Irish Times writers review Lee, Lie, Collins at the Hugh Lane Gallery, the International Puppet Festival at the Lambert Puppet Theatre and Subitango at the Riverbank Arts Centre in Newbridge.

Lee, Lie, Collins

Hugo Wolf Festival,

Hugh Lane Gallery, Dublin

Douglas Sealy

As Prof Leopold Spitzer pointed out in his introductory lecture to the Dublin Hugo Wolf Festival two weeks ago, the vocal lines owe as much to the art of declamation as to the art of song. The settings of Goethe heard this week, especially the three sung by the old half-crazed harper and the four sung by the unhappy child Mignon, invite a subtly dramatic interpretation as both harper and child are characters in Goethe's Wilhelm Meister.

The performance must be such as to suggest both their anguish and their mysterious background. The expressiveness of the words, in all their variations of mood, must be matched by a similar sensitivity in the piano.

The bold and direct delivery of Tom Erik Lie in the Harfenspieler songs almost contradicted the feelings of the old man who "ate his bread with tears" and "sat weeping on his bed in sorrowful nights".

Dearbhla Collins conveyed the anguish but with rather too much force and her understanding of the composer's instructions of p, pp and ppp did not translate into the soft, softer and softest presumably intended by the composer.

On the other hand, the pathos of the Mignon songs was admirably conveyed by Lynda Lee, who gave a credible and convincing portrait of the orphaned waif who dreams of a better life and yearns for an Italy she only dimly remembers. The pianist sympathetically played with more restraint, so these songs represented Wolf at his most characteristic and most moving.

The partnership of Lie and Collins was happiest in the less refined songs where Goethe demonstrates an ironic sense of humour Der Rattenfänger (The Ratcatcher), and Ritter Kurts Brautfahrt (Sir Kurt's Wedding Ride). The use of both singers in Gutmann und Gutweib (Goodman and Goodwife) seemed a bright idea but it caused more confusion than hilarity.

International Puppet Festival

Lambert Puppet Theatre

Gerry Colgan

The final shows in the Festival again offered superb entertainment for children in the afternoon, and for adults and teens in the evening. First was The Mousehole Cat based on a folk legend still celebrated annually in Cornwall. Old Tom and his cat Monzer live in a tiny fishing village, overlooking a harbour with a small entrance known as the Mousehole Gap. A great storm keeps the villagers from the seas and their food, and Tom decides to risk the raging seas. Monzer goes with him, and their heroism saves the day.

A delicious set, with the village nestled above a tiered sea, accommodates the action, which includes expert puppetry, music and song, and a delightful story. Puppetcraft, from England, entertain royally with this one.

The evening saw Australian Richard Bradshaw provide a hilarious sequence of visual and vocal jokes in the shape of shadow puppets, manipulated by rods and projected against a bright screen, for all the world like animated black-and-white cartoons. A fat man jumps from a height into a barrel, to emerge waddling in concertina mode. Eccentric feet with independently-minded toes do stunts.

Objects appear, change shape in extraordinary ways and disappear. Most of the gags last under a minute, so that the pace is fast and furious.

A few longer set-to-music items are inserted, such as the Old McDonald Had A Farm routine, the very funny The Cat Came Back, and Super Kangaroo. To conclude the hour-long extravaganza, the final sketch featured the audience and a recognisable image of its host; a nice one. Afterwards, most unprofessionally, I sought and secured permission to go backstage to see how it was all done - I might never get the chance again. There lay the puppets, flat and in hinged sections; the rest was a lit screen and sheer manipulative ability.

The Puppet Festival has now ended, but the work of preparing for next year' s has already begun; good news.

Subitango

Riverbank Arts Centre, Newbridge

Michael Seaver

No other dance form is as misunderstood as tango. Illusive, yet still a powerful cultural presence in its native Argentina, its transition to Europe led to eroticisation and exoticisation. Twee ballroom dancing images of roses in clenched teeth have made way for more authentic representations of tango through shows such as Subitango, yet the idea of tango as sexually charged mating dance remains. Similarly its music has moved on, even from the Nuevo Tango of Astor Piazzola, and is constantly contemporised by groups such as Paris-based The Gotan Project, merging hip-hop with tango.

Mina and Giraldo are the dancing couple in Subitango. Giraldo's downward focus coupled with nonchalance creates the essential tango look. After the first dance, the audience's applause seems to startle him and, as if noticing for the first time, he looks at us, grins, sniffs and straightens his waistcoat before leaving the stage.

Mina's moves and posture suggest a jazz influence and in contrast it is her chest that leads her movement, while her limbs seem less engaged with her body, these isolations suggesting more a jazz dance vocabulary.

Constant costume changes place the dance in different contexts, both historically and in location, but the emphasis is always on the showpiece number with the big ending. It is only in some of the improvisations that the dancers lose their practised sheen and by being more carefully aware of each other create a more interesting dynamic. In these moments it is the space between their bodies that becomes charged as they constantly adjust to each other's moves.

The four musicians of Tango Siempre tend to leaven the dance. The playing is luke-warm and largely passionless, only rising a gear in the penultimate tango, Libertad, by Astor Piazzola, many of whose works were sterilised through re-arrangements.

The deep-throated bandoneon was replaced by the accordion in all but one tango and the violin and piano frequently evoked dreaminess rather than fervour. The overall package of music and dance ends up a little contrived and staid.

At the beginning of the evening we are asked to imagine ourselves in a seedy bordello in Buenos Aires rather than a theatre, but the performers should at least meet us halfway.