There has always been an artistic undercurrent in John Hegley's work and here he has made it a literal one. The Sound of Paint Drying takes its cue from a picture of a Nice street by the poet's father. The bespectacled bard's entertaining evening tells how he recently followed in paternal brushstrokes by committing the same French location to canvas.
Much in the way that little had changed about that view over the years, a bar perpetually dishing out cafe au lait, so little has changed about John Hegley.
For nearly two decades he has been serving the same blend of endearing lyricism, bonded together by bittersweet comic grouting. His glasses might now be Hoxton-trendy but the suit could still easily be Oxfam.
The only significant development is the sidelining of his penchant for dog doggerel. The emphasis has shifted towards melancholic nostalgia, particularly for his Luton childhood. One plaintive verse recalls a playground crush. Hegley was too shy to declare it so he kicked the girl in the shins and she went off with someone else.
Despite his reflections on unrequited love, however, the tone remains light bordering on the flyaway. Darting around, Hegley keeps listeners on their toes with contrapuntal rhythms and evocative comical wordplay. One should not read too much sanctimonious significance into his breathless theological rap, MCJC, "If that was Good Friday I wouldn't want a bad one". This is a piquant bouillabaisse of a show, including musical accompaniment from Keith Moore and a competition to pen the best ditty about a table. The climax is Hegley performing a French piece, Poem (sic) De Terre, while poking his head through a Magritte-shaped hole in the aforementioned picture. Visually and verbally inventive, a true renaissance troubadour.
John Hegley is appearing at the BAC, SW11, on 4, 6-8, 11, 13-15 February. Box office: 020 7223 2223.
John Hegley
