Mark Turnbull Sings Sondheim – Ye Olde Rose and Crown Theatre

Mark Turnbull presented his Sondheim cabaret I’m Still Here rront Ye Olde Rose and Crown Theatre, London

I’m Still Here: Mark Turnbull Sings Sondheim was performed at Ye Olde Rose and Crown Theatre, London.

As a member of The Stephen Sondheim Society, I can’t think of a much better way to spend a dreary Sunday afternoon than listening to a cabaret of Sondheim songs, performed by a veteran of the West End, staged at one of London’s most exciting fringe venues, and accompanied by an accomplished MD with a string of hit shows (including Sondheim’s) to his name. At least, that’s what I thought when invited to hear Mark Turnbull sing at Ye Olde Rose and Crown Theatre. What I got was something of a curate’s egg – excellent in parts but essentially with a few things amiss.

Turnbull, an alumni of the Webber Douglas Academy, boasts an impressive theatre CV: Jean Valjean in Les Misérables (Palace), Frank‘n’Furter in The Rocky Horror Show (Piccadilly) – check out some of the fabulous footage of him in suspenders and tights on YouTube! – and on tour he’s re-created the roles of Judus (Jesus Christ Superstar), Che (Evita) and Billy Flynn (Chicago).

Notably, no Sondheim, it would seem, but no reason for him not to then opt for a cabaret of solely Sondheim songs.

There’s no doubting Turnbull has the voice and personality to carry off a solo cabaret slot. Looking – and sometimes sounding – like a cross between Joe Cocker and Ian Drury, and with a large earring, Turnbull has a piratical air, with a swagger to match. He has an idiosyncratic sound, packed with power, that gives him a commanding stage presence and makes for a compelling performance. He certainly didn’t need a mic in this intimate venue (which, I have to say, was transformed into a cabaret setting, complete with tables, chairs and candles).

Joining Turnbull on stage was musical director Aaron Clingham and – a treat – cellist Maria Rodriguez. Clingham is no stranger to the work of Stephen Sondheim, having recently MD’d the fantastic Into the Woods at this venue only a month or so ago, and his deep understanding of Sondheim’s music proved to be helpful when his star act at times veered a little off course. The cello was a wise choice, too, adding depth and colour to Clingham’s piano accompaniment.

As for song choices, it was a purely Sondheim selection, albeit reworked and personalised. Without a word of introduction, Turnbull strutted on and opened the show with a mash-up of ‘Johanna’ and ‘Pretty Women’ from Sweeney Todd, which worked very well as both a showcase for his voice and a show opener. These two songs were woven together nicely, as was his next offering: ‘Too Many Mornings’ and ‘Losing My Mind’ from Follies.

During both numbers, Turnbull came to mind as a perfect Judge Turpin or Ben Stone – casting directors, you can thank me later.

He then introduced himself and explained his dream of “singing Sondheim before I die”. He also talked of “surviving the showbiz war”, describing himself as “a veteran… a survivor!” This cabaret, he revealed, was seven months in the planning, which he qualified by saying he’d only really had a week of rehearsals.

Next up was the lesser-spotted ‘Live Alone and Like It’ from the 1990 movie Dick Tracy, for which Sondheim penned a number of songs, including the Oscar-winning ‘Sooner Or Later (I Always Get My Man)’. This rarely heard number again really suited Turnbull and it was a pleasure to hear this unsung song.

‘You Must Meet My Wife’ (A Little Night Music) followed – again, a nice choice. Then, after some chit-chat about Turnbull’s role as the sweet transvestite Frank‘n’Furter in The Rocky Horror Show – ”I had to learn to walk in flats after that show!” – we had a strange lull in proceedings as he went to work on his face with a range of cosmetics that were lying on Clingham’s piano.

Under an improvised vamp from our MD, Turnbull began to “channel the spirit of Elaine Stritch”, one of his favourite chanteuses, and transform himself into a drag queen. He should have channelled the spirit of Alban from La Cage aux Folles, of course… if only Sondheim had written ‘A Little More Mascara’!

Five minutes later, and now (only barely) transformed into “an ageing old queen”, Turnbull turned to Sondheim’s songs for women, kicking-stepping off with a credible rendition of the Follies classic ‘Broadway Baby’. Starting soft and delicate, this paean to showbiz resilience soon built to the showstopper that it is, and I genuinely believed that Turnbull was singing from the heart. A few words went astray as he put his all into it, but forgivable given the passion with which it was sung.

Less forgivable – but no less a measure of his experience on stage – was his much-more-awry ‘I’m Still Here’, another Follies number about surviving the aforementioned showbiz war. This time, his impassioned delivery careered a bit too wildly for my liking, and I could almost hear the eyes of my fellow Sondheimites twitching as words were forgotten and replaced with improvised randomness.

The skill of thinking on your feet as a performer is one thing, but with the words of Sondheim so fundamental to the songs, a single word change can alter the meaning.

The final number – for yes, it was over this quickly – was the strangest of the afternoon: a mash-up of ‘Being Alive’ from Company and ‘Send in the Clowns’ from A Little Night Music!

I’m all for innovation – I’m currently really enjoying the Liaisons jazz interpretations of Sondheim’s music championed by pianist Anthony de Mare – but this was a mash too far. Again, vocally, it was a joy, but really, I couldn’t get ‘Being a Clown’ out of my head…

Despite the short 50-minute running time – including ten minutes wasted on the application and removal of make-up! – and the fast and loose approach to the lyrics towards the end of the show, it was an enjoyable afternoon. “There are worse things on a Sunday…” as the composer/lyricist might say. Sondheim purists might have had the occasional experience akin to biting on tinfoil, but Turnbull’s personality and voice – and Clingham’s and Rodriguez’s accompaniment – did just enough to override this and result in a credible cabaret. I just hope that, should we see him again – and I hope we do – Turnbull will give the material the full respect it deserves.

Craig Glenday