It
can't be much fun when the supporting cast of a helium balloon and
a potato threaten to upstage you. Fortunately, Anna Zapparoli has
the presence and voice to overcome such competiton in this must-see
Brechtian cabaret. From the moment, her head peeping out of the curtain,
she bids us Willkommen, the Titian-haired mediterranean is magnificent,
a believable Brecht in braces and baggy trousers and an even more
real cabaret artist when, having debagged before us, she reveals an
alluring slitted dress, dons red high heels and gives Surabaya Johnny
fabulous grief. Space doesn't allow for full enlargement. Suffice
to say that wherever the narrative goes, Zapparoli takes you there,
accompanied by a splendidly apposite quartet and aided by her minor
amanuensis, the remarkably resourceful Beniamino Borciani. His releasing
of the balloon as Alabama Song's moon is a hoot only exceeded by his
tuber puppetry as Brecht/Zapparoli offers Nazi Germany the choice
between a house painter and a potato - a brilliant piece of miniature
mime in a show that is no small achievement.
Rob Adams, The Herald, 15 Aug 2001
The musical revue 1933 and All That evokes these songs and these times
in a deft compilation of '30s numbers which are performed by the always
compelling Anna Zapparoli whom we saw as a marvellous Molly Bloom
last year. Born in the UK but brought up in Italy, Miss Zapparoli
has that European talent that evokes her own world of magic and mystery.
… Borciani devised and orchestrated the show and his excellent
group of musicians produce the next best sound to a Klezmer band,
while their son, Beniamino (a small person aged nine) is already a
seasoned entertainer. A very good show indeed.
Michael Darell, What's On in London April 2002
Critics' Choice (Four Stars)
There is more to 1933 and All That than a bracket of the best from
Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill. Pianist and devisor Mario Borciani's
show is an intelligent retelling of the pair's transition from jobbing
lyricist and musician to the toast of Berlin. Borciani has Anna Zapparoli
in the lone spot, singing her heart out. (…) Zapparoli has an
ideal cabaret voice; big, expressive and textured, it might lack a
little up high, but is a real rafter-rattler down low, as evidenced
in Young Blood. And what an actor she is, finding worlds of expression
in the cock of an eyebrow, or the toss of a tangle of flaming locks
(…) Borciani keeps it simple: the chair, a hat, a coat, a valise
and, ingeniously, a balloon as the moon of Alabama. This leaves Zapparoli
to create worlds afresh.
The Scotsman 8 Aug 2001
Critical Guide - Our recommendations
Gripping evocation of the dark, politically disturbing world of Bertolt
Brecht. Anna Zapparoli doesn't just perform Brecht's songs; she inhabits
them. A show that genuinely takes you somewhere else.
The Herald, 6 Aug 2002
Top-notch… Zapparoli is a bruising singer, sympathetically backed
by a band led by her husband Mario Borciani on the piano, and sometimes
joined by their admirably nonsimpering son Beniamino Borciani.
Jane Edwardes, Time Out, 10 Apr 2002
Songs with a Sting from the Verge of the Abyss
Anger, nostalgia, impotence, irony; these and many others are the
themes of Il cabaret dei destini incrociati, which concluded the series
"Music and the Stage" as part of the Autunno musicale Festival
on Saturday at Como university. The recital was devoted to German
cabaret during the first half of the Twentieth century: German cabaret
of the times of the First World war, with its songs impregnated with
a cheerfully macabre delight in crime (Wedekind's I killed my Aunt
and Brecht's Jacob Apfelboeck), and the cabaret of America, where
the authors (Wedekind, Brecht, Weill, Hollaender), formerly active
in Munich and Berlin, unwillingly had to take refuge to avoid persecution
on the part of the Nazis. Actress-singer Anna Zapparoli decided to
break down the barrier separating the spectators from the artists
and got the audience to sing the refrain of the Poor Little Brat by
Wedekind-Borciani, bringing in a group of students from Milan, who
acted as prompters, actors and choristers in turn. Brilliant and ironical
in the first part, heartrending and passionate in the second, Zapparoli
always played her part "inside" the music and never "above"
it, thus achieving a perfect balance with her companions. The arrangements
by Mario Borciani (also performing on the piano) are elegant and intensely
expressive without ever distorting the original. These results are
obtained also thanks to the sensitive interpretation of Sandro Dandria
(double bass) and Luca Velotti (saxophones and clarinet), whose individual
style is unmistakable.
La Provincia 23 Dec 2000
German
music at the Polytechnic
- Light-hearted intellectual cabaret in the tradition of Bertolt Brecht
Long, well deserved applause from the vast audience
In the Great Hall of the Como Polytechnic Saturday was the last night
of the official series of concerts, strictly musical in content, announced
for the Festival Autunno Musicale 2000. The programme was a sort of
journey into German cabaret, with special reference to Munich and
Berlin: Munich the fatherland of a type of engagé cabaret,
sympathetic to the social issues and the political reality of its
time, Berlin renowned for producing work far less political in character,
pleasing for its light-heartedness, at times even comical. The event
was performed by a group of Italian artists who admirably demonstrated
a deep understanding of the German spirit of this genre.
First and foremost the warm, alluring, captivating and provocative
voice of Anna Zapparoli. Sharing the stage with her was the band led
by Mario Borciani, pianist, musical director and author of the orchestration:
the songs were by Schubert, Ebb, Wedekind, Eisler, Weill and Holllaender,
and the lyrics for the most part by Bertolt Brecht. Performing with
Borciani were Luca Velotti at the clarinet and saxophones and Sandro
Dandria at the double bass. The ensemble inspired an overwhelming
response, and the audience was carried away.
It was an attentive and enlighted audience, once in while numerous
and generous in giving the group long and richly deserved applause.
They even accepted to become involved in singing the refrain of a
song in the programme, "The Poor Brat" by Wedekind-Borciani.
And so this year the Autunno Musicale Festival, certainly one of the
best in recent years, closed more splendidly than anyone could have
possibly hoped.
Perhaps there was only one thing missing that evening: the German
language. Nearly all the songs were translated into Italian. I missed
the characteristc timbre of the German language which gives German
cabaret its distinctive colour; also because, in the majority of cases,
it is a special kind of German, slangy, the language of the streets.
So, paradoxically enough, the song that came nearest to this "dialect"
element was "Surabaja Johnny", presented in an unusual translation
into Milanese dialect.
Corriere della Sera, 23 Oct 2000
