MARIA DUARTE is swept along by the cocky self-belief of a ping-pong hustler in a surprisingly violent drama
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Graham Parker, Union Chapel London/Touring
Acoustic set lacks essence of a great body of work
Nothing needs fixing: Graham Parker
STEVE ANDREW recommends a lively and often moving guide to once vibrant spaces that have been abandoned or swept away
GEOFF BOTTOMS appreciates the local touch brought to a production of Dickens’s perennial classic
MARY CONWAY is disappointed by a production whose design and cartoonish acting overwhelms the close scrutiny of characters
SUSAN DARLINGTON enjoys the raucous familiarity of a traditional topsy-turvy pantomime
RON JACOBS introduces the latest novel by the best writer of US working-class fiction writing today
OFTEN an “unplugged” session by an artist reveals an extra dimension to their music, stripping it down to essential components and revealing hitherto unconsidered depths.
Not so, it seems, with Graham Parker. Solo, with only an acoustic or electric guitar as accompaniment, he stands somewhat naked in the spotlight, unable to reinterpret his work in a way that does it full justice.
Few of the 19 songs he delivers to an attentive and supportive audience sound as good as the originals and, more disconcertingly, many of them — even classics such as Howlin’ Wind and White Honey — feel as if they have lost their very essence.
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