An evening at Scotch & Soda
Now, let's get one thing straight. I'm not usually an arts or
theatre writer, when it comes to 'reviewing' a show I am not the girl to look
to.
Though, when I had the pleasure of stumbling across Scotch &
Soda on London's Southbank last weekend I couldn't not tell the world.
Part of the fourth season of the London Wonderground Festival,
the event running from 7th May - 27th September Scotch & Soda promised 'a
cocktail of physical feats and jazz beats' and didn't disappoint.
Performed in a traditional travelling big top of red and gold, a
few rows of circle seating curved the tiny stage. It's easy to forget you're in
central London, instead you're swallowed by the 1920's. You're daring, you're
brave and you're all friends here.
Forming an intimate audience you're thrown into the peril of the
action, though can do nothing but spectate and marvel.
Despite instinctively holding out your arms to catch the gravity
defying bodies, just in case.
Pre-show, boasting jazz filled the tent while the acrobats and
band casually played cards and shared a few drinks. Adorned in off white shirts
and baggy pants, the girls sported twisted up dos, the boys bared their
impressive abs.
Pulsing energy, the Crusty Suitcase Band got the motion into
full swing. Horns, drums and sax collided into a fusion of jazz and blues.
Their cocktail spiked with a drop of funk and spiced with a dash of cheeky
originality.
Triumphant and giddy, the band underscored rip roaring gymnasts
with nothing but passion.
Small but tightly knit, the Scotch & Soda team performed
knuckle biting acrobatics with effortless grace.
Doing more with a shabby washing line, wooden boxes and wine
bottle than you could imagine.
Based on a typical Victorian circus cast, characters were
reinvented - chic and sexy.
Swoony heartthrobs of clowns performed laugh out loud sequences
despite not speaking a word. And, there were no ghostbuster pyjamas in
site.
The girls of course, kept them in line, spellbinding and
elegant.
Working harmoniously in strength, we were treated to an
eccentric, fast paced spectacle of tantalising trapeze, skilful somersaults,
boisterous biking and jubilant jumps.
Chinese poles were mounted, dresses changed colour with a drop
of a curtain and legs grasped rope for life.
From slapstick violence to jaw dropping stunts, it became
impossible to look away.
Particularly when one bearded misfit bared all, an exhibitionist
wearing clogs.
Everything was high, fast, racy and laughed in the face of danger.
The sound of the band perfectly orchestrated every scene be it
celebratory punches in a build of momentum or slower, soulful moments.
Falling in love with the big and bold personalities of everybody
on stage, hearts racing and nails bitten, we rooted for their devious feat.
If you weren't toe tapping and clapping along to the Crusty
Suitcase Band's infectious groove, or laughing in delight at the mime style art
of story telling, you were almost certainly holding your breath at the edge of
your seat.
You'll leave with your heart in your mouth and consciously aware
of how easily you'd bruise if you were to do even a fraction of what you just
saw.
