Author Archives: Matt Rudkin

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About Matt Rudkin

Matt Rudkin is a theatre maker and teacher who creates work as Inconvenient Spoof. He has a BA in Creative Arts, an MA in Performance Studies, and studied with Philippe Gaulier (London), and The Actors Space (Spain). He was founder and compere of Edinburgh’s infamous Bongo Club Cabaret, concurrently working as maker and puppeteer with The Edinburgh Puppet Company. He has toured internationally as a street theatre performer with The Incredible Bull Circus, and presented more experimental work at The Green Room, CCA, Whitstable Biennale, ICA, Omsk and Shunt Lounge. He is also a Senior Lecturer in Theatre and Visual Art at the University of Brighton.

Trygve Wakenshaw - Kraken - Photo Tony Virgo

Trygve Wakenshaw: Kraken

 Trygve Wakenshaw - Kraken - Photo Tony VirgoTrygve Wakenshaw delivers a consummate demonstration of comedic virtuosity in this hour-long stream-of-clown-consciousness expressed largely through the art of mime.  The opening of the show gives a perfect demonstration of what’s in store: emerging from the wings with ropes attached to his clothing, each item is pulled off in turn as he advances toward a stool.   This is amusing enough in itself, but there follow a couple of very silly-yet-clever twists that reveal a keen comic intelligence at work.

Wakenshaw brings his ideas to life with an expressive agility that makes him a highly watchable performer seemingly wholly at home in his own skin.  This relaxed self-assurance presumably comes not only from confidence in his abilities, but also in the very well-crafted material; a series of routines involving imaginative transformations of one idea into another.  Many of these make reference to the conventions of mime, such as a hilariously silent hip-hop call and response routine.   A faulty sampling loop pedal leads to him galloping about like an agitated horse, then sword-swallowing a unicorn’s horn, which in turn leads to a medical problem requiring him to remove his liver.  This he then cooks in a sizzling frying pan, which morphs into the hiss of an angry serpent. This he attempts to mesmerise using a snake-charmers classic tune, with the audience warmly cajoled into singing along.  His impish charm allows him to get some individuals to provide instrumental solos, which he then samples using the loop pedal from the start of the routine.

To reiterate, this is all mimed action with a few vocal sound effects, but the efficiency of his delivery ensures we follow the continuous medley of ideas that keep the show veering off along unexpected yet strangely logical tangents.  An over-ambitious weightlifter’s broken arms become the wings of a dumb-faced chick, whose returning parent’s feeding regurgitations transform slowly and horribly into a torrent of projectile diarrhoea.

This unremitting stream of comic invention leads to the full gamut of sounds of amusement from the audience, from giggles and nose-snorts to full-blooded guffaws.  He makes it look all very easy, but the density of invention can surely have only been achieved by disciplined hours of improvising, honing and composing.  It isn’t particularly ground-breaking or edgy, just a very good example of the art of clowning, and I find it hard to imagine there could be many human beings who would leave the show not happier for having seen it.

Atlas Movement Company: Wonderland

Atlas Movement Company - WonderlandThis is a modest production by a young company on a very small stage, but clearly much enjoyed by the youngsters and their parents in attendance. From the repeating wordplay, to the well-timed audience interactions and the inclusion of a just-scary-enough Queen of Hearts, this concise reworking of Alice in Wonderland demonstrates throughout a keen understanding of the craft of children’s theatre. The casting is also spot-on, exemplified by the interactions of narrators Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum: a naughty buffoon and a likeable Everyman. As the company name suggests, there is plenty of energetic physicality, with dynamic and well-choreographed ensemble work, including a wonderfully Shiva-esque portrayal of the caterpillar. The script is pacey, effective and efficient, and accompanied by live music that puts the humble recorder to simple but highly effective use.

The only section that seemed ready for improvement was the Mad Hatter’s tea-party dance, which would perhaps have benefitted from an accompanying song. The end also arrives somewhat abruptly and at just under 30 minutes it feels a bit like a showcase for their talents, rather than a completed piece of theatre. The craft and talent on display would certainly suggest they are ready to extend the show, which would also allow the rest of the cast of eight to expand their roles – I’d certainly be happy to hear more from the funny little Dormouse. This is a well-directed and enjoyable piece and certainly a company to watch.

Superbolt: Centralia

Superbolt: Centralia

Superbolt: Centralia

There is much to appreciate in this quirky show that tells tales from the history of an American town beneath which an underground fire has been burning for decades. The three performers present themselves as the town’s last inhabitants, excited to be here in Edinburgh to share their stories. The cast’s Lecoq School training is clearly evident in their playful interactions with each other and the audience, immediately creating a warm and inviting atmosphere that continues throughout. There is an assured ease to the comic characterisations, and some particularly charming naïve-styled choreography that is deceptively accomplished.  These elements are combined with more poetic visual devices and a clear influence of live art aesthetics. Torches become car headlights, cardboard houses turn into masks, and the soundtrack works well to underscore the shifting emotional tones.  It is an effective combination of elements, but ultimately I feel slightly disappointed that the premise wasn’t used to greater purpose.

Having begun by telling us the origins of the fire, Centralia develops into a series of related sketches rather than a compelling narrative arc. For example, one shoe-themed story is neatly followed by a dance of shoes that is charming but pointless in terms of a larger plot. Elsewhere it seemed ready to be about the evils of government bureaucracy, but this wasn’t developed, and it’s left unclear why this woman and two men have remained in their town. When at the end one character reveals his plans to stay in Edinburgh, to the distress of the others, this feels tagged on rather than the outcome of a discernible development.

At this point the production makes its largest shift into a weird and absorbing choreographed section featuring white noise, slow-motion mime and a floating papier-mâché balloon. I might have appreciated this intriguing shift in style coming earlier, as it adds a poetic gravitas to piece that suggests they have greater ambitions than to just keep us all giggling. Overall, Centralia has a winning style and some charming and original material, but there is scope to explore more deeply the ideas the production sets up.  Certainly a company to watch.

www.superbolttheatre.co.uk

Panta Rei Theatre Collective: Don Quixote! Don Quixote!

Panta Rei Theatre Collective: Don Quixote! Don Quixote!

Panta Rei Theatre Collective: Don Quixote! Don Quixote!

This show might easily have been a final assessment piece on an MA in Contemporary European Theatre. You can tick off the influences of Beckett, Pirandello, Artaud and Brook in a fairly predictable avant-gardist collage of existential quips, grotesque physicality and random dangling objects (unused). There is evidence of strong performing ability, particularly the female performer in the headscarf who has some engaging interactions with the audience, but the overall effect on me was a sense of alienation. Not the purposive, Brechtian form of alienation but the simple sense that I just didn’t get it; not the jokes, or the plot or the point. I was immediately discombobulated by the strange opening, when the action began on stage before the lights went down on the audience. A similar device occurs at the end, when the lights go down but the soundtrack continues and we’re left waiting to see who will start the clapping. These feel like confusing breaks with useful conventions rather than the daring departures from stale theatrical norms I assume they the company are aiming for.

Admittedly, I have been around this kind of work for a long time now and less jaded spectators might better appreciate its spirit of experimentalism. It is performed with enthusiastic conviction, mixing characters and themes fromDon Quixote and Hamlet in a fragmentary exploration of delusion, death and meaninglessness. There are some striking visual elements, such as when umbrellas transform into the eyes of a monster with a giant devouring mouth, and later into a well-choreographed sea of jellyfish. It is easy to appreciate these sections for their aesthetic pleasure, but the sections of text suggested there were intended meanings I wasn’t receiving. It doesn’t help that Don Quixote himself only ever speaks in Spanish. Early on this is immediately translated by Sancho Panza, but this trails off and I’m left wondering how much of his passionate monologues it might be useful for me to understand.  The conclusion to the story seems to involve Don Quixote’s realisation that his girlfriend is actually his horse, but I’m quite confident that I could be wrong.

There is an air of sincerity and commitment to the company that suggests this might be a necessary stage they are passing through on the way to something more engrossing, and their request for feedback at the end has a ring of sincere humility.   Strangely, as the cast stood ready to take their bow I was struck by how engaging they suddenly were, out of character, relaxed and openly themselves.

www.pantareitheatre.com

The Mechanical Animal Corporation: The Softening of MAO-A

The Mechanical Animal Corporation: The Softening of MAO-A

The Mechanical Animal Corporation: The Softening of MAO-A

The name of The Mechanical Animal Corporation suggests the company are fundamentally interested in considering the human being from an evolutionary perspective, and in this particular ‘bio-theatre experiment’ they explore connections between art, genetics and human violence. As it is, the piece holds the potential to provoke much post-show reflection on the implications of the material explored, but there is scope to develop the forms employed to create a more engaging live experience.

It begins with a video presentation rendered in impressive computer graphics that introduces the scientific theme, although the audio quality of some of the recorded interviews means it is difficult to easily follow the information. Simultaneously, projected on both sides of the ceiling are two images of an Impressionist/Romantic painting, which we later discover is an example of art that positively effects our ‘MOA-A’ gene. This is explained to us by the solo speaker/performer, who presents himself as a member of ‘Darwin Futures’, an institution staffed by both scientists and artists working collaboratively to explore how the creation and reception of art might affect us genetically. Playing the part of a fictional lecturer giving a lecture in the here-and-now is a tricky thing to pull off, especially to an audience of only five people, and the naturalistic style isn’t entirely convincing. There was a tension to the speaker’s movements that I assume was a feature of the performer rather than the character, although I can imagine to a larger and more enthusiastic crowd it might play out quite differently. On the few occasions when it slips into a more overtly clowning style, such as when our ‘scientist’ makes amusing attempts to create some art, the performer seems to have found a register he more enjoys. This also gives him something to do, rather than just stand and talk.

As the piece develops, real science is connected with the description of presumably fictional experiments through which moonlight is digitally captured and utilised in the creation of ‘tranquilising’ forms of art. Wondering how much of this was actually real distracted my attention from the stream of fairly complex technical ideas presented, and there were some leaps in thought that I didn’t quite keep up with. The premise that human evolution in the ancestral environment has bequeathed us with a genetic inheritance not necessarily to our benefit is a fascinating theme for a show and hopefully this piece will continue to develop such that these important ideas are more effectively shared.

www.mechanimal.wordpress.com