Sylvia with Beverley Knight and Naomi Katiyo at Curve and on tour – review

Kate Prince and Priya Parmar’s Sylvia: A Musical Revolution arrives at Curve with an interesting question: what happens when a movement fighting for equality cannot agree on what equality means?

Told through the life of Sylvia Pankhurst, the story follows the fractures inside the suffrage campaign. More painfully, it follows those fractures within one famous family. The musical asks who gets heard, who gets sacrificed and what happens when political conviction collides with loyalty to a mother. It’s a vital reminder of what women endured to claim a shred of fairness, and the fight is plainly unfinished.

Beverley Knight gives Emmeline Pankhurst an authority that never needs announcing. Determination slowly hardens into something colder, most visibly in dealings with her daughter. Her vocals are astounding, at moments making the whole theatre vibrate. Her rendition of “March Women March” brings goosebumps.

Naomi Katiyo plays the title role with conviction and no hint of reverence. She is compelling as her character garners the courage to push past her mother’s singular campaign for votes. Her voice is immense and her handling of fast lyrics is impressive. When Knight and Katiyo face each other, the scenes crackle with the electricity of two people who love yet cannot yield. Their rift becomes the shows emotional core.

Kenedy Small is both sensational and hilarious as Jennie Churchill, Winston’s mother. She grinds through her songs with dancehall grace and weaves familiar tunes into her dialogue. Ellena Vincent’s Christabel guards the movement’s public image with ferocity. Kirstie Skivington brings warmth to Adela, and Kelly Agbowu gives Flora “The General” Drummond a mischievous swagger. Collette Guitart is a comic delight as Clementine Churchill. Her rich, powerful voice amplifies her performance. Ebony Clarke, Eloise Davies, Solomon Davy, Leah Hill, Uzuazo O’David, Cleve September and Castell Parker make every one of their many roles count. Tachia Newall as Keir Hardie and Ivano Turco as Silvio Corio add personal balance to the political tale. The swings, Zion Battles, Claudia-Rose Carlier, Nathan Louis-Fernand and Jaye Marshall, add energy and passion to uplift every song and scene.

Prince’s direction and choreography give history a physical vocabulary. Marches, protests and meetings are shaped through movement rather than exposition. The ensemble glides between scenes, not a wasted step, and the staging grasps that a crowd can be thrilling and intimidating at once. The moment the women stand firm against authority, knocked back time and again yet refusing to be defeated, sends shivers down the spine. At two and a half hours, including the interval, the pace never sags.

Josh Cohen and DJ Walde’s score fuses hip-hop, funk, soul and R&B, and it seldom pauses for breath. Company vocals and harmonies remain assured under musical director Sean Green. A live band sits behind a screen on stage, their music weaving seamlessly through the action and immersing us fully in the story. “I Believe in the Golden Age” and “Sylvia, Silvio” rank among the best numbers, while “The Split”, dramatic and emotionally charged, is the song of the night.

Ben Stones’ set and costumes build a stark monochrome world, pierced by flashes of red, a signal of socialist change. Natasha Chivers and Hector Murray’s lighting adds scale and texture, and Tony Gayle’s sound keeps every lyric crisp without flattening the music.

Sylvia’s real strength lies in refusing to be linear. The heroine is no lone figure surrounded by villains. She is a strong woman, asserting her voice and views against political, societal and parental oppression, determined to emerge from her mother’s shadow. The resulting tension gives the story a depth and humanity that elevates it beyond a straightforward historical retelling. It feels starkly contemporary without ever forcing the comparison. Through a rich and varied score, by turns exhilarating, witty and deeply moving, it brings fresh life to a story that refuses to stay in the past. Its questions about power, representation and compromise remain unresolved, leaving us to consider not whether change is possible, but what must be sacrificed to achieve it.