Once upon a time, long before Wicked became a musical and two movie blockbusters, its composer and lyricist Stephen Schwartz wrote this eccentric picaresque about the restless son of the Holy Roman emperor Charlemagne. Schwartz was 24 when it became a Broadway hit in 1972 but many of the evergreen lyrics reveal an old soul. “Cats fit on the window sill, children fit in the snow,” observes its eponymous hero. “So why do I feel I don’t fit in anywhere I go?”
Pippin’s framing as a musical erected by a band of travelling players fits this fringe venue well. The stage is sparsely decorated and the arriving performers offer a ramshackle narrative conjured from – and constantly on the verge of vanishing into – thin air, thanks to tricks from magic consultant Martin T Hart in a production directed and choreographed by Amanda Noar.
