By: Rosie Sharman-Ward
What would you do if you if you had an hour left to live?
A question which for most of us creates big panicky thoughts. For James Rowland it seems that giving us insights to his very varied thoughts about being human and humanity in general (very mixed review, to be honest) and sharing his favourite story is the answer…
To my delight James Rowland, master wordsmith and troubadour, returns to The Drum with the final part of his Songs from the Heart trilogy. Entitled James Rowland Dies at the End of the Show, it completes the cradle to grave theme shining a spotlight on final hours or indeed the final hour in this case. It is utterly wonderful!
As the audience filter in we are serenaded from offstage by James singing and playing the piano. He pops in for a chat about REM then returns for another song before realising it is showtime. A simple set comprising a large step ladder on which sits a large digital clock, set ominously at 60:00. On the floor, centre stage, is a pile of dogeared, well-used sheets of paper reminiscent of musings and calculations found in an ancient alchemist’s laboratory, how appropriate for a performer who can spin words into gold.
James returns to the stage dressed in a hospital gown, yes, one of those, and sporting theatre socks (medical not thespian) and red Crocs. He chats happily to us as he finishes his cuppa, joking about the reviewers present and thanking us all for turning up. As he turns to put his mug away, those of us in the front row are relieved to see he is also wearing boxers.
After delaying his demise for an extra ten minutes or so, during which he has made a whole audience of friends, James begins and the countdown starts. The well-thumbed papers containing precious thoughts are prompts for a stream of consciousness on the things about living he loves: waterfalls, his life partner, bird watching, his cat, actual books, the ingenuity of science, love, and the story of Robin Hood. Images fashioned out of emotive language hang in the air, touching, beautiful, ridiculous and clever. As we travel to The End with him, we are flung far into the depths of space, hanging out in his flat and sitting next to his seven-year-old self in his family car. Laughing at cringe worthy puns one minute, providing the sound effects of the crowd in The Tale of Robin Hood the next (I may never view Patrick Stewart the same way again). Contemplating death has never been so profound or hilarious. The clock ticking down in the background adds to the intensity of the show’s content. Despite this we are smiling as we follow this man along the path as he expresses sadness at humanity’s atrocities but points out there is always beauty and intelligence to give us hope.
Rowland explains that he prefers to possess books rather than read e readers or use a library (they like to have their books back!) because if things are not present you start to forget. I remembered clearly how much I love James Rowland’s work; I have been reminded just how spellbinding his ability to weave words is. Happy to binge watch the trilogy boxset anytime James.