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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Revival of Six Pictures of Lee Miller |