Author Archives: Rebecca Hillman

Cassie Friend and Benedict Sandiford, Jackson's Corner

Cassie Friend and Benedict Sandiford: Jackson’s Corner

Cassie Friend and Benedict Sandiford, Jackson's Corner

For many Reading residents ‘Jacksons’ is a word synonymous with the town centre. Founded in 1875, the retail store is still independently owned and run by the family who established it. Moreover, it is run in accordance with some of the same intentions and approaches that crafted its identity a century and a half ago. In such a way, Jacksons is not only a historical site but also a living, performative history. Finally it has been sold, and is due to close its doors to the public for the last time at the end of this year.

The show Jackson’s Corner was devised by Cassie Friend (Redcape Theatre) and Benedict Sandiford to celebrate the store and mark its passing. It was produced by South Street Theatre for Reading’s annual SITELINES festival, which presents theatre in unusual spaces. Jackson’s Corner allowed audiences a promenade exploration of the physical dimensions of the store, as well as touching encounters with its less tangible aspects, such as memories and sentiments relating to its past, present, and future.

Familiar features of the store are estranged for the audience as they enter – loaded with the significance a performance event brings, and cast in an attentive, reflective light in the knowledge of the store’s imminent closure. The company’s use of space, pace and characterisation capture the passion that runs and preserves the shop, and the anticipation and reflection that takes place as it gradually closes down. Various rooms and in-between spaces are used to house short scenes, films, and images and to create particular atmospheres. Meanwhile, materials of the shop such as tape measures, mannequins, wool, and the amazing ‘money-train’ (an original, functional vacuum-operated cash system) are deployed to create a patchwork narrative connecting 138 years of history. The audience are involved intimately in the storytelling. As we gather round the counter of the menswear section, our measurements are taken, prompting recollections of the past, which fit Jacksons store into a broader social history: ’13 inches… hmmm. Number of attacks so far… Jacksons in the blackout!… We used to use the changing rooms to get some shut-eye…’

There are a few magical images for the audience to discover. At one point we are confronted with the silhouette of a woman in a 40s style dress, slowly turning a black umbrella, which is hung with multi-coloured lights. Ghosts of the past seem to emerge, to tenderly haunt our everyday. At the end of the performance Sandiford asks everyone to congregate for a photograph. As we become part of Jackson’s history and the performance ends, it is suddenly moving. A collective exhalation from the audience marks their involvement. We linger around once the performance has ended, not quite able to leave. We exchange thoughts on what Jacksons means to us. The performance will be on again for five days just before the store closes, from 17-21 December. Don’t miss out on the chance to engage with this fascinating place, and evocative performance.

Tom Frankland & Keir Cooper in association with Último Comboio, Don Quijote

Tom Frankland & Keir Cooper in association with Último Comboio: Don Quijote

Tom Frankland & Keir Cooper in association with Último Comboio, Don Quijote

Frankland, Cooper and Otero’s Don Quijote offers an exhilarating and thought provoking adaptation of the seminal 17th Century novel. Audiences at Reading’s SITELINES festival were invited to pull up a cushion on the floor of an office in the town centre to watch the show. Sitting amidst six installation/performance spaces arranged around the office, we were treated to a 360° spectacle. This included Skype calls, thunderous flamenco dancing, a handsaw, paper snowstorms, and a very earnest monkey who played the drums and did his level best to DJ under difficult circumstances.

The performance begins with a classical, if quirky, portrayal of the story of Don Quijote, the romantic adventurer. It progresses towards an abstract and meta-theatrical exploration of the underlying themes and structure of the novel. The artists cover a dizzying amount of ground to touch on themes of nationalism, orthodoxy, idealism, and only small philosophical points such as the nature of reality, and its relationship to fiction and ideology. But these themes and questions are not necessarily articulated verbally. They are embedded within the fabric of the performance and its use of space, revelation and dialogue with the audience, who help shape the performance throughout.

The performance ebbs and flows unpredictably. There is a sense that it will not be contained either by the edges of the performance space, the stimulus narrative, or even the expectations of its artists. A relaxed atmosphere is mixed with a raw energy. The audience alternate between feeling they are ‘hanging out with the performers’, or witnessing anarchic, or highly controlled expression. Beautiful shadow displays across the walls and the ceilings give way to chaotic collective scramblings to assemble costume and props. Intimate memories shared slowly precede darting torchlight, which picks up flickers of dancing to the sound of hectic drumbeats. Meanwhile, one audience member is chosen to develop an entirely different narrative in another space. This other ‘performance’ for the most part takes place independently, simultaneously.

The performance is enchanting and farcical, but is also driven by the political and philosophical passion of the novel. This imbues its disparate elements with something intoxicating. Having turned the black box theatre space inside out in its design, the performance also celebrates those who have lived their lives ‘outside the box’. It questions state deception, and the repression of creativity. A series of images eventually focus uncompromisingly on moments from our social history. Images of Iraq and Afghanistan appear momentarily, before an image of the late peace campaigner Brian Haw. We are told to the screech of an electric guitar that ‘society shits on dreamers’. The effect is secured with the rhythm of the drums and oration, which keeps our attitude at this moment steady and sombre.

Dialogue doesn’t stop with the end of the performance. Still covered in the paper snowstorm, bearing Cervantes Saavedra’s text, we want to keep talking about it, so everyone piles into the pub next door.

Black Fish / Makin Projects: Alaska

Black Fish / Makin Projects: Alaska

Black Fish / Makin Projects: Alaska

New company Black Fish invite audiences to visit Alaska, a weird and sometimes wonderful environment, inspired by wild North American landscapes, and focusing on one man’s calamitous experiences with them.

This is a new company underpinned by the work of an old: both performers and the writer, Carl Grose, are old collaborators with Kneehigh, and the show’s language exhibits some recognisable features. First we meet John (Craig Johnson) who explains to the audience that he is here to present ‘an inspirational, interactive seminar’ and, by way of this seminar, ‘a story that will move you’. In doing so, he hopes to answer a question that has been haunting him: why is his life so empty? He explains that part of his seminar will constitute the screening of a home-movie style film sent to him and made by Justin (Giles King). This ‘film’ forms the main thrust of the performance, and is in fact live action, depicting Justin’s ambitious, wacky, and nearly self-destructive adventures in the wilds of Alaska. At times the live-action appears to be fast-forwarded and rewound by John, displaying Justin/King’s expert and hilarious freeze-frame abilities.

When he is not giving his ‘seminar’, John/Johnson doubles-up to play burly, lonely, affectionate ‘Babe’, a large, wandering roughneck with an unlikely name, whose knife-wielding antics are cut short when he overhears Justin reading an infamously titillating text by torchlight inside his tent. So begins their curious friendship, which brings each character some level of satisfaction in the increasingly hostile environment, and eventually leads to Justin having a life-affirming revelation on a mountaintop at end of the play…

There is a lot to be enjoyed here. The company skilfully present a simple but transforming set to depict various Alaskan-inspired scenes. Deft design and dexterous execution supports a style of physical storytelling that will be familiar to fans of Kneehigh. At the performance I went to, the audience seemed to enjoy and get lost in a do-it-yourself style of theatre – one where Justin has to beat his way through hand-thrown snow-flurries; where mountain peaks and moose-heads are made from hoisted/folded sleeping bags respectively (and surprisingly effectively); where crevasses are easy to imagine under the three-foot high climbing rope Justin must teeter across; and where camp-fires are lit in tin cans with wire wool and a 9v battery (‘you should try this at home, kids!’ recommends Johnson with a mischievous grin at the audience). There is a strong comedy element and there was a lot of laughter in the audience throughout the performance. However, although this humour relies (somewhat uncomfortably) on stereotypes, and although it is definitely zany, I wouldn’t call it ‘Pythonesque’ as the show’s publicity does. In terms of audience interaction, there are some amusing moments involving intriguing furry shapes on the ends of long sticks, as well as some colourful lighting effects, all administered inexpertly by audience members.

John’s initial question, ‘why is my life so empty?’, which is repeated at the end of the show once his identity and relationship to Justin is revealed, seems at once serious and tongue-in-cheek. In relation to John’s suggestion at the beginning of the performance that ‘this was a story that will move you’, I wouldn’t say I was left out in the cold. I was moved and transported imaginatively to other places by way of the ingenuity of the production, and was moved almost to tears by the humour in places… But I did remain slightly at a remove from a narrative or conceptual coherence that would have driven the piece and connected me to it more profoundly.

www.makinprojects.co.uk

Nereus Pike ¦ Photo: Dan Bryan

Laura Mugridge, with Katy Schutte & Tom Adams: The Watery Journey of Nereus Pike

Nereus Pike ¦ Photo: Dan Bryan

Prepare for a dip in the ocean, and a dizzying soar through the air… a dance in the dark, and an eddy of storytelling, music, comedy, shipping forecasts, and animation. This is The Watery Journey of Nereus Pike, presented by Laura Mugridge as ‘a true story that I made up’, with live sound from Tom Adams (that he ‘also made up’). Here, you will meet two characters on a mysterious (and indeed watery) journey of discovery and destiny.

Nereus and Mariana live in a lighthouse. Among other things they enjoy the beautiful view from their window, and performing workout routines to Van Halen soundtracks. But their equilibrium is about to be disturbed. Mariana, interested in birds and travelling by hot-air balloon, is increasingly drawn upwards, towards the sky, and Nereus… well… he is preoccupied with the sea beneath them. As you let Mugridges’ sea-themed story wash over you, you may find it funny, sad, at times confessional, and often poetic. Throughout the show, your laughter may well be followed by moments of quiet contemplation. Through innovative use of sound, lighting and narration, Mugridge and Adams invite you to hear what you don’t see, and see beyond what is put in front of you, as they ponder the obscurity of some of life’s familiar but enigmatic pathways and desires. Boundaries between the imagination and ‘real events’ are played with and questioned. Mugridge’s detailed descriptions of lighthouse rooms, swirling expanses of ocean or airy stratospheres, will propel and rotate you through highs and lows, as you sit in your seat, watching and listening to this show, that is deceptively simple.

Watch out for some ingenious techniques for creating soundscapes of the ocean (bizarrely you may well want to recreate these, once you have seen the show), as well as the chance to peer through viewfinders at the ocean floor, fight with predatory sea-creatures, and, of course, impersonate sea-demons and extremely ugly fish. This participatory element tries to incorporate the audience as inhabitants of Nereus’ aquatic landscape, but does not reflect a skimping on the quality of the production, whose ideas on love, companionship and individuality, whenever they resurface, run surprisingly deep.

The show at Reading’s South Street Theatre drew audiences young and old from Reading and the surrounding towns. The couple sitting next to me were fans of stand up comedy, and curious to see this style of performance unconventionally mixed with theatrical and musical effects… not to mention an unusual preoccupation with nautical mythology. They left smiling when the house lights came back up, as did I.

www.lauramugridge.co.uk

The Watery Journey of Nereus Pike | Photo: Dan Bryan

Laura Mugridge, with Katy Schutte & Tom Adams: The Watery Journey of Nereus Pike

The Watery Journey of Nereus Pike | Photo: Dan Bryan

Prepare for a dip in the ocean, and a dizzying soar through the air… a dance in the dark, and an eddy of storytelling, music, comedy, shipping forecasts, and animation. This is The Watery Journey of Nereus Pike, presented by Laura Mugridge as ‘a true story that I made up’, with live sound from Tom Adams (that he ‘also made up’). Here, you will meet two characters on a mysterious (and indeed watery) journey of discovery and destiny.

Nereus and Mariana live in a lighthouse. Among other things they enjoy the beautiful view from their window, and performing workout routines to Van Halen soundtracks. But their equilibrium is about to be disturbed. Mariana, interested in birds and travelling by hot-air balloon, is increasingly drawn upwards, towards the sky, and Nereus… well… he is preoccupied with the sea beneath them. As you let Mugridges’ sea-themed story wash over you, you may find it funny, sad, at times confessional, and often poetic. Throughout the show, your laughter may well be followed by moments of quiet contemplation. Through innovative use of sound, lighting and narration, Mugridge and Adams invite you to hear what you don’t see, and see beyond what is put in front of you, as they ponder the obscurity of some of life’s familiar but enigmatic pathways and desires. Boundaries between the imagination and ‘real events’ are played with and questioned. Mugridge’s detailed descriptions of lighthouse rooms, swirling expanses of ocean or airy stratospheres, will propel and rotate you through highs and lows, as you sit in your seat, watching and listening to this show, that is deceptively simple.

Watch out for some ingenious techniques for creating soundscapes of the ocean (bizarrely you may well want to recreate these, once you have seen the show), as well as the chance to peer through viewfinders at the ocean floor, fight with predatory sea-creatures, and, of course, impersonate sea-demons and extremely ugly fish. This participatory element tries to incorporate the audience as inhabitants of Nereus’ aquatic landscape, but does not reflect a skimping on the quality of the production, whose ideas on love, companionship and individuality, whenever they resurface, run surprisingly deep.

The show at Reading’s South Street Theatre drew audiences young and old from Reading and the surrounding towns. The couple sitting next to me were fans of stand up comedy, and curious to see this style of performance unconventionally mixed with theatrical and musical effects… not to mention an unusual preoccupation with nautical mythology. They left smiling when the house lights came back up, as did I.

www.lauramugridge.co.uk