Israphel’s Book – Markee de Saw and Bert Finkle @ Voodoo Rooms, Speakeasy
There's a room; with books, a piano, a pianist waiting. A woman arrives. The show drifts into beginning the way a dream might. And in every dreamhome there's heartache.
There's no single way to describe de Saw and Finkle, so here's three.
A double act – a pianist and singer – waiting to go on stage. They don't like each other much but their partnership is all they've got. Under Finkle's beady uncomforting eye, de Saw reflects on a story of doomed love. Through readings and songs she collects the fragments: of ennui and violence, debauchery and love, death, showbusiness, fire -- and Christmas.
An Edwardian soul singer (got that?), who delivers a mesmerising and passionate performance where Lady Gaga becomes a contemporary of Schubert, and Weil mixes in with Propellerheads, Yazoo, The Decemberists and Felix Bernard (and many more than I'm capable of working out).
Or. A dream. De Saw's perhaps, where her obsessions reveal the hidden aspects of everything she sees or sings – where hammers and saws become musical instruments, and songs and lives become a mysterious meld of nationality and period, the familiar and unknown. The dream doesn't begin or end, and the lovers in their various guises repeat their story forever.
They're lingering at occasional venues at the Fringe. Catch them if you can.