He has perfectly mimicked just about everybody in the public eye, but could this be Alistair McGowan’s greatest impersonation yet? A concert pianist.
For the comedian has only been playing for just over four years, yet here is in the Royal Albert Hall – in the intimate Elgar Room rather than the main room, admittedly – playing a scarlet-red grand donated by Sir Elton John. This is an opportunity few players with decades more experience will ever get.
The draw, of course, is McGowan’s fame, and he uses his comedy for little skits between the numbers, which are – with one exception – played entirely straight. He is no Victor Borge, Gerard Hoffnung or Rainer Hersch, using humour to drill into classical music and prick its pompous image. Nor a Les Dawson deliberately misusing his talent.
Instead McGowan – fully looking the part in flowing coattails – treats the works with full reverence, billing the night as ‘two hours of pretty good music and pretty bad jokes’.
He makes no bones about his technical limitations, though, joking about his reluctance to play more ambitious pieces. That does mean the music is limited in scope to more sedentary, wistful and atmospheric tunes, rather than dramatic key-bangers. But for some variety he moves through the eras, from Bach to jazz, and up to the Amelie soundtrack.
The good-humoured impressionist suggests his lack of experience brings an air of jeopardy, but luckily for all – including his piano teacher, sat in the audience – he hits all the right notes, and in the right order, too. To judge whether he’s a great pianist needs probably requires ears more experienced than mine, but the playing seems pleasant and melodic, if a little dispassionate.
The only time he breaks the veneration of the composers’ work is during playing a piece by the eccentric Erik Satie, when he reads out the playing instructions, far more esoteric than ‘allegro’. ‘Behave yourself there’s a monkey watching you!’ is one. This is by far the best piece of the night as it’s the one time the music and the comedy are working in, erm, concert.
Otherwise his gags are unsubtly shoehorned In Between the pieces, hung on to an occasional snippet of biographical information.For example, the fact George Gershwin liked playing tennis is a way in to his Roger Federer impression – and a rather impressive piece of multilingual showboating.
Of course there are lots of newsreaders-turned-Classic FM presenters for him to get his teeth into, too, while off-piste, a Dara O Briain impression zings and he amusingly wonders how a modern-day Dad’s Army might play out – although the obligatory Brexit routine is tired, as are some of his puns.
But Introduction For Classical Piano is more squarely aimed at music fans who might want a bit o humour injected into their nights (‘why don’t stand-ups introduce the Proms,’ he laments) than it is a way to introduce comedy fans to a bit of high culture.
What he played…
Philip Glass: Metamorphosis Five
Grieg: Ariatta
Debussy: La Cathedral Engloutie
Bill Evans: Peace Piece
Bach: Prelude in C Major
Arvo Pärt: Für Alina
Satie: Gnossienne No 2 (with instructions)
Interval
Satie: Gnossienne No4
Chopin: Prelude In C-Sharp Minor
Grieg’s Nocturne
Gershwin: Prelude No 2
Yann Tiersen: Le Moulin
John Field: 1st Nocturne
Satie: Gymnopédies No1
Encore
Liszt’s Consolation No 3
