Tag Archives: Helen Joy

Review Black Stuff Earthfall by Helen Joy

blackstuff
 out of 5 stars (3 / 5)
 

It is late but still light in Cardiff Bay. I am rushing back to the foyer to regain my handbag from the cloakroom, when I am stopped by another member of the Black Stuff audience: what did you think of it? You want me to be totally honest? Yes. Ok, I am hungry and I was bored. Me too, she says, I was watching the audience to see whether it was just me. So was I, I say.

Why bored when there is energy – this unrelenting, grubby energy in the piece?

The manic desire of 4 performers to activate their audience in the filthy black, broken building of Cardiff’s coal black past begins with the usual introduction of the heroic industrial past, the rise of hateful capitalism and the loss of jobs. A facile, lazy, predictable position.

A loose plot of past characters all real and one still living, uncomfortably atop a wonderful, surreal story of miners and hangmen.

Hard to understand, hard to hear the words, hard to follow the perambulatory plot through the rotting rooms. Gratuitous fire and semi-nakedness with a moment of light with Anna Karenina and a cricket match in a corridor over rail tracks. Oh and some nervous amusement over the dining table. Smashing. Grim.

Let me just run over a couple of scenes.

One. A big dark room smelling of damp is lit by a flame at a far corner. 3 men mine lumps of dusty coal from a thick layer of the black stuff neatly carpeting the floor around us. They writhe in it, dance in it, they move it across the space like rocks in Bent. Their movements are assured; working hard and fast, balletic and athletic around our living, Spanish centrepiece and she is glorious in her command.

Another. That dining room with that dining table. Our coal streaked men of nations sit around a polished surface in high backed chairs. They philosophise. They are served soup slopped into their bowls by their opinionated lady. They eat and talk and slaver and drool their words and food dripping over them. Bowls are there for smashing.

So much effort goes into this production and it feels so cruel to be so cold about such a hot topic. But, sometimes theatre can be too clever, sometimes effects override a good story. The location is impressive, the ideas are sound and the performers are exciting – they don’t need to try so hard to impress us for so long. It is exhausting. It becomes monotonous, dull in its efforts to share that energy.

After the finale of rolling and crashing big blue drums around a collapsing ballroom of an office, the applause from the people backed against the walls is long and loud.

In the foyer, I ask another person what she thought: I am reeling, she said, it gave me so much to think about. She is happy and fulfilled by her experience. She is probably not alone. Not bored at all.

Theatre / performance art/dance
Black Stuff
Wales Millennium Centre, Cory building
Tue 17 May 2016 to Sat 28 May 2016
Directed by Paul Davies
Movement Director: Catherine Bennett
Design: Cadi Lane
Lighting Design: Ben Stimpson
Production Manager: Dan Taylor
Performers: Rhys McLellan; Neal McWilliams; Barbara Sarmiento Araña; Aled Bidder
Video: Erin Rickard
Original Sound: Adam Howell
Thanks to Betty Rae Watkins, Sarah Pace and the Josef Herman Art Foundation Cymru – See more at: http://www.volcanotheatre.co.uk/whats-on/black-stuff#sthash.45gW7ytc.dpuf

 

Project Review, Making It! by Helen Joy

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Parama 2 Making it – LIVE!

A review of the programme of scripting workshops leading up to and including, the production: by a participant.

A small group of women of a certain age gather together in the curious spare rooms and spaces of the Wales Millennium Centre every Tuesday afternoon for 9 weeks.

March 15th

We introduce ourselves cautiously to our facilitators, Valmai Jones and Catrin Edwards; and to each other. Why are we here? Personal growth and development, honing skills and learning new ones, changing paths, making connections. A mixed bag of skills too–clowning, illustrating, writing, performing, acting – and a fair few years of life experience to boot. We watch Catrin’s film, Voices From the Factory Floor, with extra voices from the WMC breast cancer charity fashion show below. A heady mixture of women’s words on a Tuesday afternoon.

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Responding to the characters in the film seems easier to some than others. Some slip into roles easily; others struggle a little; I have no idea how to pretend and can only be me. I am astonished at the ease with which our group brings life and animation and speech to these women we have only glimpsed, sometimes second or even third hand. Real stories slip out so naturally hidden in the make-believe.

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Now, Val employs a little trick each week. Relaxation exercises for the body and the brain with closed eyes. Her mellifluous Welsh lilt calms our nervous spirits and revives our inner creativity. Staring intensely at paper mandalas to free up our right brains – mind over myth – becomes part of our shared experiences, part of bonding the group and comforts changes with consistency. This is neat.
We play a kind of Consequences – throw our titles into a hat, pick one, write some lines, pass it on… we read them out – remarkably adept little stories, tight, funny, sad, clever but mostly text, not so much dialogue.

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As the weeks roll on, we learned to examine characters and how to bring them to life through words and play. We had homework: write up your character – give her life. Give her words to say. And playlets form with monologues, dialogues, complex scenarios. Characters cry, laugh, shout and dance. Some of us stay with the themes of the film; some use the Consequences storylines; others choose something new. Somehow, perhaps not surprisingly, we all talk about the influential women n our lives.

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I struggle with reading out my words, my dialogue. And the first time it matters, I can’t do it. I am ten years old and I will be humiliated. I hand my script to Val. She is so kind and talks me through ideas and scenarios and builds my confidence.

The call goes out – posters are ready, the time and date is set – we will be performing at 3pm on the 9th May in the Preseli Rooms at the WMC. Tell your friends and families.

I write a script over an evening. I have been mulling over the idea for a few weeks now without realising. I cannot face reading it. I wonder how the others are managing.

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May 8th

Rehearsals. It is a beautiful, hot sunny day outside and we are all inside, fretting over scripts, tripping over stage hands and working with professional actors. This is getting very real. We are called to the stage, Val is acting and Catrin is directing. We are multi-tasking at a superhuman level.
I cannot open my eyes when they start to read my play. Gradually, I uncurl and watch and listen and begin to edit and critique and love it. Not love my work – but love the process. I discover acting is a joy – to be someone else for someone else is a privilege. I try so hard to do it as well as I can. Everyone else seems so much better at this but inside, I guess, we all feel the nervous.

May 9th, 3pm

Somehow, out of all the chaos, a slick series of plays is presented to a small but hugely appreciative audience. All credit to Catrin and Val for their inspiration and facilitation. All credit to the actors and stage hands for adding that professional edge.
And to us? Well. We pulled it off.

The audience, mostly made up of women from Voices from the Factory Floor, has enjoyed our efforts very much. The plays remind them of conversations had with their own mothers, fathers, daughters and friends. One said that we hadn’t needed scripts to read – that we could have just chatted amongst ourselves on stage – and there I see the compliment, our work was natural, candid observation with each of us adding our own personalities and quirks to tell tales. Not perfect but gentle, the work of women who have been there.

I am not alone in being relieved yet ecstatic as the event closes but oh so sorry that this series of workshops is not continuing and that we are left to go our own ways with our words.

The project  was supported by Age Cymru’s Gwanwyn Festival which is funded by Welsh Government and Arts Council of Wales, WI in Wales and Women’s Archive of Wales

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http://gwanwyn.org.uk

http://gwanwyn.org.uk/events/making-it-free-drama-scripting-workshop-for-older-women/

http://gwanwyn.org.uk/events/parama2-presents-making-it/

Review Belonging Re-Live Theatre by Helen Joy

Belonging

Review from a 3rd Act Critic and Older People’s Involvement Worker

“Feeling Affected, in a Good Way”

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)
It’s sold out.

Gently twanging music plays around the warm space as we settle into our seats. I am sitting between the usher and two women from the Wales Arts Council. We introduce ourselves and look down on the audience – average age, maybe 35? Surprising. And I am pleased.

The stage is dimly lit and we can see a wooden room – a staircase, bookshelves, television and pictures, a small lamp on a side table. Simple. It is a home, someone’s home with the usual vase of dried flowers gathering dust and memories to one side.

I have been warned. It is a tear jerker. Ah but it will be bread and butter to me, apparently. It won’t touch me – it’s my job.

It is two stories – a mother and her children; and a long married couple. It is a small cast scampering through complicated emotions, making us believe they are different people at different times even when they are the same person by name. From the start, I am transfixed by their abilities and follow their journeys with some fear and some hope. But only some hope – I am convinced this play will go the way of most – a depressing indictment of dementia and social services.

It does make a few political points about services – unnecessary, I feel – please do not tell me what to think; I have been there, you know. I am here for a play about belonging.

And this they do well. The stories duly plunge into confusion, misery, loss and anger with moments of utter hopelessness. But they hold on.

Through scenes of stress-driven tragedy we join in their epiphanies and cariad, we move on. My tears – and I am not alone, all around me people gently wipe their faces – are now for joy. The future is ok. These remarkable characters are safe somehow.

Does this play glorify dementia and its impact? Most definitely not. Does it give false hope? No. Does it give some sense that people experiencing dementia are lessened by it? No.

Practitioners should see this work – it offers an oriel onto the legitimate feelings of everyone affected by this disease and its different forms.

We are always being told how we should behave, what we should and shouldn’t say and do around people experiencing dementia.. but we are all human, with all the complexities that brings; and this play shows us that that is ok too.

Huge applause and the usher steps aside. We nod to each other and I leave the dark womb of the theatre.

Cat, apple, sausage – we are all checking our memory function and checking our tears as we wander into the light outside.

ReLive H Joy

Event:                      Belonging

At:                             Chapter Arts Centre

Playwright:          Karin Diamond

Director:               Peter Doran

Theatre:                Re-Live Theatre

Seen:                      2pm, 6 May, 2016

Reviewer:           Helen Joy for 3rd Act Critics

Running:              May 2nd – 7th 2016, May 2nd – 7.30pm, BSL May 3rd                                                                         6th – 2pm, 7.30pm daily

Links:               http://www.re-live.org.uk/belonging/