The Observer from London, Greater London, England • 47

SUNDAY 17 JANUARY THE OBSERVER. ARTS 347 Theatre Michael Coveney A double image in the deep i to reject the tender, but inadequate, loyalty of a devoted husband. Nicholas Jones rescues Sir William from traditional sleekness, so that the scenes with his wife become exploratory and freshly moving. Rattigan's uncensoriousness as a dramatist has never been better demonstrated. The quality is equally apparent in the serene performance of Wojtek Pszoniak (Wajda's Robespierre) as the alien (and alienated) Mr Miller, the struck-off doctor and bookie's clerk who is the persuasive agent of Hester's salvation.

Like Hester, Miller is poignantly displaced from his cultural environment, though his sexual stigmata are more concealed. Freddie alone refuses to be trapped by emotional commitment or social decorum, and it says much for the production that he seems as tragic and wasted a figure as does Hester. Linus Roache could not be more different from Kenneth More: restless, feral, self-destructive. He makes Freddie not only a believable source of Hester's passion and despair, but also a pathetic remnant of the clubroom hinterland that spawned him. Reisz's meticulous period production, which uses an open, into-your-laps design by William Dudley and covering music from the wireless (Hester is discovered in her semiconscious state to the strains of 'People Will Say We're in Love' from breathes a world of class-ridden guilt and sad recovery that still underpins our national psyche.

In Rattigan, characters gripped by the vice anglais (emotional constipation) cannot express what they feel. In Mari-vaux, they can do little else. 'Now I see how my heart works', exclaims Silvia, as if catching up with her own palpitations, in The Game of Love and Chance (1730), intrigu-ingly re-launched as a spoof 1930s comedy of manners by Mike Alfreds's Cambridge Theatre Company and Neil Bart-lett's Gloria in the RNT's Cot-tesloe. The RNT did an unaired studio version in 1984, translated by John Fowles to the Regency world of Jane Austen. At least the concept of an arranged marriage would have made sense.

Once that anachronism is overlooked in Neil Bartlett's sporty text, the idea of two lovers separately adopting servile disguise in order to spy on the suitability of an opposite number, the farcical, if not the psychological, mechanics work very well. Maggie Steed's Silvia is deliberately presented as an 'older woman', whose awakening to passion by Peter Wingfield's muscular, supposed chauffeur Birmingham ('Bourguignon' in Marivaux) is a cue for trembling desperation. The exclamatory elements of this lovely play have often been ironically sifted from the romantic essence; I once saw a Parisian production in which a raised platform was reserved for the amorous histrionics while the decidedly Sadean nitty-gritty was conducted among a flock of real sheep in a meadow glistening through a spectacular sheet of rain. There were no holds baa-baa-ed. Here is no summeriness, and the distancing is achieved more scrappily in the over-worn WITH Vivian Ellis at the King's Head, John Whiting at the Orange Tree, Terence Rat-tigan at the Almeida and Marguerite Duras (next week) at Hampstead, you could be forgiven for wondering what on earth is happening on the London fringe.

Any day now I confidently expect to see an Ivor Novello retrospective announced by the ICA and a season of Somerset Maugham at the Old Red Lion. To be fair, Rattigan's The Deep Blue Sea (1952) offers one of the best roles for an actress this century. Could Penelope Wilton pull it off as Hester Collyer, the suicidal clergyman's daughter who has left Eaton Square for Ladbroke Grove, and her High Court judge husband for Freddie Page, the heavy-drinking Battle of Britain hero? She could. Some feel that Rattigan betrayed his heroine by saddling her with a will to live in the third act; Ivor Brown said that she needed a good slap and a chat with a marriage counsellor. But Wilton presents a woman moving from arid respectability through an emotional storm to spiritual self-knowledge.

On her knees with a tin of Cherry Blossom, she snatches back Freddie's shoes when he announces his departure to South America and clings tearfully to his coat as she packs his trunk. Her obsession with his effects is a rite of passage. For this Hester will do more than attend art classes. Her baffled dignity is superbly conveyed by an actress whose big, dark eyes and quietly gathered shoulders speak volumes under pressure. In the past 10 years, Dorothy Tutin and Penelope Keith, both directed by Alan Strachan, have found new notes in the role: Tutin harbouring her memory of physical ecstasy with frightened tenacity, Keith pulling herself together in grim triumph after a silly aberration.

No disrespect to either of them, but Wilton steals the palm. Amazingly, she projects an image of the woman she was through the woman she has become. Having been knocked sideways by sex, she has learned to resent the trite pieties of the well-meaning neighbour (William Osborne) who plays down the physical side of life, and also conventions of a theatrical fit-up: Paul Dart's grey-green interior opens like a book, actors retreat to make-up desks, and Stefan Bednarczyk as Silvia's brother leers at the audience from a grand piano where he knocks out a campy accompaniment while dropping sub-Cowardian aphorisms ('Funny how eloquent cheap music can be'). Some of this is excruciating. But Maggie Steed is always worth watching, and the evening becomes much better than bearable whenever the servants (disguised as the aristos) take over: Marcello Magni, from Theatre de Complicite, is lech-erously athletic as the Arlec-chino, running away deliriously with the idea of Marivaux writing for his Italian comedians, while Caroline Quentin as the maid Lisette is raunchy, technically adroit and very funny.

Two flawed but distinctly promising new plays. Waiting at the Water's Edge (Bush) by Lucinda Coxon charts the friendship of two Harlech housemaids in 1923. Vi (Suz-anna Hamilton) masquerades as her dead master and becomes a strike-breaking capitalist in Nova Scotia while Su (Helen Anderson) looks after the master's stricken mother. The structure is over-schematic with good moments. The references to Brecht's Puntila and Good Woman are carefully absorbed in the atmospheric staging by Polly Teale.

Marching for Fausa (Theatre Upstairs) by the young Nigerian novelist Biyi Bandele documents the persecution of a dissident journalist (Susan Aderin) caught up in riots after the imprisonment of some protesting schoolchildren, one of whom (the unseen Fausa) has been taken by a Minister as a concubine. Not exactly a West African version of Annie Castledine's production is nonetheless strong and vivid. But the play is not really a play; there are hints of raw power but not enough concentration. It attempts too much too skimpily and reeks of an item in Index on Censorship, not the chaos in Laos. Simon Russell Beale's hilarious RSC Richard HI, directed by Sam Mendes, now at the new Donmar Warehouse in Covent Garden, is not to be missed.

Penelope Wilton and Linus Roache as Hester and Freddie in Terence Rattigan's 'The Deep Blue Sea'. Photograph by Neil Libbert. Marcello Magni and Caroline Quentin.Photograpk: SueAdler. Art William Feaver A World of Music to start the New Year All comes out in the wash Sunday 28 March at 7.30 European Community Youth Orchestra Claudio Abbado (conductor) Mark Wigglesworth (conductor) Yevgeny Kissin (piano) Beethoven Piano Concerto No 5 'Emperor' Shostakovich Symphony No 1 0 Monday 12 April at 7.30 New York Philharmonic Orchestra Kurt Masur (conductor) Brahms Symphony No 2 Mozart Sinfonia Concertante K364 Strauss Till Eulenspiegel Tuesday 13 April at 7.30 New York Philharmonic Orchestra Kurt Masur (conductor) Barber Adagio for Strings Bright Sheng H'un (Lacerations): In Memoriam 1966-76 Dvorak Symphony No 9 'New World' Sunday 24 January at 7.30 Prague Symphony Orchestra Martin Turnovsky (conductor) Raphael Oleg (violin) Magdelena Hajossyova (soprano) Marta Behackova (alto) Kaludi Kaludov (tenor) Peter Mikulas (bass) London Symphony Chorus Brahms Violin Concerto Janacek Glagolitic Mass Friday 5 March at 8.00 Vienna Symphony Orchestra Rafael Friihbeck de Burgos (conductor) Margareta Hintermeier (mezzo-soprano) London Symphony Chorus Southend Boys Choir Mahler Symphony No 3 Wednesday 24 March at 7.30 San Francisco Symphony Herbert Blomstedt (conductor) William Bennett (oboe) Harbison Oboe Concerto Bruckner Symphony No 4 'Romantic' nient than oils, easier to use, less messy. In the period up to 1880, drawing instructors far outnumbered piano teachers.

It was the amateurs' way into art. Hence the profusion of rules and hints and step-by-step manuals. Watercolours were collectable. They had their specialist connoisseurs. As Ruskin said, they were 'the cheerfullest possible decorations for a moderate-size breakfast parlour opening on a nicely-mown lawn'.

The RA is nicely hung with more than 300 examples. Landscapes composed on conventional lines, in summertime, predominate. 'Ideas of rocks, and mountains and lakes always crowd into my boasted the Rev William Gilpin, the Enid Blyton of the Picturesque. He and his successors established guidelines for placing shepherds in foregrounds, for giving mountains distant tints, for tackling ruins effectively. Alexander Cozens ('Blotmaster to the Town') set out his New Method, akin to the pitted and puddled rock formations in Chinese watercolours.

Cornelius Varley had a system for getting sorted: 'sea-tint, sky-tint, middleground and foreground tint'. Wilton and Lyles have sorted their selection into categories involving varying degrees of finish. Tight 'Topography' is distinguished from 'The Romantic Landscape' (more freethinking) and the upper reaches of 'Light and Atmosphere', Turner to Whistler. They end with 'The Exhibition Watercolour': showy pieces dense enough to be passed off in a dim light as virtual oil paintings. Turner presides.

He begins as the antiquarians' topographer and then enlarges his vision. Pleasing incongruities light up historical perspectives. Pigs are seen in the chancel of Ewenny Priory and a hen coop sits next IN 1773 Sir Joseph Banks, leading light of the Society of Dilettanti and lately returned from Cook's voyage to New Zealand, went on a trip to Wales. He knew a good prospect when he saw one. The smoke from the copper works on the far side of the Neath estuary would make a singularly pleasing subject, he indicated.

His companion, Paul Sandby the topographic draughtsman, set to work but unfortunately the tide was quicker than him. Which is why the finished drawing is so unclear as to what a tidal surge actually looks like. The three little figures of the artist, the distinguished amateur, and the manservant carrying the umbrella, making a dash for it in 'Rising Tide at Briton Ferry', are unusual in The Great Age of British Water-colours 1750-1880 (Royal Academy to 12 April). There's plenty of worked-up weather to be seen; a naval bottle party takes place near Plymouth (one of Turner's lively foreground arrangements); and there are wrecks where appropriate. But the only other dramatic moment, in human terms, in the entire exhibition is when John Martin does Pharaoh, and his army is overtaken by the supernaturally tidal waters of the Red'Sea.

The selectors, Andrew Wilton and Anne Lyles of the Tate, have played down the fitful or charismatic aspects of water-colour. Few Blakes, no Dadd. They have included only one Rowlandson (admittedly a marvellous one: London Society posing and tumbling on the frozen Serpentine) and even that won't be shown when the exhibition goes to the National Gallery, Washington. Like Joseph Banks, they favour the circumspect. Ruskin, another keen amateur, recommended the art of watercolour as being 'so healthy and pleasurable'.

More conve Jfotwaw LpriC 993 GUANO TltH 35 to the neglected effigy of some Crusader. Flash technique from Richard Bonington and James Holland fails to rival Turner's extravagant abandonment of the rules, his scratching and chivvying of the wetted paper. Edward Lear clocking the pyramids, treating them as designer objects, is trite compared to Turner, who invested everywhere, real or imagined, with energetic relationships. On the factual side there's a wall of trees, by assorted hands, another of dockleaves and of skies. Constable's are best.

Ruskin, fussing away, corners a strand of ivy on a rock and shows four stages of development to completion: blank, tinted, veins filled out, highlights added. Thomas Girtin, Turner's one-time rival, secures facts with cool (perhaps camera-ob-scura-assisted) precision. For his 'Eidometropolis' panorama he drew the Albion Mills gutted, people pencilled in, Westminster behind and the green hills of Hampstead. 'Light and Atmosphere' has Turner sunset dissolves and Constable's 'Old Sarum', saturated with weather, then Whistler enclosing smudgy grey sails in a gilt Whistlerian frame four times the size of the work itself. Well-wrought ripples by Hol-man Hunt are the only counter to Whistler at this late stage.

In the dark, crimson gallery of 'The Exhibition Watercolour', technique is all. William Hunt's birds' nests are more detailed than even Ruskin specified. J. F. Lewis gives the mid-Victorian public a good look at the fittings of genteel harems.

Thomas Heaphy's 'Fish Market, Hastings' has bland folk discussing The huge, musty, corked Claude is by George Barret Junior: 'Solitude: An Italianate Landscape' Turner, not surprisingly, does the finest Exhibition Watercolour. Goats pose at the Reichenbach Falls where, a century later, Holmes and Mor-iarty were to settle matters once and for all. A natural finale of water smiting rock and descending into a tangle of smashed trees. Cotman is the other watercolour genius. His Croyland Abbey has clouds swelling nobly from the silhouetted tower and exposed arches.

'Greta Bridge' brings resonance to the placid river: nature and art mutually reflected. Cotman's ploughman standing in the centre of his handiwork as though waiting to be interviewed by Cobbett is the most memorable figure of the age in watercolour. Trees boit behind him, up far slopes to the skyline. Licks of shadow soolhe the two-tone furrows. The field, newly-sown, is staked out with four dead crows.

Choose all 6 concerts save 25 Group 6 24 January Prague 5 March Vienna 24 March San Francisco 28 March ECYO 12 April New York 13 April New York Group 4 24 January Prague 5 March Vienna 24 March San Francisco 12 or 13 April New York Choose 5 concerts save 15 Group 5 24 January Prague 5 March Vienna 24 March San Francisco 28 March ECYO 12 or 13 April New York A Choose the group of concerts you wish to book eg Group 1 Choose your seating area from the Royal Festival Hall seating plan eg Stalls 'b' or Terrace 'f Check the special subscription price for your chosen group of concerts and your chosen seating area. Either complete the application form and send it together with your credit card details or cheque and a first class stamped addressed envelope to Choose 3 or 4 concerts save 10 Group 1 24 January Prague 28 March ECYO 12 or 13 April New York Group 2 5 March Vienna 24 March San Francisco 12 or 13 April New York Group 3 24 January Prague 5 March Vienna 28 March ECYO 1 2 or 1 3 April New York The Observer Offer, London International Orchestral Season, Box Office, Royal Festival Hall, London SE1 8XX or telephone your booking to the Royal Festival Box Office on 071 928 8800 The Box Office is open daily 10am to 9pm and will be happy to deal with any enquiries you might have. I Jk -u I I I I I I Preferred dale for New York Philharmonic concert 12AptllLJ 13 April LJ Area of seating Please provide an alternative if possible Subscription price Please provide an alternative if possible kor You Full pay price jmna You Full pay price Total price No of subscriptions I I enclose a crossed cheque made payable to The South Bank Centre for If giving alternatives please enclose a signed open cheque with an upper limit. I wish to pay by credit card: Visa CD AccessD American ExpressQ Diners ClubD I I My credit card number is: Price Codes des eft bghlpvu You Full You Full You Full pay price pay price pay price 3 concert subscription saves 1 0 Group 1 94.50 105.00 72.90 81.00 50.40 56.00 Group 2 90.00 100.00 68.40 76.00 48.60 54.00 4 concert subscription saves 10 Group 3 121.50 135.00 93.60 104.00 65.70 73.00 Group 4 112.50 125.00 87.30 97.00 63.00 70.00 5 concert subscription saves 15 Group 5 140.25 165.00 107.95 127.00 76.50 90.00 6 concert subscription saves 25 Group6 153.75 205.00 117.75 157.00 82.50 110.0 Please note Seatinn area a. behind the otchestta, Is not available tot the Plague Orchestras concerts on January 24 and March 5 respectively.

I Expiry I date 32.40 36.00 19.80 22.00 32.85 36.50 19.80 22.00 43.20 48.00 26.10 29.00 42.75 47.50 25.20 28.00 51.00 60.00 30.60 36.00 54.38 72.50 33.00 44.00 Symphony and Vienna Symphony 1 I Date I Signature 1 I I Title Initials I I Surname! I Address I Postcode! I I I 'I 111-. )t Hi hi I The London International Orchestral Season is presented by HarrisonParrotl Ltd. Harold Holt Ud, Ingpen Williams Ltd, Intermusica Artists' Management, Konzertdirektion Hans Ulrich Schmid, Van Walsum Management Ltd and The South Bank Centre. Series co-ordination and developement by Van Walsum Management Ltd. 1 Telephone (day) I I (eve) I I Return this form together with an SAE and payment.

Tickets will be allocated on a strictly I iirsi come iirsi served oasis, so oe sure to get your application in eany. a mm Clauds sifi'lling nobly: Detail from Cotman's iroyland Abbey'..