Wales Millennium Centre’s reinvented Cabaret room in the old Blas restaurant (one of many variations) hosted a charming evening of French chanson from Glaswegian Christine Bovill and her exceptional accompanist Michael Roulston.
Now this is not the usual fare at the venue which, admittedly in its very early days, seems to be a drag revue bar most of the time, and a surprisingly and hearteningly mature audience took their seats round little tables, ordered drinks from the app, and settled in for the show. At least one table of more mature people spent half of the first half trying to order drinks through the app with the help a very lovely member of staff but it was all a bit distracting.
The main change to the venue seems to be that the temporary stage has been replaced with a better performance area (on the opposite side of the room) and the hideous palm tree has gone.
But we are, of course, here for the show. Bovill enters from between large stage curtains, her pianist having introduced her from the keyboard, and our adventure with Edith Piaf begins.
It is a double story – Piaf from her street urchin to mega star and early death – and the young Scottish girl who hated French but then became obsessed with the language and culture having been transfixed by a recording of the diminutive chanteuse.
There is plenty of self-effacing humour at Bovill’s expense as there aren’t many laughs in Piaf’s life story. It is the singing of the classic songs that we have come for and she does not disappoint. Many we know, L’Accordéoniste, La Vie En Rose, Milord and Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien, others we know from later artists. I was able to sing along to These Foolish Things but I have Bryan Ferry to thank for that.
The tales behind each song, the triumphs and many tragedies of Piaf’s life, her many, many loves, are all told with great charm and obvious admiration. She is also rightly proud of her own achievements which she tells us includes at one of her sell-out Edinburgh Festival shows sharing the stage with Piaf’s last composer, Charles Dumont.
The singing is exquisite, yes, full of angst but also joy when the occasional, very occasional, lighter or at least less depressing, song is performed. She may have hated her French teacher (she says it was mutual) but her clarity of expression, intonation and diction is superb.
It was possibly not the best venue for the intimate evening , for example, early on Michael having to go off and ask the bar staff to turn down the radio mics and the glaring bar lights were only dimmed well into the performance. Obviously the waiters must serve drinks but there seemed an awful lot of other coming and goings and soft shoes may be an idea for some staff to minimise the clicking of heels on floor. It is probably not an issue for a rowdy loud drag night, but as I say, it is early days.
Perhaps it will all settle down for hopefully a return booking for Bovill to bring her newer show Piaf to Pop back to Cardiff. This was, she told us, her first visit to the city and I guess it won’t be her last.