We have had some excellent reviews for the first two performances of Vivienne (read a comprehensive digest of published feedback via Storify):

★★★★★ from the Evening Standard

McNeff delivers an unpredictable yet instantly appealing score. The story unwraps in songs that always hint at popular idiom — crunchy bebop infuses her late-Forties mourning, Berlin-style cabaret hints at Eliot’s possible Fascist sympathies — but their structure is elastic and mutable. You enjoy the tune but never quite catch it.

Andy Rashleigh’s libretto is allusive and witty: an affair with Bertrand Russell unfolds with reference to Macavity the Mystery Cat. All is delivered by catty, horny McCaldin, all with a sheen of barmy. It’s a far better performance than we’re entitled to from someone who can also sing.

★★★★☆ from One Stop Arts

Andy Rashleigh’s text … is rather brilliantly realised: we get some very funny passages from Vivienne accusing T.S. Eliot of being too ‘clever’ with his Greek and Sanskrit references, and a fantastic account of her affair with the philosopher Bertrand Russell in the style of Eliot’s ‘Macavity: The Mystery Cat’.

Musically, too, Stephen McNeff’s score has much of the same pastiche and multi-voiced confusion of Eliot’s poetry. Pianist Libby Burgess accompanied McCaldin throughout, with threads of music hall tunes, jazz and Tin Pan Alley almost sneakily strung together in a score that is tuneful yet changeable enough to avoid predictability.

Clare McCaldin performed fantastically, perfectly channeling Vivienne’s fragile mental state. She conveys the desperation of a woman who was once seductive, charming and intelligent, but whose powers now fail her. Her voice was continually well-matched to the fickle moods of an insane woman, from melancholy moaning to belting out rude sailor songs.

It’s rare that a one-woman show can be so clever and funny without dragging towards the end – but Vivienne kept up its pace, and was a fitting elegy to the woman behind much of T.S. Eliot’s poetry.