Author Archives: Sarah Davies

About Sarah Davies

Sarah is a Drama Lecturer (UAL Acting and Applied Drama), Freelance Writer, Facilitator and Improviser who has written for Total Theatre Magazine since 2011. Recent work includes play commissions from Theatre Centre, Menagerie Theatre and Now Press Play, and facilitation/directing for The Marlowe Theatre, All The World's a Stage and Improv Gym. Her recent improv performances include Mount Olymprov (Greece) with Big Bang Improv Boston, Amsterdam Improv Marathon,and Improfest (London).

The Paper Birds: On the One Hand

Paper Bird’s ten-year anniversary show utilises a cast of four playing multiple roles to explore the stories of six women of various ages. Developed with communities in the North of England and through a detailed research process, this devised production explores a huge range of themes relevant to women – from growing to ageing, from being restless to settling down, and from feeling trapped to, ultimately and importantly, the notion of having choice.

Like previous productions In a Thousand Pieces and Thirsty, this piece has a strong visual aesthetic and communicates meaning through symbolism just as much as action. The opening stage picture presents us with a vintage-looking domestic scene suspended in an open box, where an armchair, bed and bath hang as if framed for posterity. The pre-set is accompanied by an acoustic soundtrack of guitar and cello, which sounds whimsical but quite upbeat, and proves to be an effective indication of how the show itself will pan out.
A voiceover of an elderly woman introduces one of the key themes of the show, explaining how we start in the womb, where we are growing older before we have even entered the world, and then the stories begin to unfold. Complex and intertwined narratives are presented, as we see a young woman desperate to study at Cambridge and her conflict with her mother who plays dumb but is not (a relationship likened well to Juliet and her Nurse), and another woman who is also desperate, this time to go travelling and change her unsatisfactory life after a dear friend dies. The middle-aged actor in particular plays a variety of characters, including the young woman’s mother, a lecturer and a woman hoping to sell the ‘Clip Toe’, a domestic device that she has invented. The idea here is that this actor is being asked to play lots of roles to symbolise the pressure on women to do just that, but at times the conceit feels a little laboured. More effective is the moment in which marketing people fail spectacularly to label the inventor character, asking if a woman is not a wife, a mother or a business woman then what is she? Instead, they invent a character for her, a sinister-seeming ‘have it all’ woman for whom the ‘Clip Toe’ would make life perfect.

For me, by far the most engaging story was that of the older woman and her elderly mother, both played exquisitely. It was in the exploration of ageing that the production really seemed to take flight, and it is no surprise to read that initial production research took the form of dialogue with women over 60. The show gained momentum as it explored dementia and loss of identity in a way that felt much more exciting than some of the previous sections, well delivered as they were. There was something very real about the portrayal of the elderly woman character in particular, and some of the more inventive physical sequences happened here, when the ensemble cast used rhythm and gesture sequences to indicate synapses misfiring as the elderly woman struggled to remember elements of her own story. Later too the cast worked together to help this character become mobile, then bathing her in the suspended set in a deeply poignant and affecting sequence. Associated issues to do with ageing were very well examined and played: the idea that roles for female actors seriously diminish with age; seeing your mother’s face in the mirror where once was your own; and the fact that hands show your age in a way that cannot be disguised. This part of the narrative felt stripped bare and all the more engaging for it.

There is plenty to spark interest and emotion here, and the performers are undeniably skilled, but what I have most loved about Paper Birds’ previous productions has been the innovation and physicality, which I felt at times, with the other character’s narratives, was not as compelling. The extensive research and well-rounded stories are clear here, but feminist theory is a little underused and some of the symbolism is too obvious to be really effective.

The message at the end is very clearly presented – that ultimately it is your life and your choice. This is a message of hope, for the elderly woman does not have hands that work, but can still dance with her feet. The remaining character’s conclusions are less clear, but then, they are still on a journey and there is the feeling that it is one that they do have the power to change.

Daniel Bye: How to Occupy an Oil Rig

The warm and immediately interactive nature of this production cannot but fail to engage its audience, who excitedly take up the challenge of forming their own mini protestor’s figure in Plasticine to add to the rest on stage before the action begins. As such, we are part of the performance from the off, which is an inventive and often humorous mix of storytelling and direct audience address, mixed in with clever elements of improvisation and multiple role-playing. Lucy Crimmens’ bold design complements the production very well; the stage is filled with giant colourful Lego blocks, used to good effect to indicate multiple locations and reinforce a sense of play.

This is essentially a production about protest: very well researched and structured, and interesting in the ways in which it informs us how to – covering everything from avoiding police brutality to, finally and inevitably, occupying an oil rig. It is a didactic show about hope and empowerment, undeniably Brechtian in both its avoidance of catharsis and its final message that spurs its audience on to create change. All this, however, is achieved not through lecture or academic analysis, but through play.

This is achieved to excellent effect by the engaging cast comprising co-director Daniel Bye as well as actors Jack Bennett and Kathryn Beaumont. The trio tell the story of two protestors, using names and facts from two people drawn from the audience. On this particular day, things almost become too postmodern as both audience members happen to be actors, so the actors on stage end up acting as actors, a humorous situation well acknowledged as the story progresses. The two characters journey from small acts of protest to the final oil rig occupation, almost inevitably falling in love along the way. The surprising twist at the end does much to highlight the complex issues abundant in the world of protesting. Idealism is confronted with realism, and the fall out is affecting – importantly, I left with a sense that I had learned and understood the issues in a way that was new.

Rhum & Clay: The Man in the Moone

Rhum & Clay’s Man in the Moone is a well-honed devised production full of big ideas and asking even bigger questions. Rhum & Clay were founded at the École Jacques Lecoq in 2010, and this training is clearly reflected in the skilled physicality and playful style of the piece. Centring on the theme of man’s desire to get to the moon, there is much to explore about humanity here, and the performance is peppered with references to past historical attempts, from Galileo to the 1960s space race. Such weighty history is explored in a style so charming and irreverent that it makes for compelling viewing, as aspects of clowning, multi-role playing and adept physical theatre sequences are used to great effect.

The ‘need’ driving this piece is clear, with the protagonist ‘The Man’ (Julian Spooner) having the seemingly impossible dream of living on the moon. I found that some of the most effective scenes occurred in the first half, where The Man dreams of escape whilst trying to function in a suffocating office environment which is beautifully executed by an ensemble cast comprised of Christopher Harrison, Daniel Wilcox and Matthew Wells. All of them are consummate performers, and it was the slick movement sequences and fast-paced set changes operated by the cast that really stood out for me. Office stereotypes were plumbed for all they were worth in a highly stylised manner, with braying city boys and enforced after-work drinks very well realised. After this, we move into more fantastical territory and here the narrative became a little harder to follow, but the skill and energy of the performers kept me engaged throughout and had me rooting for The Man to reach his goal.

Volcano Theatre: L.O.V.E

This explosion of a production romps through an in-depth exploration of Shakespeare’s sonnets, channelling the most physical of physical theatre forms and introducing elements of In Yer Face and Artuadian theatre along the way. The result is a risky and affecting piece that confronts the audience in challenging ways and feels fresh and relevant despite carrying the weight of a twenty year history behind it. Originally conceived in 1992, the piece has evolved through several incarnations of both cast and creative team but has remained thematically consistent thanks (as of course with Shakespeare’s work itself) to the universality of the issues explored.

This passionate exploration of the sonnets is breath-taking in the way it deconstructs them, ploughing the poems for meaning and subtext in a huge range of imaginative and creative ways. Sometimes viewed as explorations of courtly love, here the sonnets are presented as far darker matter altogether – as full of passion, violent emotion and yearning as any tumultuous love affair ever was. The vocal ability of the cast brought meaning and emotion to life in a way that purely academic study could never do, with Mairi Phillips in particular achieving a harmonious and emotionally taught delivery that I could have listened to all day! The cast (which also included Tibu Fortes and Joseph Reay-Reid) were exceptionally strong physical performers who performed the relentless stage business with guts and exceptional skill.

Despite very much respecting the skill and creativity of the piece, it was this relentlessness that did begin to numb me a little towards the final section of the piece. The visual spectacle of extreme physicality and sexuality, with characters at the height of sometimes violent passions skidding their way through champagne and roses via knives and punches, is undeniably extreme and thought provoking. However, it was the earlier tender moments and the variety of depictions of love that really appealed to me, and I was led to question whether the later extreme portrayals diminished some of the piece’s initial virtues. In this respect, there was certainly much food for thought and the sheer physicality and expressiveness of the production makes it exciting viewing.

Undeb Theatre: Gardening: For The Unfulfilled And Alienated

This exceptional site-specific production really delivered everything that I hope for theatre to be: it was exciting, irreverent, experiential and often hilarious, and despite being short in duration at thirty minutes, its impact upon me was huge. Set in a tiny shed filled with gardening paraphernalia, an audience of two await the entrance of Owain, the gardener whose story we are there to hear. The narrative germinates slowly, interspersed with tea drinking and trips in and out of the shed, allowing for effective character development and a sense of anticipation in the audience. The audience’s role is in fact beautifully balanced throughout, with Richard Corgan’s taut performance always engaging but never confrontational. There is an implicit trust between audience and performer in this environ, and a fine balance is well achieved by director Hannah Banister, making for an extremely absorbing experience.

Undeb Theatre (founded in 2009) are a Welsh new writing company, and the script itself – by their writer in residence, Brad Birch – is incredibly well written, with a lyrical and darkly humorous style that tells the story with wit, pace and punch. The bittersweet narrative centres on Owain’s dissatisfaction with his life and the ways in which a recently found love of gardening has helped him find escape. A benign Alan Titchmarsh however he is not, and he soon discovers that the key to creating life in his barren landscape appears to be via a material much darker than standard fertiliser. The twists and turns in this story were delivered with expert skill by Corgan, whose tone veers from gently conversational to barely concealed aggression in the blink of an eye, in a storytelling style that had me hanging on every word. This is a production that I cannot recommend highly enough, both in terms of the innovative ideas and the sheer excitement of the experience.