Pluck is the string to pick

If you recently received one of those bargain-bin CDs that compile the most overused classical tunes and you want to hear them in a live, lightweight context, then Pluck is the string trio to pick. Adrian Garratt, Sian Kadifachi and Jon Regan put a slapstick spin on the riffs of Rossini and Strauss.

Their frothy show is the easiest of introductions to waltz-and-all standards. At times the absence of speech and indulgent mugging makes it feel as if it is
aimed solely at infants or tourists.

Tuxedoed lead violinist Garratt immediately sets the tone by silently squabbling with the submissive Regan for the music stand before demure, ball-gowned cellist Kadifachi chips in, too.

This is amiable, knockabout stuff, more Buster Keaton than Victor Borge. Though there is no doubt that all three are accomplished musicians, partial to serious orchestral manoeuvres as well as larks.

Regan, for example, moonlights as conductor of the Dorking Philharmonia.

The shaven-headed, Count Olaf-ish Garratt punctuates physical comedy set-pieces with a mock-lecture on his music machine collection, while offstage Regan and Kadifachi provide the apt soundtrack.

Needles stick during a vinyl chorus of Silent Night, batteries wear out on a Walkman and there is an immaculate trick where Garratt presses buttons on an eight-track cartridge player and the others - without seeing his cues - shuttle between tracks.

Elsewhere Regan devours an apple while demolishing the William Tell Overture before turning his bow into an arrow.

Later Kadifachi reveals a heartmeltingly bluesy timbre on Fever, reverting to vocals when Garratt fiddles her out of her cello.

It is hardly the most inventive of variety turns, but the package is delivered with a pleasing mix of passion and irreverence.

After an endless weekend of variations on a theme of turkey, Pluck might not sound particularly appetising, yet this threesome refresh jaded palates with their menu of melodic buffoonery.