The Great Joe Wilson
Sep. 13th, 2018 10:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustThe beginning of this post has been sitting on my desktop for several days: short version, J. invited us to join her in Darlington on Saturday, at the newly revamped and re-opened Civic Theatre (now the Hippodrome, which is not its original name - that was' New Theatre and Palace of Varieties' - but doubtless there's a reason somewhere) to see The Great Joe Wilson.
Beyond that point, I flounder, and I think the reason is that I enjoyed it, I had a good evening, and when I come to write about it, everything I say suggests the opposite. It is the way my mind works, to take my enjoyment from taking things to bits and considering how they might have been put together better (I'm not creative, I'm critical). Since I want to wrap this up before heading up to the station for a rendezvous withlamentables and abrinsky, which will doubtless lead to more adventures, this much for the record:
Joe Wilson was a nineteenth century Tyneside music hall singer and songwriter, and this play about his life and music was written by Ed Waugh, who also wrote Mr Corvan's Music Hall, about which I don't seem to have posted. Oh, well, Ned Corvan was a nineteenth century Tyneside music hall singer and songwriter, and Ed Waugh wrote a play about his life and music - which we went to see, and ecidently enjoyed enough that we were up for more of the same... The Great Joe Wilson had a framing device of a group of musicians who are preparing to perform at an evening of Joe Wilson's songs, and are not only working on the songs but flicking through a book about his life, Dave Harker's The Gallowgate Lad; at the same time, they play out that life story, with Joe's brother acting as narrator - and of course, lots of songs. The songs were the best bit, and well performed, and Micky Cochrane was particularly good as Joe Wilson. But the structure was complex, and when I did some searching and realised that Alex Glasgow had written a one-man play on the subject, I really wanted to see that. (Also, some things I'd have liked to know more about - maybe I need to read the book.)
There's also a train of thought about how much of the north-east songbook you lose if you decide - as the great collectors did - that music hall is a crude contamination of the pure wellspring of tradition.
Beyond that point, I flounder, and I think the reason is that I enjoyed it, I had a good evening, and when I come to write about it, everything I say suggests the opposite. It is the way my mind works, to take my enjoyment from taking things to bits and considering how they might have been put together better (I'm not creative, I'm critical). Since I want to wrap this up before heading up to the station for a rendezvous with
lamentables and abrinsky, which will doubtless lead to more adventures, this much for the record:Joe Wilson was a nineteenth century Tyneside music hall singer and songwriter, and this play about his life and music was written by Ed Waugh, who also wrote Mr Corvan's Music Hall, about which I don't seem to have posted. Oh, well, Ned Corvan was a nineteenth century Tyneside music hall singer and songwriter, and Ed Waugh wrote a play about his life and music - which we went to see, and ecidently enjoyed enough that we were up for more of the same... The Great Joe Wilson had a framing device of a group of musicians who are preparing to perform at an evening of Joe Wilson's songs, and are not only working on the songs but flicking through a book about his life, Dave Harker's The Gallowgate Lad; at the same time, they play out that life story, with Joe's brother acting as narrator - and of course, lots of songs. The songs were the best bit, and well performed, and Micky Cochrane was particularly good as Joe Wilson. But the structure was complex, and when I did some searching and realised that Alex Glasgow had written a one-man play on the subject, I really wanted to see that. (Also, some things I'd have liked to know more about - maybe I need to read the book.)
There's also a train of thought about how much of the north-east songbook you lose if you decide - as the great collectors did - that music hall is a crude contamination of the pure wellspring of tradition.
