Author Archives: Dorothy Max Prior

Dorothy Max Prior

About Dorothy Max Prior

Dorothy Max Prior is the editor of Total Theatre Magazine, and is also a performer, writer, dramaturg and choreographer/director working in theatre, dance, installation and outdoor arts. Much of her work is sited in public spaces or in venues other than regular theatres. She also writes essays and stories, some of which are published and some of which languish in bottom drawers – and she teaches drama, dance and creative non-fiction writing. www.dorothymaxprior.com

Teatro Sineglossa: Remember Me

Teatro Sineglossa: Remember Me

Teatro Sineglossa: Remember Me

Inspired by an aria from Purcell’s Baroque opera Dido and Aeneas (‘Remember me, but ah, forget my fate.’), Sineglossa’s short filmic theatre show (just 20 minutes in duration) is less a story than a visual and aural poem exploring how the desire to love absolutely can become a form of narcissism, the one who desires and the one who is desired merging into one entity… Or perhaps it can be read as a lament – the dead lover living on in the body of the one who remains behind.

Scenography is everything in this piece – all done with lights and mirrors, you could say. We are sat in tiered seats facing a sheet of glass, so all we can see is our own reflection – a group of people staring ahead in expectation. We are then plunged into total blackout. (The performance space is Summerhall’s specially-adapted Black Shed venue, used only for the two Grotowski-inspired shows here, this and Teatr Zar’s Total Theatre Award winning Caesarean Section: Essays on Suicide, both of which require complete blackout.)

From the darkness we see glimmers of light and we make out a figure looking at us from behind the glass, as recorded applause plays. It’s a female figure, dressed in a smart cocktail dress, high heels and a hat. She raises her hand and steps towards us as the applause crescendos, then there is a moment of blackout and we next see her to the rear of the space, hatless, confined by what seems to be a triangular formation of glass walls. The figure becomes more elusive, almost ghostlike. An electronic soundtrack starts up, small bleeps sounding almost like digital cicada, then a male voice begins to hum. The woman stands by a table lamp that is giving off a bright but blurred light, a beacon in the darkness that seems to be shining right through her body. She bends over and removes her shoes and possibly her underwear. The man is seemingly behind her. She wrings her hands, agitated, then almost signs the sounds heard (‘Re-mem-ber me…’) in a kind of eurythmic hand-dance. She turns and stares into what might be a mirror, and through the glass darkly a male figure appears. The lights are very low and it is hard to distinguish what happens next, but what appears to happen is that both figures, naked, merge together then vacillate between the two states, male and female, momentarily separating out in the blink of the eye, then merging again, the pace of the ‘frames’ increasing to a frenzy.

The figures fade away before our eyes and we are left once again facing a sheet of glass, watching ourselves applaud. We can imagine this as a circular piece, with the female figure in the cocktail dress once again emerging from the applause – but this doesn’t happen, other than in our imaginations.

Afterwards, it is hard to recall just what we have actually seen and what we have imagined – the piece plays cleverly with that tug between memory and imagination, and is of course also playing very knowingly with our perceptions, challenging us to differentiate between the real and the illusory. The ‘morphing’ effect is obviously a version of the classic stage magic illusion called Pepper’s Ghost, used here to great effect.

I go back the next day to see the show again, hoping for a little more insight – I’m just as entranced, but none the wiser. Sometimes that’s how it has to be.

www.sineglossa.eu

Total Theatre Awards – 2012 Winners Announced

The winners of the Total Theatre Awards 2012 were announced at a ceremony at the Hunt and Darton Cafe on Thursday 23 August.

Six shows were awarded across three categories:

 

Emerging Companies/Artists:

XXXO (Belgium)
Charlotte De Bruyne & Nathalie Marie Verbeke, Supported by Ontroerend Goed & Richard Jordan, in association with Pleasance (Pleasance Courtyard)

 

Physical / Visual Theatre:

Caesarean Section – Essays on Suicide (Poland)
Teatr Zar (Summerhall)

(remor) (Spain)
Res de Res (C Nova)

 

Innovation, Experimentation & Playing with Form:

All That is Wrong (Belgium)
Ontroerend Goed, Laika, Richard Jordan Productions, Drum Theatre Plymouth (Traverse)

Bullet Catch (Scotland)
Arches presents Rob Drummond (Traverse)

Doctor Brown – Befrdfgth (England)
Soho Theatre and the Mason Sisters @ PBJ (Underbelly Cowgate)

 

A special award for a significant contribution to ‘total theatre’ went to:

Helen Lannaghan and Joseph Seelig, co-directors of the London International Mime Festival

 

Congratulations to all the winners, and to all the shortlisted artists and companies of the Total Theatre Awards 2012!

h2dance, Say Something

Being There: Say Something

A three-way reflection on h2dance’s Say Something

Say Something, a production by contemporary dance company h2dance, takes a close look at the nature of freedom of expression through dance and music. Ushered into the performance you walk into an intimidatingly empty and open room. No seats mean that the audience meander around the centre of the space, not knowing where to stand or even focus attention. ‘Testing, one, two,’ rings out from microphones placed around the edges of the room, while a stage at one end of the space draws the audience in as artists calmly set up their equipment and instruments. A nervous tension builds in the room as the audience set down bags and stand, waiting.

The performance that then begins blurs the lines between performers, participants and audience. From the beginning you are unsure of who is who, looking suspiciously for the most confident people around you, waiting for them to burst out of the crowd. A person grabs a roaming mic and welcomes everyone, and here the rules of the performance are first laid out. The audience can do or say anything they like at any time. The microphones have been left out especially so that the audience can use them to speak out and react to the performance.

When the performance begins in earnest the performers emerge from amongst the audience, weaving between them, with the movement built around a choral soundscape by composer Sylvia Hallett. It starts very simply, like a vocal warm-up, building into intricate harmonies. Using both the dancers and a group of volunteer participants, the choral compositions are beautiful and act as a way not only to give the production a cohesive style and mood but to give the audience a mechanism for easy participation: it’s hard to resist joining in with these choral melodies.

The performance pauses at points to encourage the audience to respond and give feedback, and through the dance and choral sections the performance cleverly draws you into participating: the dancers promenade around and through the audience, guiding them into formations and specific areas in the space. They bring the audience together as one group, whilst challenging them to say something, join in and be more than simply passive observers.

The multi-level participation is brilliantly handled; by involving the audience and integrating the participants fully, Say Something opens up the possibilities of what a performance can become if the audience give it as much direction as do the performers. Verging on a social experiment – and with different outcomes to each show as each audience responds differently to every performance – Say Something can be a challenge to the audience or a desperate appeal for substance and depth in a fickle and unquestioning world. It’s easier to be a follower all the time than to disrupt and risk changing things. ‘Say something’ becomes a question or challenge to the audience throughout the performance. If you don’t speak up when you are asked to do so can you speak up when you really need to? A unique experience in itself, the point of the performance is what it leaves you with: the question of what it means to be free to speak up and say – something.

Richard Lavery, reviewing for Total Theatre

 


 

I rush into the Dissecting Room with just fifteen minutes to go before ‘doors’. I’ve been to see another show at Summerhall that has just ended, so I’m late. I arrive into controlled chaos: Square Peg (the company whose circus show Rimeshares our space) are clambering over their rig, pulling down ropes. Say Something’s composer Sylvia is tuning her electric guitar. Dancers are limbering up on the concrete floor. Ouch. I’ve missed the voice warm-up so Sylvia suggests I go off into a corner and warm up myself. Choreographer Heidi rushes over to tell me that a few crucial changes have been made to the show – no time to rehearse me in, I’ll be fine. It’ll be all right on the night. Soundman Max is trying to sort out some problems with the mics due to their having been used for a club night held in this space yesterday. Yep, usual Fringe stuff, even at forward-thinking venues like Summerhall. It’s 7pm, the sound problems aren’t solved, but the show must go on.

We, the company performers and volunteer extra ‘secret performers’, join the line outside and enter with the audience. We all mooch around the room, or lean against the walls, watching the sun streaming in the windows. Everyone’s clocking everyone else. Jasmin takes the mic and does the intro, explaining that the audience are free to do as they will over the next hour, pointing out the mics that can be used for comment or commentary. On a set cue, we start to hum, a kind of secret hum. The sound builds and one by one we step out from the crowd, weave through the audience and walk across the room, to become a choir. At the moment we are all gathered, we turn and face the audience, bend over, rise, take a loud deep breath, and burst into song – it’s a gorgeous moment.

We are in four voice groups – soprano, alto, tenor, bass – and each group has a leader. The piece plays with flocking and grouping within the space, weaving in and around the audience. We sing, we walk, we sing, we run, we sing, we crawl, we sing, we roll… On some cues we follow our group leader; at other points we have a sequence of sound and movement motifs that we use to make our own patterns through the space. At given points we move the audience into different shapes and groupings. We circle them, bathe them in sound showers, hug them, gently herd them round the space. Later in the piece, things turn nasty and we screech and squawk and march and form military lines that drive the audience across the room and kettle them in corners.

There is an intention in the piece to investigate conformity and individuality. One performer, Anne Gaelle, emerges as the non-conformist of our group, and there is sometimes a similar rebel or two in the audience group. The piece shifts in mood and our relationship to the audience shifts accordingly. On this particular night, the audience is a respectable number of people, but not massive, and it’s a pretty young and relatively shy crowd – they seem remarkably easy to sculpt! Some nights earlier in the run have been rather more feisty. We’ve had plenty of rebels and refuseniks – less so tonight.

Despite the changes in choreography and the fact that there are choir members in the piece that I haven’t yet met (adding another interesting layer to the ‘who’s who’ start to the piece!), I take strength from the fact that the performer/audience ration is higher tonight than on last week’s shows, and I particularly enjoy this performance. The choir feels strong and united tonight.

Taking part in Say Something was sold to me as a fun and relaxing thing to do at the Fringe, singing with a community choir. As it turned out, it was fun, but hardly relaxing – running round to meet rehearsal and show commitments in between reviewing – and something of a busman’s holiday as I’d given up paid work with my own company (Ragroof Theatre) in order to give myself exclusively to Total Theatre for the month of August! Nevertheless, it was a great experience – and lovely to see how other people making ‘immersive theatre’ handle the challenges!

Dorothy Max Prior, volunteer performer and choir member, Say Something

 


 

As Say Something works with volunteer community singers alongside professional dancers, the last half hour before the show is always very stressful. The constellation of singers is constantly changing, meaning certain sections need to be repositioned and rehearsed in a very short amount of time. Adding to that stress the show tonight started slightly late due to technical problems. We didn’t want the audience to wait around for too long so we decided to go ahead with the show and sort out the problems during the performance. This luckily worked out and added a nice touch to the introduction.

The audience, consisting of mostly young people, entered the hall with slight hesitation, not quite knowing where to place themselves, working out whether to stand in the middle or hover round the edges of the space. When the performers started to reveal themselves nervousness developed amongst the audience as they became aware of their role within this show. Quite quickly the group merged, responding as expected of them, mostly obedient to the instructions given.

When performing the work we are constantly trying to guess the audience and predict their reactions. One woman decided to participate, dancing with us almost from the start. The confusion and individual reaction amongst the audience wondering ‘is she one of us or one of them?’ is interesting to observe. In most shows the audience members distance themselves from anyone who stands out as different and doesn’t conform to the unspoken rules that are quickly established in the space. Even though everyone has been encouraged to take part and express themselves freely during the show this opportunity is used by few.

The audience seemed joyfully uneasy about the work as sounds were thrown at them from different directions. ‘What do you want to tell me,’ one man asked while we were shaking the audiences hands and giving out hugs. ‘I really wanted to join in, but I feel too shy,’ was the response of a woman during the interview section. Another woman said as she giggled away in a nervous manner: ‘I just want to laugh’. When the show progressed into the middle sections, what we call the ‘rock song’, the majority of the audience seemed at ease and exited about joining in the dancing and singing along. There is however always someone on the outside of the group and I’m always wondering if they like that role, are bored, or if they just want to watch Anne Gaelle who reveals the truth that she works for h2dance.

Overall there was a good amount of interaction with the audience during this show. As the performers gave instructions and manipulated the audience mostly with success, all the planned elements of the performance came together. From our perspective this makes for a successful show. Possibly confused, hopefully touched, and with a range of thoughts on their minds, people seemed jolly as they left the hall.

Heidi Rustgaard, choreographer for Say Something and co-artistic director of h2dance

 

h2 dance‘s Say Something is performed 7-26 August 2012 at Summerhall as part of Edinburgh Fringe and under the Escalator East to Edinburgh banner. The performance written about here took place 15 August 2012. 

Nathalie Marie Verbeke and Charlotte De Bruyne: XXXO

Edinburgh: On the Cusp of the Awards

Nathalie Marie Verbeke and Charlotte De Bruyne: XXXO

So where was I? Ah yes – the Total Theatre Awards shortlist meeting, and having 28 shows to see in a week, above and beyond the things I already had booked.

Well, I’ve done that. Since the Total Theatre Awards shortlisting meeting on 16 August, I’ve run madly around town, determined to see all the shows in each of the three category shortlists – Physical and Visual Theatre, Innovation, and Emerging Artists. And YES, with Dr Brown tonight as my last show I can say MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. I’ve even managed to write some reviews in between times, for example, here’s one of Chris Goode’s lovingly crafted verbatim piece transposing children’s words to adult voices, Monkey Bars. And here’s one of a surprisingly joyous piece about illegal immigration and exploitation, Juana in a Million (shortlisted in the Emerging Artists category).

Also in Emerging is the extraordinary XXXO – suffering a little in a totally unsuitable space at Pleasance Courtyard, but rising above that to create an adventurous piece of theatre which is ostensibly about girls crying, but broadens out to be a reflection on how we respond to all the sadness in the world, real or fictional. Each of the works in the Emerging group have been so completely different in form and theme – from the grown-up puppetry of Tortoise in a Nutshell, Grit, investigating modern warfare, to folksy and heart-breaking music-theatre piece Beulah by the Flanagan Collective, to Lecoq-trained bouffons Clout, to the knowing multi-media experiments of Sleepwalk Collective, to the live art/theatre cross-over of Best in the World, an homage to darts-playing and to celebrating one’s personal best, to the comedy-theatre crossover Not Treasure Island, in which Sleeping Tress make a bid to be the new Penny Dreadfuls.

In the Innovation category, I saw Sue MacLaine’s Still Life for a second time (the first was in Brighton last year) and was pleased to find the show as rich and rewarding second time round – if you haven’t experienced it yet, it merges a poetic biographical story with a life drawing class – experienced artists and absolute beginners equally welcome! The Pride was a weird one: I started out hating it and ended up loving it – a kind of Australian Abigail’s Party acted out by a trio of people in lion suits who use ‘lion-ness’ to investigate gender, social climbing in suburbia, and masculine pride and competition. Great jungle wallpaper too! There are two children’s shows on the shortlist this year:Paperbelle and The Curious Scrapbook of Josephine Bean – the former for under-sixes and the latter for over-eights. Paperbelle is – and I know they will hate me for pointing this out – too close to the subject matter of previous Scottish show White to really rise above the comparison, although it is a charming and lovely show with a gorgeous design and great live music (the eponymous Paperbelle’s voice rendered on guitar). Shona Reppe’s Josephine Bean is gorgeous, just gorgeous – all based round a scrapbook, the contents of which are cleverly animated; a truly innovative children’s show, and performed with great panache by Ms Reppe.

I also got to see Dr Brown – and all I can say is go, get a ticket and go. He takes physical theatre and clowning to new levels – and as for how he works the audience… Wow! See Edward Wren’s review here, he sums it all up pretty well!

I’d seen much of the Physical and Visual category pre-shortlist, but Teatr Biuro Podrozy’s Planet Lem was a late opener, so I got to see that – a large-scale sci-fi extravaganza that featured humanoids depicted as what one person I know described as ‘Tellytubbies with tits’, dominated by a terrifying team of robots. As always the stilt work and staging was great, and good to see TBP going for a different aesthetic and playing with comedy. Great spaceship too!

Nothing is Really Difficult is enormous fun: three male clowns of the highest order and one big box – cue an hour of rip-roaring fun that manages along the way to investigate masculinity and parody the notion of three blokes stuck together for life. And they surely have the most innovative show flyers in the world – they are wood, in the shape of ‘Dutch animals’ or handbags or maybe just plain wooden squares, carved before our very eyes from on top of their box pre-show.

Knee Deep is contemporary circus at its best, skills-wise – astoundingly talented performers challenging our expectations of male and female roles in circus performance. You’ll have to go a long way before you see a female base with this strength and power! Stepping outside of the shortlist for an hour or so, I nipped in to see Tumble Circus, mostly because I wanted to compare and contrast with Knee Deep. Tumble is flawed, and the skill level nowhere near as high, but it is a very interesting piece, using circus to investigate what it is to be a circus performer. Navel gazing, perhaps? Well, theatre has certainly had its share of shows that turn the gaze on itself, and I for one greatly enjoyed this piece that reflected the agony and the ecstasy of being a ‘circus couple’.

I finally got to see the much-touted sell-out show at Summerhall, Teatr Zar’sCaesarean Section: Essays in Suicide. And yes, wow, a great piece of ‘total theatre’– the song, music, movement work, and scenography all superb. I will also confess that this company have been trying to attract my attention for the last couple of years, and I have received numerous emails about this work as it was developed and presented in Poland and Italy – and in a very biased way kind of ignored it because of the title. Well, just goes to show… Song of the Goat’s Songs of Lear is amazing and beautiful in some similar ways, but with a radically different staging – almost a recital, although with the company’s physicality evident in the dramaturgy. So good I saw it twice!

Outside of the TT Awards shortlist I have also managed to attend the Guild of Cheesemakers event at Summerhall – good cheese and wine, but I wasn’t personally taken anywhere by the accompanying story of timelessness versus ageing, even if the three performers and various ‘non performers’ – experts on bread, wine, and cheese – were all highly entertaining and watchable. I got to travel on a boat to a remote island for a rendition of Macbeth that is a tribute to a classic Demarco production – beautiful experience, gorgeous site, but a rather dull production of the Scottish Play which missed many opportunities to really use the site, although there were some nice touches such as witches popping up in windows above us, footsteps echoing around the old abbey, and a lovely servant woman with a great Scottish accent who spoke Shakespeare’s lines with a natural ease missing from the other performances.

We Are Not Here, like the above two a Summerhall show, is an interesting piece of dark clown work – very dark clown! – that knowingly references the works of Samuel Beckett (Godot arrives in a pram at one point). Feisty performances from what are obviously seasoned physical theatre actors, presented in the suitably terrifying Demonstration Room. Like Clout’s How a Man Crumbled and The Shit, this is a show that really suits this spooky space, with its hooks and shadows and peeling walls and pews.

Elsewhere, in St Andrew’s Square to be precise, I caught most of a Made in Scotland outdoor aerial-dance show called Leaving Limbo Landing. A strong all-female team of acrobats, aerialists and dancers telling a tale of migration and investigating the meaning of belonging, using sound recordings, and played out on an outdoor rig using rope and silks as well as floor-based choreography. A familiar theme, and it was hard not to compare to Mimbre who are also an all-woman circus-trained company who have made a (better) show about ‘leaving home’. But there are some lovely touches – great costumes including a luggage-label dress, and nice to see side-by-side rope, and to see the contrast between air and ground used well. Oh and there’s a water feature, the show’s USP which is – yeah – a nice climax, although I struggled to understand what it meant, dramaturgically. This could be because I missed the beginning of the show!

I’ve also managed a couple of cabaret shows, although I find it hard to stay awake after 11pm with so much daytime activity going on. Bourgeois and Maurice are their usual outrageously witty and entertaining selves in Sugartits. And East End Cabaret – also a two-person singer and musician combo doing songs with outrageous lyrics and playing with their ambivalent onstage (and suggested offstage) relationship – go from strength to strength. They are so beautifully bawdy, so wonderfully in control of their audience, such a great singer and multi-instrumentalist, that it is hard to find fault. They do come with a health and safety warning though: if you are easily offended by women who are not afraid to name body parts and state what you can do with them, then this is not the show for you!

So, it is close to the end of this year’s Fringe. Just one last weekend. Today I am having a day off from seeing shows in order to judge the Total Theatre Awards. The winners will be announced at 5pm (Thursday 25 August). Oh and also to say that unlike other awards, ours involves a long and convoluted process of assessing and judging by an impressive mix of national and international critics, producers, artists et al – so it’s not just one or two people’s opinions. And we NEVER tell people before the announcements if they’ve won or not, no-one is in the know!

So, we wait on the cusp…

Sleeping Trees: Not Treasure Island

Sleeping Trees: Not Treasure Island

Sleeping Trees: Not Treasure Island

Three boys messing about on a stage – it’s become part of the Edinburgh Fringe tradition, and with the Penny Dreadfuls taking a long and possibly permanent break, and Pappy’s allegedly on their Last. Show. Ever, there’s a gap to be filled. Enter Sleeping Trees with their patchwork version of Treasure Island – indeed, Not Treasure Island.

It’s a great idea, to recreate Treasure Island without rereading it, digging up the buried memories and throwing them together to make a show. The problem I fear is that the concept doesn’t quite translate to the stage, possibly because none of us know the story well enough to distinguish between what actually happened in the story and what is a figment of the collective Sleeping Trees imagination.

That aside, it is all a jolly good romp, with feisty performances from our three lads. It stays fixedly within the sketch comedy format: no props or set, the story driven on by the fast-paced writing, the clownish characters, and the running jokes  – in this case, all built round the constant deaths and fake deaths and resurrections of a whole load of old sea dogs, which include a jolly Jimmy Jim Jim, a moribund Jolly Roger, a bevy of hook-bearing Long John Silvers, and various Blind Petes. The humour is old-fashioned and blokish. The audience are mostly teenagers and young adults, and happy to squeal with laughter at the idea of two old pirates snogging, and a loud shout of the word ‘twat’ gets them rolling in the aisles. I much prefer the quaintly boyish touches, for example when we have a small eulogy to jelly, ‘the perfect blend of food and drink, in some ways the only real meal’.

Sleeping Trees are a theatre company emerging from Chichester’s BA Ensemble Theatre course, and are mentored by Bootworks (another three-man team of theatre-makers). They have obviously made a choice to play the sketch-comedy-troupe card, to see how they can make that work for them – and they have certainly proved that they can do that. But I would personally much rather see them playing with form with a little more courage. How, for example, might Not Treasure Island have been if they had taken inspiration from Bootworks’ Predator and put themselves and their relationship to the story into the piece? There are spaces between comedy and theatre to be explored – see for example the work of Total Theatre Award winners Dr Brown, Spymonkey and Will Adamsdale (the latter perhaps the only artist to have won a Fringe First, a Perrier Comedy Award and a Total Theatre Award over two shows); legendary companies such as Peepolykus and The Right Size (aka Hamish McColl and Sean Foley who went on to West End success withThe Play Wot I Wrote); and indeed the wonderful Mighty Boosh, who we should remember started out as an Ed Fringe show directed by Cal McCrystal.

What is obvious from seeing this show is that the Sleeping Trees trio have stage presence, great character skills, a good sense of comic timing, and that they know how to play to and with an audience. So, the question is: what are they going to do with all these skills? The possibilities are endless…

www.sleepingtreestheatre.co.uk