Stefan Bednarczyk performed Bednarczyk Sings Noel Coward at the Crazy Coqs, London.
Actor, musical director and cabaret performer Stefan Bednarczyk’s new show Bednarczyk Sings Noel Coward, wich premiered at the Crazy Coqs, included songs, verse and anecdotes from people who knew and worked with Coward, including Graham Payn and the late critic Sheridan Morley.
Starting with the question ‘Why Must the Show Go On?’, Bednarczyk brought us a selection of Coward’s material, concentrating mainly on the work written in the late 1930s and 40s, a period of his work that is often overlooked.
Some of the expected favourites were there, such as ‘The Stately Homes of England’, but particularly welcome was the inclusion of Coward’s poems, or as he called them, “verses”. Many of these were written simply for Coward’s own amusement, not intended for publication, and often contained pithy and scurrilous revelations related to colleagues and friends, such as the sizzling ‘Personal Reminiscence’. Other writing tackled more serious and difficult subjects like war and death, including a chilling speech from his one-act play Post Mortem, that has resonance and relvance even today.
Bednarczyk’s recitations of these works were a masterclass in verse-speaking, embracing enjambed lines where the sense and breath followed from one line into the next, and using the rhythm and metre skilfully, avoiding the temptation to allow the narrative to descend into prose.
Competently accompanying himself on the piano, his singing of patter numbers displayed all the clarity, speed and comic timing reminiscent of the Master’s own performances. Neither over-egged nor laboured, Bednarczyk captured both Coward’s essence and biting satirical quality.
In this well-structured programme, similar subjects were kept together by juxtaposing items like ‘Don’t Put Your Daughter On the Stage, Mrs Worthington’ and ‘The Boy Actor’, while still providing change of mood and pace. The first half included many of the more funny pieces and led us into the works written during the Second World War, including the initially banned ‘Don’t Let’s Be Beastly to the Germans’ and his anthem ‘London Pride’.
Part two was more thoughtful, sadder and sometimes darker, opening with the poignant ‘I Travel Alone’, segueing straight into the heart rending verse of self-examination, ‘I Am No Good At Love’.
It was refreshing to see the inclusion of this questioning, reflective side of Coward’s work with its haunting remembrances of war, and considerations on Deity with his shifting, uncertain unbelief. Peppered with stories from friends and colleagues, including the wonderful Judy Campbell, the show gave us a more rounded picture of the man than simply his much celebrated wit and “…talent to amuse”.
Tributes to Coward are performed everywhere, but the meticulous pacing, crisp diction, command of vocal tone and, most importantly, judicious choice of material, made this one of the best you will see.
Fiona-Jane Weston
SHARE THIS POST:





Comments are closed.