(4 / 5)
There is something incredibly sad about the fact that The Mountaintop is one of a rare number of plays in Wales featuring an all-black cast. Its director, Abdul Shayek, laments as much: “It is 2017 and the fact that this hasn’t happened more often makes me frustrated and sad”. There should be no reason why this is the case. Both the narrative and the performance in this production are of such a high quality. Yet there is a tension bubbling at the heart of it that is so unsettlingly relevant.
The Mountaintop is a fictional depiction of Martin Luther King’s last night on earth. The action takes place in a single room – Room 306 of the Lorraine Motel, outside which the civil rights activist gets shot on April 4th, 1968. The set is no bigger than this – literally the size of a hotel room – making it extremely close, both claustrophobic and intimate. It allows us, the audience, to become privy to Dr King’s final hours in such fine and emotional detail. We see the anguish, laughter, fear and tenacity etched on the face of Mensah Bediako (King) at every turn. Such is the verisimilitude of Katori Hall’s script that there is even time to hear the great man himself go to the toilet, much to the amusement of the school group that had come along to watch. This level of authenticity, played out in real time, allows the conversation between King and hotel maid Camae (Rebecca Carrie) to flow naturally and build organically, with impressive results. The two actors bounce off one another brilliantly. Their timing and pace are perfectly attuned. They appear so comfortable in their working relationship, and so at ease with their characters. It makes for some excellent exchanges, fizzing with sexual chemistry and fermenting emotional intensity.
The success of their relationship helps concentrate The Mountaintop on a solid foundation. It helps to retain its integrity as it progresses into what could be considered surrealism. Without giving too much away, a dramatic twist sees the introduction of a heavenly dimension, bringing a sharp focus onto the reality of King’s impending death and his relationship with God. I liked the fact that Hall plays with our expectations, imaging God as both black and feminine. This is a God who is contactable, reachable through the hotel phone. Such is the bizarre nature of this section, King even has a conversation with Her. Yet it is testament to the quality of The Mountaintop’s writing and acting that it never runs off the rails. It is all part of the bigger message which comes into sharp focus at the play’s conclusion.
It is impossible to leave the theatre without responding, in some way, to The Mountaintop’s final scene. A powerful poem – “The Baton Passes On” – begins a subtle change in focus as its message is not only directed at King but at the audience too. Once Carrie finishes this piece, Bendiako stands on a plinth, addressing the audience directly. He evokes the great oratory skills of King to give an emotive speech which leaves you in no doubt about the need to respond. It is an arresting, challenging and profoundly affecting moment. On reflection, it also brings into sharp focus the continuing injustice of Shayek’s observation.
The Mountaintop is a rallying cry for each of us to be the change. It is an excellent production that surely signals for greater diversity in the theatre industry. There is a need for greater representation of minorities on stage, and on this evidence, this should certainly be the case. With an exceptional script, an immersive set, and a highly talented cast, The Mountaintop deserves much wider recognition. So, Welsh theatre industry, support more creative people from BAME backgrounds. On this evidence, you won’t regret it.
Category Archives: Theatre
Review: Little Wolf by LUCID at Chapter
(4 / 5)
Introduction
Well, hold on to your hats theatergoers! Little Wolf by LUCID theatre company is going to shake you up a bit.
Little Wolf written and directed by LUCID’s founder Swansea-born Stephen Harris, is a reworking of Ibsen’s classic 1894 play Little Eyolf. The action takes place in contemporary Norway and the dialogue reflects that with references to Facebook and GPS for example.
It is surprising, when considering 21st-century attitudes that Ibsen was a very provocative writer for his time and often felt foul of censorship and Victorian prudity. Simon Harris revitalises Ibsen with his “in yer face” treatment. Subtleties that you find in Ibsen’s play regarding the very close relationship between supposedly half-siblings Freddie and Asta, is transformed to Rita asking her husband,, “Did you fuck her?” No question of ambiguity there.
Ibsen wrote Little Eyolf in 1894, late on in his writing career, and at a time he was moving away from Naturalistic to Expressionist drama. This is a very expressionist production. It purveys an atmosphere which is both dreamlike and nightmarish. The starkness of its setting, the plot and structure is episodic , the expletives in the dialogue and the acting bordering on overacting at times are more closely linked with Strindberg than how we think of Ibsen.
Little Eyolf, compared to other Ibsen classic drama, is not performed as often as “A Doll’s House”, “Hedda Gabler” and “Peer Gynt”. The one recent exception that stands out is Richard Eyre’s Almeida Theatre 2016 production which The Guardian’s critic Michael Billington described as “shockingly intense”. That’s where the problem lies in terms of its comparative rareness of performance, as it is a very demanding play to watch. Demanding in terms of its emotional ferocity.
Design and Direction
At the start of the performance, the audience is greeted with the sounds of birds tweeting and children playing. The stage design is basically simple but works very effectively. It consists of children’s toys scattered centre stage with the most prominent item being a child’s railway set. A wardrobe is placed upstage left and this plays a very important part in the story later on. Upstage right is the only door. A stool is the only other significant object. The lighting is used very effectively, sometimes evoking the dreamlike atmosphere that I have already alluded to.
Attention to detail has been paid in terms of the selected music – Norwegian children’s songs and rhymes, and the wearing of contemporary Norwegian casual attire. Both contribute to creating a sense of realism that the action is taking place in Norway.
One of the features that I particularly like was the use of a Robert Lepage-like video screen projected the entire width of the stage and located upstage, which is used often at the end of a scene. An example of this is underwater scenes after the announcement of Eyolf’s death by drowning. Another time is was used when Freddie was reminiscing with Asta some childhood experiences which had a young boy and girl playing in the background on the projected screen.
I also like the symbolic way the railway track was slowly being picked up by Freddie after Wolf had drowned. Railway tracks symbolise a journey and the retrieving of Wolf’s toy represents the ending of his life’s journey.
Symbolism also features, (as it does in the Ibsen play), in the use of water-lilies to indicate rebirth and regeneration.
The Cast
The talented cast is uniformly good with Gwydion Rhys as Freddie taking the honours. His overwrought delivery of the artistically temperamental Freddie was very believable.
Alex Clatworthy as Freddie’s sexually frustrated wife Rita grows into the part and delivered a piercing delivery of sarcasm and irony mixed with ferocious intensity . When Wolf is missing, she welcomes the excitement of the event over her mundane day to day existence.
Melangell Dolma plays Asta, Freddie’s believed half-sister has a more understated role which she manages to portray well.
The final member of the cast, John-Paul Macleod as Lars, (a departure from the name of the character in Little Eyolf – Borghejm brings a comedic element to the production. Instead of the engineer in Ibsen’s version, Lars is a computer nerd and a candidate for twit of the year. Bordering on overacting at times, (reasonable in an expressionist play), he gets nearly all the laughs, although at the end shows a sensitivity when referring to Wolf that was very touching.
The cast works at its best in the most highly charged scenes. Some of the more quieter passages are a little too passive for my liking. Possibly, this is by way of contrast to the angry angstful interplay which exaggerates the passivity of these scenes.
Little Wolf vs. Little Eyolf
Lasting only 90 minutes, Little Wolf is roughly two thirds of the duration of the Ibsen play. Inevitably certain elements of the story have to be left out. The most dramatic departure is the absence of the important role of the Rat-Wife, who is only mentioned in the third person in the Little Wolf version. The character is based on the Pied Piper because she has charmed all the rats in the locality into a boat and drowned them in the fjord. The comparison between the unwanted rats and the unwanted Eywolf is clearly apparent. This part is a great opportunity for a character actress as exemplified by the lauded performance by Eileen Walsh at the Almeida last year. Ibsen wrote ambivalent roles; he wasn’t one for archetypes. The Rat-woman helps to show this ambivalence, but Simon Harris manages to capture this within his script. Rita is a case in point. At times she is monumentally sarcastic to Freddie, although he undoubtedly deserved it. She mocks his writing about orcs and other monsters when later she praises his artistic talent.
The sexual tension is considerably more explicit in the Little Wolf production. Nothing is left to the imagination. In fact the strong language does become a little grating at times and I felt that a little more restraint wouldn’t have softened the power of the dialogue.
Such restraint was more apparent in the interaction between Freddie and Asta which reveals their complicated relationship.
Lars’s character transforms Little Wolf into high farce in places, and I am not convinced that this sits comfortably with the intensity of this highly charged play. Having said that the scene where Rita is trying to have sex with Lars up against the wardrobe where Freddie has retreated, when interrupted by the arrival of Asta is highly amusing.
Fundamentally, the story remains intact. The guilt felt, primarily through the incapacity of Freddie and Rita’s baby son, through an act of negligence whilst pursuing animalistic sexual urges had taken their mind of the safety of their boy and continued after Wolf’s drowning. Freddie’s dramatic decline afterwards, retreating into his own world, hiding away in the wardrobe. His searching for something symbolised by his systematically tearing up the stage – searching but not finding until Rita’s triumphant rationalisation of their situation in the final scene.
The ending is even more open than Ibsen’s version. In Little Eyolf, Rita and Freddie devote themselves to helping the local orphan children; the same kids that could have been responsible for Eyolf’s drowning. Simon Harris realises that this wouldn’t be a realistic scenario today and ops for a decision for the couple to move away from atheir and make a new start elsewhere. However, I feel that I am more confident that Ibsen’s complicated couple would have a better chance of moving on than Little Wolf’s pair.
Conclusion
“LUCID makes vivid, urgent must-see theatre..” the playlist boasts, and this is fulfilled in this production. The concentrated power, relentless, austere, urgent nature of the Ibsen play has been retained in Little Wolf. People today should be able to identify with the issues that Freddie and Rita face, and, although not perfect in its delivery, I can certainly recommend it to an audience, I guarantee will not be bored.
Photography credits: Jorge Lizalcde
4 stars
For ages 14+ for pervasive language throughout and strong adult themes.
Wheelchair access
The show tours South Wales during late October and November 2017.
For venues and timings please see my preview at getthechance.wales/2017/10/18/preview-of-henrik-ibsens-little-wolf-by-lucid/
An Interview with Fio’s Artistic Director, Abdul Shayek.
Hi Abdul, would you mind by starting by giving a quick background of yourself for our readers?
Yes of course! I moved from London to Wales in 2011 and worked for National Theatre Wales as a creative associate. In 2013 I left and started my own new projects – I created Fio from the foundations of an organisation I ran in London called Youth Of Creative Arts. Fio is based in Cardiff and is an arts charity with the aim of creating new interest in art projects and developing people within the arts.
At Fio, we want to make productions that start conversations over important issues, which can be seen with our previous productions as well as our currently-running Death and the Maiden. Fio’s motto is “Fio makes fearless theatre: work that tears down stereotypes and challenges injustice.”
Considering your move from London to Cardiff, did you personally feel that there was a need for a boost in cultural diversity in the Welsh arts scene?
When I moved to Wales I could see a hugely diverse community around me. But many culturally-diverse artists aren’t made prominent on the Welsh arts scene and aren’t given the same platforms as others. I created Fio to try and boost these people up and bring them an opportunity. Fio’s production last year, The Mountaintop, aimed to tackle race issues and how much they may or may not have changed. Despite being focused on the Black American community, it resonates across the world where there is underrepresent Afro-Caribbean community.
In a world concerned with TV, film and social media, do you worry that there is a struggle to keep theatre alive?
I don’t think theatre is going anywhere. The live nature and the fact the audience is involved in productions and are living it as the actors are has such a powerful impact. There is a bigger sense of real-life empathy that you don’t get in the same way through a screen. Therefore, theatre will not disappear. Historically, performance has always been a way to enable communities to hold a mirror up to themselves and allows them to purge themselves of some of their issues and questions. Theatre always provokes you to think about topical issues and debate. It’s a shared experience, you’re there as a group and you share the experience together.
What has it been like, being the director of a play that touches so many on a personal level? With themes like rape and abuse, there is a large responsibility placed on your shoulders.
As a production team, we are very concerned with supporting actors and audiences that could be affected by the themes the play raises. We want to talk about it but also provide a safe space for thinking around abuse and dealing with democracy after a dictatorship. Gender politics has a huge part to play in the show too. We want the production to force us to have those conversations. It’s been an interesting process as a creative team, thinking about how to do it right and how to safeguard those participating in those conversations in the first place. We want to do it in a way that is constructive. We’re going to have some Q&As with people who have experience civil war, rape and other themes of the play to enable the safe-guarded conversation. Also, on the 1st -3rd November we are running a female-only project. Fusion is meant to encourage a safe space for women to get together and respond to the personal themes we want to raise in discussions. It will be at St David’s Hall and will really delve into what being a female in wales is like.
The play is preoccupied with truth, democracy and dictatorships (as many as other themes). When regarding the world as we know it right now, what do you think topical themes such as these can do for cultural understanding of politics? Can they inspire change?
Yeah, the play tackles these themes but also tries to discuss issues on a personal level, such as abuse and raw torture. We want to ask: how does a whole nation recover with democracy after a dictatorship? How do victims move on from governmental abuse? Recent events such as the Weinstein case raises the conversation about issues such as abuse of power and the male-dominated world women have to live in. What happens when women are subjected to sexual abuse and how is it viewed through the lens of the mainstream? How can we empower women to feel like they can talk about it? We want to know how to identify and start being able to rectify issues of these nature.
Thanks for talking with me, Abdul.
Thanks.
Death and the Maiden is being shown in The Other Room, Cardiff from the 31st October until 11th November.
By Charlotte Clark
Review Wilkie Collins’ The Ghost’s Touch, New Theatre Cardiff by Barbara Hughes-Moore
Mr Cholmondley-Warner Does the Twilight Zone
I’m preternaturally inclined to appreciate – even in just a lexical way – any kind of theatrical, literary or musical group or production that has an exclamation point in the name. Examples include Wham!, Panic! At The Disco, Oliver!, Moulin Rouge!, and now Wilkie Collins’ TheGhost’s Touch !, the latest production by Rumpus Theatre Company, who are no strangers to the Gothic given their past theatrical dalliances with the stories of HP Lovecraft, HG Wells, and Edgar Allan Poe to name but a few.
The Ghost’s Touch! was based on Mrs Zant and the Ghost, an early work by Wilkie Collins, a writer who would later be heralded as the pioneer of the literary detective in his seminal 1859 novel The Woman in White. The Ghost’s Touch! centres on a similar mystery and subsequent investigation; it begins as Stephen Rayburn (Mark Homer), a widower in Victorian England, goes for a stroll in Kensington Gardens with his young daughter, Lucy. However, a sunny summer’s day grows scary indeed when Lucy spots a ghostly figure in the woods talking to someone who remains invisible to characters and audience alike. The figure turns out to be Mrs Zant (Terri Dwyer), a (not the) woman in black caught in a daily loop of grief for her husband’s loss; a scene that she word-perfectly re- enacts seemingly to thin air every morning as though experiencing it for the first time. As Rayburn grows progressively attached to, and entangled in, the enigma of this other-worldly woman, he begins to question the very foundations of his beliefs, principles, and even his sanity.
This production was a pleasant surprise for me, a long-time theatre-goer but first-time horror show attendee. Possibly this is because I didn’t find the show quite as spine chilling as advertised – except for the very first instant when, before the curtain rose, the lights went out and a child’s voice whispered ‘Daddy’ over and over again, to disturbing effect. It was reminiscent of The Empty Child , that most disquieting of Doctor Who episodes, in which a creepy kid clad in a gas mask eerily enquires ‘Are you my mummy?’ However, that frightening first minute was the scariest part of the show by far. It was rather grating to move from that alarming audio experience to a scene where Rayburn calmly and amiably relates his trip to the park that day.
Although it wasn’t exactly chilling, The Ghost’s Touch! proved to be quite atmospheric at times. Mrs Zant is introduced illuminated with light in a dark stage, disappearing only to coalesce a little closer to Rayburn (and the audience) each time (although occasionally you could hear the footsteps of the actor shuffling from place to place, which downplayed the horror just a tad). An effective theremin- esque score nicely accentuates the more unsettling moments of the piece. However, the upbeat jolly hockey sticks fourth-wall-breaking delivery of the narrator was jarring at times when juxtaposed with the spooky set and spectral sightings. At times it was less Wilkie Collins’ The Ghost’s Touch ! and more Mr Cholmondley-Warner does the Twilight Zone.
One of the more unusual features of this production is that it takes minimalism to its limit, a totally understandable approach for a small theatre company to take, especially on tour. Luckily, the actors’ skill and the story’s intrigue maintained tension and interest from start to finish. The set was simple in the extreme – swathed in midnight-black material and featuring a sole park bench as the only prop in sight. The rest is left to lighting, sound effects and acting. The latter two were well done – the sound effects in particular were the unsung (and unseen) heroes of the piece – but the former was rather lacking overall; the lighting could have been used to more consistently convey a creeping sense of dread, and left a lot to the imagination, which was already working pretty hard to cope with the stripped-down cast and spartan set. Despite this, the staging and direction was at times extremely effective, in particular during some scene transitions towards the end of the play (to elaborate further would involve spoilers) where the lighting finally reared its creative head.
A two-hander through and through, the dynamic duo of Mark Homer and Terri Dwyer were the only physical presences onstage, with the other characters (including Lucy, Mrs Zant’s brother-in-law John, and various housekeepers, landladies and officers of the law) appearing in audio form only. The voice acting was very well done, with Lucy and John Zant (the latter voiced by John Goodrum, who doubled – tripled? – as the show’s writer and director) being the stand-outs. The scarcity of actors on stage, as well as a practical necessity on tour, actually plays well into the plot, keeping you healthily suspicious of whatever you see, hear and believe. Magical elements clash with the mundane, leaving the audience in the dark (both literally and metaphorically) as to the truth of our increasingly perplexed protagonist; much like Rayburn, the audience too is swept into uncertainty and indecision.
Rayburn is not only our protagonist, but our fourth-wall-breaking narrator, and an unreliable one at that. Mark Homer thrives in a deceptively tricky role, providing a genial, grounded counterpoint to the ghostly goings-on. John Goodrum did a good job in remaining faithful to the soul of the source material whilst reconstructing it into a theatrical narrative – and, in my opinion, vastly improving it by exploiting the original’s more ambiguous supernatural subtext into something more explicitly eerie. For example, Mrs Zant’s written account of her eerie experiences – letters and diary entries often featuring in Gothic novels of the era – is thankfully removed from this adaptation, remoulded instead into dialogue and inference, which works much better in a theatrical context. Terri Dwyer portrays a complex, haunting portrait of a woman who feels both realistic and mysterious, and her chemistry with Mark Homer is palpable, believable and carries the story right through to the final curtain. This adaptation also elegantly restores a sense of agency in her character that the novel lacks – her literary counterpart asks the only (living) man in her life to judge her sanity, whereas her theatrical self has complete faith in her beliefs and experiences (much to the surprise of the sceptical Rayburn).
However, the narration frequently conflicted with the air of mystery the play was going for, and none of Rayburn’s exposition was effective enough to justify its existence. The actors were very capably displaying the evolving emotions of the piece, and the rest of the information could have been outlined in the synopsis, or inferred from the action. But the themes – loss, grief, and the road to recovery – are beautifully expressed through the actors’ heart-breaking performances.
Doubles, metaphorical and manifest, permeate the plot; grief splits a person in two – who they were before the loss, and who they are now. Grief is a thing which duplicates as it grows, and each act of mourning is doubled, replicated, and reflected back at the mourner. This production doesn’t shy away from these concepts, and in its own way demonstrates that the only truly terrifying thing isn’t the thought of being confronted by a ghost, but by what the ghost represents – a loved one gone forever. To delve deeper into double-dom would take us into spoiler territory, and this is the kind of story you should experience with as little information as possible.
Stripped and unusual but interesting and enjoyable, Wilkie Collins’ The Ghost’s Touch! was a rather unique theatre experience that was ultimately anchored by Terri Dwyer and Mark Homer’s great performances. It embodies the stand-out quote from 2015’s Crimson Peak , Guillermo del Toro’s gory Gothic elegy: ‘it’s not a ghost story, it’s a story with ghosts in it’. If you like your dread creeping and your horror introspective, this is the show for you.
Barbara Hughes-Moore
Review The Cherry Orchard, Sherman Theatre by Corrine Cox
(5 / 5)
Gary Owen and Rachel O’Riordan’s radical reimagining of Chekhov’s classic masterfully transports the narrative of The Cherry Orchard from pre-revolutionary Russia to early 1980’s Britain at the outset of the Thatcher regime. The parallels of the two landscapes, both on the cusp of societal upheaval, provides an apt setting for Owen’s exploration of class equalities, guilt and grief.
At the beginning of the play we meet Rainey, returning to the family home in West Wales and the memories of the son that continue to haunt her. With no money left and the future of their home increasingly uncertain, could an agreement with former tenant Lewis save the property from impending auction?
The one set staging creates an intimacy and surprising relatability between the family and the audience which transcends class preconceptions through the sense of a shared space which we co-inhabit over the course of the 3 hours. The clever use of space enables us to effortlessly join Anya in the Orchard, envisage the view down to the shore and experience the poignancy of Rainey and Dottie’s moment in the grounds. The presence of Josef is hauntingly conjured throughout.
Whilst Richard Mylan and Alexandria Riley provide us with a great deal of the humour throughout, it is Riley’s Dottie who most poignantly captures the extent of the injustices that class inequality can create; for in a society where time is money, who is afforded the luxury of the time to grieve? Juxtaposed with just how detrimental this ‘indulgence’ has rendered Rainey – a decade of alcoholism and guilt – we are left to un-judgingly straddle the vast void between the extremities of each’s experience.
A powerful, thought-provoking piece and one not to be missed.
Cast
Simon Armstrong
Denise Black
Matthew Bulgo
Morfydd Clark
Hedydd Dylan
Richard Mylan
Alexandria Riley
Creative
By Anton Chekhov
A re-imagining by Gary Owen
Director Rachel O’Riordan
Designer Kenny Miller
Lighting Designer Kevin Treacy
Composer and Sound Designer Simon Slater
Casting Director Kay Magson CDG
Get the Chance member Corrine Cox.
Review The Cherry Orchard, Sherman Theatre by Kevin Johnson
This is not a new version of the Chekhov classic, but a ‘re-imagining’ by Welsh writer Gary Owen, of Killology & Iphigenia In Splott fame. Owen relocates it from 1890’s Russia to the Pembroke coast in 1982, just prior to the Falklands War, which makes for a very interesting choice.
It feels like every dysfunctional family drama you’ve ever seen, until you realise Chekhov originated the idea of real characters, with real problems, talking like real people.
Family matriarch Rainey, who has crawled into a bottle after the death of her son over a decade ago, followed soon after by the suicide of her husband, is virtually dragged back to the family home from London by Anya, her youngest daughter. Her self-destructive lifestyle has lead to the family home on the Pembroke coast being auctioned off to pay the debts.
Val, her eldest daughter, has held things together, but they need Raynie’s permission (and signature) to save it. All agree that the only viable option is to sell off the ancestral cherry orchard for redevelopment, but will she see it that way?
This play is incredibly funny and well-worth seeing, if only for the way Owen makes it so accessible to Welsh eyes. The ‘Russian peasants’ now come from housing estates, the decaying aristocracy are English interlopers, and the Communist revolutionaries are now Thatcherites, sweeping the past away without a thought or concern.
At the heart of the play is the idea that the future is farther away than we hope, while the past is always closer than we’d like. The characters here are continually haunted, not by spirits, but by the ghosts of memories, taunting them with remembrance.
Rainey tries to forget through excess, her guilt at losing her son gnawing away at her, like a rat sown inside her skin. In the end it causes her to take drastic action, and Denise Black brings all this out in a masterful performance that makes you feel sorry for her, even while she’s being a monster to all and sundry.
The entire cast take their moments when offered, yet still make this a true ensemble piece. Morfydd Clark is sweetly sensual as the young Anya, while Hedydd Dylan as her elder sister Val, shows us a woman who tries to run other people’s lives, but fails at her own.
Simon Armstrong as Gabe, Rainey’s brother, is amusingly ineffectual, yet quietly sharp. When Val talks about Rainey not telling him about her plans to leave he replies “We’ve been brother & sister half a century. Through awful things. Do you think saying ‘goodbye’ makes any difference?”
Alexandria Riley gives us a Dottie that is down to earth yet shows the love/hate relationship she has with the family, while Richard Mylan is funny, while also imparting a wise naïveté to Ceri.
Mathew Bulgo, given the task of Lewis, the ‘poor boy made good’, effects a performance of subtlety that defies the historical villain the role has been seen as. With the insults he endures from the others, and denied the role of ‘family saviour’ by Rainey, it’s hard not to feel sympathy for him.
Writer Gary Owen conveys a situation full of layers, and also offers some nice ironies. Ceri’s expectations of Margaret Thatcher getting the blame for the Falklands War being one, Gabe’s job offer as an investment banker another.
When you add all this to Rachel O’Riordan’s deft direction, Kenny Miller’s intriguingly skewed set, and Kevin Tracey’s ingenious lighting, the Sherman Theatre demonstrates yet again that it is punching well above its weight in the theatre world.
There is so much going on here that I actually re-read the script in one go afterwards, and was still as gripped as I was by seeing it. The play is funny, ironic, witty, sarcastic and quietly heartbreaking. It is a story of loss, of people, places and things, and how memories both haunt and define us.
As F. Scott Fitzgerald once observed: ‘We beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past‘.
http://www.shermantheatre.co.uk/performance/theatre/the-cherry-orchard/
Kevin Johnson
Review Of Mice and Men, August 012 by Troy Lenny
All photographs credit Studio Canno
(4 / 5)
Of Mice and Men is a story of loneliness and misunderstandings. I remember studying this literary art in high school, but I didn’t notice the finer details, only the outline.
On Wednesday I watched Of Mice and Men presented by August 012, at Chapter ArtCentre. The outline of the story is two friends, George Milton and Lennie Small who are two workers in the Great Depression. To escape their cruel reality they share a distant dream that persuades them they will own their and land, “an’ live of the fat of the land.” This dream swirls colours of great happiness into their lives.
I do not want to cut curiosity out of the plot, so I will express little of this element. There are two stern problems blocking their dream. Lenny has an intellectual disability, and naively often strokes problems at work. And George and Lennie need ‘stake’ (money) from work so they can whirl their dream into reality.
I rate this production four stars. Why? Because the production was extraordinary. It had a partial modern theme which drew out the connection that many of the problems in Of Mice and Men still exist today, if you thin your eyes. Additionally, the production style conflates imagination with reality through dreamy description and because the audience’s seats are placed on an empty stage an immersive reality surrounds you (plus you may be able to play cards with the characters!)
I would recommend anyone reading this to book a ticket, and visit the world Of Mice and Men because its performance style will enlighten tenebrous learnings. One element of the production I noticed during this production was all of the characters were Greatly Depressed, but they wiped their tears and some tried to smile and others frowned. For example: Callous Curley, always had a curled fist most likely because he felt lonely, but due to his expected masculine role he couldn’t express his feminine emotions so he was always steaming frustration. Consequently, Curley’s wife felt lonely, and wandered looking for company and due to expected feminine roles she likely thought the only way to attract a man’s attention was by swirling hips.
I would like to thank all involved in the production Of Mice and Men for their creative minds, and extraordinary performance style – it was striking.
Troy Lenny
An interview with Chris Durnall
The Director of Get the Chance, Guy O’Donnell recently got the chance to chat with director Chris Durnall. We discussed his career to date, his new project focusing on the BSL aspects within Tribes by Nina Raine and his thoughts on theatre in Wales.
Hi Chris great to meet you, can you give our readers some background information on yourself please?
I’m Artistic Director of Company of Sirens and also produce work under the name Winterlight. Company of Sirens stage Welsh premiers of powerful contemporary plays. Productions include Anthony Neilson’s Stitching and The Censor, Philip Ridley’s Tender Napalm, Mercury Fur and Dark Vanilla Jungle, Manfred Karge’s Conquest of the South Pole and Jennifer Haley’s The Nether.
Chris in rehearsals for Jennifer Haley’s The Nether
Plus new plays by Welsh authors Ian Rowlands, Troyanne, and Sean Tyrone by Mark Ryan. Winterlight as our sister company specialise in new work that focuses on autism and disability issues. We have recently completed a trilogy of plays tracing the life of an autistic individual Matthews Passion 2013, Touch Blue Touch Yellow 2015 and Quiet Hands 2017.
Matthews Passion
I was Artistic Director of Theatr Ffynnon for eight years working with adults with physical and learning difficulties. I also teach acting, deliver one to one sessions and freelance as a director. I was previously a professional actor for eighteen years.
So what got you interested in theatre and the arts?
Well once you get the call it’s difficult to consider doing anything else. I went to the theatre all the time when I was younger and devoured plays, often learning whole roles just for fun. When I went to drama college I was amazed by many student’s lack of interest or lack of curiosity. It was really disappointing. Having said that drama college was the happiest time of my life. I still love those people. The arts for me are split between those who dabble with varying degrees of success and those that have to do this without an option. Time and circumstances pretty soon determine which camp you are in.
Company of Sirens with the support of the Arts Council of Wales will be exploring the signing aspects of performance focusing on its use within the play Tribes by Nina Raine during October/November 2017 with support from Disability Arts Wales. Why have you chosen this as your latest production?
I wanted to explore the potential of non-verbal communication within performance. Non- verbal narrative. I believe drama lies between text and that words are often an avoidance technique to avoid and circumvent real communication.
The play Tribes fits the companies remit in terms of powerful new drama and also through the two deaf characters use of BSL within the play, helps support the other strand of my work which is about empowerment and the raising of awareness.
What personal knowledge do you have of theatre for deaf audiences?
My work with Theatr Ffynnon was concerned with giving a voice to the disempowered. We delivered projects through the medium of film, theatre, animation, visual art, music and poetry in order to explore routes of communication appropriate to our members and participants. The purity of their work moved me deeply and taught me a lot. We never patronised our members and listened to what they had to say as creative people. If I can merge this approach with professional actors working with a contemporary text I will be happy. In the play Tribes the deaf protagonist’s family communicate through cliché and verbal aggression. They speak in platitudes based on insecurity and often a sense of failure. Billy and his partially deaf girlfriend Sylvia communicate directly through gesture, eye contact and body language. We recognise the adage “actions speak louder than words”
Get the Chance works to support a diverse range of members of the public to access cultural provision Are you aware of any barriers to equality and diversity for either Welsh or Wales based artists/creatives?
I worry that work may be compromised by having to fit into funding priorities. It’s a question of approach. There has been a surge of work and support encouraging equality and diversity and that has been wonderful. I do believe that within this framework there should be scope for “arts for arts sake” whereby funders say we like your work, we trust your intent, go and create. I feel those times may be gone forever due largely to our culture of accountability.
There are a range of organisations supporting Welsh and Wales based artists and creatives, I wonder if you feel the current support network and career opportunities feel ‘healthy’ to you?
See above. Its great the doors are opening up but I do believe any art form moves forward through the taking of risks and a culture of experimentation. Diversity need not suffer but our artists need full creative freedom in order to create the extra – ordinary.
If you were able to fund an area of the arts in Wales what would this be and why?
Fund the risk takers and chance takers. Back the artists themselves and allow them the freedom to create
What excites you about the arts in Wales? What was the last really great thing that you experienced that you would like to share with our readers?
The amount of young companies trying to work within a difficult culture gives me hope.
Pearson and Brooks, The Persians, National Theatre Wales.
The work of Pearson and Brooks (The Iliad and the Persians) for National Theatre Wales. Directors who try to break the mould like Mathilde Lopez. Goodcopbadcop’s experiments. Writers such as Ian Rowlands, Tim Rhys and Gary Owen are producing great work. A thriving experimental dance scene
Many thanks for your time Chris.
Preview of Little Wolf, Lucid Theatre. A retelling of Little Eyolf by Henrik Ibsen, Roger Barrington.
Little Wolf is a revision of a comparatively rarely performed 1894 play Little Eyolf by Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen. LUCID’s new production tours venues in South Wales in late October and November 2017 and promises to be a worthwhile enterprise.
It has been given a contemporary revision, by LUCID’s award-winning director Simon Harris.
PLOT OF LITTLE WOLF FROM LITTLE EYOLF BY IBSEN
The action is set over a period of thirty-six hours at the home of Alfred and Rita Allmers. Alfred is an occasional teacher, intellectual and landowner. Their home is located near a fjord and some distance from the nearest town, thereby emphasising Ibsen’s naturalistic style of people influenced largely by the environment they live in. Their isolation from the remainder of the community also extends to their own marital relationship, which is on a steep downward curve due to the event that had caused their nine-year old son Eyolf to be partly paralysed. The boy’s handicap having been due to him falling off a table in babyhood, where he had been left whilst his parent’s engaged in making love. The feeling of guilt over this accident provides the backdrop to the events that ensue.
THE PRODUCTION
LUCID was formed in 2012 by Simon Harris and its aims are:
- To act as a catalyst and resource for artist development
- to be a producer of innovative and distinctive theatre projects
Simon has an impressive C.V. having been associated with the National Theatre and the Soho Theatre Company as well as Artistic Director of Script Cymru the national company for new writing in Wales. In 2009, Simon won a highly-prized Creative Wales Award to enable him to develop new and innovative theatre projects.
INTERVIEW
I interviewed Simon about Little Wolf.
RB: Little Wolf is a comparatively rarely performed Ibsen classic. Why do you think that is?
SH: Well, Little Wolf is my version of the Ibsen classic Little Eyolf, and A Doll’s House, Hedda Gabler, Peer Gynt , these are the really well known plays, and Little Wolf comparatively, certainly in Wales, (I’m not aware of any productions in Wales to be honest), but comparatively in the UK, it is less performed. The peculiar thing is that when I speak to people who know the play, – I bumped into a couple of people in London, friends of mine who are directors a couple of weeks ago, and they said, “What are you doing?” and I said that I was doing this play based on Little Eyolf and they all went, “I love Little Eyolf!”, so I think part of it is that it is a challenging play in its content for some people, but it’s also an incredibly beautiful play –
RB: Yes, it’s a very intense play, I presume there is no interval, do you think the audience is emotionally able to cope with that, because it is a very demanding play on the emotions isn’t it?
SH: Well I think audiences these days are up for emotional engagement. If you look at the kind of television that people are tuning into these days, they’re sucking up the box sets, they really love the kind of deep engagement with characters they really get, and I think that this is the kind of offer that this play makes, it kinds of opens up its soul and lets you in a really profound and beautiful way. I think that this is a time when people are looking for an opportunity to empathaise and reflect a bit more, and if you compare with what is going on in the world at this moment, you know there are a lot of extremes in the world at this moment, and this is a play about the nuances of human behaviour and our ability to work through adversity towards a more hopeful position, so I think that aspect of the play that people should welcome.
RB: Going on from that, I know that the Little Eyolf play has an open ending, slightly optimistic, but it’s an ending that in 1894 when the play was written, but do you think it works well today, because the Allmers were landowners, quite wealthy people that would devote their wealth to the poor, what with a Social Security system which does that today? Do you think that translates well today, or have you done something different with it?
SH: Yes, I have done something different with it, so my connection with the play goes back a long time. I happened to see a version of it on the BBC, it’s a lovely production and I didn’t know the play at all, I didn’t know about Ibsen, but as soon as I landed on the channel that it was on, I was hooked, I was deeply deeply hooked into it and it made a lasting impression on me, so when I came to thinking about working on a new piece, I thought I would have a look at that, and when I read it I was quite surprised to see how different it was from the memory that I have of it. There were still things that were incredibly powerful and I thought very urgent and relevant, and some aspects of the play that felt very awkward to me – something that a modern audience wouldn’t identify with, so that’s why I felt that it was very important to do a different version of it, rather than a modern day version of an old play.
RB: Little Eyolf is always a play that has divided critics. I know the Ibsenist Michael Meyer regarded it as his favourite Ibsen play, and there are others who rate this at the top of the tree… Now I understand that your working is set in the contemporary day and is set in Norway?
SH: Yes.
RB: Did you consider moving the setting to Wales for example. Would it work?
SH: There is something similar about the non-conformist culture. Ibsen was fascinated about how we live, and the sometimes self-deluding behaviours that we have and hypocrisies that we have, so I think that may resonate fairly strongly for a Wales with a Non-Conformist chapel tradition. I didn’t really feel that gain that much from the setting of it in Wales. I’ve seen that done a few times, but I think it shows up some tensions in the production, and I always thought the best thing to do with it, and I’ve talked about this in one of the little films we’ve done on this on Facebook, is that we feel that we have absorbed the Norwegian culture aspect, but it’s not in your face, it’s not very overt,.
RB: I want to ask a question about Rita. She has been described as a monster, and one of the reasons why I like Ibsen is that he writes about very strong-willed heroines, I’m thinking about Svanhild in Love’s Comedy, Nora of course in A Doll’s House. How do you compare Rita to these heroines? Are you sympathetic to Rita, is she, in fact a heroine?
SH: I’m deeply sympathetic to her. I think that’s a very Victorian judgmental attitude to Rita to call her a monster. I think what is so difficult for people is that she is in a relationship with a man who is withdrawn from her, (and perhaps it’s a little more explicit in this play compared to the original), blames her conclusively for the past incidence that informs the whole of the play. Our version explores that much more comprehensively, and I think she is magnificent. She’s resilient, she’s loyal, she’s intelligent, she’s witty, she’s driven and the main thing is that she has a foundation in the love the two characters had for each other. She holds on to that. She knows what that meant in the past, and is the one who insists on it repeatedly in the play. That makes her strong. I think there’s an incredible resilience in her and it’s a beautiful journey in a way in that it moves from adversity to a new honesty and ability to move forward.
RB: Finally, I would like to ask about LUCID. Perhaps you could tell us something about the Company?
SH: This is the first theatre production of the company. We’ve been doing a variety of different works, some of it behind the scenes, working upon developing people, artists’ development, leadership development work, but I also had a piece by Chekhov that I developed as well, when I did a contemporised version of an early Chekhov play that I was interested in, so that might be something for the future. It’s early days for the company. The thing that interests me at the moment is the value of old stories. I’m slightly concerned that in the rush towards a more experiential theatre presentation. that we might lose touch with some of the dramatic traditions as well, but it doesn’t mean to say that because you interested in the dramatic tradition that it’s necessarily old-fashioned or out of date or anything else. The tradition goes back two thousand years, and I’m worried sometimes that we might be throwing the baby out with the bath water. I believe in a very pluralistic theatre culture, this work is about re-framing old stories in new urgent relevant ways. Hopefully in a way that audiences will appreciate and engage with.
RB: And presumably with the title of your company in mind, lucidity is something that you empathise in the delivery?
SH: Well I’d love that. That’s what we aim for. The LUCID name came about because I set the company up when what I considered was a lack of dialogue around what was happening in theatre, and I wanted to get people talking and thinking about some of these issues , so it was a kind of hint towards a hope for greater clarity.
RB: Thanks for your time.
Little Wolf is a rare opportunity to see a reworking of a great Ibsen play. The contemporary setting should resonate with the trials and tribulations that many of us go through in our daily life today. Ibsen was a very forward-thinking playwright for his time and his themes are as powerful today as they were when written one hundred and twenty years ago.
This promises to be an exciting production and I would urge you view it as it goes on tour around South Wales. The dates are as follows:
CARDIFF:
Chapter 20, 21, 23 – 28 October at 7.30
https://www.chapter.org/little-wolf
Post-show talk after the performance of the 23rd
SWANSEA:
Volcano Theatre 1-4, and 7-11 November at 7.30
http://www.volcanotheatre.co.uk/whats-on/little-wolf
BRECON
Theatr Brycheiniog 16 November at 7.30 and 17 November at 2
https://theatrbrycheiniog.ticketsolve.com/shows/873578721?locale=en-GB
NEWPORT
The Riverfront 22 November at 7.45
https://tickets.newportlive.co.uk/en-GB/shows/little%20wolf/info
Suitability: 14+
Duration: 90 mins (no interval)
BACKGROUND MATERIAL
Little Wolf is a vital, intense and blisteringly funny retelling of Ibsen's Little Eyolf.
Touring Wales this Autumn!@Arts_Wales_ pic.twitter.com/WqByKDZnTU— Lucid (@lucidtheatreco) September 12, 2017
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZmGDzDKzWI
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbOodTNGP24
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Eyolf
https://lucidevent.wordpress.com/about/
REVIEW: ‘SLAVA’S SNOW SHOW’ BY GEMMA TREHARNE-FOOSE
(4 / 5)
Slava’s snowshow is completely original and unlike anything you might have seen before, although it may be triggering for those with a serious clown aversion (thanks to Stephen King and his fondness for drain-based terror!).
Polunin’s production straddles the traditional theatre show, mime, the avant garde, the clowning niche and pure spectacle. The resulting concoction is one that surprises, delights and tickles the audience. Balloons crop up here and there. A rocking horse, stars and a moon, a music box, a swing. Beautifully designed props and scenery by Ivan Yarapolskiy and Dmitry Khamzin pick at your childhood memories (and at times – your nightmares!).
Slava’s snowshow does not have a narrative or a beginning, middle or an end. It’s actually hard to know where the vignettes and sketches will lead, but beneath the playful care-free demeanour of the show, every step, breath and look is careful, choreographed and deliberate.
An insignificant nod of a head, a wink, a snail’s pace trudge across the stage – the movements toe the line between tenderness and tragedy, laced with clownery and foolishness.
This production deliberately disrupts the frenetic pace and convention of many modern productions. It crosses the barriers between the audience and the action on stage and playfully invites adults to re-enter the colourful imaginarium of their youth.
You will instantly lower your guard, becoming absorbed in the wonder of the physicality and comic energy of the clowns the and sheer absurdity of the vignettes. But Slava’s snowshow truly succeeds in speaking to your inner child – and the sheer simplicity of this patchwork of comedy is effective and stunning.
The theatrical inspiration may have come from Chaplin, from Ukranian dramaturgs like Gogol and from street theatre and pantomime – but the language of Slava Polunin is completely universal.
The on stage action is part-dream, part-fantasy and complete spectacle. Polunin’s aim was to fuse together the tragic and the comic and create a kaleidoscope of colour, events and sound. His intention was to revitalise the way modern audiences respond to clowning…the result is more personal, more intelligent and intriguing than anything you might have experienced at a birthday party or witnessed on cheesy Saturday night TV.
The scenes created on stage are wonderfully inventive – a bed becomes a boat, a coat stand becomes a person and curtains become snowy rocks. The action on stage spills out into the audience frequently. Slava’s clowns walk over the backs of audience chairs, a giant cobweb is passed over the heads of the audience and without spoiling any surprises – there is carnage in the theatre at the end of the show. I feel sorry for the people brushing that up!
Even if clowns really aren’t your cup of tea – this is unmissable.
4 stars
***
Type of show: Theatre
Title: Slava’s Snow Show
Venue: Wales Millennium Centre (Cardiff)
Dates: 17-21 October
Created and staged by Slava Polunin
Stage Technician: Ivan Yarapolskiy
Sound Technician: Alexey Lavrentyev
Light Technician: Alexander Iakolev