Theatre

As a rule I don’t like the music of over-hyped Belgian chansonnier Jacques Brel – as far as I’m concerned, ‘Brel’ rhymes with ‘hell’ and ‘Ne Me Quitte Pas’ is one of the worst pieces of self-pitying emotional abjection in the history of song.  So I was astonished to find myself enthralled by this show featuring South African cabaret performer Claire Watling (pictured).

Geoffrey Hyland’s staging couldn’t be simpler. After accompanist Godfrey Johnson has taken his seat , Watling steps out on high heels and makes her way gingerly across a stage appropriately strewn with leaves – Brel’s songs about loss, decline and the passage of time have an autumnal feel. The stage furniture consists of just two chairs, while the ‘props’ are limited to a chiffony scarf. There’s no between-song chit-chat either, which makes for a much more intense experience – just 17 dynamically sequenced, smartly lit and dramatically executed songs performed back to back: ‘The Middle Class’ and ‘Marieke’ and ‘Amsterdam’ and ‘Tenderness’ make for particularly bravura pairings, moving effortlessly in tone between social satire, punkish savagery and mellow gentleness.

The lyrics, sung in English, aren’t up to much, but Johnson’s stark, elemental arrangements cut to the quick, and Watling is a charismatic performer with a steely theatricality and a versatile voice that moves readily from vulnerability to near-mania (try her positively Bedlamite reading of ‘Carousel’).