful except for Jacqueline (played by Sarah Winter with a very good accent) who is sympathetic throughout and Brian (played for laughs by Tom Hanson), the bluff Englishman with the atrocious franglais accent and who likes the company of the local ladies of the night for 50 francs a pop. Tom had some of the best lines in the play and plays Brian as a jolly good sport, liked by all, not terribly bright but a good egg. The best line for me was when talking about Diana and how she turns the green light on men she likes then said she was 'pretty stingey with the orange and red ones' - that tickled my funny bone no end. Genevieve Gaunt was also fun (in a two dimensional way given her character) as Diana, never without a cigarette on the go and exposing flesh whenever possible.

The staging was nice but the costumes were awful, with hems frayed and seams not straight and all seemed a little too big for the people wearing them. O well, you can't have it all in small theatres. But, at least, once again, the Orange Tree has put on something a bit different that no-one else seems to want to play so it's worth it for that alone. I'll keep an eye out for Sarah Winter and Tom Hanson - it'll be interesting to see where they turn up next.

'Monotones I & II / Two Pigeons' at the Royal Opera House

Last week we went to see more ballet at the Royal Opera House, this time a couple of abstract, non-narrative works set to the wonderful music of Erik Satie - Monotones I & II - and 'Two Pigeons', a tale of love and loss and finding your love again. And there really are pigeons. Both were performed by the Royal Ballet. Sitting in the Amphitheatre gives you a spectacular, panoramic view totally unobstructed to drink in the sights in front of you, both in the orchestra and on the stage. My eyes stay on the stage.

It's always a delight to go into the wonderful Royal Opera House, with it's plush reds and golds, high ceilings and ultra-polite staff. Walking through the champagne bar and up the escalator to the Amphitheatre bar with it's dramatic views over the champagne bar on one side and out into the open-air balcony over-looking Covent Garden on the other. A Covent Garden now lit up with Christmas lights and a rampant reindeer at the entrance to the market. I'm quietly looking forward to seeing the Royal Opera House decked out in its Christmas finery in December, I bet it will look most fab.

'Monotones' are two short ballets danced back to back, the first featuring two men and one woman, and the second with two women and one man. Three dancers in each, the first three wearing light green costumes and the second wearing white. Dramatic movement and lighting means you never know what they'll do next, pulling dramatic shapes and then holding the pose. The gentle piano music of Erik Satie was a marvellous accompaniment to the two ballets. 'Monotone I' is danced to 'Trois Gnossiennes' and 'Monotone II' is danced to 'Trois Gymnopedies', both pieces very calming and restful as the dancers move and gyrate. I suspect most people reading this will have heard at least the main theme of 'Gymnopedies' but 'Gnossiennes' was new to me and I liked it.

The dancers in 'Monotone I' could probably have done with another few days of rehearsal, not always properly synchronised and a bit wobbly when on one leg, but it was lovely to watch. I preferred the perfection of 'Monotone II', opening with the ballerina standing on pointe on one leg with the other at 180 degrees straight up, being slowly turned by the two men dancers before lifting and moving her around the stage. It was a great to watch the elegance and poise of the dancers taking up the whole stage to the strains of Satie's lovely music.  Lots of clapping for the six dancers at the end.

After the interval it was time for the opening act of 'Two Pigeons', opening in the artist's garret in Paris while he tries to paint a fidgeting girl in a white tutu. He gives up and sulks while she tries to catch his attention and then some neighbours come a-calling to further prevent him working. And two pigeons fly across the window. Then appears a troupe of gypsies in colour clothes along with a gypsy girl who attracts his attention. He is captivated by her vitality and energetic dancing, so much more alive than the girl he was trying to paint, wild and brash, unafraid of life. The gypsies all leave and the artist grabs his cloak to follow, leaving the girl alone in the garret studio.

The second half moves the action to the gypsy camp and a wild party with energetic dancing from everyone as the artist and the girl's lover have a dance-off for her attentions. The artist loses both the dance-off and the girl. The final scene sees the artist walking down the steps to his garret where his former girl is still waiting for him. He has a pigeon on his shoulder and offers it to her before placing it on the back of a chair.  I thought it was a false pigeon since it was so still, and then it moved - a trained pigeon indeed. And then the second one flew across the stage to land beside the first on the back of the chair - what a lovely, magical surprise! And our two lovers are united again. Clap clap clap!

It was a lovely production, moving between wild and joyous to quiet and contemplative as the dancers tell their story. I liked Iana Salenko as the girl and Steven McRae as the artist and saw both of them dancing as Romeo and Juliet a few weeks ago, making a nice pairing again. I also liked Fumi Kaneko who danced up a storm as the gypsy girl. I also liked the pigeons that provided a wonderful surprise - how do you train a pigeon? The final scene was lovely to see, the artist and his love together with the two pigeons of the title. More clap clap clapping.