The title might be a little misleading. If you are reading this and you think: I’m taken, why would I need to learn how to flirt? Well, my friend, this show is for everyone in every status, of every gender, every age – everyone.
How to Flirt is a satirical seminar from the Drag King, Steve Porters. We are taken through a casual lecture, using the acrostic of “BIRDS” to deliver the best way to get your next partner. Full of dancing, puns, comedy, music and projection, this all rounder show is comical but full of importance.
Steve is what can be described, by today’s youth, as a wannabe “Roadman” or, from back in my day, a “Chav”. Featuring all the physical characteristics of Drag Kings, the make up is impeccable, giving the illusion of masculine features, a body suit to give the illusion of a male torso and general mannerisms and movement to suggest something stereotypical male. The funny thing is, Steve is meant to be a satirical copy of one of those men who think chat up lines work, but yet he still has charisma and a way of flirting with the ladies of the audience. I am only sad that he didn’t deem me attractive enough for a flirt – big thumbs down!
How to Flirt is full of audience participation, but a late night at Fringe is certainly not lacking in this. We are asked to engage, repeat chants, encouraged to talk to one another and it becomes riotous and raucous in just the right amount. We may not always feel the power of Steve’s flirt directly on us, but in a crowd of around 100, we all feel individual and like one of his mates.
The whole production is a painful belly laugh after belly laugh. It plays on the bad dates, on the stories told from dating apps and meeting strange people and plays on the awkwardness between Steve and the audience. Steve is full of confidence and is professional, slick and perfect in every single way.
The production is so well constructed, including any ad libs or improv that are so smooth that you barely notice them. It was a show that I never wanted to leave but sadly, all good things do.
And don’t think that this was just comedy – oh no. There were really important points touched upon. Steve takes these types of men and highlights situations that are creepy, insulting, issues of sexual assault and ensures that, through the laughter, this is clearly a political and feminist show touching on our societal issues. Steve highlights consent a lot, and this is important and meeting modern ideals. It makes it clear that this is non-negotiable in our world.
How to Flirt: The TED XXX Talk is comedy gold, but amongst this, Steve Porters has made strong, concrete feminist comments on today’s chauvinist societal issues.
Sometimes I’m a real easy sell. Give me some impressive puppetry, and I’m sold. But what I got from Bill’s 44th, was something else.
Bill’s 44th is a comical play about age. Bill is throwing himself a party and eagerly awaiting his guests. But when no one shows, he goes through a number of different emotions from sadness, to making the best of things, to drunk and high and reflection.
Bill is a puppet. He is orchestrated by two puppeteers, moving his torso, arms and head but legs and hands are from the puppeteers. Their faces are visible behind Bill but you forget almost instantly that they are there. Their movements, and movements from other puppeteers throughout as so smooth and precise that you very much forget actual humans are on stage.
There is sound and music but no talking; all the action and emotion is conveyed easily through Bill and we understand instantly. To get these across, movement and gestures are exaggerated but it didn’t feel false and very much as if we were breaking down the fourth wall.
Bill reminded me very much of a puppet version of Mr Bean; we can tell exactly what he is thinking, feeling and doing just by movements and gesture alone. Facial expressions, you’d think, would be vacant from a puppet with no eyes or general facial movement, but, somehow, he manages them. Call it talent of the puppeteers/creators, call it our imagination, call it both.
Bill’s journey is nothing short of a emotional roller coaster. We are excited, then we are sad; he makes the most of the situation and we laugh again, to suddenly fearing the dark emotions on stage and sadness at Bill’s reflection, to leaving in elation. We see a scene where we are moved through Bill’s life, birthday to birthday through a miniature version of him, where you begin to see his loneliness with age – something we may all experience. For a puppet, I felt extraordinary sadness for him and pure happiness when he in the end accepts himself and becomes his own friend.
Bill goes through a drunken, high moment, with walls becoming puppetry and moving in a sliding motion; balloons become people that destroy his house and make-out in the back; his crudite carrot becomes life-size. It is such an adventure, heightening all your feelings and making you fully belly laugh until you ache.
Bill’s 44th is so stupid – in a brilliant, hilarious way. It is stupid in the clever, comedic way – the way The Mighty Boosh, Mr Bean, Blackadder are all just silly, silly comedy. But it is also dark in places. It is also poignant and emotional. It is an all rounder. My favourite comment from the man next to me was “What the f did I just watch?” through tears and laughter – I missed a chance to tell him, “You, Sir, just watched pure perfection and genius”.
Everyone goes through that moment in life, whether triggered by something specific and significant, leaving for University or getting your first job as an adult; flying the nest can be hard but also very exciting.
Almost Adult takes this, based on the real life experiences of the writer, and runs with the idea. Our main and only performer decides its time to become an adult and moves from the rural north to the big smoke of London. Every approach she takes is positive; new job in an immersive bar, box room with a particularly anal housemate and the search for a boyfriend like Timothee Chalamet. Everything is positive, until it is not.
Almost Adult faces the two sides of growing up; the excitement of new things and independence but also the reality of life and how hard it can be. Our character wants to not hold hands with her family and distances herself, until things turn south and she realises that being an adult doesn’t mean not asking for help. At her job, a once golden paved bar floor with dinosaur dressed workers becomes a seedy, patriarchal power trip, where sexual assault is rife from her boss. Her flat mate is maybe over clean and stressed about this but our character doesn’t have the time for the boring parts of adulthood until she accepts her own flaws and laziness.
She’s enjoyable, she dances and has a laugh with us; her impressions of different characters are clear she brings us further into the story by interaction. All the issues culminate and we see a bubbly, positive person unmasked from seeing the reality of modern day life. From a cushy, middle class family, protected from the storm, when her leg is touched by her manager, her colleague is further sexually assaulted and the female CEO won’t help, she soon realises that the feminist movement hasn’t solved the world’s problems and that there are still there, if not more.
The production felt very poignant about the realities of adulthood and life. As someone who moved alone for university and then to live in London 12 years ago, I still remember that feeling of sheer excitement to break free and be my own person but the trepidation and fear of this. I forever tried to ensure my outlook was positive, but the home sickness, some realities (though I maybe wasn’t as naive as this character in some respects) and hardness of adulthood slowly crept up on me.
With many stories from Sarah Everard, to the Me Too movement, women are sexually assaulted almost daily. It isn’t uncommon to think that with how open feminism is in the world, that things should be different. But they aren’t and it’s interesting to see the character’s turmoil with her gut feelings when her boss touches her leg compared to the more explicit assault of her colleague. And she makes excuses, as we all do, thinking that her feelings are not justified. When she is asked if she asked him to stop, this seems like the crux of the situation and the expectation is high in her to have fixed the issue. This production hits home to many on lots of different levels and that’s what makes it such a great piece.
Almost Adult is funny, it is quirky and it is endearing. But this doesn’t take away from the important issues that are never solved for women and how our eagerness as children to become an adult come from its realities which are shrouded.
I’m sure with such a title, many would wonder what a stand up horror show would entail. The name itself was intriguing and was happy to entertain the intrigue.
The Stand Up Horror Show is a one man show that I would say was loosely based on horror but more played on the satirical of a “bad” comedian. Humour was created by foiled tricks and obvious puns, which, when you got into the swing of it, was certainly comedic.
The horror aspect was somewhat lacking. Our comedian wore a somewhat scary mask, brought out magic tricks based on the occult and witchery and modernised and created humour with well known Grimm fairy tales. Granted, without the term “horror”, I wouldn’t know what genre could replace this but the label of horror isn’t quite what was brought on stage.
However, we had lots of fun. The performer was very good at ad libbing, improv and picking up on curve balls from audience members. He allowed us to join in and be a part of the comedy without telling us what was funny and when unplanned changes were created from our interaction, we certainly felt part of something.
The Stand Up Horror Show is getting there. It feels like it has the basis to become something more honed and slick, but could also do with more direction to live up to its name.
If i’m entirely honest, I couldn’t spend time on a spin bike for more than 10 minutes, let alone 1 whole hour and while acting as well.
This is what makes Spin so unique. This one hour production, based on eating disorders, the social pressures of bodies, particularly female identifying bodies and the influence we can have on each other, comes from the point of view of one person who has (in her opinion at the start) changed her life around to become a spin class instructor. During this time, 80-90% of the production is this one performer constantly on a spin bike, lacking sweat and not missing a single breath. This is commitment and talent.
This monologue features information on her past, her own eating and fitness journey, the impressions enforced on us from the media, on her and her sister that anything that isn’t thin is wrong and disgusting and we see her almost convincing herself that what she is saying, is what she believes. But we know it isn’t, and so does she. We witness her go through a turmoil of changing opinions, guilt and questioning of realism.
As mentioned previously, she manages to perform this on a spin bike and if not, she is up on stage, with every bit of power and action in her. If she has been drinking coffee, I for sure need to know what brand for that energy level. But of course, this is more than a caffeine hit; this is a well constructed level of fitness and performance talent to allow her to do both simultaneously.
The narrative, written by Kate Sumpter (also our performer) is very raw and honest. It touches on our own insecurities, no matter our body types, how judgemental we are without necessarily knowing that we are and how utterly influenced we are. I found myself questioning, as I always feel I do as a curvy woman, when performances, on stage or screen, talk about weight and eating issues and the performer(s) are a thin, beautiful person that I would love to be. And I caught myself, during the narrative she expresses of everyone judging bodies, doing the exact same, wondering what this person had to complain about. I checked myself and knew that what Sumpter had written, was emanating subconsciously within me. It isn’t a thought I believe, representing my own insecurities and realised very quickly that this production is hugely important in recognising that unconscious bias that we all have.
Spin is a tour de force of performance ability, physically and mentally and is extremely well written for anyone, female identifying or other, who struggles on the whole spectrum of body issues and influences from the media. It puts everything in perspective and makes you question your own subconscious.
Opened in 2005, DangerPoint is an education centre which aims to inform the next generation about all things safety- from road safety, staying safe online, hazards to look out for in the home and much more!
An independent charity located in Talacre on the beautiful North Wales coast, DangerPoint has something to offer everyone, from educational tours for schools and organised groups to fantastic family days out, with a chance to take part in the Danger Detective Quest and Treasure Hunt or get artsy and crafty with CraftPoint- an opportunity to create and take home your very own masterpiece- from painting to pottery and beyond.
The centre is unique- providing an inclusive experience which immerses children and young people in real life situations thanks to its creative set-up…the centre is designed like a film set! Visitors venture from a living room to the kitchen, from the countryside to the beach, with many more stops along the way! Throughout their journey they are faced with varying safety scenarios and potential hazards as well as being presented with lots of hands-on activities to broaden their knowledge whilst having lots of fun!
Visitors will also get the chance to meet DangerPoint’s very own mascot, K-os. K-os is from another planet and doesn’t understand the dangers he could face on Earth! During a tour, visitors can talk to K-os and share with him any safety hints and tips they already know or any they’ve learnt throughout their visit. If you’re looking for somewhere to gain life skills in a totally immersive and interactive environment, then look no further!
With the increased popularity from For the Black Boys, which originated at Royal Court and exploded into the theatre scene, it is great that the baton is continued with another play based on black culture and even more emphasis on its queer community.
BLACK SUPERHERO is the story of David; struggling with his past, present and future, a life of drugs, drink and sense of being unsuccessful, he is also in love with his friend who happens to be a famous acting superhero. We see David struggle with his unrequited love, of forces dragging him back to his vices and the memories of a not so idyllic childhood that his sister encountered. Life is passing him by, and so is everyone else.
True Royal Court style, the set is ambiguous and futuristic – there is a sense of something you may see in a Marvel movie; the Superhero’s secret hideout, or even the villain’s lair, with the set almost cutting away to reveal new scenes. This is emphasised with moments of David’s imagination, when he pictures his love interest in his starring role, flying down into the set in his tights and mask. There’s the constant feeling of displacement but also familiarity; where you can set this play at any time or any place. However, with the themes of race and queerness, we can only hope that societal discrimination is improved if the production were to be staged again in the future and therefore not so realistic.
Each character is fully formed and naturalistic – they all have their own quirks and opinions, but none are stereotypical. This is a great and very real approach and especially opens up the cultural themes for anyone who doesn’t sit within the black or queer communities. All the performers bounce off each other, and so their relationships feel fully realised and real. We believe in David’s past and his trauma; we believe in his and his sister’s relationship and we believe in the heartbreak that comes along with the story. We very much feel as if we are walking into these rooms, breaking down the wall and intruding into life.
While a brilliant and emotional play, one that many can identify with on lots of different emotional and cultural levels, there felt a slight anti-climax with its narrative. Perhaps being so used to something happening in a crescendo or out of the blue at Royal Court that almost slaps you surprisingly in the face, this conclusion and tying up of relationships and issues felt perfectly normal and a “happy ending” many would wish to see. There’s nothing to say that this was wrong but for BLACK SUPERHERO, I very much wanted something more, whether that be narrative-ly or production value-wise.
I am sad that, with this likely the last Vault’s Festival, I haven’t had the chance to visit as much as previous years. But how intriguing, to come across two pieces of Queer Theatre, touching on similar themes.
Acid’s Reign is a drag show come informative theatre, highlighting in a cabaret yet theatre narrative, the impact of various pollutants on the World and how it is slowly being destroyed. When I say that there are similar themes, Queer Planet and Acid’s Reign both touch on nature and the element of same sex or a-sexual animals that is not taught in biology class. It was interesting that these were approached for different reasons, but also really great to see different genres of Theatre taking up the political and educational baton with their shows.
Acid’s Reign uses various Drag Queens and Kings to feature as representations of nature – Acid (Joshua Oakes-Rogers) themselves are the “bad guy” that faces support towards redemption, representing a younger character to highlight generational attitudes towards the environment. They are witty, funny, and time of corpse-ing or loss of lines is hilariously well managed, creating layers of comedy and enjoyment that was unintended. They want to build a series of clubs because the World is beyond repair and this is where Mother Nature, played by Son of Tutu (Everybody’s talking about Jamie, film) begins a Christmas Carol style story of different “ghosts” visiting and trying to change Acid’s mind. Son of Tutu holds the stage, certainly embodying the Mother image but also had incredible comedic effect, even in the background.
Scarlett Harlett (Ru Paul’s Drag Race UK) plays the insatiable A-shell, Queen of the Sea, with her wall-shakingly amazing singing voice and continuous innuendo, her character reminding me of a dirty old Hollywood star meets Patsy from Ab Fab. For me, she stood out the most. Maybe some as a Drag Race fan, but I also felt she really commanded the stage and was always on point, even if not at the centre of the story.
Jamie Fuxx brings some masculine energy as our Drag King, Land, bringing yet another incredible singing voice to the mix and some hilarious tongue n cheek dirtiness to the stage. They slot into the cast impeccably, adding to the cacophony of different voices and characters.
Finally, Air is represented by audio, apt in what it is represented. The characters are enveloped with this, as if air can move and embody different persons and helps to culminate the activity and story. Acid is redeemed, and along the way we have been given nuggets of educational facts, some known, some unknown, tinged with comedic effect but also clearly affecting Acid in their solemn response and over all change of heart. We equally come away entertained, but thought provoked.
Acid’s Reign has a cast of incredible talents, all with their own approach and techniques but all with incredible voices and typical comedy skills from Drag/Cabaret shows. But something was missing for me. Perhaps it was just that the show needed a clear format – is this a traditional Cabaret show, where there’s an element of improvisation and crowd inspiration. Is this a musical and therefore represented by the songs that are changed slightly for the message. Or is this a straight play, with the addition of song, trying to bring a message and sticking to a written script. There’s nothing to say that any of it needs to be put in a certain box and cannot be more than one of these things, but at times it felt like too much was trying to be achieved and so lost the spark and perfection of a fully formed production. This clear path may come as a result of many productions, of working on it over years, and we may just be at the beginning of its development.
Acid’s Reign is a brilliant show – it is funny, it is informative, it is entertaining and a feast for the eyes. However, likely still in its infant stage of production, there is so much potential for the show, with the ability to open an important theme to an ever increasing audience as Queer Theatre and Drag comes more mainstream.
Hi Julia, great to meet you.You have a background in music and education, can you give our readers some background information on your career to date?
Straight out of Music College (RCM) I worked principally in the world of orchestral bassoon playing, freelancing with the BBC Symphony, BBC Scottish and also specialising as a baroque and classical bassoonist. I performed, recorded and toured internationally with ensembles such as The Academy of Ancient Music and the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. Alongside playing, I’ve been composing since I was a child. I write wide ranging music from orchestral to solo instrumental works, from opera to songs for children. I loved my own childhood music experiences and have been teaching music since I was a teenager. Creating Kodaly and Dalcroze inspired learning flows for groups of children is a particular passion. I enjoyed wonderful years as Head of Primary Music at Llandaff Cathedral School before moving to the RWCMD firstly for an M.Mus in Composition and then as a tutor for baroque bassoon and early years pedagogy.
So, what got you interested in the arts?
I had an inspirational class music teacher in my Primary School years. She introduced us to recorders, singing, tuned and untuned percussion. I remember enjoying the lessons and putting on fun concerts and productions. My parents were also very supportive in organising piano and ballet lessons and making sure we did our music practice.
What importance does music have in your life and how have you combined the two areas of music and education in your professional career?
Music gives me great joy as a performer, composer, worshipper, listener and educator. From the synergy of being in a high functioning orchestral wind section to the joy of engaging babies and toddlers in perfectly age-appropriate songs and games – the ability of music to open doors into the transcendent is extraordinary.
Music education has interweaved with performing and composing right across my career, often intermingling. It feels rather like cooking to me. You have a room of “ingredients” people/instruments/voices/music and you work deftly with what you’ve got to create a delicious meal that everyone enjoys. It’s about creating the optimum environment to bring out the best in each person’s unique flavour.
“Tell me, I forget. Show me, I remember. Involve me, I understand”.
You are delivering two different music activities as part of a RWCMD Music Residency at Penarth Pier Pavilion, as part of a new partnership with the Vale of Glamorgan Council. A one-year pilot has been agreed that will see the college run parent and toddler music sessions, base a small ensemble at the pavilion and put on Dance Band evenings for the local community. The parent and toddler music sessions will be run by yourself, Julia Plaut, a composer who served for many years as Head of Primary Music at Llandaff Cathedral School, and take two forms – Morning Mini Music and Little Concerts. Running on a weekday morning in the pavilion gallery, Morning Mini Music sessions are focused on music and movement that help children with interaction and socialisation. Little Concerts will be weekend afternoon music events for families, specifically designed for the under-5s, that feature new works from RWCMD composers”
Credit Kirsten McTernan
How did you come to be involved in this project and what are your ambitions for its delivery?
Part of my work at the RWCMD is mentoring selected students in early years pedagogy. This project gives industry-facing experience to these students under the umbrella of an expert practitioner. My ambition is that we deliver high quality musical experiences for Penarth children and their families that create a real buzz locally while providing sector leading training for RWCMD students. You can find out more about the project and book tickets here
You are the Artistic Director of Little Live Projects, this charity works to “inspire young people to flourish through sharing excellent musical experiences with professional musicians” How do you deliver this work?
Little Live Projects has two strands. One is the Little Concerts series of joyful interactive chamber music events presented in partnership with the RWCMD. The other is the Cardiff Children’s Choir, an after-school community choir for children aged 5-11 years based at Urban Crofters near City Road in Cardiff. The choir welcomes all local children and particularly those from displaced families or who are facing barriers of any kind.
Credit Kirsten McTernan
You have close links with The Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama in Cardiff, how did this relationship develop?
Quite a few of the RWCMD staff team have been professional colleagues over the years. I’m a tutor for baroque bassoon and early years pedagogy there. I formally pitched the Little Live Projects vision as part of my M.Mus studies. The RWCMD and Little Live Projects share a strong synergy of vision for future focussed training with outstanding student experience delivered by world-class staff in providing transformative experiences for diverse communities.
The Little Live Projects Team.
Funding for musical provision is increasingly being cut for young people, can you see the impact on young peoples lives and possible career paths as professional musicians as a consequence?
Good quality instrumental music tuition is a very expensive to fund, and importantly, to sustain over long enough to allow children to become accomplished enough to consider a career in music. El Sistema style initiatives like Making Music Changing Lives in Cardiff are doing brilliant work to address this deficit. I have questions about the usefulness of the large group instrumental teaching that takes place in schools which only gives a cursory taste, often on poor quality instruments and without the formation of basic good technique. I am however excited by the potential for choral singing to provide a quicker route into embodied musical understanding and real accomplishment. It works brilliantly in large groups and embeds aural and other transferable skills that children could then take into learning an instrument.
If you were able to fund an area of the arts what would this be and why?
I would fund an expert Kodaly practitioner to lead singing in every primary school in Wales one day a week. Each child has a singing voice that can be nurtured, giving them a worthwhile means of self-expression. Through singing together children develop the intimate knowledge of a social togetherness in which discipline and order prevail. Not only would these practitioners lead and embed singing but, in doing so, they would be providing continuing professional development for staff to carry on the singing confidently during the rest of the week.
What currently inspires you about the arts in the Wales?
I am inspired and encouraged by the way Ty Cerdd are championing Welsh composers and creators across a broad range of styles. I also gain a lot as a member of Anthem’s Atsain Network. Hearing nuts and bolts stories from other community music practitioners from around Wales gives me loads of inspirational ideas.
What was the last really great arts event that you experienced that you would like to share with our readers?
Recently I attended a fabulous concert by Genesis Sixteen and Harry Christophers singing Handel’s Dixit Dominus at RWCMD. The musical excellence and vibrant energy that was released through seasoned professionals mentoring young singers, conductors, instrumentalists and soloists (aged 18-23) was breath-taking. It made my heart sing to see the cascading of good things into the next generation of musicians.
I have wanted to see this play for such a long time. Having lived in Cardiff, knowing the area, the people, being half Welsh and writing for a predominantly Welsh based online magazine, the opportunity to see this in London where I live was too much of an opportunity to miss.
Iphigenia in Splott is a monologue piece based on one character, her travel through drink, drugs, poverty, her look for love and some position in the World. She thinks she finds a reason why she was put on this Earth, more than once, to find it cruelly taken from her grasp. We see her change emotionally, physically and mentally over a 75 minute period. A lifetime explored in just over an hour.
As expected – Iphigenia is nothing but spectacular. The character itself is vibrant, funny, and energetic. Iphigenia (played by Sophie Melville) is to some extent a parody of the council estate, on the poverty line person, that cannot only be seen in Cardiff but all over the country. But there is something that stops her being stereotypical. She isn’t a one dimensional character who puts a bad name on a community, a threat to society or others or is made fun of due to this. She is confident, she is abrupt but she is real and sensitive and after everything, a person.
The aesthetics have a somewhat Royal Court aspect to it – a simplicity but elements of theatricality and aim to impact. Basic staging and lighting, there are only 3 chairs that Iphigenia utilises, nothing massively inventive but aids in creating scenes in a pub, a club, her flat, a hospital and so on. Behind, a wall of lights, some broken, which look a little like blinds, which flash in colour and intensity at very specific moments to shock and throw the emotional impact in your face. It isn’t overdone though – it is minimal, relying much on the writing and on the performance itself. But it does give a theatrical element to the story.
The story itself isn’t necessarily one of anything that is unusual. The heartbreak in different guises has been told in lots of different formats over the last 20, 30, if not more, years. However, there is something new in the way that Owen has written this. We never really see the twists and turns coming. It is as shocking as if we haven’t ever heard the topics before, but written and delivered in such a way that it hurts nonetheless and shocks you to the core. Perhaps, we fall in love with Iphigenia – her approach to life, her impressions, her humour and when she is vulnerable, we don’t want the bad things to happen to her. Melville throws herself into the character – real tears and sweat and colour changing in her face at exertion and pain. She is so believable, that it’s hard to even consider that this is a fictional character and a play.
Ending by bringing her story back onto us, we are targeted and given guilt, even if not directly affected. There is a real comment on how others, especially those of a lower class or in poverty act as the guinea pigs or the collateral damage to pave the way for better processes, better services, better treatment. In a World and a country that seems to be disintegrating by the day, it is almost as if Owen predicted this. But at the same time, it is a story as old as time and one never changing.
Iphigenia in Splott is absolutely phenomenal. It is a real example of the hardships that some face, of how there isn’t always a happy ending or a magical turn around to some lives, of how many sacrifice a lot to help others without them ever realising it. It is emotional and comical and heartbreaking. I came away in tears at the pain I felt for the character but also at the real life problems our World faces today.
Creating opportunities for a diverse range of people to experience and respond to sport, arts, culture and live events. / Lleisiau amrywiol o Gymru yn ymateb i'r celfyddydau a digwyddiadau byw
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