If you heard that Rowan Pelling, the celebrated former editor of The Erotic Revue, was staging a Decadent Cabaret, what would you expect?
I think others like me were hoping for something teasing and provocative, something splendid to the eye that was arousing and wildly amusing, stimulating, wicked and witty, a bit on the smutty side, and erotic too.
So it was no wonder that this event sold out at Cambridge’s ADC Theatre, and pretty quickly too I expect. Many great British thespians have trod the boards there, from John Cleese and Eleanor Bron, to Hugh Lawrie and Peter Cook, and I have seen Prince Edward strut his stuff there too.
In fact, the Decadent Cabaret was so amateurish and disappointing that many people walked out - including myself - and today I received a letter of apology from the organiser, Wordfest; this was part of their literary festival in Cambridge.
It had been described as “a scandalous entertainment of readings, burlesque and music”. Indeed, it did contain those elements, but appeared to have been scrambled together there and then at the last minute, with little thought of how it would work out. The highlight of the cabaret was a performance by Miss Sugar Kayne at the end, which I missed and gather was ok by those who stuck it out.
At one stage of the show, the guy sitting behind me yelled out: “Oh no, don’t encourage them, else they’ll be back”, after the Irish musicians had finished playing a jig, more suited for the Cambridge Folk Festival.
After that, on walked a sheepish John Moore to the stoniest of silence. He had earlier been playing the musical saw. I must admit he did it brilliantly - but it was not the right time or place, and again, he should try the Cambridge Folk Festival. I had the feeling that the disappointed audience would have pelted tomatoes at him if they had been handy. I just hope John doesn’t give up his day job; he is also a music blogger for The Guardian. Although we had a very entertaining chat in the bar afterwards, I still have no idea how he got roped into this.
You would expect that with a line-up including the literary likes of Michael Bywater and Medlar Lucan and the dandy Dickon Edwards, that it would have been a stunning and memorable night. But it was only memorable in being so abysmal. Perhaps, as one friend said, it would have been better performed in a different environment, in a club where you could develop a sense of intimacy. What was really impressive was the number of octogenarians in the audience, it was way past their cocoa time. However, I think there was more decadence in my village bus shelter last Saturday night than at the ADC Theatre.
I spoke to Rowan about it afterwards and she hotly denied the evening had been a failure. She then blamed her low budget of £300, most of which had been spent on the burlesque dancer I had missed. At the end of the day, if her name is behind an event, it is her responsibility to ensure that it comes up to scratch.
Despite everything, I didn’t see the need to complain. I didn’t give the evening a second thought until a letter arrived this morning apologising for the quality of the cabaret and offering free tickets for any event at their literary festival next year. I really applaud them for their honesty about this, for being concerned enough about our disappointment to follow it through this way.
What does decadence mean to you? I wonder if you have ever had a refund for a play, or a restaurant meal, that you had been disappointed with.
Decadence ? Going out to lunch, drinking a lot of very good wine, eating well, talking and letting it run on despite the fact that I should be working. Unfortunately working at home, and for myself, means that I’m never decadent these days.
What a trooper bloggin’ thorugh the bank holiday weekend. This sounds awful but then it was always going to be you can`t have ‘the erotic’ in a tame setting , if you want erotic entertainment accompany me and Jungle Jane to the underbelly of London Town some night…well not really nowadays but I was once in a comopnay where we had corporate mebership of the Cherokee club….. ( woo woo woo woo woo).
…amusing, stimulating, wicked and witty, a bit on the smutty side, and erotic too…
That’s what the girlfriend is for.
Newmania, I thought I had something to look forward to there. Perhaps we could ask Devil’s Kitchen to show us his pole dancing, I hear he is a master at it.
lol Elle,
never judge a book by its cover
nor a play or ‘event’ by its title.
An Irish Jig and Riverdance belong at a Folk festival or in a musical extravaganza(?)
In a Decadent Cabaret you’d expect at least Tango or 2, with or without scenes from The Last Tango in Paris
Q9, Yes definitely something smouldering, the tango would have been perfect.
I, for one, can’t dance and I think a professional tango dancer would cost more than three hundred quid. But while I apologise for my part in letting you down, I must point out that I did give you sodomy, the High Baroque, brothelkeeping, group sex, libidinous priests, secret passageways, adultery and the Bach Passacaglia in c minor played in the most recondite fashion… admittedly in textual form only but had they been actually enacted the dwarf, the whore, the Jesuit, the booze, the house, the double cathedral (think Albi), the four-manual Gabler organ, the five organists (naked except for their D.Mus. gowns), the respectable Burghermeisterin (naked, full stop) and Alte Onkel Thomas Kobblei and all would have rather made inroads into Rowan’s £300. And had the audience had what would *now* pass for decadence (Kate Moss’s boyfriend, anyone? George W Bush’s foreign policy?) even more of you would have been disgruntled.
The ADC was not a good venue, I agree, but was all that was offered. It was indeed all done rather at the last minute. We all did it for free. Or, rather, for Rowan, who is tirelessly energetic, universally loved, the only utterly benign person in the whole bitchy media world, a woman who I have never heard utter a spiteful word about anyone, and one to who all her friends and colleagues feel a great loyalty. To be perfectly honest — you may think THIS is decadent — I would feel far worse at the thought of letting Rowan down (who was also a major force behin the scenes at the WordFest; don’t tell me you hated *everything* there…) than at disappointing an audience who were either going to shout “Tame!” or “Disgusting”.
The trouble is this. We live in times where decadence is unachievable. When you can buy absinthe respectably by mail order, when housewives offer their bodies for sale on the internet, where pornography is dowloadable on demand, where the sensual exigencies of Vogue and Harpers are mainstream, where Tony Blair is Prime Minister, where our freedoms are eroded day by day… oh, wh go on? The point is that decadence is like satire: everyone’s at it so there’s no room for it onstage or in print or art. And when someone *does* have a go — Tracey Emin’s “Bed” springs to mind — everyone says “That’s not art; a child could do it.” “Cabaret” is a satire on decadence; the point of Sally Bowles is that she’s irretrievably suburban. Green nail polish does not a decadent make. A Patpong Lady Pussy Ping Pong Ball Show would have fallen foul of the UK laws — *all* of the UK laws — and a reading from the more distressing of Swinburne’s works would have merely repelled.
That which was once decadent is now mainstream (BDSM is merely a fashion trope on the club scene and opium, far from being the recourse of the ennervated fop, is a Social Problem) and that which is *now* decadent is, of course, illegal. Hardly surprising in a society where making phone calls in the car is also illegal; but illegal all the same.
I’m sorry you had a disappointing time. You explained your disappointment in detail to me, as well as to Rowan — de gustibus non est disputandum of course — at the party afterwards, which you appeared to be enjoying. (The experience of walking out of an entertainment so that one misses the best bit, but waiting around to come back to the after-show party to berate the organiser, is, I must say, deliciously decadent and you can teach us all a lesson there.)
But I can’t help wondering what the general reaction would have been had the evening been genuinely decadent. In the mean time, let me invite you to define the programme of a decadent cabaret — achievable on £300 and acceptable to a varied audience (and a Cambridge one at that, which considers inappropriate recycling as our forebears would have regarded buggering the vicar). “A bit on the smutty side” certainly won’t get us even out of the starting blocks. “A bit on the smutty side” is what Mail on Sunday readers think the people next door get up to. I challenge you to use your imagination.
Alternatively, come round to my place any evening and I’ll give you a private demonstration, my dear, and no refunds either… You’ll need to bring a tightly-fitting leather belt and a spatula. I’ll provide the rest.
Oh, by the way: the octogenarians can’t help being octogenarians — they’re not doing it on purpose, to annoy the rest of us; it just sort of crept up on them as it will creep up on us — and I rather feel they’re entitlted to a night out, as well. Or is that where the real decadence lies? Old farts going out, as though they’re human or something?
Not the Best Review of All Time…
No, really. Then again, what can you do on a budget of £300?…
[…] Ellee Seymour at ProActive PR reviews The Decadent Cabaret staged by Rowan Pelling (former editor of The Erotic Review and columnist in The Independent) in A disappointing night of decadence, pondering how the involvement of big names doesn’t necessarily guarantee satisfaction. […]
If I heard that this lady was organising the event, I wouldn’t go: I’d expect it to be rubbish, Ellee! Decadence to me is doing delightful things when I should be working and it should not be indulged in half-heartedly!
Michael, Thank you for your reflections on the evening. My friend Jane who also went along mentioned in the bar afterwards that she might organise a party with a decadence theme, perhaps I could suggest that she also invite you and Rowan….
At least with “Darling you were terrible!” one knows where you stand!
I think the trouble with variety is it can be a bit… variable. I was reminded of those chaotic hit-and-miss low budget Warhol movies, which I rather like but are certainly not to everyone’s taste. I genuinely thought there were a number of rather good acts - Mr Bywater for one - but I’m very sorry you didn’t have fun. DE.
Dickon, I thought you were rather clever, but surely you sensed as a Master of Ceremonies that the atmosphere was rather cool.
And I wasn’t going to write up on the event until that letter arrived yesterday. I remember sitting in the theatre feeling stunned as John Moore came on the stage rather sheepishly and said words to the effect: “You don’t like me do you, you don’t want me here,” so he clearly sensed it.
As I said, I did not complain to the organisers, but clearly others did. This is what the letter said from the fesitval director, Cathy Moore, you may not have seen it:
”I am writing on behalf of the Wordfest Committee to apologise for the quality of The Decadent Cabaret on Satrudy, 28th April. As a young and progressive festival we pride ourselves in not always taking the safest routes and in trying to push boundaries in the hope of stimulating and inspiring our audiences. We had hoped that this provocative sounding event would do just that, but on the night it was clear that this was not the case. it is clear that we must exercise greater control and pre-festival auditing of previously unproduced events such as this in the future.
”By way of recompense, we would like to offer you a pair of free tickets to any event (workshops excluded) at next years festival. To claim your tickets simply present this letter to the box office when tickets go on sale next year.
”We hope you enjoyed the other events you went to and would agree that the weekend was a resounding triumph in all other aspects, with marvellous writers and stimulating discussions - it has been the most successful festival yet, and we will endeavour to build on this further in the years to come.”
I appreciated this gesture, but have no intention of claiming those free tickets. I also feel that many of the performers were indeed very talented - but it didn\’t work on the night, not enough thought had been given to it. And to be offered a refund in effect, without even asking for it, is pretty unusual, which is why I wrote about it.
No hard feelings.
Hmn:
Having arranged events myself, I can assure you I could have organised an evening, nay, a weekend, of decadence, for £300. How so? Oh it’s not what you know…. And apart from that I used to have a huuuuge motorbike and have been to a few rally’s myself. And as for the MoS, I happen to know that one of it’s pundits history isn’t … um… exactly … um.. commensurate with their current image. And deliciously so if I may say so. Despite his work currently painting me as the despot from hell and the architect of all evil in society.
Decadence? Oh if only.
How disappointing. I like to have my erotica ‘deliver the goods’, as it were. What does decadence mean to me? Well, I could write a book on it, but I think I’ll refrain from outlining all my tastes in this forum.
Ian
Lovely to catch up on your blog Ellee, always a smashing and provocative read.
Did that theatre used to be called the Cambridge Arts Theatre? If so, that is where I saw my very first live ballet (Les Sylphides, Ballet Rambert), as a teenager.
Ellee ! Really ! I didn’t have you down as this sort of gal.
‘amusing, stimulating, wicked, witty, smutty and erotic too’
Sorry that what you ended up with was far short of your expectations. As for it being ‘amateur’ I think I’d prefer that - there’s nothing less sexy than something contrived and at least with the amateur you can have a good laugh if it fails. It’s important that the participants are enjoying it and in the case of the gentlemen on stage pretty much essential (I’m talking continental here - capiche ?)
As for refunds ? Yes I do complain calmly and often get redress but I tend to do it at the scene and not by letter.
Kevin, I’m a woman, aren’t I
Jim, The ADC theatre is very much a Cambridge undergraduate theatre, home to the famous Footlights revue.
The splendid Arts Theatre was built thanks to the financial support support of Cambridge economist John Maynard Keynes who was