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.