Author Archives: Matt Rudkin

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.

Theatre Témoin and Cie. Traversière: The Fantasist

Theatre Témoin and Cie. Traversière’s The Fantasist depicts the extremes of bipolar disorder as experienced by an institutionalised young woman rendered with conviction and physical virtuosity by the central performer. Well-structured as an engaging and coherent story, the piece still leaves plenty of space for interpretation, and contains enough elements of humour and inventive staging to keep firm hold of the attention. The opening scene shows the woman lying in bed as viewed from above, anxiously moving around, unable to settle. It is a well-known device, but here the technique and attention to detail create a highly convincing illusion, and this quality of application and ambition continues throughout the show.

Her delusional fantasies and shifting psychological states are represented in the form of puppet characters, particularly the erotic/abusive relationship she has with the mysterious Blue Man. An artist’s mannequin is brought to life as an extremely charming, impish child, and the grotesque heads of two raucous women prompt much laughter whilst effectively furthering the plot. Whilst there is scope to improve some of puppet mechanisms and techniques, their manipulation is well choreographed and performed with enjoyable gusto. The puppeteers also appear as human characters – a doctor and friend attempting to help the woman maintain her grip on reality. Through these dialogues we gain some added insights into her condition, but the stage naturalism is less accomplished than the more stylised, physical/visual work. A trippy, fragmented jazz soundtrack creates an atmosphere of menace and mental dissolution to complement the live action, and there are some wonderfully surreal scenes of artistic reverie when the character interacts with floating objects.

Whilst essentially tragic, the dynamism and invention of the production ensures it never becomes too depressing, but this perhaps also limits the depths to which it is emotionally moving. The narrative arc works its way to a final twist that almost turns it into a ghost story, which is neat but perhaps ends the show too quickly. Overall, however, the performance provided a rich and seamless experience clearly much appreciated by the sell-out audience, and should arouse positive interest in the company.

www.theatretemoin.com

Horse + Bamboo: Angus: Weaver of Grass

If you do go and see this show, I strongly advise that you read the programme notes beforehand. What you will discover is that it is based on the life of Angus McPhee, a native of the Scottish island of South Uist who developed schizophrenia during his army service in the Second World War and was institutionalised for many years. During this time he developed the habit of weaving grass into a variety of forms, a practice introduced to him during his childhood. In retrospect I do see how these plot points were incorporated into the show, but at the time I admit to being mightily confused.

The production certainly creates some striking visual imagery, achieved through a combination of puppetry, mask and video projection, much of which seems inspired by the early schools of modernist art. The set is comprised of multiple, angular, off-white flats and has a definite Cubist / Expressionist feel. The flats are moved around to accommodate a variety of scenes and provide the screens for the projections. One section was a pure surrealist collage of floating objects, animated projections and discordant noise – what I now assume was a representation of McPhee’s mental illness. His apparent escape from the harsh reality of institutionalised life was then set against some intensely coloured expressionist / fauvist images.

The Scottish elements that thread through the show exist in strange counterpoint to these languages. The show is narrated mostly in Gaelic by perhaps the most engaging performer, who also accompanies the action with some beautifully delivered traditional songs. The actual examples of woven grass garments are also truly splendid, if surely very itchy. Whilst some spectators clearly hugely appreciated the show, a few even rising to their feet in ovation, my general impression is that this production would benefit from some further development. Too much of the choreography / blocking seems ill-defined and repetitive, and the storytelling fails to set intriguing questions that keep us engaged. The puppetry sections were an exception, and were delivered with real skill, charm and ingenuity. There is a wonderful life-sized boy figure, the sudden thrilling appearance of some braying horses heads, clucking chickens and miniature houses, but even these scenes often felt confusing in relation to the storyline.

SKaGeN / Valentijn Dhaenens: Bigmouth

Even the most ardent conservative/republican would surely admit that this is a highly accomplished, virtuoso performance, stunning in its execution. The left-leaning majority of contemporary theatregoers will think it is simply brilliant. At just under 90 minutes this is the longest show I have seen at the Fringe, but each moment is so thoroughly considered and expertly crafted that at no point did I glance at my watch.

Ideally located in Summerhall’s Demonstration Theatre, the piece is comprised of a series of verbatim recreations of public speeches stretching back to Socrates, but mainly from more recent history. A video monitor displays the names and dates of these, which are progressively erased after they are delivered. This sets up an interesting guessing game, and also provides a means of orientating ourselves within the overall structure. A long table runs across the front of space with a variety of microphone types equally spaced upon it, the solo performer, Valentijn Dhaenens, moving between these to provide each speech with distinctly different audio effects. The quality, precision and ingenuity of the audio effects is highly impressive, providing a cleanness and exactness that perfectly augments the chameleon-like virtuosity of the performer. There are some genuinely amazing vocal and physical transformations as the character and intent of each orator is recreated before us in a variety of languages. I was initially concerned that the split focus between the performer and surtitles provided would prove a distraction, but the majority of pieces are in English. Musical interludes punctuate the structure, often created using live loops to build up rich choral harmonies. These include a craftily ironic rendition of ‘I want to live in America’, Kurt Cobain’s ‘Hello’, and the last piece, ‘Nature Boy’, the final lines of which provide a subtly effective conclusion to the show.

The content and style of the speeches chosen are juxtaposed to provoke a rich abundance of associations and reflections that should leave spectators with plenty to talk about afterwards. Whilst the piece is very open to interpretation in this way, there is a distinctly critical stance towards American foreign policy. This is perhaps most clearly evident in the juxtaposition of Goebbels’ rallying address to the women of Germany, which seems dignified, astute and persuasive when placed in counterpoint to the rabid exhortations of General Patton that all the cowards should be killed so that America can breed a nation of brave men. There is a wonderfully witty recreation of a jovial right-wing Belgium politician’s address to an American audience, and an excellent collage of George W. Bush quotes, including his statement that America had been attacked ‘by evil itself’. By contrast, perhaps the most eloquent and measured speech comes from Osama Bin Laden, as he sits cross legged on the table top giving a simple history lesson that provides a clear explanation of his motivations. For me the most interesting consideration is that every one of the orators depicted surely spoke with deep commitment and belief in the causes they espoused, and their speeches might best be judged in relation to their effectiveness on the audience for whom they were intended. Overall, Bigmouthis a highly effective marriage between form and content that is technically accomplished, beautifully structured and deeply intelligent.

Little Angel Theatre / RSC: The Magician’s Daughter

This puppet-based show is aimed at ages 3+ and is a high quality, seamless and visually engaging production that parents will probably enjoy as much as their children. As might be expected from a Little Angel / RSC collaboration, the craft disciplines employed are all of the highest order and this, refreshingly, includes the art of storytelling. Loosely basing the show on characters from Shakespeare’s The Tempest, writer Michael Rosen sets the production at a future point when Miranda has left the island and has her own young daughter, Isabella. It won’t stop raining outside and to pass the time the mother tells stories of Grandpa Prospero, his magic book and magic staff.

Through sorcery or imagination (it is left open to interpretation) Isabella travels back to the island where she meets the lovable Caliban and his teasing rival Ariel, each of whom now possess a broken half of the magic staff. Through the interactions between these three there gently emerges the theme of collaboration, swapping and sharing, which is well pitched to the age range and includes enough audience participation, visual transformations and magic tricks to keep them absorbed. There are smatterings of Italian and the inclusion of some Shakespearean verse, but the educational elements of the show are never confusing or tacked-on, and are instead effectively integrated into the well-paced plot. The attractive puppets are large enough to fill the large stage space and are skilfully brought to life through well-choreographed manipulation and great character voices. The two talented performers create a range of engaging relationships, and deliver some charming songs accompanied by various instruments, from a ukulele to hand-bells. One of these, ‘I’m just a little magic staff’, exemplifies how the production effectively marries music, story and puppetry through artful sim

www.littleangeltheatre.com / www.rsc.org.uk

Bourgeois and Maurice: Sugartits

Anyone who plays Talking Heads before a show has already won over a small slice of my pie, and so it continued with this cabaresque medley of original songs and winning repartee from a super-camp and very tall musical duo. It was a strange thing to be sat in my multi-pocketed utility vest, alone and furtively note-taking whilst before me the sequined lizard-king, Bourgeois, cavorted, crooned and cajoled in a flurry of flamboyant gesticulations, encouraging us through his own example to feel at home in our own skin.

The title of the show, Sugartits, had suggested to me a tone of harshness or crudity that was very far from the reality of the experience. Interaction with the audience is generous and inviting rather than confrontational, and the satire of the comic songs works through teasing nibbles rather than savage bites. This isn’t to suggest it isn’t funny; the fairly continuous giggling of the audience regularly erupts into happy guffaws.

The use of lighting and dry ice effectively fills out the space, provides variety, and gives the show an aura of elegant style, rather than trashy self-parody. This is borne out by the quality of the singing, led by Bourgeois with harmonies provided by his sidekick, Maurice, who also provides accompaniment on a range of instruments. Affecting a voice somewhere between Jennifer Saunders and Princess Diana, she is a strong performer but more clearly playing a character than Bourgeois, who I’m fairly convinced would sound and act pretty much the same off-stage as on. This is most notable in the shifts in vocal tone between Maurice’s speaking and singing. Her real comic ability comes to light when she is given reign to stand up and lead proceedings – memorably in the funky, sadomasochistic track ‘Tax Me’. This could be read as just an odd conceit, or a political expression of her readiness to contribute more to the communal purse. As with many of the songs, the political element is often subtly nestling between the comic frills, such as, ‘It’s OK to be gay, it’s OK to be straight, but don’t be disabled’. In the context of the entire set this clearly isn’t vicious, it’s a satirical statement of the continual need to identify and uproot hypocrisy and intolerance. Primarily this show aims to make a healthy contribution to a good night out, and that it does very well, but there’s an intelligence, sensitivity and strange humanity that might just provoke some diverting conversations too.

Total Theatre