Yep, that's me - living and working in London for the past two and a half weeks.
I'm assisting the wonderful John Kachoyan on the new Ben Ellis play 'Unrestless', as part of the 'Civil Unrest' event taking place as part of the 'Coming Up' Season organised by IdeasTap/Old Vic New Voices. And yes, it really is that complicated. To steal a quote from the play, it's like onion rings: layer upon layer...
This isn't the first time I've lived and worked/trained in London, but it's still something of a culture shock. From dealing with a daily two-hour commute to and from my digs in Chiswick to London Bridge, where we are both rehearsing and performing, to the faster pace of life (I literally walk faster here). Also, the sheer number of people - it makes Bristol seem like a quaint town. Aptly enough, considering it's the country's capital city...But anyway.
Part of the reason for coming was to see whether I would/could/should make the move to London, and I've encountered varying opinions. London seems to be the place to be to make contacts, and there are - in theory - more opportunities here, but conversely it's potentially easier and cheaper to make theatre (and stand out) elsewhere. I think it's an ongoing dialogue I'm going to have to have with myself. In an ideal world I would be able to juggle locations, but that does sort of require money...
Anyhoo, my weeks of relative stability here are about to end as I will now be working in London and Bath *simultaneously*. Yes, I'm just that good. Ahem. Watch as I try to juggle three different events in the same week - you will mostly see me sitting on a train :-) Sadly, because of things like commuting, working full time and occasionally needing sleep, I haven't seen as much theatre as I would like while in London. I can heartily recommend 'Vernon God Little' at the Young Vic though, and - obviously - 'Unrestless' ;-).
Tuesday, 22 February 2011
Sunday, 23 January 2011
National Press
Yep, I'm included in a national publication - http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/jan/23/king-james-bible-reading-bath
Albeit a small mention, but still - how exciting! This is a really interesting project that I was able to get involved with having previously worked on the festival last year. Do come along if you can.
I've been spending my 2011 so far on trying to broaden my horizons, get my name known further afield and learning more about the 'business' side of this industry. With moderate success. The thing is, there is a fine line between information and intimidation, and it's very easy to feel far behind the pack. BUT! You can now find me on the Young Vic Directors' Genesis Network, working at the Bath Literature Festival and potentially working on the Liverpool 'Write Now' Festival later in April.
Small steps. Long game.
Albeit a small mention, but still - how exciting! This is a really interesting project that I was able to get involved with having previously worked on the festival last year. Do come along if you can.
I've been spending my 2011 so far on trying to broaden my horizons, get my name known further afield and learning more about the 'business' side of this industry. With moderate success. The thing is, there is a fine line between information and intimidation, and it's very easy to feel far behind the pack. BUT! You can now find me on the Young Vic Directors' Genesis Network, working at the Bath Literature Festival and potentially working on the Liverpool 'Write Now' Festival later in April.
Small steps. Long game.
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
It All Starts Somewhere
My childhood theatre experience was pretty varied, thanks to my mum's own interest and passion in all things performance. But there are two shows that, I think, had a massive impact on me - both as a person and as a director.
Les Miserables and Blood Brothers.
I have seen both these shows more times than is possibly healthy - especially with the availability of DVDs like the 10th and, now, 25th anniversary concerts of Les Mis in particular. If you know them - both with aspects of comedy but ultimately driven by stories of hope, retribution, anger, despair and powerful music - then you will pretty much know everything you need to know about me as a person and a director. I love comedy but have an affinity for melacholic, nostalgic or thoughtful drama. There is something magical about musical theatre that theatre without music (is there such a thing?) could not match. It is often touted that 'whatever cannot be spoken is sung', and I do believe that in many ways.
When I was little I was desperate to be in the shows. In Les Mis I would be Fantine, in BB I would be Linda. As I was growing up there was a lot of flack associated with liking them. 'Oh that's a miserable show', 'What, the Liverpool thing?'...and the massive popularity that they attract meant that some people could be quite snobby about them. But the fact is that, for me at least, they were transformative experiences. Iconic productions.
Inspiring.
Les Miserables and Blood Brothers.
I have seen both these shows more times than is possibly healthy - especially with the availability of DVDs like the 10th and, now, 25th anniversary concerts of Les Mis in particular. If you know them - both with aspects of comedy but ultimately driven by stories of hope, retribution, anger, despair and powerful music - then you will pretty much know everything you need to know about me as a person and a director. I love comedy but have an affinity for melacholic, nostalgic or thoughtful drama. There is something magical about musical theatre that theatre without music (is there such a thing?) could not match. It is often touted that 'whatever cannot be spoken is sung', and I do believe that in many ways.
When I was little I was desperate to be in the shows. In Les Mis I would be Fantine, in BB I would be Linda. As I was growing up there was a lot of flack associated with liking them. 'Oh that's a miserable show', 'What, the Liverpool thing?'...and the massive popularity that they attract meant that some people could be quite snobby about them. But the fact is that, for me at least, they were transformative experiences. Iconic productions.
Inspiring.
Sunday, 2 January 2011
The First Rule in Theatre
Hello. Welcome to 2011. Are you sitting comfortably? Marvellous. You must not be sitting in the Gods.
Today I saw what was actually a rather good production, but which was let down by the section of the theatre I was sitting in - the only one I can realistically afford when I see so many shows. Why is the Gallery (Gods, Upper Circle; whatever name a theatre gives to its highest tier of seats) such an uncomfortable place to be? At it's worst you risk vertigo for a very distant glimpse of what may or may not be an actor standing/dancing/acting on the stage far below, and at it's best you probably miss seeing most of the action with an uncluttered view due to 'safety bars' in the way. And you don't usually get a seat. You have a bench. Now, I am not the smallest person, and with a dad who is 6'5 tall I have quite long legs, but being able to pay less than a cinema ticket to see a show doesn't really make up for having to sit with my knees up to my chin, craning to see any part of the show that dares to venture any further down stage than midstage, gradually stripping off layers of extra clothing while the heat from the stage, audience and lights below rises to cloud among those stuck at the top.
But, comfort aside, having been in my fair share of 'highest tier seating', it seems to me that the majority of actors and directors forget about it. It is very rare for performers to 'play' to the audience - indeed I have seen shows where their eyes never lifted above the stalls! I know that it's impossible to please everyone, and tickets are cheaper for a reason, and it would be horrible to have to dramatically alter an artistic vision because of sight-lines. But when you stage a good 40-50% of scenes below the realistic vision of people in the top it sort of takes the piss. Theatre is about collectivity - a shared experience between performance and audience. And it seems our inherited theatres have not been designed to fully facilitate that. Of course, it's easy for me to rant about it - I don't have to do anything about it, apart from make as sure as possible that when I stage a production the majority of action can be seen EVERYWHERE in the theatre.
I think this is why I love theatres like The Courtyard in Stratford, The Tobacco Factory in Bristol, Regent's Park Open Air Theatre and the Young Vic in London. Perhaps it's notable that all these places generally use thrust staging.
Put me in the thick of it every time.
Today I saw what was actually a rather good production, but which was let down by the section of the theatre I was sitting in - the only one I can realistically afford when I see so many shows. Why is the Gallery (Gods, Upper Circle; whatever name a theatre gives to its highest tier of seats) such an uncomfortable place to be? At it's worst you risk vertigo for a very distant glimpse of what may or may not be an actor standing/dancing/acting on the stage far below, and at it's best you probably miss seeing most of the action with an uncluttered view due to 'safety bars' in the way. And you don't usually get a seat. You have a bench. Now, I am not the smallest person, and with a dad who is 6'5 tall I have quite long legs, but being able to pay less than a cinema ticket to see a show doesn't really make up for having to sit with my knees up to my chin, craning to see any part of the show that dares to venture any further down stage than midstage, gradually stripping off layers of extra clothing while the heat from the stage, audience and lights below rises to cloud among those stuck at the top.
But, comfort aside, having been in my fair share of 'highest tier seating', it seems to me that the majority of actors and directors forget about it. It is very rare for performers to 'play' to the audience - indeed I have seen shows where their eyes never lifted above the stalls! I know that it's impossible to please everyone, and tickets are cheaper for a reason, and it would be horrible to have to dramatically alter an artistic vision because of sight-lines. But when you stage a good 40-50% of scenes below the realistic vision of people in the top it sort of takes the piss. Theatre is about collectivity - a shared experience between performance and audience. And it seems our inherited theatres have not been designed to fully facilitate that. Of course, it's easy for me to rant about it - I don't have to do anything about it, apart from make as sure as possible that when I stage a production the majority of action can be seen EVERYWHERE in the theatre.
I think this is why I love theatres like The Courtyard in Stratford, The Tobacco Factory in Bristol, Regent's Park Open Air Theatre and the Young Vic in London. Perhaps it's notable that all these places generally use thrust staging.
Put me in the thick of it every time.
Thursday, 30 December 2010
Merry Christmas/Happy New Year
If anyone's out there in the ether reading this - I hope you had a lovely Christmas/festive season and have a brilliant New Year.
2011 already?*
Blimey.
*Yes I know it's technically still December, but go with it people!
2011 already?*
Blimey.
*Yes I know it's technically still December, but go with it people!
Sunday, 5 December 2010
Friday, 26 November 2010
You Know It When You See It?
I recently had dinner with an actor-friend of mine, Joe Jameson. Amongst the 'oh how's so-and-so doing? Any castings coming up? How's the family doing?' chat, the conversation found its way round to the difficulty of knowing, as an audience member, critic, or awards-judge, what impact a director has had on a production.
I mean, unless you've ever been in a rehearsal room (which vary enormously from production to production, company to company and director to director), how can you tell what a director does?
What does a director do?
In some ways it might sound utterly bizarre for me, as a director, to even raise the question. But I have often found myself watching the final runs of a play I've been working on for weeks/months and wondering where I finish and the work of the actors and production team begins. The line is so blurred. Theatre is so collaborative, you feed off each other's ideas and imaginations, and - quite rightly - the actors and stage managers/hands must end up with ownership. They, after all, have to live that show night after night.
For me, I think the role of the director really is as a visionary (apologies for the poncy-ness of that statement) and facilitator. You have to have the idea for how to approach the production in the first place, choose the actors, and facilitate them towards their understanding of the text/character/world. Also, you work closely with designers (set, costume, lighting, sound) to create that world. For me, the audience experience is particularly important - I like to plot the experience from the moment they enter the auditorium, using particular lighting, soundscape, music, even pre-show movement with the actors, to create the atmosphere of the play. When I was working on 'Someone Who'll Watch Over Me' I specifically remember agonising over the choice of exit music, as I dithered over the way I wanted people to feel as they left the theatre. I was adamant that I didn't want silence, and after the ordeal of the play I felt that music with some kind of uplift was essential.
But all these decisions are not necessarily always made by a director. And once the show has opened, it can take on a very different form after a period of performance - as a natural response to how it's been received.
So does that make my job redundant? And how do you assess the quality of a director?
I guess you know it when you see it.
I mean, unless you've ever been in a rehearsal room (which vary enormously from production to production, company to company and director to director), how can you tell what a director does?
What does a director do?
In some ways it might sound utterly bizarre for me, as a director, to even raise the question. But I have often found myself watching the final runs of a play I've been working on for weeks/months and wondering where I finish and the work of the actors and production team begins. The line is so blurred. Theatre is so collaborative, you feed off each other's ideas and imaginations, and - quite rightly - the actors and stage managers/hands must end up with ownership. They, after all, have to live that show night after night.
For me, I think the role of the director really is as a visionary (apologies for the poncy-ness of that statement) and facilitator. You have to have the idea for how to approach the production in the first place, choose the actors, and facilitate them towards their understanding of the text/character/world. Also, you work closely with designers (set, costume, lighting, sound) to create that world. For me, the audience experience is particularly important - I like to plot the experience from the moment they enter the auditorium, using particular lighting, soundscape, music, even pre-show movement with the actors, to create the atmosphere of the play. When I was working on 'Someone Who'll Watch Over Me' I specifically remember agonising over the choice of exit music, as I dithered over the way I wanted people to feel as they left the theatre. I was adamant that I didn't want silence, and after the ordeal of the play I felt that music with some kind of uplift was essential.
But all these decisions are not necessarily always made by a director. And once the show has opened, it can take on a very different form after a period of performance - as a natural response to how it's been received.
So does that make my job redundant? And how do you assess the quality of a director?
I guess you know it when you see it.
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