Kilburn and opera; opera and Kilburn – go together like... Well, traditionally, they don’t go together at all. In fact the ‘just passing through’ visitor, trapped on the buses that reduce Kilburn High Road to a permanent crawl, seeing the mind-numbing congestion, and hearing the incessant tangled noise of traffic, road works and railways, might just shudder and write Kilburn off as another town ruined by 21st century lifestyles.
I love Kilburn. It’s home to an enormously diverse mixture of cultures, style and history. Kilburn High Road is astonishing hybrid of street sellers (some trading in ‘unusual merchandise’), shops and cafés for just about any ethnic group you care to mention, and an architectural pick ‘n’ mix that makes your eyes spin. Nowhere is this more evident than in the ‘open the doors and they shall come’ retail outlet of Primark, where your standard high street styled ground floor sits underneath one of the most glorious examples of 1930s art deco architecture in London; a beautiful snapshot of symmetry and geometrics.
Almost opposite Primark is just about the scariest car park in the world. Dug out under the market is a dark, noisy Neverland with doorways leading to stairs which lead to corridors of concrete
which lead to more doors taking you back, eventually, to the comforting real world of Kilburn High Road. If any film companies are looking for a location in which to create a sense of doom and something grim lurking around the corner, this is their nirvana, in NW6.
So with a sense of relief that we had indeed rediscovered daylight, we headed next door to where the Cock Tavern Theatre sits atop the pub below. Intimate is the word here, as with its forty seats (and a couple of benches on the ‘stage’) you are never much more than an arms-length from the performers.
Now, bringing Puccini’s La Bohème to such a venue could be either despairingly pretentious or grimly patronising. That OperaUpClose’s splendid production avoids such an outcome is a tribute to, of course the players, and Adam Spreadbury-Maher’s splendid direction.
I’ve never been very convinced when opera is re-staged in a modern setting, but placing the action in present day Kilburn is an inspired idea, as the libretto lends itself perfectly to the diversity, intensity, and let’s not pretend otherwise, the nightmare of deep poverty in some parts of the town.
So rather than 1830’s Paris, we find ourselves in Rodolfo and Marcello’s rather bleak flat in Kilburn, where Rodolfo becomes rather struck with the ailing Mimi, who lives in an adjacent room.
It was at the end of Act One that my world went crazy.
I tutted a little as we were all asked to go downstairs to the pub while some scenery changes took place. It seemed a bit of a bore to have troop down, and then all the way up again after a ten minute interval. However, of course we complied.
The bar was crowded and there were no seats to spare.
An annoying man kept bothering customers (including me) asking if we wanted ‘two hundred smokes for ten quid’; I shook my head with mild irritation. A table became free, and we sat at it. A fellow from the next table ambled over and told me that he would prefer it if we didn’t sit there. More than mildly irritated now, I asked him “Why?” and whether he worked in the pub. He shrugged and walked away. A loud and bossy woman then appeared and rather than requesting, more or less ordered us to move.
We did so, in the spirit that despite Kilburn being rather lovely in many ways, it is sensible not to argue with loud and bossy women in pubs.
Another woman came running in through the door of the pub; she appeared to be rather excitable. She was followed by an older man; he seemed to be connected to her, but she brushed him aside.
The noise from the people at a table near the door was becoming ridiculously loud. Other customers were beginning to get concerned. I thought that maybe I had stumbled into some dreamlike, strange drama.
I had.
In the most perfect twist, all of the events above had been staged by the performers, including the bossy woman, the ‘two hundred smokes’ man, the lot. They were simply carrying out Act Two of La Bohème, but updated to a Kilburn pub. As the singers mixed with genuine pub-goers who were trying to order drinks or eat a late lunch, we, the audience, with all of this going on amidst and around us, shared a common sense of both astonishment at the accomplishment of this piece of theatrical genius, and relief that all these eccentric people were not there as part of a Kilburn ‘bring your unusual friends to the pub’ scheme.
Back then, for the final two acts, to the more traditional setting for a performance, of the small forty seat room upstairs.
he early part of the third act was lost on many of the audience as we came to terms with the bizarre events that had just unfolded around us, but by the end of Act Four, the uproarious curtain calls signified our appreciation of a wonderful performance by this gifted and committed cast.
The run at The Cock Tavern Theatre has finished, thus I feel able to ‘reveal’ the spoiler about Act Two.
However, due to the enormous success of this production, La Bohème transfers to the Soho Theatre from 27th July.
I recommend it.
Terence Dackombe, June 2010
