Descent Theatre

Descent, a new-writing theatre company based in London, have a magnificent blog on their website of 12-line 'playellas' submitted by playwrights.  The brief was that there could be any number of lines of stage directions, but there could only be 12 lines of dialogue.  A new batch of playellas is published to the blog each week, all pertaining to a different theme.  Mine was in 'The Dark Side', entitled 'Domestic.'

Check out Descent, and take a look at my playella!

The National Theatre

Sat in the auditorium before the Cottesloe stage of the National Theatre was the first time I truly knew that I was in love.  It was the 2009 production of J.B Priestley's 'Time and The Conways', directed by Rupert Goold, and it was just so beautiful, the story so moving, the atmosphere of the National so warm and sharp, that I realised I was totally, utterly besotted with theatre.  More than that, I felt like I was home.

'Time and the Conways' by J.B Priestley.  Directed by Rupert Goold.

'Time and the Conways' was the first play I ever saw at the National Theatre.  I had seen plays and musicals in other venues, but there was something different here. Even now, when I've only popped in to book a ticket, visit the bookshop or get a coffee, I'm always reluctant to walk away, like I'm leaving the house and forgetting my keys.  With other theatres, although they put on magnificent productions and have comfortable seats and a reasonably priced bar, there is a mutual understanding that you are only there for the production, and will politely be asked to leave when the evening draws to a close and the magic can end.  (I must say, The Royal Court Theatre is an exception to this - like the National, I can easily spend as long in the bar as I ever have in their auditorium before stumbling back to Sloane Square tube station.)

So, what is it about the National Theatre?  What is it, in its 50th anniversary, that sets this theatre apart from all the rest?  Well, I guess the programming has something to do with it - an extraordinary variety, ranging from Shakespeare to new writing to musicals.  But also the calibre of actors who perform in these productions, the artistic vision that directs them, the perfectionist's eye for detail that goes into the set, costume, lighting and sound design.  In this respect, I have to give special mention to Lucy Prebble's 'The Effect' which played earlier this year - again, directed by Rupert Goold.  It is common that I enjoy a play, but rare that I should be so moved as I was by this production.  Everything about it was in perfect harmony; from the music to the colour of the carpet, from Prebble's writing to Billie Piper's voice.  It felt so fragile, like if we were to breathe out too quickly, it might break.  Likewise, in 2010 I saw Neil Bartlett's 'Or You Could Kiss Me' twice, pinching myself to check whether I had been dreaming the first time.  Similarly, I still have clear visions in my mind of Howard Davies' production of 'The Cherry Orchard' in 2011, with Zoë Wannamaker hunched over a chair, devastated to lose her home, the light perfectly throwing her shadow before an audience in total still silence.

But it's more than just the productions.  It's something to do with the building itself and a sense, as soon as you walk passed the statue of Sir Laurence Olivier, that everyone is in the vicinity for the same reason.  Whether they are getting a cappuccino from the Espresso Bar or a book of monologues from the bookshop, everyone seems starkly aware that they are beside a roaring, humming, screaming hub of energy that drives the enthusiasm for theatre - nay, culture itself - in this country.  Of course, in its history it has been the target of a lot of criticism, most recently on the subject of gender discrimination, but I think the very fact that we feel we can criticise this powerhouse is a credit to its stance as a 'national' theatre.  Crucially, theatre serves to reflect society and in a world where women are still fighting against lower pay and fewer jobs, does it not make sense that the theatre is a mirror image of that?    

What we seem to want from the National is some futuristic time-portal as soon as you walk through the doors, and I don't think there's an architect in the world who is yet capable of producing that.  The 'Live from the National Theatre: 50 Years On Stage' broadcast on BBC2 last Saturday sparked a barrage of tweets about the under-representation of female playwrights, but when you look at 50 years of the theatre's history, it would be a lie to show women's work as pivotal to the theatre's success.  I mean, come on, it took until 2008 for them to stage a production by a living female playwright.  I am not saying this is right.  I'm just saying that there is no point balking at a theatre for honestly reflecting it's past.  It's future, particularly when Rufus Norris comes into play in 2015, I am confident will be very different.

And, that is precisely why I love theatre.  That's why I love the National: there is something so honest about it, from the actors' performances and the absorbing productions to its mistakes, shortfalls and hopes for the future.  It is always forward-thinking but it is never perfect - and will always be this way.  It moves with society like the hands of our own clock and is only trying its best to keep moving, just as we are.

You can still catch 'Live from the National Theatre: 50 Years On Stage' on BBC iPlayer.

Review: The Same Deep Water as Me' by Nick Payne at the Donmar Warehouse

First of all, for those who have not yet visited the Donmar Warehouse, let me tell you that it is a lovely little theatre.  For the calibre of productions it houses I must admit that I expected something far more grand and lofty and a lot less intimate, and was pleasantly surprised.  In the stalls section, the seating is an arrangement of tiered benches around a thrust stage that is level with the front row allowing all-encompassing immersion in the play.  With my feet rested on the stage, I felt like a fly on the wall, dangerously close to joining in the dialogue of this brilliant play.

The action of the play circulates around the world of 'no-win no-fee' compensation claims in a modest solicitors' office, run by Andrew Eagleman and Barry Paterson, specialising in personal injury claims.  While they stand in the midst of their struggle for business, an old school friend of Andrew, Kevin Needleman, is struggling to make ends meet for his growing family.  They work together to stage an accident that culminates in a fraudulent claim for compensation in a bid to serve both of their fraught circumstances, but the conflict escalates, and the group are unexpectedly taken to court.

For a story that brings our own society's attitude towards morality under the microscope, the light, bright, crippling humour in Nick Payne's writing maintains our sympathy with some otherwise revolting characters.  Kevin, immaculately played by Marc Wootton, provides the majority of the darkness to the play while Monica Dolan's perfect performances as both the quirky taxi driver Anne and the nauseatingly pretentious defence lawyer Georgina, provides a considerable portion of the light.  Of note also is Nigel Lindsay's performance as Barry for some one-liners that are utterly unmissable and a raw, if somewhat unexplained, sensitivity to his past.

Indeed, there are some loose ends to the characters' back stories that the play would benefit from tying up, if only for the sake of letting us understand and warm to them more.  Daniel Mays' performance as Andrew Eagleman is particularly good, but his character does not vary enough to see the full range of emotion that we would expect.  Regardless, Mays pushes the boundaries as far as he can and leads the production with a real, captivating energy.  Trivialities aside, for the sake of a play that is undoubtedly enjoyable and furtively intriguing, this production meets the requirements with effortless naturalism.  The deft direction by John Crowley brings us into a world unknown to most of us with a thrilling pace and the uncompromising honesty that renders an audience unaware of much beyond the truth of the lives portrayed before them.


'The Same Deep Water As Me' plays at the Donmar Warehouse until 28th September.
Tickets £7.50- £35
For bookings, go to: www.donmarwarehouse.com
Running time 2h 10 min including interval.

Back to Ballet

http://www.roh.org.uk/about/the-royal-ballet

After a two year hiatus in which the most dancing I did was in the morning to BBC Radio 1, or in the evening to a live band in London’s Soho, I have returned to ballet classes with my home dance school, Basingstoke Academy of Dancing.

Well first of all, I have to admit that two days since my first ballet classes, my muscles are still in pain.  While at University, I maintained an exercise regime with running, walking, yoga and swimming but, seemingly, ballet demands a whole other layer of insatiable strength and endurance.  In my first evening back, Sandra Doling, a visiting dance teacher from the Royal Academy of Dance, introduced us to the brand new Advanced 2 syllabus.  Let me tell you, it’s no easy feat.  It is lovely, it allows room to really dance and feels something like a révérence to the eleven grades (if you took the same route as me) previous to it.  But a pirouette with your leg straight out to the side that finishes, indeed, with that leg still perfectly poised, was not quite in the skill set that I had stumbled back to the floor with.

Beyond the laughable idea of mastering Advanced 2, and the fact I currently struggle to walk down stairs, to stand up, indeed, to move my legs at all, placing my hand back on the barré and my feet in fifth position held such familiarity that it felt like I hadn’t been away at all.  Muscle memory fascinates me in this respect.  All those hours in previous ballet classes frowning at my turnout, peeling my foot off the floor in order to dégagé evermore gracefully, lifting my body up even when it’s lowering down to plié.  All those frowns were entirely worth the time to allow me to come back and remember it all, even when my leg was screaming to find itself performing a ronde de jambe en l’air.  And yet I believe that with ballet, as a rule of thumb, if it hurts, it means you’re doing it right.

I think ballet means different things to different people.  Whereas for the lucky few it is a way of life, for others it is simply a fun way to exercise, and how much you love or hate it weighs in accordingly.  For me, it feels exactly the same as it did when I was four years old and performing the lost toy exercise in pre-primary.  It is in the moments between movement, the very notion of breathing while your arm breathes, of following your arm with your head, of finishing an exercise with your head poised toward the far corner: these are the moments when I remember how much I love it.  It is a friend just as much as a disciplinarian, an impossible prospect blended with attainable success.  It has been with me every day, physically, mentally, and in every twitch in my arms and legs when I watch other people dance.  I may have thought I left ballet, but really, it never left me.

http://www.roh.org.uk/about/the-royal-ballet

Interested in starting dancing?  Starting again?  Trying somewhere new?  Everything you need to know for Basingstoke Academy of Dancing can be found at: www.basingstokeacademy.co.uk

For London, I recommend:

The Place: http://www.theplace.org.uk/engage
Danceworks: http://www.danceworks.net/ 

Pineapple: http://www.pineapple.uk.com/

Review: 'Chimerica' by Lucy Kirkwood, at the Harold Pinter Theatre

I can safely say, the 5 star reviews are entirely justified.  Chimerica is an absolute triumph, providing a sensational story with characters, set and lighting design, direction - heck, even front of house staff - that are exceptional.

Everything about this play is gloriously rich, carrying the complexities and depths that usually belong to a novel or a film.  And yet this play couldn't be anything but a play, because the beauty of it is in its simplicity, namely, the dozens of sets that are projected onto little more than a revolving cube.  The credit for this ingenuity goes to Es Devlin, whose vision allows a background of action to momentarily pass us by.  The peripheries of the storyline that are otherwise discarded for their apparent insignificance are afforded their stage time, and the play is all the better for it. 

So, what of that storyline?  First of all, it is a total homage to the brilliant mind of Lucy Kirkwood.  Inspired by the famous image of a man standing in front of the tanks at Tiananmen Square in 1989, the play follows the journey of a photojournalist who took the picture as he tries, with often desperate measures, to discover what happened to the 'Tank Man' after the event.  What he sacrifices, misinterprets and finally discovers brings the audience to a communal dawning realisation, a sharp inhale, and evermore support for the leading man we've followed just as desperately in his endeavour.

Each scene is short, sharp of wit and quick to action.  Indeed, Kirkwood wastes no time in this 2 hour 45 minute play.  She has taken her story by the scruff of its neck and, apart from the interval, I don't think I moved an inch for the entire duration.  Credit for this must also go to the mesmerising performances of the actors, most significantly the photojournalist Joe (Stephen Campbell Moore) and Tess (Claudie Blakley), who provided the requisite 'boy meets girl' storyline that, let's face it, we crave if it is neglected.  The comic slant came most prominently from Frank (Trevor Cooper), the editor of the newspaper, whose cynicism deserves the sort of laughter that provokes a snort, if the woman sat behind me was any sort of gauge.   What's more, it took me a few scenes to realise that the actors were doubling up on characters: a cast of 12 became a cast of 22, which demonstrates just how much this play immerses you into the reality of it.

Upon leaving the auditorium, I soon realised that there are barely substantial words to describe how phenomenal this piece of theatre is.  Although I decided that the only real solution was to see it again, perhaps every day until the end of its run on 19th October, if you see it just once you'll feel as I did: glad of the near miss between a life where you saw it, and the life where you didn't.  Like deciding whether to stand in front of a tank in Tiananmen Square, or not.  Some things make a resounding mark in history, others don't, but I believe this play will be one that does.

Tickets £10 - 49.50

Available at www.chimerica.co.uk

'Chimerica' runs at the Harold Pinter Theatre until 19th October.

Peter Brook's Dream.

While living in London, if ever I had a day purely to myself, I would take a wander to Spitalfields Market.  On one of these days, I happened upon the antiques market, and found a seller who had a stack of old theatre programmes that instantly caught my eye.  A lot of them were from early RSC productions and I delighted in seeing the names of actors who still race across our TV screens and theatre guides today.  I knew going into this stack that I would inevitably buy one of these programmes, and I settled on this, the 1970 production of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Little did I realise, I was actually picking up the programme to one of the most influential productions of Shakespeare’s comedy, known as ‘Peter Brook’s Dream’, and the face-changer of how the play could be staged.  As John Barber’s review for The Independent described it, “Mr Brook has found a way of making Shakespeare eloquent to this generation”.   Furthermore, perhaps as an apt summation of Brook’s practices, Peter Fiddick wrote for The Guardian, “When Brook attacks in this manner he must have a target, and a totally blank-minded audience would be as a sandbag to a bullet.”

Admittedly, my motivation for picking up this particular programme actually came from the amusement of seeing Patrick Stewart in the early days of his career, those before he stepped onto the set of Star Trek: The Next Generation as the iconic Captain Jean-Luc Picard. 

Likewise, Ben Kingsley, before his stunning portrayal of Mahatma Ghandi in 1982 or as Itzhak Stern in Schindler’s List, Dr. Cawley in Shutter Island or Georges Méliès in Hugo.  30 years previous to these roles, what do we have?  Ron Jenkins in Coronation Street.

As for Peter Brook, given that this production took place at the Aldwych Theatre only two years after The Empty Space had been published, I have no doubt that excitement for any gesture from him was rife.  As the man who wrote, “I can take any empty space and call it a bare stage” I believe it is he who must answer for a lot of the brilliant experimental theatre at large today.  Just as the actors continued to work affluently for the years after this production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, theatre continues to challenge convention, and, thankfully, the traditions of Shakespeare’s plays.  There is nothing I enjoy more than waiting in an auditorium like a sandbag to a bullet, so thankyou, Peter Brook, for all you continue to do.

Not All Women, Just More Women.

Carly Churchill, 'Top Girls'

It’s an old story, one that is never short of articles, campaigns and conversations protesting about it.  I am positive that people are well aware of it, with at the very least, an inkling that things ought to be different, and yet the issue remains.  So, if you don’t mind, I would like to continue the rant. 
 

The under-representation of women in theatre.  Now, we are definitely seeing progress, with Vicky Featherstone at the Royal Court Theatre, Josie Rourke at the Donmar Warehouse and Lucy Prebble, Lucy Kirkwood and Laura Wade on the writing scene.  Also, we hear of productions of Shakespeare's plays with all-female casts, particularly at the Edinburgh Fringe, and the Bush Theatre’s production of ‘Josephine and I’ fills the ‘one-woman-monologue’ spot.  But turn your attention to the majority of the productions in London at the moment and you'll see that they are written by men, directed by men and performed by men.

The argument goes that it is because our love for theatre and its continuation stems from Shakespeare’s time, a time when women were not allowed to grace the stage, let alone write or direct anything for it.  We are simply suffering the (long) hangover of this convention.  Likewise, even when we remember theatre’s roots in Ancient Greece, as far as history can tell us, it was largely performed by men, for men.  It seems to be an entire tradition that we are attempting to overcome which, I understand, is proving a bit of a struggle.  It’s like asking the British to stop drinking tea, to stop queuing, to stop wearing socks with sandals.  The difference is, though, that we are proud of those things, they define who we are and differentiate us from other cultures.  So does that mean that suppressing the female voice in theatre is also something we should be proud of?  

I might be taking that a bit far.  But you can see my point, because when Caryl Churchill stormed through the doors of the Royal Court with her 1982 play, ‘Top Girls’, where was the sudden realisation that women had been truly missing from theatre for all that time?  When we consider that theatre’s function is to discuss, comment and argue with the world, whatever its present state, we can see that there is a massive issue in cutting out a considerable portion of that world’s population and, henceforth, perspective.  With this in mind, I don’t think that we’re asking for much.  We’re not asking for a complete overhaul of the way British Theatre runs, kicking male artistic directors out onto the streets and writing only for female audiences.  The point of feminism, the right sort of feminism, is equality.  Therefore, I’m not suggesting ‘all women’ and nothing else, just more women, can be recognised to share their perspective of the world.

We can only hope that things continue to get better.  There is definitely a whole generation bubbling under the surface who bring more to theatre than just gender equality: we’re also seeing racial equality, embracing sexuality and abolishing boundaries between any kind of class system or upbringing.  On this note, we also need to ask, where are the plays for the older generation?  None of us are getting much younger, and at last count, the oldest person alive is a 115 year old Japanese woman.  Without suggesting that we bring her onto the British stage, I know that the older an actor gets, the less likely they are to have their work noticed.

And yet, to clear all of our differences, to make theatre truly a place of equality and pull Britain along with it, I can’t help but wonder whether theatre would have anything left to discuss.  What would we make theatre about?  What would be our resounding complaint?  Well, knowing us, we’d fill the National Theatre with a box office smash about the weather.  Will it rain or won’t it?  The tension is killing me already.

In the meantime, I recently discovered an online magazine called 'The Quail Pipe' which is just wonderful, especially for the feminist mind.  I recommend taking a look.

Meanwhile, not in Edinburgh...

Not at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival? No, me neither.

It feels almost embarrassing (totally embarrassing) to not be trawling down The Royal Mile, watching street theatre and collecting flyers for this, that and the other comedy, cabaret or re-imagining of a Shakespeare (if you are there, Smooth Faced Gents is doing an all-female production of Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus. WISH I was there to see it). But, for whatever reason, we remain here in the south with the auditoriums still bubbling away in London (and elsewhere) with actually, quite a lot to offer.  Here's a modest selection...

(My recommendations are entirely second-hand.  Sorry.  Graduate life fails to pay for my theatre tickets.)

A Season in the Congo

by Aimé Césaire
From a translation by Ralph Manheim

The Old Vic Theatre

This has been recommended to me by Mariana Taragano, director of TaraganoTheatre.  She absolutely urged all of us involved in her series of physical theatre workshops to go and see this production.  Combining music and dance, she assured me that it is definitely ‘a play’, and the other disciplines are there to enhance the communication of the story.  Plus, anything directed by Joe Wright (Pride and Prejudice, Atonement, Anna Karenina) must be worth seeing.

The Same Deep Water As Me

by Nick Payne

The Donmar Warehouse

Nick Payne

After the success of his 2012 play ‘Constellations’, which made the transfer to Broadway, I am eager to see what other stories Nick Payne can tell.  I met Rafe Spall a couple of times, who has played the role of Roland since the beginning, and he said it is brilliant.  Of course he is biased, but I trust his judgement.  And I trust that Nick Payne is that rare calibre of writer who can produce excellent, exciting plays time and time again.  He has up until now, so why doubt him?  Also, a story set within the world of personal injury compensation is surely ripe for a few laughs.

(The Donmar's Barclays Front Row scheme is probably the way forward if you're looking for a more wallet-friendly ticket.)

Chimerica

by Lucy Kirkwood

Harold Pinter Theatre 

Tiananmen Square

Inspired by the infamous photo of the man stood in front of the tanks in Tiananmen Square in 1989, I have heard and read only good things about this play.  The story of the photojournalist who seeks to discover what happened to the brave man he captured on film, I think this play is set to be one of those important, thoughtful productions that you (and I) would regret not being a part of for one night.

A little bit on the pricey side if you’re looking to book straight away, given that the only seats left are the £49.50 ones (wince), but if you’re free and willing to phone the theatre on the day for possible return tickets, you might be lucky.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

William Shakespeare

The Globe Theatre

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Current production at The Globe

For the Shakespeare fans, who can resist 'A Midsummer Night’s Dream'?  Even beyond my GCSE study guide, I still find this play magical.

(If you do see it, look out for Luke Thompson in the cast.  I met him when I did a summer school at Guildhall School of Music and Drama, and know him to be a brilliant presence on stage, as well as a lovely person.  He’s definitely one to watch and this is his professional debut.)

The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable

Punchdrunk and the National Theatre

Temple Studios, 31 London Street, W2 1DJ

'The Drowned Man', Punchdrunk

I think this one goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway.  The magic is in your own personal experience of this show, apparently, so I haven't even been told much about it.  Only that it is inspired by Georg Büchner's play 'Woyzeck', and to go and see it, which is good enough advice for me.

Enjoy!  And let me know what you think...

 

(P.S: Also worth catching in Edinburgh is Papercut Theatre's XY Event.  It is a series of genderless plays which I think sounds fantastic.  Look out for those directed by Poppy Corbett.)