From archive footage of National Youth Music Theatre's production of SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH GEORGE. Music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim. Book by James Lapine. Produced by NYMT at The Other Palace, London - August 2017.
Director - Hannah Chissick
Musical Director - Alex Aitken
Choreographer - Sam Spencer Lane
Set Designer - Matt Kinley
Costume Designer - Jason Denvir
Lighting Designer - Mike Robertson
Sound Designer - Avgoustos Psillas for Autograph
Producer - Jeremy Walker for NYMT
Julian Eaves [BritishTheatre.com] wrote:
Director Hannah Chissick, who scored a terrific success with NYMT’s revival of Ben Till’s stunning new Great War epic musical drama, ‘Brass‘, at the Hackney Empire, returned to the company full of insights into how it functions – and how to get the very best out of its fine players, recruited from the most talented young actors and musicians across the country. Working with accomplished choreographer Sam Spencer-Lane and superb designer Matt Kinley, with veteran lighting designer Mike Robertson and leading industry sound designer Avgoustas Psillas, Chissick and tireless producer Jeremy Walker have assembled a cracking team of the best professionals to support the work of these young people. And they also have a trump card up their sleeve: upcoming musical director Alex Aitken, whose work on ‘Brass’ last year propelled him into national attention.
This work is about the challenges of art and demands nothing if not complete artistic commitment from its creative team, cast and band.
This tremendous philosophical sweep is difficult enough for adults to grasp, let alone communicate, so how much more remarkable, then, does this stunning production appear, when we consider the perfection of execution achieved by this company. In the leads, Laura Barnard (21) asserts authority and maturity from the outset as the artist’s muse, Dot: the most varied role – she has to double as her aged daughter in the second act, before coming back as her own ghost – it is also far and away the most theatrically demanding; with vocal and dramatic skills of the highest calibre, Barnard announces here she is amongst the best interpreters of the role this country has seen or heard. Alongside her, the less sympathetic part of Georges, played with staggering credibility by 19-year old Thomas Josling, is a minefield of problems, none of which seem to have stood a chance against this expert actor with a lush and perfectly controlled voice, and the intelligence to recreate the artist’s turbulent and vital mix of youthful energy and iron dedication. Between them, they make you believe completely in who they are and what they’re doing.
The reason for the success of this production is that it utterly understands the intention of the work, and it does not permit any single detail to intrude without insisting it is earned. Even a sudden and fleeting whisp of stage smoke is demanded by a passing reference in the script. And thus it is with every single visual component of the mis-en-scene, the elegantly moving easels and canvases that make up the entire substance of these people’s universe; there isn’t a single move by an actor on stage that doesn’t continue the eloquent articulation of the driving force within this incredibly assured and evocative realisation. In short, this is not just about ‘Art’, it is a conversation about what theatre is.
When the story shifts to Chicago a century later in the second act, Kinley’s design really holds the whole show together: his sparing use of colour in an otherwise monochrome world makes the audience yearn for not only pigment, but its truthful and meaningful use. The ghastly mockery of the modern ‘installation’ rigged up by the descendant of the painter (also played – unnervingly unrecognisably – by Thomas Josling) and his technical goons, the Chromolume, is sad, rather than laughable, its melancholy feeding off the frustration the purveyor feels when he knows himself to be lost, unable to express anything with any depth. For this, we have to return – as we did at the end of the first act – to the work’s finest moment, the transcendental chorale of ‘Sunday’, a piece of such forthright humanism that it demolishes all that has gone before it, and speaks directly to the heart with immense force and passion.
Yes, there are still people who say there is no ’emotion’ in Stephen Sondheim. They have obviously never seen this play. They should. And, perhaps, soon, they might have another chance to. Meanwhile, this brilliant memory of this NYMT production will shine in the hearts of those who were fortunate enough to see it. For those who didn’t, then all I can say is, please – if you can – try and find time to see the productions of this astonishing young company. Your life will not be the same again.
