An impassioned exploration of past loves, longing, languish, and laughter. O’Sullivan’s vocal capabilities are surpassed only by her ability to draw out emotions, from mourning to laughter.Rating
Excellent!
Taking our seats, the partially lit stage draws the attention, strewn with all manner of belongings, from an oversized cat, to a poodle’s head, neon signage, and mannequins clad in diverse 70s/80s outfits… and a full-sized hula-hoop. Music, from the same decades, pumps loudly through the speakers, stirring memories, while nestled stage right are the keyboards brought to life by Feargal Murray.
Camille O’Sullivan descends from within the auditorium, a little late, seemingly fragile, but appreciative of her waiting audience. Together, O’Sullivan and Murray create a complex mix of scenarios, from folk clubs of village pubs to sultry cellar bars, by way of many a successful rock and roll number.
O’Sullivan is an old soul with a big heart. She shares her performance nerves, using wit and endearing gestures to draw sympathy and collaboration. Her raw emotion and sensitive exposure of memories and aspirations are both tender and warm. At times, her fragility is depicted through self-deprecating reflections of someone who came through lockdown, has known grief, and lost some composure before returning to the stage.
The first songs are compelling, yet timid, but the audience remained warm, urging her efforts, costume transitions, and frequent references to stars, including Shane MacGowan, Sinéad O’Connor, David Bowie, Nick Cave, and the Beatles.
O’Sullivan shares insights on her heritage, friendships, and the celebration of performing with the adept Murray, who switches from vocals to keyboards to stillness, and occasionally enfolds O’Sullivan’s voice in his own warm, mellow tones. Their empathy and harmony are palpable and inclusive.
She unashamedly embodies Sinéad O’Connor’s maxim to be ‘emotionally honest over perfection’: occasional flat notes are barely noticeable as the intense emotion and clarity of her voice command the auditorium. Her vulnerability and appeal for compliance from the audience are both disturbing and disarming as she shares inner thoughts and feelings so readily. At times, rather than applaud, there was a sense of the audience wanting to reach out to protect and comfort her. The silence accompanying O’Sullivan’s soft, whispering lyrics contrasted intensely with the overwhelming volume of big notes reverberating in this intimate setting. At times, she sings without a microphone, yet the audience holds silent and every syllable is heard.
Nurturing her audience, she coaxes lyrics from us – low, soft notes, encouraging honest expression, occasional discord, and creating a sense of community, of family, and of Ireland. Again, this ties closely to Sinéad O’Connor’s artistry, choosing rawness and authenticity over technical mastery. O’Sullivan pays close attention to her audience, gaining earnest responses, caring engagement, and we shared the joke as she exposed a split boot – mocking her own outfit whilst exposing her soul. At her most vulnerable, on bended knee, singing O’Connor’s ‘My Darling Child’, her voice whispers and flows over this achingly tender, beseeching and prayerful lullaby – a triumph.
Having sung with The Pogues, we are unsurprisingly regaled with anecdotes about them, including collective wayward behaviour. Her commanding delivery of established favourites, including ‘Summer in Siam’ and ‘Haunted’, is impressive in both adaptation and performance. Towards the end of this mystical and occasionally mournful set, O’Sullivan holds court with her interpretation of Nick Cave’s ‘The Ship Song’.
Throughout, we are encouraged to celebrate the lyrics and poetic cadence of these artists, and by exposing her loss and grief, O’Sullivan conveys depth and authenticity. Standing both ethereal and present, she brings testament to the past, bridging time with loving gestures and callouts to those long gone.
O’Sullivan and Murray are compelling artists who deliver a remarkable experience. They will return in 2026 with a full band and hopefully an even more complex repertoire. Undoubtedly, they’ll continue to provide thoughtful, honest, empathic artistry.
Produced by Soho Theatre & Tim Whitehead
Camille O’Sullivan: Loveletter runs at Soho Theatre until Saturday, 6 December.
