Only the other day Nick Hytner – who, contrary to what you might think from reading this blog, doesn’t occupy my every waking thought – was suggesting that theatre critics should look a little beyond their patch and parish and explore the multi-dimensional joys of the arts world. Yesterday, I did just that in Sydney – first of all taking the chance of a rainy day to retreat indoors to the comfort of a Sydney Symphony Orchestra afternoon Beethoven concert at the Sydney Opera House; and later visiting one of Sydney’s art house cinemas to finally catch up with The Lives of Others, that people have been telling me to see for ages.
My eyes (and ears) were duly twice opened. The first surprise and pleasure of the classical concert was to discover that, contrary to the disappointment I expressed yesterday about the apparent mundanity of the Opera House’s interior spaces (at least in comparison to the spectacular exterior views, which it perhaps inevitably cannot hope to match), is that filled up with a sold out audience (some 2,679 seats), the big concert hall comes alive. I suppose I should have anticipated this: venues are never seen at their best when they’re empty, and it’s the audience who supplies the missing piece of alchemy. But for a venue that seats so many people, it’s also surprising to realise that each member of the house can see virtually every other member of it; unlike conventional, tiered auditoria, the Opera House’s concert hall has the entire audience sharing the same space in a wrap-around embrace. And even though I was in the second from last row of the house, I felt completely a part of it.
But then a programme that comprised Beethoven’s 6th and 3rd symphonies cannot fail to embrace you, either. There’s something uniquely transcendent about listening to music live. I may not exactly be a classical musical intellectual, still less a snob, but I’m a fan: I have Classic FM as the more or less permanent soundtrack to my working day, on in the office and even here, I continue to listen remotely via the internet. But hearing music being played live is something else.
Going from this to the totally absorbing and beautifully acted The Lives of Others – a story of theatre writers and actors being kept tabs on in Stasi-era East Germany – was equally thrilling. Though film speaks in a different, more realistic, language than the theatre, the breadth and intelligence of the storytelling here engaged my mind and captured my heart just as potently as the best theatre can.
And now I’ve just arrived in Adelaide, where – for the fourth year running – I have come to attend the annual Adelaide Cabaret Festival. The best cabaret reaches the parts that no other theatre does: a combination of music and personality that makes you feel like you’re being addressed personally. I will report more tomorrow on tonight’s opening.
