First week of rehearsals: Betrayal

Structurally, Betrayal works backwards starting with the end of a marriage, progressing to the beginning of an affair.  Our rehearsals are following the chronology of the characters rather than this structure, following them in key moments of the affair and beyond. So this week we started at Scene 9.  We’ve rehearsed 5 scenes now, with 4 more to explore and discover next week. This structure has demanded the actors to approach each scene considering what has come before, and how they enter into the scene (as Stanislavski would have called it – the given circumstances). Another of his fundamental ideas, the through-line, is the impetus behind this rehearsal structure.

Episodic in nature, and spanning almost 9 years, the play’s scenes are mostly only between 2 characters at a time, so rehearsals have been intense in focusing on individual characters. Not only are the cast engaging with their characters, but also their relationships with the other characters. The power struggles in the play are something which the actors seem to be especially enjoying exploring too; who has the power in this scene? Who thinks they have the power? What do we even mean by conceptualising and abstracting power?

Questions, questions, questions.  In any play, we always have to question the veracity of what a character says – with Pinter, this curiosity escalates into suspicion, even scepticism at the words spoken. The language is sparse, curt, and sometimes unforgivingly monosyllabic, yet beneath the surface, the play is teeming with detailed ambiguity. Often this is called subtext; yet that word itself is too simplistic. It’s too simplistic and binary to suggest that there is simply a contrast between what a character is saying and what they are feeling. It is the gap between the various semantic meanings of the words people say, and the various thoughts that are flooding their brains at moments of crisis, which is of interest in Betrayal and elsewhere. Throughout the play, the characters are trying to conceal things from their friends and lovers – yet sometimes the interplay between concealment and the hidden conflate. It is, suitably enough,  very difficult to convey this notion in words. Ultimately, in simplistic terms, in rehearsals we are not just asking why a character is saying or doing something, or merely how the actor might portray this, but also what they might actually be saying . And by saying, we mean what are they communicating – corporeally – voice and movement, respiration, everything.  In Betrayal, the what and the why are often conflated – how can we ascertain why someone is doing something if we don’t know what they are doing? But paradoxically, how can we determine exactly what someone is actually communicating if we don’t know what is motivating them?

The actors have embraced these challenges and have already progressed in their acting  drastically. Certain sections of scenes really are sparklingly alive with their nuance and depth. We still have a considerable way to go, but I’m pleased to report that the actors are thoughtfully engaged with the play and their characters.

For me, personally, since the play is set in internal spaces, the blocking has been relatively straight-forward. At first, I was moving them about a bit too much. It soon became clear that the movements within each scene, had to be minimal. As a director, one has to strike a balance in a naturalistic play between motivated movement and variation of the stage imagery. One scene is set in a restaurant, so it is compulsory to the style of the play, that they remain primarily sedentary. Yet in other scenes we try and vary this, correlating with the shifts in tone of a scene, or a sudden thought that motivates movement.

The Corpus Playroom, where the performances will be (cheeky plug alert: 9.15pm, 9th -13th Nov’10; £5/6), is a unique L-shaped space. While the stage itself is a rectangle with an upstage door and walls, the audience sits facing two sides of the stage. At the other two sides of the rectangle are walls – which creates an internal room-like space- perfect for Betrayal. In having audiences on two sides, a director has to think carefully about blocking-in the positioning with the actors. Although it is evidently important that an audience sees enough of the actors faces, and not just their profiles, one has to avoid having actors trying to be equally visible to both sides of the audience at any one time. If this is done, and productions in the Corpus Playroom frequently suffer from this, it feels very flat, very 2-dimensional, artificial even. The audience subconsciously is aware of the actors’ attempts to always be seen. Instead, the blocking has been made on the diagonal. This means that if a pair of actors is talking to each other, one of them might have their backs to one side of the audience, and the other might have their back to the other side. While this might sound counter-intuitive, this allows for the best use of a space like this one, and ensures the movement of the actors looks ‘real’ and not ‘flat’, when you have audiences watching the same play from different angled sightlines. So instead of presenting everyone with the same image, we’re presenting different perspectives to audience members depending where they are sitting.

Initially, the actors kept slightly turning their bodies to try and ‘open themselves out’ to the audience, avoiding having their backs to any audience member. For an end-on staging, this would be a sensible thing to do; in a space like the Corpus Playroom it just looks artificial. The actors are less conscious of this now and are ‘closing themselves off’ for want of a better phrase, and allowing for a sharing of sightlines.

I’ll write next weekend to update you on what has been going on in our 2nd week.

Betrayal readthrough

The auditions are over, and readthrough completed. We saw over 30 people for 3 parts nearly a week ago now, and the three people we chose, read through the play today. Everyone seems excited about the project – although it looks like it’s going to be hard work. I’m really pleased with the cast we’ve chosen, and although we’re missing the small role of the Italian waiter, they seem to gel well, the cast. Hearing the rhythms of the speech and dialogue was particularly instructive from the readthrough. The baseline of acting, as it were, even at this stage is high which means the final performances look very promising.

There are still a few administrative issues to organise, but all in all we should be well on our way. Next we need to advertise for a Stage Manager, Lighting Designer and Poster Designer. We’re going to sort out the costumes and properties ourselves, but will work with others where necessary to sort this out.

We’re beginning rehearsals next week – I’m eager to start playing with the shifts in the dialogue through the scenes, and playing with physical positioning and proxemics. Hopefully we’ll start getting some photos up here too, of us in rehearsal.

The collages which in a previous post I said the audience would place on the walls will not go ahead in this way. I’ve been informed that nothing can be stuck onto the backwalls of this theatre. Instead, we’re going to hang the collages from the lighting bars or from nail hooks in front of the wall before the audience arrive. This is slightly disappointing as there won’t be the interactive/immersive element of the scenography anymore – but, aesthetically,  it’ll still look similar.

I’ll give an update after our first week of rehearsal with pics hopefully.

 

 

Review of ‘Ajar’

A version of this review first appeared in The Cambridge Student.

Ajar

1 star

Suzanne Burlton’s new play is about Lottie (Patricia Snell),  a depressive in a loveless marriage,  who attempts to kill herself by an overdose of tablets, before she is interrupted by the cold-calling of an Avon representative knocking on her door. Apparently, Rachel (Sophie Peacock) is a desperate working mother from the council estate flogging her make-up in the suburban neighbourhood. She discovers upon entering Lottie’s house that hidden under the bananas and pear in the fruit bowl are the sleeping pills and tablets which Lottie was about to consume before her arrival. What follows is tedious and illogical dialogue in which the stranger attempts to persuade the house-owner not to kill herself, and to tell her husband Michael (Jagveen Tyndall) about her suicide attempt.

The play offers no insight into the mind of a depressive; no insight into the stiflingly suburban quotidian; no insight into anything. Indeed, anyone who has any experience or relation to mental illness would find this play offensive in its basic dramaturgical ineptitude. All three characters are thinly drawn, giving the actors little to work with; they are as blank as the clinically white walls in front of which the actors perform.

Burlton’s voice as a playwright is as sparse as her characters are: the dialogue is bland and banal, ridden with clichés and lacking in originality of tone. Dialogue resorts to dramatic conflict of the most banal: “I really don’t want you to kill yourself” pleads Rachel; the reply of Lottie is “I really want to kill myself.”  The encircling dialogue seems to have no progression. When the narrative does indeed progress, the motivation feels contrived, and has no logical coherence.  Hyperbolising I am not, in condemning the direness of the script.

It would be inaccurate to describe Ajar as unremittingly poor as there are moments that descend into unintentionally comic depths, at least startling the viewer by their relative vibrancy. As Lottie describes a recurring nightmare she has been having, with an unoriginal preponderance of blood, in which she fears her husband is trying to kill her, emblematically, the lighting quickly cross-fades to crimson, and her husband shuffles in like a zombie with a knife outstretched: a ridiculous moment.

A gobo designed to create the impression of sunlight shining through the living room casts an unrealistic shadow across the Corpus Playroom walls, and the telephone sound effect used does not correlate with the modern handset. On balance, these production oversights are indolent insignificances in comparison with the lack of textual realism in a play that otherwise chooses to observe the three unities of drama.

The director (Matthew Topham) describes Ajar as a “tense piece of new writing”, but there is no apparent friction between the two characters.  Dull dialogue is matched by unenlightening direction, with the actors being mostly sedentary, avoiding eye contact with each other. I was hoping that Lottie would do the inevitable and down her pills sooner rather than later – a despicable response to invoke in any audience member.

When the play does finally reach its end, Simon and Garfunkel’s Sound of Silence is heard: a reflection of this production’s lack of subtlety. None of the audience was certain whether the production had reached its conclusion despite the implied finality of the stage action. A voice behind us, informed the audience that the production had ended, while another member of the production team mouthed ‘get off’ to one of the actors inexplicably still remaining onstage.  Perhaps it was wise that there was no curtain call, excusing the audience from fulfilling the convention of applauding.

Watching Ajar wasn’t so bad that it would make one want to kill oneself: conversely, it was life-affirming knowing that real life does not resemble Burlton’s stilted dramaturgy.  If you must see a play about suicidal depression this term, hedge your bets and wait for Sarah Kane’s 4.48 Psychosis instead; improve your odds by reading it yourself.

 

Support the UK’s arts

The arts inspire, entertain, and challenge us; they make our society a better place to live, and hopefully make us think about our society and our own lives afresh. But without the aid of government funding, arts organisations, which support a broad spectrum of artists, will undoubtedly suffer. Although cuts across all public sectors are inevitable, the proportion of arts spending is minute compared with other departments. With the vital support that the government provides, arts organisations and artists actually boost the economy, in addition to serving the general public. A relatively small contribution from the taxpayer, results in a meaningful cultural and economic ‘return’.

Cuts to education work, outreach programmes, and access, and a rise in ticket prices will be the necessary response by organisations if the cuts hit them too hard.

So, sign this petition if you want to help arts groups and organisations maintain funding:

http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/save-the-arts.html

Also show your support by signing: http://www.ivaluethearts.org.uk/

‘Like’ these on facebook, tweet these links to your followers, and copy them into your blogs. Add a twibbon to your twitter profile pic too:http://twibbon.com/join/I-Value-The-Arts

Only audiences and artists together,  speaking out against potential body-blow cuts,  can save the arts. Do something now to ensure the UK public maintain world class arts.


Betrayal update September ’10

Writing this while half-listening to the Review Show. Just an update on the process of Betrayal. Between now and the last time I wrote about my preparations of this play, I have been to Edinburgh fringe as well as visiting relatives in Ireland and Hampshire. Also I’ve been  reading  GB Shaw plays, which have been brilliant, as he is the playwright I’ll be writing my dissertation on. Other plays I’ve read include Oleanna by Mamet  and A Wedding Story by Lavery – very different plays but both I’d highly recommend. Lavery’s Beautiful Burnout script is brilliant, which is currently on tour (Frantic Assembly/National Theatre of Scotland).

Anyway, perhaps these different experiences have helped me come up with some new ideas for Betrayal. The set is going to be white walls with a collage of images, text, and red wallpaper samples stuck onto it related to the 70s period and the world of the play. The positioning of these pieces will be determined by the audience: as they arrive they will be handed  a piece of the collage sheets and be asked to stick wherever they like on the walls. Hopefully,  this will let them explore the space of room in which the action happens, and will allow them to closely examine the collages with their detail. For instance, in the collage will be pages from a WB Yeats poetry book since he is the favourite poet of two of the main characters. I’ve been reading Yeats before going to bed to get in their mindset. Colour scheme wise, the palette of the production (and therefore the collages) is of monochromes with splashes of red in the collage; in the scene changes there will be a wash of red too.   But the next job will be to make these collages!!

While the audience enter the space and position the collages on the wall, two of the actors will be frozen in their starting positions – the idea behind this is to convey the sense the production will play with time: rewinding, stopping and starting.

The idea of this pre-set has been inspired by several productions. A few years ago, Pilot Theatre and York Theatre Royal Youth Theatre devised a production in which when the audience arrived they created the set by participating in drawing and writing on the walls and floor. Although this was an interactive production about the sharing of cultures (the performance originated from an exchange trip to Kuala Lumpur), and therefore a very different piece to Betrayal. However, I’m interested in how more experimental work might interact with more traditional work. I believe that audiences are fairly open to unusual and experimental work as long as it is within the context of ‘experimental’ work, but struggle when different forms merge. So, in more traditional text-based plays, non-traditional stagings and forms seem discordant to some audiences.

In Edinburgh (and indeed before) I saw some good and not so good immersive performances. Immersive theatre is a pertinent reminder of the unique quality of live performance: a shared experience in a shared space.  I think this production’s pre-set will also create an immersive quality for the audience. This is important as I want them to feel as if they’re present in the rooms in which the betrayals take place, instead of voyeurs observing the private affairs of the characters.

Payment of the performance licence needs to be made soon and other logistical issues…

I’ll update once I’ve cast the production /had the first readthrough. Then after this I’ll write an update at the end of each week of the rehearsals with pics and vid.

*Betrayal, Corpus Playroom, Cambridge, 9th – 13th Nov 2010. 9.15pm.*

Pickwick and Nickleby guest post

James Swanton is writing a blog describing his rehearsal process and wider experiences in theatre; he is performing in a Dickens adaptation of two halves in Cambridge: Pickwick and Nickleby.

He very kindly invited me to contribute a guest post to his blog, and you can read the result here:

http://pickwickandnickleby.blogspot.com/2010/07/guest-speaker-4-oliver-oshea.html

And I would thoroughly recommend reading his own posts, and those of the other people he has invited to write for it, as they’re all very interesting:

http://pickwickandnickleby.blogspot.com/

Preparation for Betrayal

Since my first post on the production process of Betrayal, I’ve made good headway in setting down my initial thoughts on how I intend to stage the production. I’m not working on it all the time; I’m dipping in and out of work, allowing time for ideas to develop by themselves in a less pro-active or forceful manner than one is required to do under time pressure.

I’ve mocked up a rough rehearsal schedule for the months October and November, and worked out the order of the scenes to be rehearsed. Betrayal has a structure that is non-chronological; in fact the general progression of the action is backwards. However, when the actors initially approach the scenes, they will act them in chronological order instead. The thinking behind this is to allow for the actors to appreciate how the events unfold from one to the other. After this, we will piece the play back together into its original form.  It was important for me to set out the rehearsal schedule – as the structuring of rehearsals itself is highly influential on the final performances the actors deliver. As I learnt on Frozen, the last student production I directed, the order in which we rehearsed the scenes created problems in various ways for the actors.

Despite this, I still believe that it is also important to figure out the minimum number of rehearsals possible. This is for several reasons: (1) Cambridge students are very busy – so I think it is important to not have too many rehearsals (and hopefully they’ll use their free time to learn their lines accurately and quickly…); (2) too many rehearsals result in ‘set’ performances – actors need to be ready to perform at just the right stage in the process, and if they are ready too early they begin to try to set their performance in stone: every performance should be slightly different, and therefore new each time; (3) I hate losing my social life entirely…

So I already have a great sense of achievement in the admittedly minor task of typing up a schedule.

I have also done more practical things. I’ve made sketches of furniture positioning and started to imagine how the scenes will be changed in the transitions between scenes. These are still fairly vague ideas with a few questions lingering about the practicalities of certain things. In fact, my mind has been almost entirely focused on the mechanics of staging at this moment. The in-depth textual work and consideration of character will be left to the weeks prior to the start of rehearsals.

To complement these scene transitions, I’ve been selecting 70s music to underscore the furniture and casts’ movement. Since the narrative structure is backwards, I’ve reversed famous songs from the era, making them unrecognisable in their backwards state. I’ve never done any sound design before really, except choosing tracks off CDs, so I didn’t know how I would reverse the tracks. Typing my question into Google I found someone had asked the same question in something like Yahoo Answers, and many people suggested Audacity. This programme is brilliant and a complete novelty to me; it is easy to use and quick to freely download.  Ripping tracks off an I HEART the 70s CD, I reversed them on Audacity and chopped them about a bit, since reversed singing sounds simply like Russian or French. So all that now remains are instrumentals from well-known songs which won’t be any longer recognisable. I have been very careful in matching the year of the track with the year of the scene nevertheless for accuracy.

I’ve no idea whether this will work in the production or whether it will simply sound weird and distracting. Hopefully it will make the audience realise that the structure of the play’s time-scheme is backwards. In the last production I directed, Frozen, all four reviewers we had in on Press Night commented on the ‘unusual’ sounds alienating them. Perhaps the reaction will be the same again with this. We’ll see.

Not all the tracks have been done yet. I’m going to come back to it after a break – with time to reflect on those I’ve already created. I would have liked to have found a Sound Designer to do this for me, but the experience has been worthwhile in learning basic editing skills. Also, finding someone who is up to the job at the university and who is willing to do it, and is on the same wave length as me is certainly difficult.

I’ll make an update on the preparatory process again within the next few weeks.

Staging of Betrayal

This is the beginning of a diary from page to stage of my direction of Betrayal by Harold Pinter, in a student production at Cambridge Uni. The aim being that people can follow the process of what it takes to realise a production from start to finish. Readers are invited to comment on the process or ask questions.

The Fletcher Players, who decide whose plays are staged in the Corpus Playroom http://www.corpusplayroom.co.uk/index.php each term, have programmed me in for the Week 5 Lateshow slot. Once the Cambridge Arts Theatre, who co-own the Corpus Playroom,  approve the play for production at the start of the new term in October, we shall have the full go-ahead to proceed.

Immediately we have to produce a publicity description and a provisional publicity image for the Termcard (like a brochure I guess) which will be sent out into the wide world at the beginning of next term.  Other pressing concerns are ensuring our funding from the two dramatic societies that are co-funding the project and to pay for the dramatic rights. Inquiries have already been made about the availability of the performance rights and this has been successful.

All of these organisational factors are really important despite their evident tediousness. Another logistical problem is that the play’s running length is approx 1hr 30mins, and yet its starting time is 9.30pm with a cut off time of performance at 11pm. Obviously this is too close for comfort,  so I am going to try and negotiate with the production which is starting before Betrayal to see if I can start the performance at 9pm or 9.15pm instead.

So already there are things to do and problems to solve – and that’s even before casting and rehearsals! I’m really excited about this though, and can’t wait to get started.

Over the summer I shall also be working on other projects; with my friend Fred Hall, I hope to devise a new piece for performance in early September in York, while continuing writing our play Depends intended for professional performance in the future.

Review of Canary, ETT etc.

A shorter version of this review first appeared in The Cambridge Student.

Canary

ETT/Liverpool Everyman and Playhouse/ Hampstead Theatre;  touring.

Cambridge Arts Theatre

***

Presenting a narrative sweep from 1962 to the present day, Jonathan Harvey’s bold new play packs a powerful punch – despite an unsteady beginning. Through the personal stories of various characters, Canary charts a history of gay Britain: struggles that gay men have experienced over the years from aversion therapy and the scare of AIDS to YouTube-posted homophobic hate crimes.

Despite the epic nature of the piece, there are only eight members of the cast, who are mostly required to play several roles each. It is testament to the ability of the actors and the creative team that they are able to play such distinctly different characters from scene to scene. Jodie McKnee deserves recognition for her clearly defined characters and her comic timing in her various roles, and Sean Gallagher is impressively unrecognisable between his roles as the camp reality TV presenter Russell and as aversion therapy supervisor Dr McKinnon.

In a play in which the audience are required to follow the traversing narrative shifts in time, the costumes of designer Liz Ashcroft are successful in defining the characters and their environment immediately. The set design however, is a bland characterless raked curve which could be re-used for almost any other epic narrative. Sometimes, especially in some of the earlier scenes with only a few characters onstage, the wide open expanse of the set also dwarfs the actors; lighting, breaking up the space into smaller sections, would have easily prevented this. Colin Grenfell bravely uses colourful lighting, and generally succeeds to exploit the full range of his palate with sensitivity, but the extensive side lighting creates unwanted shadows on the side-masking, and the actors’ faces were, from time to time, obscured by darkness.

Director Hettie Macdonald presents beautiful and searing images in her direction to match the flights of fancy of Harvey’s script: the wedding tableaux is poignantly lyrical, and the opening of the second half is delightfully riotous and anarchic in contrast with the measured tone of the production – I  won’t forget the cucumber-sucking Ku Klux Klan-dressed protestor for a long time to come.

Some of the earlier scenes however, feel stilted and lightweight, and certain moments are unavoidably soap-like: the revelation that ends Act One; the police raid on the young lovers. At other times there is a lack of subtlty too: the blood-red lit background for homophobe Margaret Thatcher; the sinister rumbling soundscape  when the police officers are onstage. Since broad brushstrokes and surreal sequences are employed liberally throughout the play, these moments don’t detract too much from the more thoughtful staging of other scenes.

Unfortunately however, Harvey’s play itself revolves around a narrative premise, a secret of a family, that is too weak and too superficial to support the historical ambition of the entire play; a real shame considering how wonderfully the play resolves.

Frozen reviews

This term I directed a play called FROZEN by Bryony Lavery at my College at Cambridge.

The performances were well-received by the audiences who attended, and I was overall pleased with the final product.

Next year I would like to direct some more College-based theatre; I believe that theatre should have a direct relationship with its audience, which means that I would rather produce work that serves the local community, than productions that have little care for its audiences . . .

Here are a selection of critical comments from the following linked student reviews:

* * * *

“a rare and sophisticated treat”

“one of the most startling and effective [productions] I’ve seen this term”

” immaculate cast”

“beautifully paced”

“a stellar script and astonishing leads”

“Unafraid of showcasing Lavery’s dangerous brand of humour”

“a satisfying and rewarding piece”

“Go and see it”

http://www.tcs.cam.ac.uk/issue/theatre/frozen/

http://www.varsity.co.uk/reviews/2203

http://cambridgetab.co.uk/reviews/review-frozen/

A Happy Hour to Forget

A new poem by Oli O’Shea…. feel free to comment.

A HAPPY HOUR

TO FORGET?

Well,

I can’t even remember last night

Never mind  great-granddads’ sacrifice.

Pissing the time

At university, where I learn

How to make some money

An investment for the future

Not to learn about the past

Or who we are, and why we’re here.

Naaaah…

Life’s too short. Enjoy it while you last, that’s what they say,

C’mon:    Let’s.    Get.

Smaaaashed!!

Forget about  ’8 hours’ for morning lectures:

I’ll catch up with sleep slyly at the rear.

No-one can make me

Listen to them

Unless they blow bombs in my face

Or gas me.

No mouse will nibble my ear as I nap  -

Only risk the chance of a pen-drawn

Moustache, me.

Coz no one tells me

What to do:

Piss where I want

Do what I want.

I live in halls – not with Mum and Dad

I hear kelly’s Kunt being banged in 148

Through the wall

Every night

And not Mum’s fake cries

After a few tipples.

Boobs and booze – that’s all I care about

I don’t think of them what serve in Irak

Or Afgan

I just wanna be served a pint.

Idiot illittlerets who couldn’t get into

What Dad still calls a polytech -

Unlike me.

A degree, you see,  means dignity

I would never use a gun

Coz that’s just plain wrong

Shooting piss (and cum) though

That has to be done.

Not defending my actions, right,

I don’t even know the meaning of defence,

Sitting comfy on a train,

Or in some such other bulls-eye for a mentalist Islamist.

What I did was wrong -

I’m sorry.

I really am.

I didn’t know what was what,

I was   drunk

smashed

plastered

pissed –

(actually    that last one’s probably

not   the word I’m looking for right now…)

But I am sorry.     Honestly.

Please don’t send me down

For a weak bladder

It’s not my fault

Boozing gone wrong was all

Just following everyone else

In downing their student loan shot by shot.

Student night and 2-4-1s

Rule this city.

They invaded this place

With their sick splats, and fights and fucks for fun

And piss dripping down the walls.

Yes:      piss.

Piss.

coz i absolutely positively must go here nowrightnowhere

if i don’t  i’m gonna wet myself

And no-one’ll

want to suck off

The Guy with the Wet Patch.

So this memorial will simply have to do

As a substitute

For a urinal.

Hopefully I’ll shag someone

On the toilet seat

Of some club

Later on though.

After another drink, of course.

~

I deserve to be forgotten.

Another name on another stone

One day.

Yet,    I won’t be.

People will remember

Me

And not the name    I

Stained

With  WKD-wee.

Review of ‘Unfolding King Lear’

‘Unfolding King Lear’,  Judith Wilson Drama Studio, English Faculty, Cambridge.

*

This performance was an investigation between text and performance, the text being King Lear, and the performance being just about everything the company could throw at it.  They promised no definitive reading of Shakespeare’s text/s (they collated two different manuscripts) but promised the possibility of multiple readings  – or rather, the impossibility of a definite reading - and this was an admirable, if somewhat cliched, purpose.  Yet despite this, there were some very heavy-handed interpretations: the feeding of Lear’s daughters by an extended spoon in the opening scene, and the extinguishing of a candle by dust from a boot, where one can notice the relationship between the realisation of performance and the text. There were many more random moments in the piece that had no relationship to the text whatsoever – they seemed completely pointless. How can this be an serious exploration of the relationship between text and performance? It seemed, in fact, that there was more interest in exploring performance as a medium rather than their specified exploration of both text and performance.  

For the first 15 minutes or so I was intrigued and engaged by the piece – but after this I started zoning out and becoming bored. The production’s hyperactivity was paradoxically incredibly boring after a while, as the focus was lost on one point in the space, so that I felt overwhelmed by stimuli. As a result of this, I felt underwhelmed and unengaged with either the text or the performance. At the beginning of the piece, the cast bow to (poorly pre-recorded) applause, which has not only been done before by experimental theatre groups and is old-hat, but the question of the point of bowing has also been examined by academics fairly thoroughly before.  Part of the problem with this group, is that they imagine they are more ‘cutting-edge’ and innovative then they really are. Everything I witnessed there  had been done before and done considerably better.

While the group may have had admirable intentions, this project failed to achieve its aim as I understand it, and simultaneously created a performance which was unwatchable. I tried to stick it out, but after an hour I could bare it no longer and had to leave. 5 or 6 people had already left by the time I decided to go – who knows how many endured this torture until the end?

If you want to see a serious and enjoyable exploration of text and performance, go see Factory Theatre’s ‘Hamlet’. They perform the text with a different cast member performing each role every night, anywhere, and with props brought by audience members. Although this production has its flaws as well, if you’re interested in the exploration of indefinitive readings, then they are are a better bet than the diabolical mess which was ‘Unfolding King Lear’.

Review of ‘Kresna Denawa’, Cambridge Gamelan

* * *

Kresna Denawa,Cambridge Gamelan, Matthew Cohen and special guests, at  West Road Concert Hall, Cambridge as part of the Festival of !deas.

Kresna Denawa was a performance of a Javanese oral version of the Mahabharata, presented by wayang kulit (shadow puppet theatre) and gamelan music.  The basic story was of a young knight defeating an evil ogre, and the wayang kulit was operated by one performer (Matthew Cohen) who sang, narrated, voiced the characters, made -admittedly peculiar- sound effects, whilst gamelan music underscored and linked the action of the story. The gamelan group were comprised of roughly 15 members or  more and was beautiful.  I could have just listened to the gamelan music for hours without the accompaying performance; it was relaxing and there was a meditative ambience.  These musicians were placed behind the wayang kulit, and the audience were encouraged to move around during the performance to watch either the shadows cast from the front or the puppets being manipulated from behind the screen. By moving round to watch the puppets, one could also view the musicians.

At first I sat only from the front, and was a little frustrated after a while by the slowness of the narrative and the repetitive nature of the movement of the shadows. After moving round to the side, however, I was much more engaged by the performance and appreciated why it took time, as the solo puppeteer clearly had a lot to do. From the front, the puppet’s shadows were obviously only black and white images, while from behind, you could see the beautiful colours of them.

I returned for the last third of the piece to the front with a slight view of some of the musicians but not the puppeteer. I enjoyed the shadows much more now I understood the conventions and was more patient. It made me think about perspective and how knowing how something works changes how we feel about it. It was interesting watching how the audience responded to the piece as well; seeing when they chose to move around to see different perspectives, and choosing when to leave – as we were free to come and go as we pleased.

There were sound issues sometimes, where it was difficult to hear the narration/speech over the gamelan music and this spoilt it a bit for me. Also the venue itself was not really suited to moving around the space, and there was too much emphasis on viewing it from the front. There were some annoying staff who kept trying to get people to sit down as well, as for some reason they didn’t want people to stay stood – even though they were all standing themselves…

Within it though, there were some great moments, the fight scenes between the puppets were funny and visually very clever (it reminded me of the early Tekken video games in the way they were fighting in two-dimensions) and the voicing of the different characters reminded me of cartoon voices. I also enjoyed Cohen’s improvised riffs on Cambridge life which made the audience laugh. The 3 songs in the middle of the piece performed by the gamelan group were brilliant as well.

Patience was required to get into this performance but it was  rewarding upon giving it a chance. It is the sort of thing you wouldn’t get to see very often – Matthew is one of very few non-Indonseians to regularly perform wayang kulit, and I’d never heard live gamelan music before – and is worth experiencing, even if you don’t stay for the full duration of a performance: this performance lasted 3 hours.  It didn’t feel that long at all though.

My afterthoughts on TakeOver ’09 at York Theatre Royal and the FTI

These thoughts are essentially a response to the blog of Robbie Swale, TakeOver ’09 producer. http://www.takeoverfestival.co.uk/index.php/blog-reader/items/its-over.html

For those of you who don’t know what TakeOver was - a theatre festival programmed and run by under 26 year olds – check out the rest of the above website to get a sense of what the aims and results of the project were.

Robbie’s blog is interesting as it highlights the successes of the TakeOver festival, as the team begin to evaluate the experience to help improve the festival for future years.  The festival made use of funding from Arts Council England’s Free Ticket Initiative , seeking to take the concept a stage further by involving young people directly with the running of the theatre, not just the visiting of the theatre. Many theatres across the country are using this money to try to get more young people to visit the theatre by giving away free tickets. In each theatre, the ‘rules’ are different and the numbers of tickets available for certain performances vary. The way it works at YTR  throughout the year, is that after filling in a form and getting almost like a membership card,  tickets are free for anyone under 26; although there are only a certain number of tickets available every week for each performance. During the festival there was no cap on how many free tickets were given away, so anyone under 26 could have effectively seen 13 different performances over the 3 weeks for absolutely nothing. Which is incredible in itself.

4, 500 young people (half of all the audience for those 3 weeks) came to the theatre, which is impressive. Yet, as Robbie’s blog highlights, unbelievably, less than  half of these young people took advantage of the free tickets, ‘prefering’ instead to pay £5.  Well, a proportion of these young people may not have realised there were free tickets available, but surely not 3000 of them? Posters outside the theatre indicated that there were free tickets and this was (reasonably) well publicised.  £5 is in itself a highly reasonable  price for young people, and this shows YTR’s commitment to young audiences.

I will not attempt to consider why so many young people did not use their free ticket entitlement here. Instead, I think it is worth noting how ultimately, free tickets as a singular idea do not engage young people with theatre as TakeOver has illustrated. In fact, more young people were engaged with theatre through the TakeOver festival as a concept or due to its programming than purely because of it being free. This is clearly evident through the figures which are given on the blog.

I’m not in any way completely undermining the Free Ticket Initative of the government; over the last year I have been to more theatre productions as a result of the scheme - which arguably makes me more ‘cultured’ … whatever that means.   The key word there is MORE, however. How many ‘new’ young people have been introduced to theatres via the Free Ticket Initative, across the country I mean, rather than specifically at York? Or really, is this just further subsidy for those who already go to the theatre, and who are predominantly middle-class? 

Rather, the TakeOver festival shows that theatres need to adopt methods as radical as the FTI in order to embrace and engage young people with theatre to complement and strengthen the FTI.  Although the TakeOver festival was a ‘risk’, Robbie’s blog indicates that the festival broke even as well – which shows it was in fact ‘safe’. Theatres need to wake up to the necessity of engaging young people – they need to wake up to the necessity in  fact, of engaging the communities which they serve, especially those who they have traditionally ignored.

Its always worth remembering that: everyone helps subsidise the arts, which means that the arts should be welcome to everyone.  

Well done, TakeOver ’09.

Watching Equus at York Theatre Royal

Anyone who has read some of my precious posts (and let’s face it – who hasn’t…?), will know that I assistant directed the York Theatre Royal Young Actors Company production of Equus which ran last week  in the Main House space.  I had been working on the production on a voluntary basis since July, before having to leave the company just before they began their production week to head off to university.

It was an absolute pleasure (except when I didn’t have a seat on the train) returning to York to see the final performance after the time I had put into it.  Not only had the casts performances considerably improved in the week between the rehearsal runthrough I saw and the actual final performance, but now all the other production elements were in place: lighting, costume, set, masks and the sound.  The design for the show by Lydia Denno was exquisite, and the horse masks beautiful and scary in equal measure, and the lighting was exactly like my favourite type of lighting: lots of beams and a haze to highlight this.  Really cannot stress enough how important the lighting and design were in supporting the actors in this production.

I had already heard some of the sound in the later rehearsals (as 50% is performed live, the sound picked up through small flesh coloured radio mics) but not of all it, and I was taken away by some of the soundscapes as I was watching. The highlights of this were the ‘Ek’ dream sequence, and the blinding of the horses which was truly upsetting and disturbing.

All of these elements together, which I had not seen, gave me a satisfying closure to the experience of assisting on the production.  The response from the audience has been very positive and and the enthusiastic applause at the close of the production indicated this. It is a challenging play for an audience to follow as the play is wordy and demands a fairly attentive audience to get the most of it. Yet at times you could hear a pin drop, and the audience’s collective engagement with the piece was evident.

I’m so proud of this production, cast and crew alike, and I’m sad that I couldn’t have followed through with the production during production week, which is evidently when a performance really takes its final shape, but was delighted to merely see the show at all. I hope audience members for Equus share this sentiment.

If you saw the production and would like to ask a question, or have positive or negative feedback regarding the production, please don’t hesitate to comment on this blog below, as I know the director of this production, who is also the artistic director of the Young Actors Company, is an active believer in the value of evaluating productions so that improvements can always be made for future projects.

‘Equus’ update

It is a week and a half now before Equus opens at York Theatre Royal and the first full runthrough indicates the show is in good shape.  We’ve been working on tidying up a couple of areas but the cast are doing very well and there are no problems. All the different production elements are coming together, and each week the sound design by Dean progresses further. The actors are rehearsing on a mock-up of the set in an old ballroom which is our rehearsal space: a raised platform which narrows towards a point is the general shape of the set. Using the space as it will be on the stage, is important for the actors to be comfortable, so that the transition from rehearsal room to actual performance space is smooth.

Unfortunately, I will be leaving the company at the time of this transition as I am heading to university.  I will watch one final runthrough and make some notes as I watch it, and then I will email these to Julian before I go. It is a shame that I will miss the Tech rehearsals and Dress as these are when the performances really are honed and polished.

A lot of the actors are using bits of their costume in rehearsal already. Especially jackets and shoes, and hats; things that the actors may not be used to wearing, and will influence how they move as their character.  We have been working with the horse masks for quite a while now, and various adjustments have been made to them to allow the actors greater flexibility in movement. The actors have watched videos of horses from the visit to the riding stable and have filmed themselves in their movement which represents horses in order for them to critically evaluate their own movement. 

The cast seem really excited about the performance, and to be working with the staff of the theatre when they will perform the production on the Main House stage.  Equus is part of the TakeOver festival at YTR (www.takeoverfestival.co.uk )  and as a result there are 3 young  people working on the lighting design of the production, with a lighting technican overseeing this. Each of them have been given different scenes to light and this is a great opportunity for them.

I hope I can get away from university to see the final production of Equus, and I’m really excited about seeing all the different production elements come together to enhance the casts’ performances.

‘Equus’ runs from 7th-9th Oct, York Theatre Royal. (Tickets are FREE for under 26s!) Find out more / book online at:   http://www.yorktheatreroyal.co.uk/cgi/events/events.cgi?t=template&a=509

Why and how did Derren Brown predict the Lottery?

Anyone who tuned in to Derren Brown’s programme last night, ‘How To Win the Lottery’, expecting him to reveal the mechanics of his illusion will have been disappointed.  Of the three options he offers as to how he pulled off his prediction, it was in fact none of them. Right at the end of the show he suggested that it could have all been a trick. Which it was.  Derren would have angered the magic community if he had revealed the core basis of most prediction magic. In fact, it is somewhat irrelevant as to how Derren created his prediction -  by mechanical, electronical or camera trickery means.  

The prediction was a PR exercise, in effect, for the REAL show on the Friday night. Predicting the Lottery as a trick is fairly standard, although Derren did a very baffling version of it.  My belief is that the purpose of Derren’s Friday night show was to dissuade people from playing the Lottery. It is my prediction (or rather, guess) that this Saturday’s Lotto draw will have fewer entrants than normal, due to Friday night’s show in which Derren plants the suggestion that the Lottery was fixed.  The show had a highly intelligent narrative arc; with most of the show being taken up with other tricks supposedly leading towards an explanation as to how EVERYONE could win the lottery by working in groups.  He managed to persuade his 24 volunteers that they had in fact predicted the Lottery. They hadn’t ever managed more than three (when they predicted four … this was not quite as it may have first seemed…) numbers, which is just co-incidence. By showing how the group had failed and then hurriedly returning to the ‘fix the machine’ theory, Derren’s show made the viewer return to this as a solution.  On his website, a poll states that 40% of people believe Derren influenced the outcome of the Lottery by rigging the result. Will these 40% play the Lottery this Saturday with this doubt troubling  their mind? No. 

The narrative arc of the show raised the possibility in the viewer’s mind of the potential of someone fixing the Lottery, even if they didn’t believe that Derren actually did this to reach his prediction. It is clear that the Lottery is something of a bug-bear to a very rational person such as Derren. As he pointed out in the show, if you are are middle-aged, you are more likely to die in the hour before the Lottery draw than you are of winning.  If the chances are so unbelievably slim of winning – why on earth do we bother buying tickets? It is this human irrationality which Derren wished to counter by fighting it with rationality. By the end of the show, we are challenged to wonder what is the point of doing the Lottery at all? And even if we did decide to buy a ticket how can we be sure that the result is 100% fair? Just as Derren can quite easily tell us a simple lie and we may believe it, who is to say that the phrase ‘independent adjudicator’ isn’t simply a lie?  When one plays the lottery does one check who this independent person is? No. We simply trust that they are saying the truth.

Of course, if we are being truly rational we can see that ‘weighted balls’ wouldn’t affect the outcome: this simply wouldn’t be a way of fixing the machine. And if Derren really had worked out a way of fixing the machine, would he have really wasted this method on a magic trick, when he could have forgotten all about the TV show and just bought a ticket to win all that money? Do we really think the people who made the ‘weighted balls’, decided they’d be in on the magic trick and not buy a ticket? No, of course not. By applying rationality we can clearly see that Derren did not fix the machine in a way such as that which he described.

However, the damage is done for Camelot. Derren’s lottery prediction was simply a device to get people to tune in that Friday show. We know its a trick, we know he didn’t fix the machine… and yet, somehow, there is enough possibility, however minor, of someone rigging the Lottery, to dissuade ticket buyers.

Well done, Derren. Quite simply the best thing you’ve done yet.

If, of course, this was in fact your purpose ……. which it might not have been at all.        :)