Sean
Noonan (drums & vocals), Adam Roszkowski (violin), Afan Asjew (violin),
Magda Malecka (viola) & JanRoszkowski (cello)
(Review by Russell/Photo by Ken Drew).
Odd ball New Yorker Sean Noonan returned to the Bridge Hotel with a string quartet in tow. Drums and strings…the writing had to be on the outside and it was. Noonan wrote the music and lyrics. His storytelling took the form of narration rather than conventional singing. The narrative – A Gambler’s Hand – wove the strange tale of a man trapped in a wall (the wall of the Bridge Hotel, said Noonan). He, the man, broke free and travelled the world – perhaps in a dream, because, after all, he was trapped in a wall. We were in a dream, said Noonan. The audience believed him…well, some of us did.
Clad in boxer’s gown and shorts,
the King of Kitsch called the shots, counting in the strings with no more than
a stare and a nod. Filigree percussion flitted in and out of the strings,
dancing like a butterfly, expertly evading the atonal sting of a fiddler’s
elbow. Then with a nod and a stare, a stare and a nod, the man from Odd ball New Yorker Sean Noonan returned to the Bridge Hotel with a string quartet in tow. Drums and strings…the writing had to be on the outside and it was. Noonan wrote the music and lyrics. His storytelling took the form of narration rather than conventional singing. The narrative – A Gambler’s Hand – wove the strange tale of a man trapped in a wall (the wall of the Bridge Hotel, said Noonan). He, the man, broke free and travelled the world – perhaps in a dream, because, after all, he was trapped in a wall. We were in a dream, said Noonan. The audience believed him…well, some of us did.
A Tommy Cooper – Les Dawson
episode (probably lost on the American) required expert timing. Bouncing sticks
off the snare, catching them, then, clumsily, not. A clutch of sticks spilled
out over snare and toms, the actions of a bungling incompetent. Cooper the
trickster, Dawson the pianist, they always pulled it off, the last laugh
theirs. So too, Sean Noonan. Sticks gathered up, a brief drum master class
concluded the sketch. The doubters were silenced. No they weren’t, they were
applauding wildly! Noonan’s big hit – Drunkard
Landlady – smeared boozy red lipstick across the audience. Was that a hint
of garlic? Hey! Sean, give the lady what she wants! According to the man from Brooklyn she has taken up residence at the Bridge Hotel.
Let me out of here!
(Russell).
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