Six Pictures
Of Lee Miller
The Minerva Theatre, Chichester Festival
Theatre, Thursday 14 July 2005
Review by Emma Shane
© July 2005
A few months ago, while watching the excellent BBC 4 series on the
history of Broadway Musicals, feeling during the last episode, at the way
creation of new musicals has changed. I couldn’t help thinking “I wish a
producer could just get a team together to create a musical, leave them to get
on with it, and stage the end result, like they did in the good old days, with
out endless work shopping, try-outs, and attempting to be the next
block-buster.” Imagine my surprise and delight on opening the latest issue of ‘Spotlight
On Musicals’(magazine
of The Stage Musicals Appreciation Society) to find that is exactly
what The Chichester Festival Theatre are doing. I knew they were putting
on a new musical about the photographer Lee Miller, but I didn’t know
they had commissioned in that good old way. Now in that
situation, besides a budget and a deadline, it good sense to hire a creative
team who are good enough to rise to the challenge, and daring enough to make
the most of the opportunity. Chichester
has given this chance to playwright Edward Kemp and composer Jason
Carr. I was not too familiar with Kemp’s work. But I liked what I had heard
so far of Carr’s, at least where his own compositions are concerned. Some of
his arrangements of other people’s work have a tendency to be rather bizarre.
They’re quite innovative, but one is sometimes left wondering what the songwriters
themselves would have thought of them. All I had heard so far of Carr’s song
writing was: one complete musical (The Water Babies, at
Chichester two years ago, his composer compilation CD Listen Up!
and one other “trunk” song that had found its way into a cabaret act
three years ago); so I was still a little apprehensive wondering whether I’d
actually enjoy witnessing this new show.
This is going to be
one of my reviews, where it is appropriate to say: if you were not able to get
to see this show then this may give you some idea of what it was like, if you
did see it then this may aid your memory of it, finally if you are
contemplating seeing it and don’t want a plot spoiler then please skip the bulk
of this but just read the last three paragraphs.
The show opens with five strong orchestra playing the Prologue.
There is something sparky about it. A welcome
liveliness that seems to be characteristic of Carr’s instrumental pieces (at
least the ones I’ve heard). Into Picture One - Poughkeepsie, New
York State 1923. Lee or rather Lee Lee as she was then known, full name Elizabeth, aged about 16. First on stage Leading Lady Anna Francolini in the title role, in a shirt and dungarees,
she leans against a table centre stage, not speaking. Swiftly
followed by Lee’s parents Theodore and Florence
played by Brendan O’Hea and Beverly Klein.
A doctor, played by Teddy Kempner, is just leaving. It is implied,
though never explicitly stated, that Elizabeth
has contracted some kind of venereal disease, a Navel Rating played by Gary
Milner appears in front of her. This sets the tone for the whole piece. It
is very subtle, and the audience is going to have to work hard to understand
and ‘get it’. Perhaps to take his daughter’s mind off the disease
(fortunately been caught early on), Theodore shows Lee Lee
“the latest thing from Europe” Stereoscopic
Camera. This first number is grabbing. Carr’s Porteresque
lyrics fit his melody beautifully. Unfortunately in an age of Lloyd-Webber
& Rice musicals where a soundtrack album was always released first,
pop-group-back-catalogue shows, revivals, and film-musical adaptations theatre
audiences are apt to forget what it was like to hear good new music afresh for
the very first time in a theatre; It takes a while for the audience to remember
how closely it needs to pay attention to the songs in order to appreciate them
fully. On with the plot, Lee Lee, removes her
dungarees and shirt (in a careful manner reminiscent of Anna Francolini’s
performance in the title role in The Ballad Of Little Jo); poses
in her undergarments, and takes the opportunity of helping Theodore develop the
picture, to tell him of some difficulties with regards to schooling; however,
photography is going to be her future. Sitting on a trunk staring at the image
she sings Lee. She won’t have any other diminutive of her name,
not even Lee Lee, henceforth she will be known as Lee
Miller. This was a lovely song for Anna Francolini
to sing. Musically it was good, it suited her voice
well, and had a delightful lyric running cleverly through all the diminutives
of Elizabeth.
With the leading lady donning a brown coat/dress, the action shifts to Picture
Two - Paris, France 1929-35. Starting
with Lee looking for Man Ray, played by Teddy
Kempner (dressed in a blue boiler-suit and off-white coat), to whom she has
a letter of introduction. Francolini brilliantly
delivers a good line of Kemp’s, Lee says she only knows about two things, one
is photography, and the other she doesn’t want to mention (clearly implying
sex). This is a beautifully subtle script. Man Ray is not interested in taking
her on as a photographic student, or even a model, until she mentions that she
dated Charlie Chaplin, then she becomes
interesting to all the people she meets, but she just wants to meet Picasso, The
Artist Of The Day. This is one of the biggest, wittiest, funniest
production numbers in the show. In fact it is such a long one it could almost
get tedious, but doesn’t because although quite repetitive in parts, Carr has
carefully incorporated enough changes to keep it fresh and surprising. The
number covers an unspecified period of time in Paris during which she meets: Man
Ray, a poet named Eluard, writer (later
turned film-maker) Jean Cocteau, Gertrude Stein, and her
companion Alice B Toklas, played by Teddy
Kempner, Gary Milner, Mark Meadows, Beverley Klein and
Anna Lowe respectively. Eluard and Cocteau
both enter, in separate verses, on bicycles, and cycle round the stage before
putting their bikes in the wings, while Stein enters sitting on a kind of
rickshaw affair, pushed by Toklas. Each of the three
main characters introduced in this number have their own special verses,
summarising them. There are also some common refrains. Kempner, sometimes
joined by others, sings “And this is Lee, the girl who dated Chaplin”,
while Francolini chipping in “You mean to say you
know Picasso too.” at which the others will invariably reply that everybody
knows Picasso, the artiste of the day. The number, perhaps predictably,
concludes with the entrance of Pablo Picasso, played by Brendan O’Hea. Musically it is very pleasant, and lyrically
awfully clever, the way Carr has worked specific characteristics of the
characters into the verses. It is followed by one of Carr’s more poignant
numbers, What Is An Artiste ?, sung by O’Hea
as Picasso. Although in the context of the musical for which it is written he
is referring to visual artistes such as painters and photographers, it seems to
me that this is one of the numbers in the show that might very well work out of
context; in such a case the artiste could refer not just to visual artistes,
but also writers, composers, and even performance artistes too; what is an
artiste indeed? On with the plot, in Man Ray’s studio, in spite of the
distractions from Aziz Eloui
Bey, an Egyptian businessman played Melvin
Whitfield, Man Ray is trying to photograph Aziz’s
wife Nimet Eloui Bey, played by Anna Lowe (who makes a good job
of the “foreign” accent). Lee, by now Man Ray’s lover, arrives, in time to
assist, there is clearly something going on between her an Aziz.
Once Aziz and Nimet depart,
Man Ray and Lee develop the pictures, and quarrel, in the dark; Lee announces
she has rented her own studio, now that she is beginning to get her own
commissions, she’s none too happy about them being together all the time, Looking
At You. This number was pleasant enough and
unlike so much modern music, certainly did not abuse ones ears, however this
duet seemed to me one of the least memorable numbers in the show. But, that may
just be because so many of the other numbers did stand out, and with it being
such a very new score, one is not at all familiar with it; sometimes one really
has to hear a song a few times, before it sinks into consciousness. Two things are memorable about the number.
The first is Francolini playing seductively with her
clothing, a pale-blue skirt and easily removable top. The number also works
dramatically. Lee has been taking photographs at a hospital, and brought Man
Ray back a present (in a bucket covered by a cloth), a severed breast, which
she “saved from the furnace”, Francolini
delivered that line with delicious enthusiasm. At the height of their quarrel,
Lee accidentally (or perhaps not) switches on a light, ruining the picture they
are trying to develop, Man Ray jealously thinks it is
a ploy to get Aziz to return. But they find the
resulting picture is not ruined, they have created something new in
photographic art, the solarized photograph.
Meanwhile Poet and Writer Jean Cocteau ventures into directing
films, with a particularly witty piece of writing from Kemp, about having hired
a very intelligent cameraman. He wrote to all the cameramen in Paris, and this was the
only one who replied. Cocteau, Stein, Aziz, Tocklas, and, Eluard go into The
Blood Of A Poet. Unfortunately Cocteau says,
he can’t abide actors, and so for his new surreal film, he is going to use
people who are not primarily actors. There are film directors around today who
would share his point of view here (and since the demise of ‘closed shop’ such
directors have the freedom to do as they wish, assuming they can get funding
for their film). In Cocteau’s case he has a problem casting as a statue (that
comes to life). Nimet refuses, though he wasn’t going
to ask her. The solution, obvious to most of them, is Lee. The filming is
represented by a dance number (no singing) Le Boeuf
sur le Toit. Francolini, in another pale blue outfit, with some kind of
shawl, walks about on chairs, which various members of the company keep moving
around the stage. I suppose its kind of surreal. At
the end of the number several members of the cast converse about the film. It’s
all change, with Francolini
striding onto an empty stage asking Has Anybody Seen Man Ray?
Quite a memorable number, witty, exciting, and generally the kind of thing one
would expect a really good musical theatre songwriter to produce. Yes Jason
Carr has given Anna Francolini a good song
to sing, and she, being the wonderful singing actress that she is, does it full
justice. The number is made even more memorable by the performance of Kempner,
as Man Ray, clearly jealous of Lee having other lovers, joining her on stage,
brandishing a pistol, he acted so well, one could almost have thought he joined
in even though (at least according to the programme) he didn’t. There then
arrives on the scene a newcomer, but one whom who knows anything about Lee
Miller, will know is important, in some ways you
might call him the romantic lead. Enter Brendan O’Hea
in his final character, Roland Penrose. He has come to buy a painting
from Picasso, a portrait of Lee, he has fallen in love
with. Kemp has written a nice little subtle dramatic scene, during which the
characters Roland and Lee discuss the portrait; he probably knows it’s her but
doesn’t say so, and neither does she. But at present that relationship is
merely a diversion. On with the plot, Lee decides to leave Man Ray, for Aziz (who is divorcing Nimet). At
which point we have what might be some kind of barbershop trio Now That
You Are Mine, sung by three of Lee’s lovers, Man Ray, Aziz, and of course Penrose.
Picture Three - Cairo Egypt, 1938 finds Lee and Aziz unhappily married. He would willingly divorce her if
she could find someone else. Roland arrives for a visit, and Lee takes great
delight in organising what he is going to do, Pictures Of
Egypt. This number, was very nicely sung by Francolini, and Carr’s music and lyrics were pleasant and
enjoyable. Some members of the audience clearly found it quite captivating. Certainly a satisfactory number to end the act on. Actually
they end with a burst of sound that is clearly meant to symbolise the outbreak
of war (World War Two), so we all know where the second act is
heading, or do we?
Act Two opens with Picture Four - London
1942. The Entr’acte (Pictures Of Cynthia) finds Lee, a
fashion photographer for British Vogue, in The Natural History
Museum photographing a model,Cynthia,
played by Anna Lowe. It’s not quite explained how she got away from Egypt and Aziz. Her current lover, David Scherman,
a photojournalist, played by Mark Meadows, is on leave, with little time
to spare. He tells her about photographing bombing raids, Death In The Clouds. As a lyricist Carr must have been
doing his homework to come up with this! It’s a song that might just work out
of the context of the show, with a brief explanation that the character singing
it is a World War Two photojournalist. Meadows sings with a lot of feeling, and
certainly puts it across well, he really acts the song out. Scherman
suggests to Lee she should become a photojournalist too. But how can she when Britain doesn’t
allow women anywhere near the front line? Lee remembers, on her passport she is
still an American. Penrose, a Captain in a camouflage division (the script
makes out it is what he is best suited ton) also on leave turns up at the
museum; and, while Lee helps Cynthia change, they are joined by Audrey
Withers, the editor of British Vogue, played by Beverley Klein, who
is wondering how to make the magazine more relevant in wartime. Scherman suggests they have their own war correspondent,
the obvious candidate being Lee. After all she loves trying to get into
places she’s not supposed to be in. Kemp has given Meadows and Klein some
great lines, which they do justice to. It becomes obvious that Francolini has been off stage changing her costume for the
next scene.
Picture Northern Europe 1944-5 finds Lee being
initiated into the army by Major Spiros and Sergeant
Magee of the US Army Civil Affairs played by Melvin Whitfield and Gary
Milner respectively, along with Scherman, Mrs
Miller. This is one of Carr’s bounciest and catchiest songs; only title
doesn’t seem to quite describe it. The song is largely about how there’s no women on the front line, “because the
women at the front stay safely at the back”. Although it is a number sung
to and with a woman photojournalist, In many ways it
sums up the position of woman in various sectors of the forces during World War
Two, such as: Auxiliary Transport Air, and, medical divisions, as well as
journalists. It could probably work very well in a review or concert outside of
the specific context of the musical for which it is written, as long as the
time-period in which it is set is explained. It’s a strikingly brilliant
musical number; the kind of well written tune all to
often lacking in new musicals today. Just as Lee gets to supposedly safe St Malo, there is an air raid. Meanwhile back in Britain, Audrey
is exclaiming (to Roland) over the photographs and reports Lee has been sending
back, The Defining Moment. She’s good at getting where she’s
not supposed to be. Then Audrey learns that Lee has got herself arrested, she
was caught trying to photograph a tank battle! Back at the front, Lee,
distinctly board, under ‘House Arrest’, welcomes a visit from Dave, and
even more Roland. She offers them some sort of liquor kept in a petrol
drum! Spiros
turns up with the news, she’s released, they need her for a job, but he reminds
her of her position, with a reprise of Mrs Miller. In Cologne the four of them
encounter a German restaurant owner, who claims not to be a Nazi. Kemp uses the
scene to make some very telling comments about both war, and dictatorship
regimes. Carr follows this up musically with a song written for Klein, in her
Audrey Withers guise, Brave New World. This is one of the most
poignant songs I have ever heard. Both musically and lyrically it’s beautiful
and moving. It really gets to me. It is so much the feeling of The Allies in
1945 “We won’t make the mistakes of Versailles” It is a moving song full
or peace and hope, but the poignancy comes from knowing with hindsight that the
world has not grown so kind. I knew Carr was a fine songwriter, but I didn’t
know he could write something so beautifully heart rendering as this. It is
quite extraordinary; and a song which I really hope will have a life outside of
the show; for my goodness, does it deserves it. My memory actually thought this
next bit of scene came before Brave New World, but the programme
says it comes after; Anyway, we come at last to a scene representing one of the
best known moments in Lee Miller’s life. Scherman’s famous photograph of her
in Hitler’s bathtub in Munich.
I surmise that the scene itself takes place shortly after that moment. Scherman is asking her the hurry up as the rest of them could
do with a scrub up too. Spiros and Magee are
fascinated by the flat and Hitler’s possessions. The scene concludes with Lee
finally emerging, wearing a dressing gown with the initials AH on it, what a
subtle little touch; Alone on the stage, looking at the back projected portrait
of the Furher, Francolini
wraps her lovely voice around A Portrait of A H. This too is a
moving number, and I couldn’t help noticing what I think was a passing
reference to Richard Wagner in one of the lyrics?
Picture Six - Farely Farm, Muggles
Green. Sussex
1953 opens with a surprise! Dark stage, suddenly up in one corner of the
auditorium above an aisle a trapeze it lit up, on it is Anna Lowe in her
finale character. Ariane, a circus performer, who is Looking
For A Bear. A big finale production number,
during which Lowe clambers over the back of the auditorium around the audience,
which has nothing today with the plot, As Audrey Withers asks (in an attempted
by Kemp to give the number some relevance) “Yes but why in Sussex?”
Which got a huge laugh, because of course not only has the plot shifted to Sussex, but we
are actually in that particular county. This is the kind of thing that happens
in musicals, or at least it used to. The number is included for no reason other
than that The Composer wanted it put in. And when composers really want
a particular number included, it is as well for the book-writer to find a means
of doing so, because otherwise you end up with homeless song that the composer
will then spend the next n years trying to find a home for, so as to be able to
forget about it - remember the saga Irving Berlin’s Mr Monotony?
Thus if Carr wants a song about Looking For A
Bear shoved in then why not? In many ways this extraordinary number
rather sums up the spirit of the whole show. Carr and Kemp have been given a
good deal of freedom to express themselves, and they’ve made the most of it.
Besides Ariane and Audrey, also present are: Man Ray,
Roland Penrose (by now Lee’s husband), and, David Scherman.
All of them are intermittently involved with assisting with the coo, Lee.
Roland and Ariane go off to inspect a bonfire and
look for a cauliflower respectively, together. Man Ray, despite being Jewish,
gets asked to paint a lobster. David finds himself helping Lee to clear an old
trunk out of her way. It contains old photographic equipment, and stuff they
picked up in Europe in 1944-45. At this point
music has been underscoring the scene, but now it dies away with a last string
note, that just reminded me of two things (one of them being Lloyd-Webber’s
With One Look, only it is musically rather superior to that song;
the other being Nicholas Bloomfield’s Come To Me - Safe In My Arms
- the last note of that was also symbolic, in his case a fox killed by the
hounds). Here in Sussex,
after this last note of Carr’s there is no more music. It ends because Lee has
put her camera away. She is more a definition of an alcoholic than ever, does
not know how to get her life back together, and she doesn’t want her head
shrunk. She thought perhaps clearing the trunk would help, but doesn’t know
why. However, there is still some dialogue to get through. Lee eventfully
agrees to take the photographs for a book on Picasso. The show ends with her
just sitting on the trunk staring out at the audience, much like she did at the
beginning. In fact for such a subtle sophisticated piece of theatre, this last
pose seems to have been held for took short a time, it
could have gone on a bit longer. All too soon the houselights came up, and the
rest of the cast come on to take their bows.
This is a fine new contribution to the world of music theatre, and a
piece which surely deserves a wider audience, although not too wide. I think it
would be nice if the piece could be seen elsewhere, but let’s not make the
mistake (they made with Eurovision - which also had a score by
Carr) of trying to put it on in a big West End
theatre. It is not a mass crowd-puller block buster type of Musical, but
then it is clearly not meant to be. This is a sophisticated piece of music
theatre, more in style of a Stephen Sondheim or possibly Kurt Weill piece. It would probably be best suited to a
strictly limited run (with the kind of small budget associated with that)
perhaps in one of the smaller West End Theatres, such as The Fortune Theatre
or the Donmar Warehouse. It would be
even better suited to one of the better fringe venues such as The Orange
Tree (in Richmond Surrey), The Hampstead Theatre (which has recently
seen a Chichester transfer play, Three Women And A Piano Tuner -
that also has music by Carr); and of course the late lamented Bridewell Theatre (in the days when it had a
proper professional Theatre company, well accustomed to Sondheim and other
works of sophisticated music theatre, and home to two of Francolini’s
great triumphs) would have been ideal. I would urge anyone running a theatre in
the kind of vein mentioned above to consider this interesting, innovative and
very well written new musical.
Carr and Kemp have
done a splendid job, the lyrics and score sparkle as the perfect accompaniment
to a witty script and versa vice. The talented cast of seven have some
fine material to work with, and they do it full justice. Gary Milner and
Melvin Whitfield provide good support. Anna Lowe manages to amaze
us with her versatility, in four roles, ending up on the trapeze Looking For A Bear. Brendan O’Hea and Mark Meadows play their various roles
so well that without reading the programme one would have a hard job
recognising them in their different guises. Beverly Klein acts Kemp’s
lines with perfect aplomb, and sings Carr’s songs brilliantly,
especially Brave New World,
which is incredibly moving. Like Cole Porter and Stephen Sondheim
before him, Jason Carr seems to have a knack for writing terrific scores
for musical theatre leading ladies to sing (his last musical at Chichester, The
Water Babies two years ago, surely gave Louise Gold one of her
greatest roles). So a show written by a songwriter like that,
needs to have a leading lady who can do it justice. And this show has one such
in the form of Anna Francolini. She acts
Kemp’s script with a brilliance like that of her
performance in The Ballad Of Little Jo, and there are distinct
similarities with the role she is performing. However the part of Lee Miller
is better than Jo Monahan, not least because the score is rather
superior. Yes Sarah Schlesinger and Mike Read did a passable job
with the latter. But as a songwriter Carr is, well, something special. Needless
to say, the orchestra of five do Carr’s score, and his own orchestrations,
justice, as one would expect at The Chichester Festival Theatre. The
only reason for the songs not to quite catch in ones mind is that we are
hearing them for the first time. Some of them certainly sounded so good to me
that I think they deserve a wider audience perhaps via use in Gala’s, cabaret,
revue, or of course on an album (I feel this is particularly true of: What
Is An Artiste?, Brave New World, Mrs Miller,
and, Looking For A Bear, but it might well be true of: Stereoscopic
Camera, Lee, Pictures of Egypt, Death
In The Clouds, and, Portrait Of A.H.- In other words most
of the score).
But the very best
thing of all about this musical is its carefree almost throwaway spirit. It
goes where it’s writers feel like taking it, never
mind where the audience think it should go. Far too many contemporary musicals
try to impress the audience with spectacle. This piece doesn’t do that. It
simply concentrates on being very good; A well-written and well-performed piece
of sophisticated new music theatre. If the musical is to continue to grow as an
art form, and not become merely bland mass entertainment, then we need more
theatre’s to follow the example of Chichester, in commissioning a new piece in
the good old fashioned way, hiring a writing team they trust, and then giving
them a degree of freedom to create their own innovative work of art the best
way they can. And with this show, Six Pictures Of Lee Miller,
that is exactly what those accomplished music theatre writers Jason Carr
and Edward Kemp (surely a Stephen Sondheim and John Weidman
kind of team in the making) have done. Their new creation deserves to take a
place in music theatre history, and I sincerely hope it does. If you regard
yourself as a sophisticated theatre-goer, and you get the chance to see this
piece, then I think it is worth seeing. It is a wonderful chance to see
something really fresh and yet very good in the medium for which it is
intended, the theatre.
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Off Site Links:
The
Chichester Festival Theatre’s Official Website: http://www.cft.org.uk/
Composer
Jason Carr’s
Official Website: http://www.jasoncarr.org.uk/
Script Writer Edward Kemp’s Official Website: http://www.edwardkemp.co.uk/
The Lee MillerTM Archive, Official Website: http://www.leemiller.co.uk/main.aspx
To read my
review of another Jason Carr musical at Chichester,
The Water Babies, please click here.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
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