I’m just a little bit in love with Rosie Langabeer. From the first time that I saw her onstage in lab coat and protective glasses, playing the musical saw to the accompaniment of an electric drill, I knew she was the girl for me.

In comparison, tonight in the Spiegeltent, she walks the line between Pierrot and Weimar-era music hall performer. With Rosie you never know what you’re going to get. The atmosphere is more suited to a group of friends around somebody’s kitchen table at 2am than a formal event as part of a prestigious arts festival, as is alluded to by her every sideways glance and offhand quip. She promises a collection of musical treasures that run the gamut from sanguine to melancholy, and she delivers by the bucket load.

Whether she’s covering Tom Waits or Tom Petty, reimagining Dent May or Sia, she makes the stage and the music her own. Self-confessed guilty pleasures are subverted by a change in pace and key that forces the audience to confront the passive aggressive nature of familiar lyrics that we would otherwise chant mindlessly into the abyss. There’s a wicked glint in her eye as she holds up a mirror to the best and worst of us with a nameless (no spoilers!) ‘European’ song that quickly reveals itself to be a rendition of Swedish 80s rock band, Europe’s The Final Countdown, delivered in what I can only deduce by process of elimination to be Esperanto.

Further thrills are elicited by the emergence, halfway through the set, of darling of the local music scene, Anton Wuts. Attired in dazzling white, as though ‘dressed by his autistic pet cockatoo’, with gleaming sax in one hand and a robust glass of red in the other, he firmly puts the bomp in the bomp bomp bomp. Fuelled by the power of rhythmic onomatopoeia, he communes with Rosie’s accordion and Neil Watson’s guitar, building to a musically dense crescendo, punctuated by giggles at the absurdity of it all. It’s a joke to which we’re all party, made no clearer than in the encore, the half-century-old classic Batman, with Rosie’s imaginings substituting variously ‘tentman’, ‘earringsman’, and ‘womanman’, among others. Adored by her audience, Rosie Langabeer is a force to be reckoned with, funny, fierce and fearless.



Review by John Fenton, – jazz blog. April 2016

“Rosie Langabeer can play outside one minute and the next you hear a deep subtle swing, a rare kind of pulse that you can feel in your bones. A gifted composer and leader in her own right, an extraordinary side-women when required. Moving from percussive, richly dissonant voicings to heart-stopping arpeggiated runs…Her iconoclastic playing delighted the audience.”


TWELFTH-superJumboNew York Times Review: Twelfth Night or What You Will by Pig Iron Theatre Company. By

“…the whole production is pretty dazzling. The musicians — trombone, violin, accordion, tuba and more are in the instrument mix — play the audience into the theater and set a festive tone that somehow also bends time. The performance pushes three hours but seems half that long as the gung-ho actors and resourceful band serve up a string of surprises. Compared with the Mark Rylance Broadway production of the same play that just closed over the weekend, think of this as the poor man’s “Twelfth Night,” not just in ticket price but also in look and attitude. Pig Iron goes for slapdash — expertly planned and executed slapdash — and hits the mark.”

Nothing But Madman (Toby’s Tango) – from Twelfth Night by Pig Iron Theatre Company.

Twelfth Night, Pig Iron Theatre Company
New York Theater Review, 2014

“the show is buoyed along by a manic undercurrent even in its sharpest, most exquisitely clear-eyed moments, of which there are many. Like composer Rosie Langabeer’s music, its highs spin wildly and its lows are mournful and bottomless.”

The Food Of Love – from Twelfth Night by Pig Iron Theatre Company.

Zachary Stewart • New York City • Feb 7, 2014

Pig Iron honors the location of historical Illyria (present-day Croatia) with a Balkan brass band that greets us as we enter the theater, and sticks around for the show. From the frenetic blasts of the trumpet to the haunting groan of the accordion, this irresistible music underscores much of the proceedings, further enriching the mood of the play. It’s also really fun music to drink by, as evidenced by the raucous wedding scene that leaves most of the band members passed out on the floor. (You should try the coconut stout in the lobby, by the way.)



New York Times Article: The Choreographer Matthew Neenan of BalletX Nears the Stratosphere. 

“Ms. Langabeer’s contribution is crucial to the work’s evocation of period, place and dream. She and three other musicians play onstage, sometimes on eccentric electronic instruments invented by Neil Feather. It all supports Mr. Neenan’s choreographic fantasy: dancers as plane parts and passengers, crewmen and islanders, birds and letter writers, the missing and those who miss them.”

Karangahape Cowboy – from Sunset, o639 Hours


 New York Times Review: ‘Sunset, o639 Hours’ by BalletX at the Joyce Theater. 

“Mr. Neenan and Ms. Langabeer shrewdly integrate the 10 dancers with a band of four multi-instrumentalists. The music ranges from ’30s swing for a New Year’s Eve scene in Auckland (“This one goes out to the Captain,” Ms. Langabeer croons) to a woozy soundscape during an Act II layover in Pago Pago. Letters, read aloud, thread through the score, a reminder of the Captain’s cargo. The stage bristles with the energy of a busy transit hub, and Maiko Matsushima’s décor — four warped, suspended panels ascending on a diagonal — suggest both a steady takeoff and scattered debris.”

I Was A Diamond – from Sunset, o639 Hours