Restaurant Review: Pier Eight at The Lowry, Salford (plus some exuberant singing at HMS Pinafore)

Back in December I reviewed Pier Eight, the new restaurant at The Lowry, and trumpeted loudly about how much I liked it. I've been back this week in order to try the new menu, and find to my relief that I still like it - if anything, even more than before, despite some streamlining to the menu and more limited pre-theatre options. Sometimes a simplified menu is a very good thing, and this proves to be the case here - we ate at 5.30 ahead of seeing the all-male cast performance of HMS Pinafore (more of which later), and whilst I was initially a bit disappointed that the full menu wasn't available, the fixed price option they run between 5 and 7pm on the night of a show turns out to be excellent.

We began with a sneaky additional bread course as I was starving, and in danger of eating my napkin in an unseemly manner. The bread was very good - three different types, including a cumin crispbread and a superlative walnut loaf - and some perfectly soft and salty butter (you get more than shown here - I did say I was hungry). For starters I had the scallops with pea purée, samphire, runner beans, sun dried tomato pesto - two beautiful fat scallops, well-seared and seasoned, and nicely offset by the sweetness of the pea purée and the brackishness of the samphire (one of my very favourite things). The pesto was presumably there to add some sweetness but wasn't needed and found itself a little overwhelmed by everything else - still, a very good dish though. The roast and pickled beetroots with beetroot jam, preserved pear, sorrel leaves, whipped Lancashire curd and powdered rosemary oil sounded fiddly but actually worked perfectly - a really well-balanced and interesting dish offering different textures and a ludicrously wonderful sweet sticky sauce that got me caught running my finger round the plate.

Mains kept up the standard, and provided the perfect summer accompaniment to an unusually sunny Salford. My roasted sea trout, steamed mussels, samphire, gnocchi and watercress sauce was a great example of a simple, elegant dish, despite a couple of blips - the mussels were initially forgotten and had to be brought separately, and the samphire had been substituted for fennel without warning. No real matter though - the mussels were brought swiftly (and the dish was indeed much augmented once I'd tipped them on) and the aniseed flavours of the fennel went perfectly with the trout. Also, these were the best gnocchi I have had anywhere. The lamb rump with crushed new season potatoes, warm pea salad and salsa verde across the table was both beautiful and generous - two large pieces of off-pink meat with a well-seasoned crust (although we added an extra grind of salt just to add a little more texture), with the warm pea salad and the salsa verde bringing a freshness to the dish that is often lacking with lamb.

It's an unwritten rule when reviewing that you should choose different things in order to try a variety of dishes, but neither of us has a sweet tooth and both went for the selection of British farm house cheese with poached pear, chutney, celery, oat biscuits and knacker bread (which, I now learn, is the proper name for the crispbread we had earlier, and is a much better term). Often a pre-chosen cheese board has one duff option amongst its wares, but not here - all three were excellent and included Garstang Blue and a lovely smoked Brie. Interesting accompaniments too. Drinks-wise, we chose an Argentine Torrontes from a decent and well-priced menu, and thought it great value for £17. The set menu itself is also good value at £22 for two courses or £27 for three - beware though that many of the options (including the scallops, lamb and cheese) carry supplements ranging from £1 to £5, so you could easily end up spending quite a lot more. Still, this is very reasonable for cooking of this standard, and the service struck the right balance between professional and chatty - I will definitely be back.

And as if that wasn't enough excitement, it was time for HMS Pinafore. I've never eaten at The Lowry before seeing a show, and normally end up sprinting full-pelt through the Outlet Mall with about 30 seconds to spare before curtain-up, so to be on-site, relaxed, full of dinner and in good time was quite a revelation. HMS Pinafore surely needs little introduction - it's one of Gilbert and Sullivan's best-known operettas, ostensibly dealing with the thorny issue of love between different social classes but essentially just an excuse for men in vests to hurl themselves around a stage having a lovely sing-song. And what a lot of vests there were - this is an all-male cast, and features some quite astonishing performances in the female roles as well as some great staging and set-pieces involving bunk beds, torches and creeping up behind the audience (me) to see if they can make them jump (yes). A quick chat during the interval with the elderly couple sitting next to us suggested that this slightly unconventional production isn't for everyone, but I loved every second of it and didn't really want it to end. It's on until tomorrow (Saturday) so do go if you get the chance - if not, I'm happy to come round and perform a selection of my favourite songs in my best baritone. Full details here.

- Pier Eight is at The Lowry, The Quays, Salford M50 3AZ. We were invited in to review and so dinner and the show were complimentary but this has not affected my opinions.

Opera North Bring Mozart's Cosi fan Tutte to Manchester's Lowry Theatre

It's been a while since I've been to see Opera North, and I've missed them. Anyone who thinks opera is pretentious, or boring, or po-faced upper class nonsense really needs to spend an evening with this most talented of companies, who never fail to entertain and who understand that great opera should be funny as well as beautiful. I also like that they don't do things by halves and seemingly have no aversion to making life harder for themselves - they tend to rock up at The Lowry from time to time with not one but three different productions, all in the same week.

Last week I saw the first of these, an English-sung performance of Mozart's Cosi fan Tutte. Now, most operas - at least the ones I have seen - are somewhat slim of plot, but this one is a pretty straightforward story even by opera standards. Don Alfonso is a philosopher who clearly has both too much time on his hands and an inherent distrust of women - to prove a point, he bets his two friends, Ferrando and Guglielmo, that their beloveds cannot stay faithful over the course of a day. During that day they must do whatever he says, and thus have to go along with the charade when he tells sisters Fiordiligi and Dorabella that their menfolk have been sent overseas on active service. Cue lots of caterwauling and posing mournfully but attractively on high-backed chairs by the two young ladies, who are quite obviously going to pass the fidelity test with flying colours. Well, they might have done were it not for Don Alfonso and their feisty lady's maid Despina, who orchestrate a (not very) cunning plan in which Ferrando and Guglielmo dress up as two handsome strangers and put their seductive powers to the test.

As plots go, it's a deliberately sparse one. There's much to be enjoyed along the way - there are some surprisingly funny lines (often at the expense of female honour - even the name of the opera suggests that we're all the same) and the performances are flawless as usual. All but one of the cast are Opera North regulars, and we particularly enjoy the bumbling charms of Nicholas Watts and Gavin Ring as they haplessly attempt to both resist and seduce each other's girlfriends. The staging is also effectively handled, although understated by Opera North's standards - a one-room setting (the sisters' home) that contracts and expands like a vice to reflect the stifling nature of the situation and which cleverly uses doors and lifts to represent different elements of the seduction process. In other words, Opera North do nothing wrong. This just isn't one of my favourite operas - the music is beautiful, with its repeated motifs and stunning arias, but the story just isn't quite enough for me, and words that sound seductive in Italian don't always convey the same mystery and beauty when sung in English. The questions raised over sexual morals in this closed, claustrophobic world are interesting ones, but the distress of some of the characters - particularly Fiordiligi - under the manipulation of Don Alfonso is a little too discomfiting for me.

That said, there are few better ways of spending an evening than in the company of Opera North. They are young, enterprising, sexy and talented - and anyone who still thinks that opera is for the elite may like to know that later in the evening I found myself discussing just how poorly Fiordiligi had been treated with the lady herself (Maire Flavin) on Twitter. I'm already looking forward to their return - keep an eye on their website for news of upcoming productions. Just don't blame me if you end up speaking to everyone in song the next day...

- photos courtesy of Opera North: all photo credits Tristram Kenton.

Pier Eight Bar & Restaurant, Salford Quays: The Lowry Theatre Finally Gets the Restaurant it Deserves

I've long been an admirer of the Lowry, which I consider to be an excellent example of a modern, purpose-built theatre - two differently sized performance areas with very comfy seats, in a super-stylish building with great views and convenient parking. They also have Lowry paintings there, and an interesting programme of high-quality productions, and a ruinously tempting giftshop. What the Lowry hasn't had - until now - is a decent restaurant, the sort of place you make time to visit before a show because you want to eat there rather than being forced from necessity to forage for food before embarking on a three hour opera; indeed, I must confess to more often grabbing a burger at the nearby Lime rather than eat in the Lowry's own restaurant.

Thankfully, that's all changed now with the opening of Pier Eight. This is the Lowry's new bar/restaurant area, and they've worked wonders with the old space, borrowing some of the outdoor area and creating a new venue with its own separate entrance that should lure in locals, shoppers and workers as well as theatregoers. The menu is a total and utter charmer - not exactly groundbreaking, perhaps, but full of things I would like to eat and which show a real understanding of how to combine ingredients to good effect as well as a few touches of finesse here and there. We'd spent the morning Christmas shopping at the Lowry Outlet Mall, and the boyfriend's reward was a mighty starter of black pudding, crispy egg, tomato chutney, creme fraiche and celery salad - an absolute steal at £6. I appreciate it's not difficult to fry sliced black pudding, but the quantities were generous and the perfectly runny egg encased in crisp crumb coating elevated this dish to something really quite classy. That said, there was a great deal of chutney, and while its sweetness went well with the richly savoury black pudding, some of it did prove superfluous. Meanwhile, I had a most elegant dish of scallops with cauliflower purée, bacon, lentils and smoked red wine sauce, which was as dainty as the black pudding was hearty - two plump scallops beautifully cooked and served with a deeply earthy little pile of lentils. I would never have thought of serving scallops with a red wine sauce but it really worked.

The mains were similarly well-balanced in terms of flavours and textures. One of the features of the menu is that the meat dishes tend to include two different cuts or techniques of the animal in question; thus my fillet steak came with a hefty cube of falling-apart-tender braised blade as well as bubble & squeak, artichoke purée, buttered spinach (cunningly disguised as a sprout) and braising sauce. I would have liked my steak a little rarer; when I ordered, I was asked if I was happy for it to be served pink, suggesting that some of their previous clientele prefer a more well-done steak, and I would indeed have liked it even more pink. Still, next time I would simply emphasise this when ordering. To recover from his meaty starter, my lunch date chose Scottish salmon with parsley crust, rosti potato, white beans, celeriac, cockles and shallot cream sauce, another interesting dish that benefitted from its thoughtful partnering of ingredients, particularly the shatteringly crisp fish skin with its fresh green crust again the rich creamy blandness of the beans.

We were very full by this point, but the cheeseboard was quite simply irresistible: Lancashire Bomber, Garstang Blue, Lincolnshire poacher, poached pear, celery and biscuits is my idea of a quality selection - three excellent British (and mostly local) cheeses served at the correct temperature in generous wedges with crackers and more of that lovely tomato chutney we met during the starter course. I've never been beaten by a cheeseboard before, but the generous quantities defeated our enthusiastic joint effort; you will believe me when I say I've rued the cheese I couldn't eat every day since.

Overall, we were impressed. The staff are young and friendly and enthusiastic about the menu, and the views from our table across to the War Museum were most impressive (and it was an unseasonably sunny day, hence the slightly phallic shadow cast by the crispy egg). We thought prices were very reasonable, and although we had the car and therefore weren't really drinking, the wine list offers plenty by the glass and the glass of Chardonnay I had was very good value for something that slipped down so easily. We're already planning our next visit - and I reckon if I'm good for an entire visit round the Imperial War Museum I reckon I'll have earned crispy egg AND cheese...

- Pier Eight Restaurant is at the Lowry Theatre, Pier 8, Salford Quays M50 3AZ. They offer a bar menu and fixed price menus as well as the a la carte that we tried.

Opera North's La Traviata at The Lowry: Passion in Paris (via Salford)

Now, whilst I am painfully aware that I am no longer in the first flush of youth, I do still consider myself at least relatively young. I have never been on a cruise; I do not own a tartan shopping trolley; and I do not (yet) say "aaaaaaah" after my first sip of a cup of tea. I do, however, like the opera - something which still prompts some surprise in those who clearly regard opera as the preserve of the posh and the elderly rather than someone who is prone to drinking too much Prosecco and falling over on a night out. The always-magnificent Opera North are on a bit of a mission to prove that a night at the opera is a wonderful thing no matter what your age, and specifically set out to attract a new audience in the spring with La Boheme (a huge success - more than half of the Leeds audiences were new to Opera North). That mission continued this week at Salford's Lowry, with another crowd pleaser set in Paris and perhaps the best-known opera of the lot: Verdi's La Traviata.

As is typically the case with opera, the story is a straightforward one: girl meets boy and sings a beautiful duet with him (in this case, it's a courtesan named Violetta and a handsome young man called Alfredo); circumstances break them up (here, it's Alfredo's father, Giorgio, who convinces Violetta to leave Alfredo as she is besmirching the family name and preventing his daughter's chances of marriage); love wins through (hurray!); then finally a heartbreaking ending (I hope I'm not ruining any surprises when I suggest you take note of the nasty cough Violetta has from Act One). The story isn't the point really - and indeed, its simplicity is a blessed relief for those of us whose Italian is a bit ropey and who would rather not bother reading all the subtitles that pop up on the screens in front the stage. The brevity of the plot leaves you free to listen to the beauty of the music - and La Traviata is packed full of familiar tunes that pretty much everybody will know, most notably perhaps "The Drinking Song" (which someone was rude enough to point out on Twitter that I was bound to know).

Being Opera North, the staging is slick and modern and clever, from the lengthy trip round Violetta's lungs at the beginning to the breathtaking night sky that provides the backdrop to a glorious party near the end. The cast are as good as we have come to expect from Opera North, with Hye-Youn Lee particularly charismatic as Violetta and putting in an extraordinarily powerful vocal performance that I failed utterly to reproduce in the car on the way home. The only thing I didn't like about the whole production was the fact that there were two intervals. This broke the performance up too much for my liking, although to be fair there is no obvious halfway break due to the second of the three acts having two scenes. Still, it did provide double the amount of opportunities for the consumption of wine, so it's a very minor quibble.

Next time Opera North are back in Manchester it will be with something a bit more cheery - Mozart's Marriage of Figaro. Keep an eye on their website for further details - and don't forget to leave your shopping trolley at the back...

- photos taken from the Opera North website - photo credit: Richard H Smith.

Opera North's La Boheme Brings a Parisian Winter to Manchester's Tropical Climes

So, summer has finally hit Manchester. Sitting outside Lime at The Lowry last night, sipping a glass of wine and demolishing a basket of bread, one could almost have been in Barcelona rather than Salford, with the sun beating down and a general air of bonhomie pervading.

All the greater testimony, then, to the skill of Opera North, who last night began the first of a four night run of Puccini's splendid La Bohème at The Lowry Theatre. Within minutes, were were transported to Christmas Eve in Paris' poor Latin Quarter, and an attic apartment so cold that its occupants are forced to burn pages of a playscript in order to keep warm - no mean feat when at least half the audience are in sandals and sundresses. Into this apartment wanders beautiful Mimi, the lovely seamstress who lives next door and whose candle has blown out on the stairs (I plan to use this cunning ruse myself at some point); equally penniless writer Rodolfo lights it, hides her key (perhaps don't try this one - this would make me cross rather than make me move in) and a great love affair is born.

The remaining three acts chart their struggles with the usual relationship woes (no money, quarrelling, flirting with other people, jealousy etc etc), with Mimi and Rodolfo's relationship mirrored by that of Marcello and Musetta (he is a poverty-stricken artist; she is a gloriously vampish, leopardprint-wearing Amazonian goddess on whom I plan to model myself in future) - it seems that the course of true love can never run smoothly in this particularly Bohemian area of Paris. I won't spoil the ending, but true love does eventually prevail in a way that only the very hardest of hearts could fail to find romantic.

This being Opera North, the staging is witty and inventive and the cast uniformly young, sexy and talented - although I do feel that the central pairing of Rodolfo and Mimi are slightly upstaged by the ridiculously charismatic and gorgeous Duncan Rock and Sky Ingram as Marcello and Musetta. Phyllida Lloyd's direction is slick and seamless, and the orchestra as flawless and powerful as one would expect from an outfit as professional as Opera North. La Bohème is on at The Lowry until Saturday 17th May - I highly recommend you get your overcoat back out the cupboard, find your discarded gloves and go and experience a Parisian winter with this beautiful young cast.

Opera North Bring Puccini's La Bohème to Manchester's Lowry Theatre May 2014

Now, one of my very favourite guilty pleasures is Baz Luhrmann's Moulin Rouge. Last time I saw it was during a movie night at The Didsbury Lounge, but I really prefer to watch it on my own at home so that I may sing along loudly to my heart's content, with my vocal performance audibly increasing in nuanced skill and range the further down the bottle of wine I get.

I do understand that this is wrong, however, and am delighted to be able to redeem myself in a week or so by going to see an altogether more highbrow Parisian romance. Yep, the wonderful Opera North are back in town, this time bringing one of my all-time favourite operas: Puccini's La Bohème, which tells the story of the penniless Rodolfo and his beautiful but equally broke neighbour Mimi set against the backdrop of the Latin Quarter. This is a pretty romantic story anyway, but I have yet to see an Opera North performance that is anything less than brilliant, witty and sexy so I have high hopes with this one (particularly when I see the photos of this beautiful cast). The sets and staging are always inventive and performances uniformly excellent, and with acclaimed director Phyllida Lloyd at the helm it's hard to imagine this will be any different.

I have taken a succession of opera virgins along to Opera North's previous productions, and every single one of them has emerged a convert to this most moving of genres - if you think opera is stuffy and inaccessible and elitist then I can't recommend Opera North highly enough to change this perception. And, as a knowledgeable opera goer, I'm not ashamed to throw in a bit of technical parlance and suggest that La Bohème would be an excellent starter opera because it's full of right lovely singing and has some tunes you will recognise. Opera North's La Bohème will be at The Lowry Theatre between 14th and 17th May with tickets from £27 (although the tissues you'll need will cost you extra).

Opera North Bring Verdi's Macbeth to Manchester's Lowry

Now, I like lying on the sofa in my pyjamas eating fish finger butties (extra ketchup please) as much as the next person. And often, after a day at work pontificating in pretentious fashion about literature, this is all I want to do, perhaps with a few crisps thrown in for good measure - it takes quite a lot to get me out the house and into Manchester on a week night. Fortunately, one of those things is Opera North, that estimable company based just across the Pennines in Leeds, and who have yet to put on a duff performance (if you hang around, I can probably work that up into a really great "MacDUFF" joke). Last night they brought Verdi's Macbeth to The Lowry, and it was probably my favourite Opera North performance yet - even perhaps eclipsing my own impassioned delivery of Shakespeare's version to somewhat less-impassioned GCSE students.

This was a fairly traditional staging by Opera North's standards - they are consistently sexy and innovative in their performances, but this time the astonishing quality of the soloists and the sheer power and beauty of Verdi's compositions were allowed to shine through unencumbered by frippery. The cast was uniformly excellent, with Bela Perencz convincing in the lead role - note perfect right to the end and veering between guilt-stricken and power-crazed - and Kelly Cae Hogan a pleasing combination of ambition and blouse-ripping hotness. Indeed, the sexual nature of their partnership is emphasised as they celebrate their murderous deeds in the marital bed that had earlier served as the site of King Duncan's slaughter, before being pushed off-stage by the ever-present witches.

The re-imagining of the witches as three household servants is inspired; at first, floor-scrubbing skivvies doesn't seem a frightening enough guise for these malevolent souls (no green faces; no warty noses), but it actually means they are always there, lurking within the castle walls, keeping an eye on procedings as the Macbeths career helplessly down the path they have predicted, casting their shadows literally and metaphorically over the stage at almost all times. Lighting is well-used throughout - the trees that later form the boughs of Birnham Wood marching on the castle cast their broomstick-like shadows and create a particularly menacing atmosphere when Banquo and his young son are attacked in a scene that genuinely had me reaching for my fair companion's hand. And we BOTH wiped away a surreptitious tear when Macduff, played by a marvellous Jung Soo Tun, tunefully swore vengeance on his dead children in a powerful solo.

Opera North are ALWAYS good. But this is the first time I've ever been to the theatre after work and not once looked at my watch - we were both utterly captivated from start to finish, and left feeling genuinely emotionally affected. It's on again tomorrow (Saturday 8th March) and if you can get a ticket then GO - otherwise, Opera North will be back in Manchester in May with La Boheme, and I for one can't wait.

Opera North's The Makropulos Case at The Lowry: Guest Blogger is Smitten, and Wants to Bounce on her OWN Bed

Now, I know what you're thinking, and it goes a little something like this: "Well - that WAS an enjoyable and informative blog post on Opera North's current productions of Faust and Don Giovanni - I feel it was was entertaining AND useful - infotainment, if you will. However, I believed Opera North to be touring THREE shows this season - what of The Makropulos Case? And, more importantly, who will go out of Strictly tonight?"

Well, as it happens I can answer BOTH of those questions for you, but in the interests of leaving your viewing pleasure unbesmirched I will concentrate solely on the former - here's lovely guest blogger Nicole to tell us more...

Now, as an opera virgin, I'm not afraid to admit that I did have some pre-conceptions. Firstly, that all operas are highbrow, frequented by people who know the plot, and the songs (yes, I know that's not the technical term) intimately. In my mind, there is also a strict dress code - diamond drop earrings, glittering floor-length gown and expensive fur definitely NOT optional. Cue frenetic fretting about what to wear, curbed only when Liz tells me, "dress smartly, but not too glamorously, as the man next to me was wearing an actual anorak!" As a firm believer that there is no outfit that cannot be tarted up with a shiny blazer, a pair of vertiginous heels, and slick of red lipstick, I slid into a taxi (the tram being, in my mind, wholly unsuitable for such an important event in my life) and made my way to The Lowry for my first ever opera experience - Opera North's production of The Makropulos Case.

His penultimate opera, The Makropulos Case is one of Janacek's lesser known works - an adaptation of Karel Capek's play of the same name, written in the 1920s. At the heart of The Makropulos Case is the long-hoped-for resolution of the Gregor vs. Prus case, a legal battle over an unclaimed estate that has dragged on for over a century, and dragged many generations of both families into destitution and death. Albert Gregor ('Bertie' - played with complete conviction by Paul Nilon) is on tenterhooks waiting to hear the outcome of the latest legal brawl, when the "dazzling, seductive and fascinating" soprano Emilia Marty (the captivating Ylva Kihlberg) arrives at his lawyer's office with some surprisingly accurate knowledge of the case, and some mysteries of her own. Bertie promptly falls in love with Miss Marty, and so begins the drama. Although essentially a dramatic comedy, The Makropulos Case presents some real food-for-thought: if you could live forever, would you really want to if it meant living without love? And can we ever truly appreciate life unless we accept that at some point, we will die?

Opera North have set their production in the same decade, and the set design and costumes are suitably 'roaring', particularly Miss Marty's shimmering dress coat, which I briefly considered snaffling, as it is entirely suitable attire for my next girls' Sparkle Night. The staging was particularly inventive, with the detailed hustle and bustle of a lawyer's office in Act 1 convincingly portrayed through stacked shelves and desks in varying states of disarray. Act 2 takes place backstage following Marty's latest performance, giving the cast the opportunity to have fun and allow the audience in on a few backstage secrets, with a knowing wink. The final act brings the story to its riveting climax in Marty's hotel room, where the bed in the middle of the stage, resplendent with diaphanous curtain, becomes the focus, despite the huddle of armchairs stage right (well, I am practically an expert now) that remains throughout the acts, serving as a waiting area, a stack of disused furniture, and a lounge area respectively.

Admittedly, the first 15 minutes of the opera were, for me, a rather unsettling experience. Having been led to believe that opera consists of a series of sung pieces hinged on a gravely serious plot, it was a surprise when the characters began to sing their lines to each other. Coupled with the fact that The Makropulos Case is a comedy, as an opera novice, I felt in a state of cognitive dissonance - was I to laugh, or nod soberly? As soon as I realised laughter was acceptable, nay, expected (especially with such pithy quips as "Do you want to spit in my face?" "No, I want to spit in my own!"), I got into the groove. I found myself unable to take my eyes off Kihlberg, and began to fancy myself as an Emilia Marty figure: beguiling, jet-setting, jaded. Well, I was wearing red lipstick...My companion and I both agreed that Act 3 was most enjoyable, due almost entirely to Kihlberg's mesmerizing portrayal of Marty's self-destruction - as she bounced on the bed with reckless abandon whilst swigging from a bottle of wine, we exchanged a glance of recognition, mentally singing along to our own internal soundtrack *aaaall byyyyy myyseeellf...* Unfortunately, this was the only song to run through my head following the performance as the production did not include any sung pieces, which I was a little disappointed by. Despite this, the orchestral accompaniment was aurally luminous, and the ovation for conductor Richard Farnes justly deserved.

Back to my pre-opera pre-conceptions. I can honestly say that Opera North made my first experience a very positive one. The Makropulos Case is accessible for opera newbies as it is sung in English, and for those who can't quite discern the dialogue, the subtitles are helpfully displayed on large, easily-visible screens to the side of the stage (however, if like me, you find yourself needing to continually refer to the subtitles to be sure you are following the complexities of the plot, it can be distracting). With all first-timers, I must reflect on what I have learnt from my experience: 1. Opera can be funny. 2. Not all operas contain arias (yes, I have now learnt the technical term) 3. You don't have to be glam, but of course it helps if you identify with the main character...! My companion - also new to the opera - summed up her experience of The Makropulos Case as being "like a musical version of Death Becomes Her - but in a very good way". And in the taxi home, we found ourselves deeply engaged in a discussion about the relevance of Heidegger's 'Seine zum Ende' (a being towards death) - his idea that until we accept that death is not just a possibility, we will never fully 'live' our lives. Now who would have thought my first experience of opera would have provoked a discussion of 20th century German existential philosophy? Certainly not I, but I would certainly go again.

Opera North's Faust and Don Giovanni at The Lowry, Salford: Local Girl Tra-La-Las and Wants to Dress as Madonna

There's a general perception, I think, that opera is kind of old, and stuffy, and elitist. If I asked you to picture your idea of a typical opera-goer, I'm betting there's a good chance you'll think of a posho posh elderly couple - he has a grey suit, and a slightly military bearing, and possibly a handkerchief a-poking out his top pocket; she has a tidy bouffant updo, and a twinset, and possibly a pince-nez. And I'm not denying that there weren't plenty such in evidence at The Lowry this week when Opera North rolled into town, bearing tasty mid-week treats in the form of Faust on Tuesday night and Don Giovanni on Wednesday, but they certainly were not in the majority - what Opera North do best is make this most majestic of all the theatrical arts accessible, appealing, and - dare I say it - sexy to all.

And I do mean ALL - I can pay no finer accolade to Opera North than by pointing out that, on a busy night of European football action, Mr Liz actually requested to come and see Gounod's Faust with me on Tuesday. This classic tale of a middle-aged scholar and his desperate yearnings to relive the pleasures of his youth (hmmm - *looks closely at self in the mirror*) was first performed in 1859 and has been an Opera North favourite since 1986; the current production opened to rave reviews in Leeds last month.

You probably know the story already - Dr Faust is a lonely man, getting older and feeling all alone in a world he no longer relates to; he contemplates suicide, and calls upon Satan, who duly appears and offers him renewed youth and all its pleasures in exchange for the trifling consideration of his immortal soul. The clincher here is the vision that Mephistopheles shows him of Marguerite, a beautiful young woman who - the devil suggests - can be Faust's if he agrees to make the deal; Faust thinks long and hard for about half a second and agrees. He is transformed into an attractive young man (albeit minus his soul, which now glows becomingly in the devil's greedy mitt) and begins his pursuit of Marguerite; I will reveal no more of the plot but will suggest that all of this is unlikely to end well, lest we all start following Faust's example, handing over our souls to any passing charmer (hmmm - *looks closely at self in the mirror, again*).

As ever with Opera North, the central performances are flawless - Peter Auty shines as Faust, and I am finding James Creswell FAR too sexy as Mephistopheles by the end of the show. Juanita Lascarro is also most convincing as the chaste young girl who gamely resists Faust's advances until he showers her with shedloads of diamonds (*mirror now on floor, smashed*). The updating is as inventive as ever - the chorus takes the guise of a bunch of immoral, greedy, lascivious bankers, storming the stage importantly wielding their iPads, and much use is made of sliding screens onto which are projected various images which are often suitably dark and unsettling (but which do at times become a little distracting).

Anyway, after all this brilliant darkness, and passion, and death, it is fortunate that Wednesday night's production of Mozart's Don Giovanni is played very much for laughs. This is an equally familiar tale - Don G is a serial charmer and seducer, making a string of empty promises to all the women he meets and then leaving them heartbroken and - in the case of his magnificent former conquest Elvira - more than a little cross. We follow him on his eventful last day, which begins with a grope that goes very wrong and ends with a splendidly baroque picnic with a dead man, with just time to seduce a bride on her wedding day in between.

I know that this perhaps doesn't sound like a barrel of laughs (particularly as, the same as Faust, we know that things cannot possibly end well for a man who is mean to women and goes round killing people, or they'd all be doing it), but it really is. This is largely due to the character of Don G's increasingly frustrated servant Leporello, who spends most of his time either keeping watch while his master is seducing his latest lady friend or avoiding a comedy beating from all the previous ones; he is splendidly played by Alastair Miles with a perfect combination of righteous anger and a keen urge to get laid himself, just once. Other standout performances come from the women - Elizabeth Atherton makes for a feisty Elvira, alternating between a classy laydee and a dejected, pouting figure dressed in Desperately Seeking Susan era Madonna-esque lace, whilst Claire Wild's turn as Zerlina, the innocent young bride who turns out to have a great deal of inner raunch, contains one song (delivered from atop her new husband) that you probably won't forget in a while.

The staging is also quite brilliant, relying heavily on use of puppets - characters often appear as scaled down, mannequin-like versions of themselves, and the moment at the end when our philandering hero finally meets his maker is quite something. It also goes without saying that in both productions the music is flawless - Opera North might play it for laughs sometimes, but they always take the essentials seriously, which probably explains why they appeal to both opera purists and to people like me and my Wednesday companion (who particularly enjoys the bit where Don G buries his face in a pair of boob-shaped jellies). In fact, as she was, until Wednesday, an opera virgin, I will use her words to sum up her cherry-popping experience: stunning, brilliant...and SAUCY. And that, I would say, sums up Opera North pretty well.

- You can find out more about Opera North here, and about The Lowry and their other productions here.

Opera North Go Wild at The Lowry for Local Girl's Birthday: Faust, Don Giovanni and The Makropulos Case all in November

Now, on the whole, having a birthday in November is a largely undesirable situation. I understand, of course, that it's not as bad as being born just before Christmas and thereby receiving only one set of presents as well as having to compete with celebrations for somebody else's birth, but nevertheless it really does mean a pile up of festivities at one end of the year and then very little else for 11 months - woe betide the November baby who runs out of Jo Malone mid-March, for example *voice of experience*.

Still, this November I shall be celebrating my birth in style by going to not one but THREE new productions at The Lowry Theatre by the wonderful Opera North; it's as if they knew that I would never be able to choose just one to go and see, and have handily arranged matters so that I may justify the whole rip-roaring, roof-raising lot of them. First up is Faust, with performances on Tuesday 6th and Friday 9th November; this got a pretty good write-up in The Sunday Times last week, with the observation that "Opera North bring Gounod's cheesy fable forcefully and cleverly up to date". Anyone who has seen an Opera North performance before (particularly the trailer-trash version of Carmen that visited Manchester last year) will know that this kind of modern approach is one of their strengths, even if they do manage to upset the odd traditionalist from time to time, so this bodes well indeed.

Alongside Faust, Opera North are also bringing Mozart's Don Giovanni (on Wednesday 7th and Saturday 10th November) and a Janáček opera that I am not familiar with called The Makropulos Case on Thursday 8th. Both of these deal with love, the former telling the story of an inveterate pleasure-seeker (based, of course, on Don Juan) as he cuts a seductive swathe through the hearts of all he lays eyes (and more) upon, and the latter posing a more romantic conundrum by asking us whether we would wish for immortality even if our endless life was one without love (answer: maybe, possibly - not sure; would depend on supply of chocolate digestives and American TV box sets).

Anyway, full details can be found here on the Lowry website, and I will leave you with some tempting images from Don Giovanni. Remember though, you might wangle permission to see one or all of these, but you ONLY get ice-cream at each and every interval IF it is Birthday Month...

A Tribute to the Blues Brothers - LIVE Gets Local Girl Dancing in the Aisles at Manchester's Lowry Theatre

Now, although I like Edinburgh very much, and visit on a pretty regular basis (not least because Mr Liz claims at least twice a year that "something may have changed" at the Scotch Whisky Experience, thus necessitating yet another trip), I have never actually been when the Edinburgh Festival is on. There are two probable reasons for this. Firstly, I am mildly claustrophobic, and just thought of the vast number of people likely to descend upon this fair city at Festival time makes me feel a little anxious. What I suspect to be the real reason, though, is the vague notion I have of what the Festival might be like - a notion that involves an entire weekend of picking the wrong things to see, thereby earning oneself the pleasure of sitting through a selection of fairy tales performed entirely through the medium of dance and/or mime, or perhaps some scary, shouting, wild-haired thespians banging on drums whilst loudly proclaiming the complete works of Ibsen in Norwegian, and possibly backwards.

I do understand, of course, that the Festival is (probably) not really like this. I know plenty of people who go every single year, and who speak with passion and excitement of the times they have discovered a true gem lurking amidst the Hungarian drummers - a thrill I myself will never experience. Fortunately for me, I did manage to catch up with one of these gems in the altogether safer environs of The Lowry Theatre last week, as the Hartshorn-Hook production A Tribute to the Blues Brothers - Live made its Manchester debut after three successful seasons at the Fringe AND a run on the West End. This is essentially an hour and a half of insanely catchy music interspersed with the odd key line from the original film, and is exactly the kind of way that EVERYONE should spend Thursday nights: sitting in a darkened theatre wearing sunglasses as two men - one thin, one fat - sing great songs accompanied by enthusiastic and talented musicians, and doing a small, surreptitious dance at the back of the box during the second half to help burn off the big fat portion of confit de canard consumed before the show (actually, this might just have been me).

The show has apparently now played to over 10,000 people (9,995 more than have seen the Hungarian shouty Ibsen, no doubt), and is the only one in the UK licensed to use Jake and Elwood, the Blues Brothers characters. As if that wasn't enough, Hartshorn-Hook Productions (founded by Louis Hartshorn and Brian Hook five years ago) are a Manchester-based company, so whilst Jake and Elwood have now packed up their bumble-bee suits and moved on from our fair city, you should certainly take the chance to see them next time they're in town - keep an eye on the Hartshorn-Hook website for details of upcoming shows.

As for me, I'm off to plan my next holiday - I hear Edinburgh is just LOVELY this time of year...

Rat Pack Live, Blues Brothers Live and An Evening of Burlesque all Come to Manchester: Local Girl Casts Off Shakespeare Shackles

Sometimes, it's hard to accept that we are who we are rather than who we think we should be. Getting older of course helps with this: being advanced in years has finally gives me the confidence to admit that I don't like festivals (mud/chemical toilets/crowds), or Dickens (too long/too smug/too pompous), or certain city centre bars (queues/ridiculous prices/clientele almost exclusively young enough to be own child), amongst other things. And now, the final bastion has fallen, at last. For, despite being an English lecturer with a great love of my subject (Dickens aside, although I've tried with him, I really have), I have finally admitted to myself that when I go to the theatre I do NOT WANT to watch something worthy, or highbrow, or noble, or educational. What I actually want is to see people singing, dancing, high-kicking and generally jigging about in an ebullient manner, preferably with moments where I can myself sing along, just quietly, under my breath.

I can't begin to tell you how liberating a feeling this is. No more Chekhov on a wet Wednesday night; no more "interesting" interpretations of Shakespeare's oeuvre. Instead, I am delighted to say that I will be seeing all of these merry productions in September:

First up is Rat Pack Live at The Lowry on September 7th, an evening of big band swing featuring the music of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jnr. I wrote about this a couple of months ago when I was running a competition to win tickets so I won't say too much more now, other than wishing the winners of the competition a lovely time and hoping for their sake they will not be seated next to me, for the fact that I don't actually know the words to many of these songs will NOT prevent me from attempting to sing along.

Next up is The Blues Brothers - Live, also at The Lowry Theatre, on the 20th and 21st September. The original film is one of two I remember watching with my older sister when I was about 10 (the other was The Rocky Horror Picture Show); clearly, I was too young to understand either of these wasted masterpieces, but gamely pretended to know what was going on and laughed at all the bits my sister laughed at (although a beat too late to be entirely convincing, obviously). Anyway, it's 30 years since the death of John Belushi, so it's fitting that this production - the only officially licensed production of the Blues Brothers outside of America, and presented in association with both Judith Belushi and Dan Aykroyd - should hit Manchester. This particular show, a Hartshorn – Hook Production, won rave reviews at the Edinburgh Festival in 2009 and looks GOOD - I might even stand on my seat for this one*.

*Note to anyone reading this from The Lowry: I promise I will NOT stand on my seat at any point during this production.

And finally, just when my show-girl heart was fit to burst anyway, An Evening of Burlesque is coming to Manchester's Palace Theatre on Friday 21st September. Now, I'm pretty much of a newcomer to all this burlesque business (I'm fairly sure that having sat through the Cher movie of the same name and occasionally high-kicking into the kitchen to put the kettle on does not qualify one as an expert in this field), but I DID go to the Moulin Rouge earlier this month and am looking forward to seeing the UK's first (and only) touring burlesque show in the, erm, flesh, as it were. The producers promise "it’s all tease, no sleaze" *watches Mr Liz's face fall* and that there will be corsets, killer heels and stockings aplenty *watches Mr Liz brighten up again* as some of the world's most famous burlesque stars take to the stage (and me, from the comfort of my seat).

Of course, this new-found liberation won't last - I'll just make sure I enjoy it while it lasts...*goes off, can-canning just a little*

Further information on all productions can be found on The Lowry and The Palace websites.

Competition Time: Win a Pair of Tickets for Rat Pack Live at The Lowry, Salford in September 2012

One of the very nicest things about getting older is that you're allowed to like whatever music you want, without fear of recrimination. This is particularly true if you spend your daylight hours in the company of people in their late teens, who are uniformly so amazed that you can walk and talk under your own steam that they are in danger of passing out altogether should they discover that you shop at TopShop and have a passing familiarity with what I believe is known in modern youth vernacular as the Hit Parade. Even better, as in their heads you are approximately 115 years old they gape in sheer astonishment as you admire their Joy Division or Blondie t-shirt, or comment sadly on your inability to get hold of Stone Roses tickets.

However, whilst it's wholly acceptable (and indeed admirable) to cling fondly to the songs from your 80s and 90s teenage years, it is also entirely permissable to mock your long-suffering husband for listening to Old FM in the car. I have long since enjoyed this pursuit, soundly haranguing poor Mr Liz for his love of what can only be described as "music off of black and white" - until recently, that is. I have gradually come round to his love of Frank Sinatra (particularly the big New York, New York type numbers, which lend themselves so splendidly to singing along at the top of one's voice in the confines of a car, much to the delight of the person unlucky enough to be driving at the time) and Dean Martin, whose Volare simply DEMANDS to be belted out in an authentically sultry Italian style.

So it is with little reluctance that I am accompanying an excited Mr Liz to see Rat Pack Live at The Lowry on Friday 7th September - a brand new show featuring the music of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr which brings the stars from the West End hit Rat Pack Live from Las Vegas to the altogether more glamorous surroundings of Rat Pack Live from, erm, Salford. You can find out more about the show here, on The Lowry website, but - even more excitingly - you can win a pair of tickets to see the show HERE. Over to the experts...

Things to do in Manchester has teamed up with the producers of the Rat Pack Live concert show to give a lucky reader the chance of winning a pair of tickets to see the spectacular production at the Lowry Theatre, Salford on Friday 7th September 2012 at 7.30pm.

It's the ultimate tribute to legendary Fifties and Sixties phenomenon the Rat Pack – Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jnr. They were the definition of cool during their Fifties and Sixties Vegas heyday – just ask Mr Liz. Combining the full sound of big band swing with charisma, panache and swagger, the trio – collectively known as The Rat Pack – had attitude to spare.

Join the UK’s original Rat Pack concert show, featuring stars of the West End smash hit Rat Pack Live from Las Vegas:

Following his triumphant portrayal of Dean Martin in London’s West End, Mark Halliday went on to tour the USA, Europe and the UK with the famous production. Other credits include two years in the States creating the role of Hades in Disney’s new musical Hercules plus lead appearances in runaway touring hit shows Girls Night Out and Aspects of Love.

The evening’s Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jnr boast similarly impressive credentials including, respectively:
· Starring roles with the BBC Concert Orchestra, Passadena Roof Orchestra and Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Orchestra plus appearances with the likes of Sandie Shaw, Sophie Ellis Bextor and Mica Paris
· National tours portraying Sammy Davis Jnr with the West End Rat Pack and Nat King Cole in Strictly Swing.

Together the talented trio combine superbly. . .spectacularly. . . swingsationally in The Rat Pack Live. Featuring all the patter and razzamatazz of the Rat Pack’s infamous live stage show, join the UK’s number one Frank, Dean and Sammy live concert extravaganza. Prepare to experience the definition of cool…courtesy of www.easytheatres.com.

To win tickets please answer this simple question: The Rat Pack Live features tributes to Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jnr and which other famous Fifties and Sixties crooner? The first entry drawn will win a pair of tickets to the show.

Send your answer by email to manchestercomps@hotmail.co.uk with your name, address, email address and daytime phone number before the closing date of midnight on Sunday 1st July 2012. First prize will go to the first entry randomly drawn on this date. There is no cash alternative. Usual rules apply and my decision is final (I LOVE saying this).

To buy tickets contact The Lowry Box office via their website or by calling 0843 208 6000 between 9.30am and 8pm Monday to Saturday or 11am and 6pm on Sundays.

Good luck...and I'll leave you with this publicity shot of the cast, winningly entitled "New rats" - I'm off to practise my a-swinging and a-crooning.

Jim White at The Lowry, Salford: Local Girl Now Transformed into Hard-Drinking American Broad

Now, in my (almost) five years of writing this blog, I have discovered it to have two key advantages. Firstly, it is an excellent displacement activity for all kinds of undesirable tasks such as housework, exercise, doctoral work etc; indeed, if ANYONE approaches you with a request for which you care little, all you need to do is furrow your brow, peer intellectually at the screen of the laptop, mime furiously efficient typing movements and hiss "I'm WORKING" and the chances are that person will respectfully back off. Secondly - and some might say more importantly - writing a blog encourages you to try things you might not otherwise have considered, or known about; take my recent conversion to whisky, for example, at the behest of the charmingly persuasive Liquorists, documented in all its hazy debauchery here.

And it's entirely in keeping with my new persona as a glamorously down-at-heel whisky drinker (it's important here that you picture me sitting alone somewhere, late at night, with a sad yet worldy-wise expression on my face, drinking whisky and smoking a cigarette in the manner of Marlene Dietrich or similar, rather than the actuality of me slurping tea in my pyjamas and watching the football highlights) that I have also broadened my musical horizons. For on Sunday night I was invited to review the Jim White gig in the intimate Quays Theatre at The Lowry; I'd never heard of him before, but a quick listen to a few of his songs on You Tube convinced me that this talented singer-songwriter from the deep south of America would be the perfect accompaniment to my new incarnation as wronged yet exquisite late night whisky drinker.

Obviously, you can listen to his songs yourself - and indeed you should. The current album, Where it Hits You, is a fabulously beautiful record - wistful and emotional, it's best listened to in a mildly somnolent state where you simply let the sound wash over you (but more of this later): my favourite tracks are the first two - Chase the Dark Away, which you can listen to here, and Sunday's Refrain, which I will hum for you if you give me a call when I'm not busy. What's harder to put into words, though, is just how entertainingly odd a Jim White gig turns out to be. First of all, the support act - the Belgian twosome Stanton - are also his band; he produced their new album, so they all sang some - excellent - songs from this debut for 25 minutes before trooping off for half an hour (presumably to allow the audience to sneak in a bonus gin and tonic). Then they were back, this time with Jim centre-stage, for an hour and a half of singing and what can only be described as story-telling - If Jesus Drove a Motorhome is preceded by a very funny story about Jesus impersonators in his own hometown, and the irritatingly catchy Newspaper is put movingly into context with a tale of illness, near-death and redemption through criminals with amusing names. He promises that we will be able to read all these stories and more in his forthcoming book - if he ever gets round to finishing it.

The new album has received almost whole-heartedly postitive reviews since its release - Uncut awarded it "Americana Album of the Month", whilst The Independent on Sunday rightly commented "there's always room for the real thing, and you'll know it when it hits you" - but it really comes into its own once you've seen Jim White live and can feel the personality behind the songs. If I got the opportunity to go again, I would - particularly as, due to circumstances beyond my control, I was unable to attend Sunday's gig in quite the persona I would have liked. Was I lolling in my seat, drunk on hard liquor and tired from one too many doomed love affairs and perhaps some late nights reading the latest Don DeLillo? Nope - I was lolling in my seat, drunk on the equally heady combination of a gin and tonic, some heavy duty cold and flu meds and a head full of snot; still, I'm hoping that the overall effect to any interested onlookers was pretty much the same...

- you can hear more tales from the South on Jim White's MySpace page; please insert your own nose-blowing sound effects where required.

Opera North's Carousel Comes to The Lowry: Local Girl's Lack of Talent Cruelly Revealed

Now, as previously noted, I am a woman of many talents - in my head, at least. I can't count the number of times I've moved an attentive audience (the cat, bribed to stay with liberal promises of Dreamies) to tears with beautiful renditions of various modern classics that are surely wasted in the confines of my own kitchen. And sometimes, I dance and pirouette my way across the floor towards the beer fridge with the natural grace and poise of an exceptionally talented gazelle.

Of course, it only takes a visit to The Lowry to see anything by Opera North to remind you what real (as opposed to delusional) talent actually looks like. This remarkable Leeds-based company have previously won a reluctant Mr Liz over to opera through their sultry, steamy Carmen, and come pretty close to converting me to Gilbert & Sullivan via their spirited Ruddigore; this week, it's the turn of Carousel, a Rodgers and Hammerstein classic that I had - inexplicably - never seen, not even the film version. And I have to admit that, reading the programme notes beforehand, the whole thing sounded pretty bizarre.

Obviously though, being Opera North, it was superlative in pretty much every way. The story is as follows: young man (the splendidly named Billy Bigelow) puts his arm round young girl (Julie Jordan - only people with alliterative names are allowed to go out with each other in THIS world) on the carousel; both are fired from their jobs as a result. Meanwhile, Julie's friend Carrie is engaged to be married to a Mr Enoch Snow - he owns a fishing boat and is therefore, ahem, quite a catch *smirks at own wit*. Julie is not proving so lucky in her relationship: Billy misses the female attention he used to get on the carousel and has a hankering to go back - until Julie gives him some news that forces him to rethink how he can best fulfil his responsibilities to his wife.

I'll say no more of the plot, just in case you've never seen it, but suffice to say that the second half includes a clam bake (why have I never had one of these? why?), a trip to heaven and a mid-section entitled simply "Ballet" - and it still works. This is partly because the songs are great - I know my work colleagues certainly enjoyed the selection of "Songs from the Shows" I performed for them the following day - and include the infuriatingly catchy June is Bustin' Out All Over and a fairly well-known ditty called You'll Never Walk Alone ("typical Scousers," commented Mr Liz, controversially, "they nick EVERYTHING"*). The whole cast was as pitch-perfect as you'd expect, with standout performances from Joseph Shovelton as Enoch and Claire Boulter as Carrie.

*I take NO responsibility for this remark, or any other made by errant gentlemen with whom I am connected.

The staging was beautiful, with notable scenes including the opening number on the carousel, the scenes set in heaven, and the ballet of the second half. A key scene just after the interval perhaps lacks the required violence that would make it truly convincing, but the packed house was certainly most appreciative of the whole thing, and it speaks volumes about Opera North's peerless reputation that they can pretty much fill such a large venue on a Wednesday night.

And me? Well, I've discovered where my true talents lie: sitting outside Lime, drinking Prosecco and eating olives, and then checking my watch and having to SPRINT across the square two minutes before the performance starts. It's nice to know that we're ALL good at something...

- Carousel is on at The Lowry until Saturday 26th May and then spins away to prepare for its residency at London's Barbican Theatre in August and September - for full details visit the Opera North website.

Forthcoming Events at The Lowry, Salford: Opera North's Carousel and Jim White Allow Local Girl to STOP WRITING ABOUT FOOD

Quite astonishingly, come December this blog will be celebrating its fifth birthday. No-one is more surprised by its unexpected longevity than myself, for I am sadly aware that I am somewhat prone to flightiness, and boredom, and sloth, and all the other essential attributes that point firmly to a short attention span and a blog that will flicker very brightly for a couple of months before slinking quietly off to watch television instead.

That said, the blog hasn't exactly turned out as planned, having originally been envisaged as a highly organised, sleek, efficient sort of enterprise, barking succinct yet eloquently pithy comment on a range of highly intellectual cultural events. Patently, this has not happened, and you have instead been presented with a number of incoherently enthusiastic ramblings on topics ranging from food, to drink, to food - passing through an occasional musing on shoes just to ensure a bit of variety. So it is with some relief that I scan my diary and discover that - amongst all the eating and drinking - I am in fact booked in for a couple of events that might just qualify as CULTURE.

Both are at the estimable Lowry, which has long been a favourite venue of mine (and not just because it has helpfully surrounded itself with shops, restaurants and ample parking, although these do of course help). First up is Opera North's production of Carousel, which arrives hot and breathless in Salford on Wednesday 23rd May, fresh from its opening run in Leeds. I've yet to see a Rodgers & Hammerstein musical, but following my triumphant conversion to Gilbert & Sullivan last year, I'm pretty sure that Opera North will do a similarly sterling job in widening my musical tastes still further. Full review - including notes on which ice-cream I had at half time and which song I sang along with the most memorably to the delight of cast and audience alike - will follow the event, but you can have a sneaky peek here - it looks great, and Opera North are ALWAYS brilliant.

Staying on a musical theme, I am also looking forward to see Jim White play the Lowry's Quays Theatre on Sunday 10th June. This much-acclaimed American singer-songwriter released his debut album back in 1997, but I am something of a recent convert to his slightly off-beat, country-esque charms. Mojo say of his latest album, Where it Hits You, "once an Americana pioneer but now an elder statesman, White is still showing young pretenders a clean set of Cuban heels ★★★★", while I say: "I listened to this album this morning, the day after a friend of mine won a bottle of tequila at The Yacht Club Bar, and it soothed me, and was nice, and made me feel better, and everything...★★★". You see? I could easily be a music journalist *carefully gets bow and adds another string*, although you could always listen to some of his music here if you feel - quite unreasonably - you need to make your own judgement.

Anyway - that's the culture box ticked for a few weeks; now I'm off to have some crisps...

Ruddigore at The Lowry - Ruddy Good, Ruddy Hell (Sorry)

Sometimes, there's just no option but to put your hand up and admit to having a glaringingly wide gap in your cultural knowledge. I have many such holes in my repertoire; I have never, for example, seen The Sound of Music all the way through (a record which Mr Liz is doing his best to ensure I maintain), and I managed to get through the whole of the nineties without once being exposed to a single episode of Cold Feet, Northern Exposure or Frasier.

Nor had I ever - until last night - had anything whatsoever to do with Gilbert and Sullivan. I had some general ideas, of course, involving vague notions of two avuncular English gentlemen, beloved of old ladies and amateur operatic associations the length and breadth of Britain, and in my head confusingly combined with an image of Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer in waistcoats and top hats.

So when the always-reliable Opera North announced they were bringing Ruddigore - one of G & S's least known operettas - back to The Lowry in Salford after a triumphant run in 2010, it seemed churlish not to take the chance to go and have a look. Even Mr Liz was enthusiastic at the prospect, no doubt due in no small part to the question Opera North are posing with this year's production - "Are the old jokes still the best?" As Mr Liz grew up in the age of Benny Hill and Les Dawson, and appears himself not to possess a single joke more recent than 1978, this was always going to be right up his street.

Nor did it disappoint. Ruddigore - or The Witch's Curse - is billed as "a comic opera in two acts", and was first performed in 1887, the era of some of Mr Liz's very best jokes. It wasn't a complete success at the time, as the audiences who had been so thrilled by the novelty of G & S's previous work, The Mikado, now found themselves watching a comic slice of social satire, parodying the melodramas so beloved of the Victorians, complete with ghosts, a mad woman, and a properly old-school, be-caped villain. Naturally, such sophisticated, complex humour is perfect for someone who is SO high-brow they have a video of a bear dancing round a tree saved on their laptop to watch whenever a quick pick-me-up is needed.

*has a quick watch of bear dancing round tree. Laughs, a LOT*

The opera follows the complicated love life of Rose Maybud, the darling of the town, who checks her every move in her book of etiquette and is secretly in love with Robin Oakapple, a humble local farmer. They sing a lovely duet together and everything looks most promising - except for one, minor, inconvenience. Robin is not Robin at all, but is actually Ruthven Murgatroyd - yes, I too would change my name - the Baron of Ruddigore who seemingly died ten years ago. Turns out Robin has lain low for all this time not merely to avoid having a name like Ruthven Murgatroyd, but instead to avoid the curse of Ruddigore, whereby the current Baronet is forced by his ancestors to commit a daily crime.

Rose is on the brink of marrying Robin when his younger brother Despard, the current Baronet, bursts in to the church after a tip-off from a jilted sailor who Rose has passed over in favour of lovely farmer Oakwood. But wait! Despard is removing his villain's top hat and cape, and passing them over to the rightful Baronet, a simple farmer no longer. And all this is just the first act - definitely time for a glass of wine and a regroup.

The second act is even better. Opera North are always ambitious with their staging, and the scene where all the dead Baronets come to life and emerge from their portraits is worth the ticket price all on its own. As they glow into being and return to the physical world, it becomes clear that it's going to take a pretty ludicrous plotline to save Robin/Ruthven from the slow, painful death that accompanies the breaking of the curse; I shan't spoil it for you...and frankly it's so barking it would take too long to explain.

Overall, I can summarise thus:

1. Opera North are brilliant, consistently proving that opera doesn't have to be stuffy and boring.

2. I too would like to be followed around by a chorus in the guise of a troop of "professional bridesmaids", always on the hopeful lookout for a spot of romance that might lead to matrimony, and ever ready with a jaunty song, skip and handful of confetti to throw if a marriage looks likely. I will pay for this if necessary.

3. There are some seriously good voices in this cast - we particularly liked Grant Doyle as goodie/baddie Robin/Ruthven, and Steven Page as the ten-years-dead Sir Roderic Murgatroyd.

4. Conductor Timothy Henty is young, and talented, and brilliant - he has a genuine enthusiasm for this opera that is infectious, and NO-ONE can resist a conductor who is visibly enjoying himself throughout the performance.

5. We did NOT like the character of Mad Margaret, Despard's old love, driven crazy by his treatment of her. Yes, I know it's satire, but we thought the part completely over-acted and all a bit uncomfortable. Everybody else seemed to love her though.

6. We enjoyed the music, despite having been warned that G & S are a bit like Marmite (presumably in terms of being something you love or hate, as opposed to them being excellent on toast as a late-night snack). Mr Liz was delighted that the songs were memorable enough for me to serenade him all the way home with a selection of show tunes.

7. Gilbert and Sullivan are indeed beloved by old people, of whom there were approximately nine million in the toilet queue at any given time.

8. And finally? Yes, the old jokes are still the best. I'll take a twirly-moustached villain with a cane and a bunch of dead men running round dancing with skeletons over high-brow entertainment ANY day of the week.

There's another chance to see Ruddigore at The Lowry this Thursday - see the Opera North or Lowry websites for details, and then go and practise your best mwah-ha-ha laugh - you'll need it.

Theatre Review: We Are Three Sisters at The Lowry, Salford

As previously noted, I have a weakness for booking theatre tickets during the week, when I am too tired to do anything other than slump languidly in my seat, waiting for it to be over. And obviously, having noted such a weakness, I have learnt a valuable lesson from my own life-mistakes and made sure not to do it again. Well, apart from last night that is, when I attended the opening night of We Are Three Sisters at The Lowry, entirely unavoidably, for the following very good reasons:

- We Are Three Sisters is a new play about the Bronte sisters, two of whom have written books that I am either currently teaching or have taught in the past. Therefore, the evening counts as research for work, and not as a night out, in any way.

- The play has been written by Blake Morrison, an author I admire. He is from Yorkshire, but this cannot technically be held against him on this occasion, as the play is about ladies who are, after all, from Yorkshire.

- The play is a Northern Broadsides production, and they are always excellent (despite, again, hailing from across the Pennines); their 2010 production of The Canterbury Tales (also at The Lowry) was splendid, and no doubt had many a hopeful man enquiring whether they too might swive in trees and stick their backsides through windows.

- The Lowry is a great venue, with a proven track record for booking interesting productions. And on a less artistic note, we always get to eat at Lime beforehand, where Mr Liz spends a good three minutes pretending to study the menu before deciding - again - that he simply cannot resist the Bookmaker's Sandwich; I truly live in fear of the day they decide to take it off the menu, anticipating tears, tantrums and truculence.

In short, we went along with high expectations; well, one of us did at least - Mr Liz enjoyed his Bookmaker's Sandwich, but was then saddened to find that the Man Utd game was just starting on the big screens in Lime as he was being dragged off to watch some "Bronte nonsense". In the end, we both enjoyed it, even the man who spent the first few minutes sniggering at there being a character called Tabby and asking whether this part would be played by a specially trained acting cat. (It wasn't).

The play opens with the three surviving Bronte sisters having already penned the novels that would become so famous - Anne and Emily have found a publisher, and Charlotte is on the hunt for one. Being women, of course, they have written under male pseudonyms, sure that their work would not be taken seriously if anyone were to find out the authors' true identities. Meanwhile, brother Branwell - not without talent himself - is busy drinking, gambling, and carrying on with his married employer, the magnificently vulgar Mrs Robinson who, for me, was the star of the show; Becky Hindley deserves full credit for creating such an appallingly enticing character whilst wearing the most unpleasant dress yet seen on these shores.

In fact, the acting is superb across the board. The three sisters are clearly drawn and played utterly as individuals rather than the amorphous mass of Bronte-ness they have come to represent for trepidatious literature students: Charlotte (Catherine Kinsella) is sensible and dowdy on the outside, but fiery and passionate on the inside; Emily (Sophia Di Martino) is morbid, and poetic, and solitary; Anne, the baby of the family, is played by Rebecca Hutchinson as desperate to work and experience new things, finding the quiet life at Haworth more than a little limited.

Not that they don't have a stream of male admirers beating a hopeful path to their door, including an incompetent doctor who hits the bottle when it becomes clear that Anne doesn't return his love, an idiotic school master determined to get the girls to work at his school, and a slimy curate who fancies his luck with anything in a skirt, using the same tired lines on whichever Bronte sister happens to be around at any given time. Amusement is also provided by Duggie Brown as Patrick, the father of the Bronte sisters, although some of this humour is unintentional as his supposedly Irish accent veers wildly from coast to coast during his performance (which is, nonetheless, extremely likeable).

In fact, I only have one quibble (well two, if you count taking along a husband intent on making cat jokes): twenty to eleven is really much too late for a play to finish on a school night. I certainly won't, ahem, be making that mistake again.

- We Are Three Sisters by Blake Morrison is on at The Lowry until Saturday 24th October, with tickets priced from just £16 - full details and booking on The Lowry website.

Girl Talk: I am Woman at The Lowry, Salford

Life can really be most humbling.

Take cooking, for example. I like to cook (and eat, but I feel most readers will already know that); indeed, I am really quite good at it. A few years ago, I even toyed casually with the idea of applying to go on Masterchef, where I would rustle up a few of my crowd-pleasing dinner party favourites, get approval from Greg although some sneery comments from John about the rustic appearance of my food, and perhaps get an honourable quarter-final place before being sent packing, holding my head high.

That was, of course, before Masterchef got slick, professional, uber-competitive and - frankly - terrifying. Now, I would be as likely to enter Masterchef as I would be to abseil naked from the top of the Eiffel Tower, so certain a humiliation would I face for my incomprehensible inability to whip up a brandy basket in thirty seconds flat.

Singing is a similar minefield. The proliferation of reality TV shows - which are inevitably starting to discover that Britain is apparently not a bottomless pit of talent - can easily encourage one to believe that a half-decent singing voice is theirs. As someone who has received many standing ovations for her heartfelt performance of Hey Big Spender aloft a table in Crazy Wendy's Thai Karaoke Restaurant, AND who holds a record SingStar score of 9990 for Papa Don't Preach (although those missing ten marks are starting to rankle now - where ARE they?), I had begun to form a favourable opinion of my talents that allowed me to sneer with impunity at those hopeless wannabes prostrating themselves at La Cowell's immaculate feet.

That's why last night was so humbling. I wrote about Girl Talk a couple of weeks ago, a three-woman-show at The Lowry in Salford, exploring through song various aspects of being female (I didn't tell Mr Liz this or he'd never have gone - I just told him it was nice ladies singing, and that he'd get dinner and beer at Lime first.) And very nice ladies they were too, with quite ridiculously, ludicrously, horrifically good voices. Suddenly, the oh-so-clever-and-lovely drunken harmonies performed by myself and my similarly-voiced best friend at Christmas parties looked - sadly - like the efforts of out-and-out amateurs; these were three voices that complimented each other to perfection.

The first voice belonged to Mari Wilson, upon whom I now have a slight girl crush - I definitely want to be her when I grow up. The second belonged to Gwyneth Herbert, the youngest of the three, who has the kind of smoky, deep, cocktail-bar voice that makes you fall a tiny bit in love with her as well. The third, Barb Jungr, got the loudest applause of the night for her solo version of Babs' Woman In Love, but should probably know that the length of her dress was prompting considerable discussion in the ladies' toilet during the interval (something that struck me a little out of keeping with the pro-woman spirit of the event, but that's women for you.)

There is banter between the songs, and excellent accompaniment on the piano (and tambourine - let us not overlook his versatility) from Adrian York, but this was all about the singing. Oh, and some extremely impressive balance in the face of some very high heels. The show (and its shoes) is still touring - do go along if you get the chance - full details are on the Girl Talk website. Me, I'm off to practise some more, lest my hopes are fulfilled and the art of perching on a bar stool, singing songs about men and having lovely bouffy hair, becomes the Olympic sport it so richly deserves to be.