Writings

Jeramee, Hartleby and Oogelmore - Photo by Richard Davenport

Unicorn Theatre: Jeramee, Hartleby and Ooglemore

February 24th, 2016 by

Classic clowning is joyfully brought to life at the Unicorn Theatre for Gary Owen’s Jeramee, Hartleby and Ooglemore. It’s interesting to see the piece in the same week that I finally caught Owen’s Iphigenia in Splott, his celebrated play that is enjoying a run at the National Theatre’s Temporary Space. Whilst Iphigenia is a dense, […]

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I’m Hunt, She’s Darton

February 23rd, 2016 by

 Tea for two? Lisa Wolfe finds the place where food meets art, at the Hunt & Darton Café  ‘Regret nothing’ is a great life motto for some, but I still curse myself for leaving Jenny Hunt and Holly Darton’s SICK! Festival Café minutes too early one lunchtime in March 2014. My sister-in-law had just courageously […]

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Rhum and Clay - Hardboiled

Rhum and Clay Theatre Company & Beth Flintoff: Hardboiled

February 18th, 2016 by

For fans of film noir, Hardboiled is a delight. Inspired by classic thrillers like The Maltese Falcon, The Big Sleep and, later, Chinatown, Hardboiled translates the essence of this brooding genre into the language of theatre with great style and inventiveness. The story follows a young but determined private investigator, Sam Shadow, as he takes […]

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Akhe Theatre - Gobo. Digital Glossary

Akhe Theatre: Gobo. Digital Glossary

February 10th, 2016 by

A number of complex creations of metal, wood, wire, and paper litter the dimly lit stage; an electric guitar is strummed by a plectrum wired to a glass bowl swinging on the end of a long string; various tables, a fish tank, screens, pulleys, trolleys, and ropes lie inert, like the abandoned, half-realised experiments of […]

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Faux Theatre - Torn - Photo by Eoin Carey

Faux Theatre: Torn

February 10th, 2016 by

Torn invites the viewer into a private place. A place where madness is close, but will never be called such because this kind of madness is, perhaps, common to us all, and remains contained in moments of loneliness. There is no witness to call us mad. Though here, in Francisca Morton’s intimate exposé of one […]

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