Author Archives: Dorothy Max Prior

Dorothy Max Prior

About Dorothy Max Prior

Dorothy Max Prior is the editor of Total Theatre Magazine, and is also a performer, writer, dramaturg and choreographer/director working in theatre, dance, installation and outdoor arts. Much of her work is sited in public spaces or in venues other than regular theatres. She also writes essays and stories, some of which are published and some of which languish in bottom drawers – and she teaches drama, dance and creative non-fiction writing. www.dorothymaxprior.com

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow: Without Walls at Brighton Festival 2019

Rain, wind, sunshine, hailstones – and all within the hour. Ah yes, the great outdoors in the UK in May!

The Without Walls programme brings a number of outdoor arts commissions and other shows to a consortium of festivals across the UK. Brighton Festival opens the season – and being so early in the year, there have been many previous occasions when play has had to be stopped due to the weather, as happened this year, when four shows were presented on the lower promenade by Brighton beach on Saturday 11 May. And as the programme was confined to one day rather than two (as has been the case in past Brighton Festivals), there was no second chance to see the work another day – although there were multiple showings throughout the day.  I was unlucky in picking the afternoon, I believe all four shows went ahead in their morning or lunchtime slots.

So there was a lot of disruption – but over a three-and-a-half hour period between 3.30 and 7pm (which included a fair amount of gaps spent huddling under cafe awnings), I did manage to see two of the shows in the programme, and a short excerpt of a third one.

In the order seen: first up was Talawa Theatre Company with The Tide.

Talawa Theatre Company: The Tide. Photo Summer Dean

 

Co-created by writer Ryan Cameron and choreographer Jade Hackett, The Tide ‘explores the narratives and experiences of migration within The United Kingdom whilst holding a mirror to an evolving British culture… it unpicks the stories and imagery of the most pertinent issue of our era: migration.’ 

I like the design and scenography: a moveable door (number 10!) through which arrivals and departures take place; the inevitable vintage suitcases (no physical theatre show complete without one – we’ve all done it!); simple, neutral coloured costumes, with a variety of extras such as blue silk scarves becoming sashes, turbans, sarongs, and cumberbands; tin bowls and jugs used for a nicely enacted sequence of ritual hand-washing, gently drawing in some audience members; chairs that turn into barrow-boy stalls (‘English spuds!’ ‘20 mangos for a pound!’) or political soap-boxes. Jade Hackett’s choreography is fine, featuring some nice hero/chorus ensemble work, and a few intensely acrobatic moments. There’s a drummer, whose percussive riffs work well with the live action and merges with the pre-recorded music (guitar, bass and keyboards) that comes in later in the piece. There are some good characterisations by the cast, who play a multiple of roles, representing a diverse range of migrant experiences, with an enjoyable babel of languages emerging as a kind of grommelage undercurrent, rather than a spoken text we need to hear clearly.

But the dramaturgy of the piece is unclear. Yes, I get the broad brushstrokes, and there are some lovely details, as listed above – but the show doesn’t really have the drive and oomph needed for street work. A scene about citizenship and taking the oath of loyalty to the queen comes across as too simplistic a parody, and it doesn’t seem to say anything much beyond the obvious, which is that citizenship tests are silly. In the final five or ten minutes, the piece really comes to life – and this is because we suddenly get the extra element of a very beautiful pre-recorded spoken text coming into the mix and holding the space – a poetic reflection that gives a much needed extra layer of depth and meaning: ‘This is my home. The bruises are fading, but some scars remain’ says the voice. There is now focus, and a unification of all the elements of the piece. Talawa are a highly experienced company who have a strong track record of indoor theatre work covering three decades, but The Tide feels like a show made by people who do not yet fully understand how to structure and formulate an outdoor piece. It is praiseworthy that Without Walls want to encourage more theatre-makers into outdoor arts – but it also feels important to acknowledge that making indoor theatre and making street theatre are, in fact, two quite different things.

I then made my second attempt to see On Edge by Justice in Motion – the earlier scheduled show was called off, as even though rain had stopped, the ground and scaffolding set were deemed unsafe for the performers, and of course safety must be paramount, but after Talawa’s show ends, they make the call to try again, and we are summonsed back to their site, on the other side of the i360 tower.

 

Justice in Motion: On Edge. Photo Summer Dean

 

And we’re off, hurrah! A man sits on the top of the scaffolding. He consults what looks to be a map, and is moved around on sections of the set that come apart, to represent (I presume) vans and trains carrying him across continents. At least, that’s how I’m reading it – the rather swanky programme says the piece is about the construction industry as a site of modern day slavery, and I’m thinking about the sections of Sunjeev Sahota’s book The Year of the Runaways which detail Indian migrants’ experiences on building sites in the North of England. Our protagonist removes his civvies, and is decked out in a workman’s hi-vis vest and hard-hat, joining the construction team. We are just moving into a more dynamic ensemble dance/parkour section – and this is a big ensemble, eight men drawn from the UK, Germany, Switzerland, and Spain  – with what seems like is going to be a Meyerhold type ‘humans forming themselves into one big machine’ section – buckets swinging from feet to hands, bodies turning around metal poles – when down comes the rain. And that’s that. They call off the show, take a bow – and we all wander off, disappointed. So, impossible to offer much critical opinion having only seen a third of the show, although going on what I saw, I fear it may possibly have suffered from some of the same problems as The Tide, in attempting to deal with ‘serious issues’ in an accessible way, but ending up being a little over-simplified. But I am aware that it may well have shifted radically as it progressed – who knows what I missed seeing? Also to note that this is another experienced company making their first outdoor show…

 

Motionhouse: Wild. Photo courtesy of Xtrax

 

I shelter for a while, then as the rain eases off, move over to the next stage area, which also has a set made of metal poles – this for Without Walls regulars, Motionhouse, with Wild. Will they be going ahead? Sadly no. Hopefully I will catch them somewhere else this summer, and learn what it is to be wild.

One thing strikes me about this year’s programme, which is that all four shows being presented on this Without Walls day are static, movement-based pieces – and three of the four shows involve metal scaffolding structures. And if we think about this for a moment, we’ll realise that if anything is going to be seriously affected by rain, it is a static, movement-based show that involves a big scaff structure, which will of course immediately become slippery, even in light rain. I’m not for a moment saying these shows shouldn’t be programmed – they should, as there is always the ‘what about the weather?’ question in British outdoor arts, and this is the risk any of us working in street theatre take. But perhaps there could be more thought about the combination of work programmed on one day, so that shows that are a little more weather-resistant are included in the mix…

 

 

Initiative.dkf: Scalped. Photo by XTRAX

 

But back to the day’s programme: further east, we have the staging for Initiative.dkf:’s Scalped in place, also featuring another kind of metal structure. They are scheduled in for 6.30, but there are rumours that because of the cancellations of other shows, Scalped might be brought forward, if it happens at all. It’s now 5.30, so it’s time for tea, drunk huddling under a cafe awning, hoping that the show will go ahead.

And – yes, they are, bravo! The performance area is being swept by a team of broom and mop pushers. A crowd gathers slowly (nothing like people sweeping to attract a crowd) and after a couple of technical hitches, it starts.

What a show it turns out to be – it is well worth the wait. Exploring and confronting ‘life as a fashion show’ Scalped is a collaboration between creative producer Wofai and movement director, writer, and co-producer Damilola DK Fashola. It takes as its starting point the assertion that: ‘For black women one of the most common shared experiences is a passive but ever present scrutiny. From what you wear to the way you walk, and most especially hair. Whether permed, braided, or in locs, black hair is “political”’

Scalped is a brilliant example of work that can tackle a serious issue whilst staying accessible and entertaining. Grace Jones is a cited inspiration – but I can also see parallels with Liz Aggiss’s Grotesque Dancer in its adventurous and humorous bringing together of popular dance with a kind of vaudevillian expressionist angst. It is performed by six feisty young Black women, who collaborated on the creation of the piece.

They start the show standing or lying still in distorted Fosse-esque poses, as words tumble from the speakers: ‘Oh, your hair looks really funky today, innit… Yeah, really suits your personality… Only you could pull that off… Can I touch it? Is that real?’

Which is an opportunity to say that the soundtrack (by Tyrone Isaac-Stuart) is brilliant, mulching together a whole array of fabulous dance tracks and found sounds with spoken word, using cut-ups and edits to create really rich and resonant sound motifs. I love the slowed down Spice Girls, for example. ‘Tell me what you want, what you really really want…’ emerges as a monster’s groan, as the women sculpt their faces into fabulously horrible gargoyle gurns. Paulina Domaszewska’s costume design is brilliant – they start in little black maid dresses with cream collars and cuffs, progressing to Move Up to the Bumper figure-hugging black ciré, and pale pink and black space-age circus leotards, with a fashion-show-worthy finale (on that metal structure, which is otherwise not used very much) in ever more eye-catching wigs.

Most importantly, this is a show that works well outdoors – very well. The blazing soundtrack, the clever choreography, the intention, the delivery – it all comes together brilliantly. The performers milk every moment – they play to the crowd and with the crowd. They are down on that hard, wet ground getting their knickers muddy with ne’er a care in the world. They strut and stride and twerk and groove with endless energy, then they flow and flock and pose effortlessly with elegance and grace. There is a constant, witty interplay between the soundtrack and the physical performance. The movement direction gives us a pleasing evolution of shapes, patterns, groupings, using the three sides of the performance space with a clever awareness of the dynamics of outdoor space and relationship to audience. It’s an object lesson on how to perform in the street, restoring my faith in outdoor arts. I skip away energised – let it rain, let it rain, let it rain!

 

Featured image (top): Initiative.dkf: Scalped 

Brighton Festival is a partner in Without Walls, working with festivals and artists in bringing outdoor arts to people in towns and cities across the UK. Other festivals presenting a Without Walls programme include Norfolk and Norwich Festival, Greenwich + Docklands International Festival,  Winchester Hat Fair, Just So, and Stockton International Riverside Festival.

 www.withoutwalls.uk.com

Other outdoor arts shows presented in Brighton Festival are Luke Jerram’s Museum of the Moon, 17–20 May 2019, Queens Park Brighton, and Thingumajig Theatre’s Ghost Caribou, 18 May, also in Queens Park (Ghost Caribou is supported by Without Walls). Also supported by Without Walls: Upswing’s Catch Me, and Apocalyptic’s Circus My House both appear on the Our Place programme, on 18 May at Manor Gym, East Brighton; and at Hangleton Community Centre on 25 May.

www.brightonfestival.org

 

 

Bryony Kimmings: I’m a Phoenix, Bitch

‘You’re in safe hands’ says Bryony Kimmings, towards the start of the show. She makes a joke of it – she does this for a living, she’s got insurance, she’s DBS police-checked – but the truth is, we are safe, and she is safe. Because despite everything – the intense autobiographical material, the recounting of terrible and traumatic events, the pain and the drama and the catharsis manifest onstage – this is theatre, delivered with immense skill and presence by a highly talented and experienced theatre-maker. We are taken to the edge of the precipice, and we are brought back again. Harrowing though it all is, I never feel that she will push us or herself too far. It is all done with kindness, and delivered like a gift.

I’m a Phoenix, Bitch – unsurprisingly – is a survival story. There are numerous Bryonys in the show, all played with great aplomb by, yes, Bryony. In a blonde wig and red sequinned dress, she is old Bryony – the cabaret star Bryony who drank and danced and dragged up and created solo shows with names like Sex Idiot and 7 Day Drunk. Merging live action and screen image (using live feed video), we also meet the country-pop singing Bryony who always feels she needs to impress new boyfriends with her all-day breakfasts, the new age Blissed Out Paradise of Motherhood Bryony who is planning a home birth surrounded by flowers and candles. Then, after the birth, there’s the wasted Ophelia Bryony who is not waving but drowning in a muddy mire of post-natal breakdown spurred on by a disintegrating relationship and a very sick baby.

In talking of the birth and the first year of her little boy Frank’s life, she gives us one of the most potent images of maternal love I’ve ever encountered – it is as if, she says, someone has pulled her heart out from her chest and placed it, raw and bleeding, in her arms. We learn of the baby’s endless epileptic fits and the many emergency hospital visits and appointments with consultants (Bryony and partner Tim now isolated in their distress, and no longer living together), the story told using the brilliant device of a bench-press and dumb-bells – Bryony lifting ever-heavier weights as she repeats her mantra, I Am Strong, after sharing each harrowing new chapter in baby Frank’s life.

The show freely commandeers a wide range of theatrical devices in the telling of its tales. There’s plenty of direct-to-audience patter, with the familiar Bryony Kimmings wit always on hand ‘Farrow and fucking Ball on every wall, mate’ she says, talking of creating her dream home, the cottage in the countryside she is living in with partner Tim. This dream home is represented onstage in model form – a kind of spooky dolls house falling apart at the seams, with the post-natal depression, sick and crying baby, advancing rainwater from the overflowing stream, mice infestations in the thatched roof, and disintegrating marriage all seemingly contributing to its disintegration, lending it an evermore nightmarish aspect. Live feed video is once again used to good effect – but this time it is tiny dolls inside the house who we see in close up.

In a long, mostly non-verbal and visual, section a ‘wild witch in the woods’ Bryony is seen in the forest beyond the house, dressed like a Wilkie Collins character in a long white gown, communing with her old red-sequin-clad self. Here, as in other sections, the visual design, sound composition, and physical action come together brilliantly to create what can genuinely be called a total theatre – form and content are merged seamlessly throughout the show.

There is resolution, and we are brought full-circle to present-day Bryony’s resolve to stay strong, and just keep on keeping on. She can see the road ahead now. She has moved to Brighton, she’s a single mother, and she’s doing the best for her little family. She doesn’t know what’ll happen with Frank, but she is recording little messages for him daily, so he will perhaps one day know something of his early life, and his mother’s journey. All ‘part of her healing process’ – a line she delivers with typical Bryony irony, humour and mock contempt. Significantly, her inner critic (personified, using a clever vocal effect, as a middle-aged male theatre producer) is now silenced.

So there we are – take a bow, Bryony Kimmings, invincible and fearless woman. She’s a Phoenix, Bitch. And you’d better believe it.

Featured image (top) Bryony Kimmings: I’m a Phoenix, Bitch. Photo by  The Other Richard

 

Celebration! The Total Theatre Magazine Print Archive is online – join us at ACCA on Friday 3 May

News Release – 23 April 2019

The Total Theatre Magazine Print Archive is now online – Dip in to totaltheatre.org.uk/archive Celebrate with us at ACCA on Friday 3 May 2019

For over 30 years, Total Theatre Magazine has celebrated and supported alternative theatre and performance practice. Every issue of the magazine in print (1989–2012) is now online, free to view

Join us at Attenborough Centre of Creative Arts in Sussex at 6.30pm on Friday 3 May to celebrate the successful launch of the Archive, and the completion of our National Lottery Heritage funded project – enjoy the Totally Total Pub Quiz, a glass of fizz, and a slice of cake!

We are delighted to announce that the Total Theatre Magazine Print Archive is live and kicking – a valuable resource for artists, students, scholars, journalists, and anybody interested in Britain’s alternative theatre and performance history. This has been made possible by a substantial grant through the National Lottery Heritage Fund’s Our Heritage programme.

The Total Theatre Magazine Print Archive website features every print issue of Total Theatre Magazine (1989–2012), available as a PDF, with the original design preserved; together with all of the magazine’s feature articles and reviews reformatted into a fully searchable archive that can be explored via issue number, writer, artist or company, artform or topic.

Over the past few weeks, we have been publishing new material created in response to the archive: interviews with established artists and arts industry giants whose paths have run in tandem to Total Theatre Magazine’s print history; commissioned articles by the magazine’s regular contributors; and new writings that have emerged from the work we have done with our Heritage Volunteers and with the members of the Artists as Writers group mentored as part of the programme.

To celebrate the launch of the website, and the culmination of the Total Theatre Magazine Print Archive project, friends, colleagues and supporters of Total Theatre Magazine are invited to join the editorial team at Attenborough Centre for Creative Arts, Falmer, Sussex, on Friday 3 May at 6.30pm. There will be cake! RSVP to editorial@totaltheatre.org.uk

After the celebration, please join us to watch Total Theatre Award winner Bryony Kimmings’ critically acclaimed show, I’m a Phoenix, Bitch. This show, co-commissioned by Attenborough Centre for the Creative Arts with Battersea Arts Centre and Arts Centre Melbourne, is Bryony’s first solo show for over a decade and is a headline show of the opening weekend of Brighton Fringe. Tickets are available to purchase via Attenborough Centre for the Creative Arts box office on https://www.attenboroughcentre.com/events/2556/ bryony-kimmings-im-a-phoenix-bitch or via the Brighton Fringe website: https://www.brightonfringe.org/ whats-on/bryony-kimmings-im-a-phoenix-bitch-135247

Editor’s Notes:

About Total Theatre Magazine:

For over 30 years Total Theatre has been at the forefront of the advocacy, celebration and documentation of contemporary theatre and performance – including the support of forms and practices which have often been ignored, or not treated with the seriousness they merit, by other publications.

Total Theatre Magazine was in print 1989–2012, close to 100 issues. Thanks to National Lottery players, this archive will be preserved for everyone to engage with, all content provided free to view. The new Total Theatre Print Archive website was launched in March 2019 after a year-long process that has engaged a team of professional editors, writers and archivists; working with a group of volunteers who have diligently scanned, entered data, and learnt about writing, editing and archiving processes. Newly commissioned responses to the archive are now going live on the website.

For the new Total Theatre Magazine Print Archive, see totaltheatre.org.uk/archive 

Total Theatre Magazine is unique as an artist-led, practice-based publication and resource that celebrates, supports and documents innovative work by artists and companies creating ‘total theatre’ – a term we resist defining too tightly, but which includes: physical, visual and ensemble devised theatre; dance-theatre; mime and clown; contemporary circus; cabaret and new variety; puppetry and mask; street arts, outdoor performance, and site-specific theatre; live art performance and new hybrid artforms.

Total Theatre Magazine is managed and published by Aurelius Productions CIC. The core editorial team is Dorothy Max Prior (editor), John Ellingsworth (web editor), Beccy Smith (associate editor) and Thomas Wilson (contributing editor). www.totaltheatre.org.uk and www.totaltheatre.org.uk/archive

About Total Theatre Network:

Total Theatre Magazine operates in collaboration with, but financially independent of, the Total Theatre Awards at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, which are produced by the organisation Total Theatre Network. See www.totaltheatrenetwork.org

About the National Lottery Heritage Fund:

Thanks to National Lottery players, the National Lottery Heritage Fund invest money to help people across the UK explore, enjoy and protect the heritage they care about – from the archaeology under our feet to the historic parks and buildings we love; from precious memories and collections to rare wildlife. See www.heritagefund.org.uk

Our Partners and Supporters:

Total Theatre Magazine has received financial support from a number of leading institutions and organisations, including: Rose Bruford College of Theatre & Performance, Royal Conservatoire Scotland, and Attenborough Centre for Creative Arts. The project has been supported by The Keep National Archive Centre, Sussex. We have also received support in-kind from a diverse range of arts organisations and individuals.

About Attenborough Centre for Creative Arts

Attenborough Centre for the Creative Arts is an interdisciplinary arts hub connecting University of Sussex with wider regional, national and international arts communities. The centre presents a seasonal programme of performance, dance, live art, film, music, discussion & debate and digital practices. Attenborough Centre for the Creative Arts is guided by the values championed by Sir Richard Attenborough (former chancellor of University of Sussex) in his life and work: human rights, social justice, creative education and access to the arts for all. Michael Attenborough CBE is the patron of Attenborough Centre for the Creative Arts. www.attenboroughcentre.com

Website: www.totaltheatre.org.uk
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Press enquiries: Dorothy Max Prior max@totaltheatre.org.uk
+44 7752 142526

Download the PDF of the press release here: Total Theatre Magazine Print Archive Celebration at ACCA 3 May 2019

The Actors Space Comes of Age

The Actors Space is a renowned international centre of theatre and film, located in the Catalan hills, just one hour from Barcelona. In summer 2019, the centre marks 21 years of ‘empowering the actor to be free to play’. Dorothy Max Prior spoke to the founders and co-directors, Marian Masoliver and Simon Edwards, at the end of last season’s Dramatic Writing residency

‘Sometimes I have to pinch myself – can it be 20 years? We didn’t think of The Actors Space as a 20-year or 30-year project – but so far so good!’

So says Marian Masoliver, co-founder and co-director of The Actors Space, which she runs with her partner in life and work, Simon Edwards, speaking in summer 2018 as the centre celebrated 20 years in operation.

The two met at the Lecoq school in Paris. After graduating, they both – separately and together – performed, directed, taught, and toured (with companies such as La Fura del Baus and Kneehigh) before deciding to set up a residential summer school in a beautiful old farmhouse in the hills of Catalunya, in the tiny hamlet, close to the Roman town of Vic, where Marian’s family had lived for many generations.

And so, for every year of the past two decades, they have welcomed students of all ages and experiences, from all corners of the globe, to participate in their unique actor-centred programmes.

‘In a typical workshop of eighteen people, there might be people from across Europe, India, Russia, the USA, Australia the Middle East… It is very interesting as a teacher to see how they all work together – beautiful to see that, and the different ways people approach theatre,’ says Marian.

This internationalist approach is key to both of their beliefs. In life – as in theatre – international collaboration, harmony, resolving difference, and learning to live together are essential, to combat and contradict what Simon calls ‘the strange distorted mirror of modern media’. In a world in which the US presidency has turned itself into a sickening reality TV show; the Spanish government have cast themselves as bullies, taking agency away from the people of Catalunya; and the Brexit obsessed UK parliament has descended into a pantomime, political life today has moved beyond anything we could satirise as they are all doing it so well at it themselves. What on earth, then, can we do?

‘Celebrate the things that unite rather than divide,’ says Simon. ‘The things that divide us change – they aren’t fixed – but the things that unite us are the same. We always gravitate towards peace.’  He talks of ‘sweet banality – the fruits of gratitude, joy, affection’.

 

View from the roof of The Actors Space – a beautiful setting in the hills of Catalunya

 

If you visit The Actors Space, the peaceful and communal ethos of the place becomes abundantly clear from the start. Yes, the work in the studio is important – it’s what has brought us here – but there is so much more. There’s the shared meals – home-cooked, using local produce as much as possible – taken around long wooden tables. There are the evenings after dinner, sitting and talking, or watching the bats and owls fly over the tree tops. There are the morning walks, through beautiful countryside, and the opportunity to swim in the pool, or just sit in the sun and read or write. There’s something very special about a residency in such a lovely environment, and the people you are with for the week become everything – family, friends, work colleagues. A tight-knit international community.

But what of the work inside that beautiful barn that serves as the training space? Simon says, ‘our strapline is “celebrating creativity” – and we really mean it!’

How the Actors Space operates, and what the work entails, has, Marian says, ‘developed organically’. It has grown from their training with Jacques Lecoq (who never espoused the notion of a ‘method’ in any case) to developing their own way of teaching, based on the observation of life, influenced by the work they have done around the world, and by their growing interest in film-making, both drama and documentary. Both speak of the need to continuously grow, change and develop as a teacher; to learn from your students and from the world.

‘In Iran, running a clown workshop, I learnt how much people valued coming together to tell stories, making each other laugh, blowing off steam –  they influenced me deeply,’ says Simon.

‘As soon as there is a method, you’ve killed it,’ says Marian. ‘Killed the baby. Put it in a box. I teach in other places, and I am always researching.’ Tout bouge, as Monsieur Lecoq might say (and indeed, often did).

 

 

Teachers Marian Masoliver and Maria Codinachs and their group of Bouffon students take to the streets of Vic

So, having started firmly wedded to the physical theatre work learnt with Lecoq – embracing movement theatre, mime, mask and clown – Simon and Marian have, whilst always honouring those roots and core practices – moved into very many other ways of working. They spend part of their year working on film projects, which have recently included some extraordinary documentary work with child soldiers in Colombia; and they have also worked in Ecuador creating radio pieces built around gang-leaders’ stories. Truth and reconciliation, and the part that theatre could play in those process (akin in some ways to the work of Augusto Boal) is a growing interest – and may at some point find its way into more of their work. ‘Even a small amount of expression of truth has power,’ says Simon – talking of their time in Ecuador and Colombia, but it applies equally to all the work they do. It is vital not to be cowed by oppression and injustice; to resist the tyrants and the bullies; to see that justice wants to be seen to be done, and that this is the natural human order. Collective hope is important, to counter the feelings people (worldwide) have of being isolated or abandoned. Theatre, they believe, is a healing force, bringing people together – be it 8 or 800 people.

Inspired by these sentiments, Simon and Marian have also, in recent years, become involved with a local Carnival organisation in the small Catalonian town of Mollet (near Barcelona) – an opportunity for community celebration, and to laugh together at the ridiculousness of human behaviour.

Whatever media or environment they work in, they feel that they are always true to themselves: ‘This is the terrain: it is always about life, human relationships, how we deal with each other – our perceptions, dreams, realities…’

Wherever, whatever: ‘We need to hear stories,’ says Marian. ‘Who are we? What are the choices?’ These questions are paramount – and universal. The work they both do year-round, outside of The Actors Space, informs what they bring to the residencies there. As does their personal experiences – as a couple, as parents, as members of their local community (the centre is their year-round home).

 

 

The Art of Comedy workshop at The Actors Space

 

Meanwhile, the summer residencies at the school – influenced by all of the couple’s interests and skills – have grown to include acting to camera, directing for film and theatre, and dramatic scriptwriting workshops.

These workshops have joined The Art of Comedy, which takes the student on a fabulous journey from full mask to red nose to creating comic sketches on-camera (written about by Total Theatre here); and The Creative Actor, which brings together Lecoq influenced physicality with a development of the complete actor, voice and all.

‘Why separate the voice from the body?’ says Marian ‘We speak! The voice is part of the body…. Stanislavski played a very big part [in the development of the actor] but Lecoq said, Why just the head? What about the rest of the body? Physical training is very important but that doesn’t mean you can’t use words… Like a musician, you need to learn all your notes! Use the full spectrum to create.’

Simon agrees: ‘I don’t see the division either. Actors need the freedom to bring to the project whatever is required… it is about finding the universality – like the baby, we move from movement, to feelings, to relationship, to the language of sounds, then to words.’

Nevertheless, it is good to note that, as Simon puts it: ’In action, there’s meaning. In words, there can be the opposite of meaning. Look at the times we are in: lies upon lies! You try lying with your body – you can do it, physically you can lie – but not like the lies in the twisted world of fake presidents, fake news, and “alternative facts”.’ Where are the Fools? he wonders. The Fools in the courts of the oligarchs who can bring them down to a human level. He goes on to muse that after the First World War, Dadaism and Surrealism came to the fore. ‘Is there a new surrealism? The work needs to be created – to burst the egos of these maniacs who think they are in control of things.’

 

Directing Performance students, on location in the countryside near to The Actors Space

 

Ah, lies and truth… Simon and Marian are both fans of the screenwriting guru Robert McKee, and often quote his strapline, Write the Truth: ‘A culture cannot evolve without honest, powerful storytelling,’ says McKee, ‘When society repeatedly experiences glossy, hollowed-out, pseudo-stories, it degenerates.’

It is what’s needed in these difficult times – although both are keen to emphasise that ‘writing’ takes many forms in theatre. For example, in the classic Lecoq exercise on the archetypal cardinal sins, when the mask of Pride meets the mask of Jealousy, what happens? There may be no words involved, but the encounter in the performance space is content – it is writing that is written on the body. And (to stay with the filmmaking Ten Commandments): Content is King.

Marian speaks of ‘the creative triangle – writing, acting, directing’ as part of the same act of creativity. ‘The creative actor is writing when they devise – everything goes together.’

With the acknowledgement of the importance of all three elements in this triangle came the development of first the Directing Performance course, and later the Dramatic Writing course which saw its first outing in 2018. In the Directing Performance course, participants learn how to direct actors by giving them freedom within a clear structure, guiding them to create their best work. Participants explore the fundamentals of theatre and film directing, and learn to devise scenes and work up scripts. They also experience what it is like to be directed – the creative triangle can be separated into three distinct roles, but it is good for everyone to have at least some experience of all three!

The Dramatic Writing course (which grew out of the Directing course, just as the Directing course grew out of the Creative Actor) was built on a similar principle of embracing a ‘total’ experience. Yes, there is writing involved – lots of it, with scripts being revised and brought from page to stage daily. But everyone also takes part in the physical theatre warm-ups and workshops, exploring the principles of play, the body in space, and the push/pull essence of dramatic conflict. The acting and devising processes employed inform the writing, and vice versa.

 

 

The Creative Actor at The Actors Space

 

Regardless of which workshop they are enrolled on, the crucial thing for participants is, as Simon puts it, for them ‘to really explore what they are interested in, to trust their life experiences’. He talks of the theatre process as being like a sophisticated extension of child’s play. Explore the conflicts, find the resolutions. ‘Entertainment is important,’ says Simon, ‘Fun is underestimated. But we don’t want to just indulge, or be frivolous. We want to find the poetic depths – our common humanity…’ And later, he says: ‘It is not about making change, it is about sharing truth.’ Speak your truth, write your truth, act your truth.

‘Theatre,’ says Marian, ‘Will not die. There is something about being in the moment, unedited. It is very different to film. It’s immediacy is special’. And, she emphasises, even though the annual courses might bear the same titles, each one is unique – developing its own special character depending on who is there. As they say on their website: ‘Each workshop creates a new culture, one that shares our common humanity. Participants are freed from their own cultural constrictions and opened to fresh possibilities and new ways of working.’

And this is a good moment to note that there are always newcomers, but also very many ‘returners’ – people who have come back repeatedly over the past 20 years to this unique and special centre for theatre-makers and film-makers of all ages, experiences and nationalities. Marian says: ‘There is no Actors Space company, but it feels a bit like a company – there are people who come every year. There is a lot of trust – an environment of trust and safety. We only do this in the summer, which makes it very special.’

Simon talks of the returning experienced artists, and what they gain from the repeat experience, as having something to do with ‘the capacity to be a beginner [again] – allowing themselves to explore and discover’. And, on doing new things, and how successful that can be, he says: ‘Beginner’s luck isn’t luck, it’s a principle to be developed. In the not-knowing, inviting in the discovery.’

To be at the Actors Space is truly a gift – a way to give yourself the time and space for artistic renewal.

‘As long as people want to come here we will continue, it’s a wonderful experience for us and them’ says Marian. ‘Lecoq taught until he died – and we will continue as long as we are enjoying it.’

Long may that be!

 

Marian Masoliver (second from right), Simon Edwards (third from right) and workshop participants

 

Images by Janneke Aalbers.

The Actors Space provide high quality training for actors, directors, writers, teachers and students of dramatic art.

Dorothy Max Prior attended the inaugural Dramatic Writing residency at The Actors Space in July 2018 as a guest of the centre. She has previously taken part in The Art of Comedy, Bouffon, and The Nomadic Fool residencies at The Actors Space, all previously written about for Total Theatre Magazine; and has led the Dance Yourself Stupid Eccentric and Comic Dance workshop there.

This summer’s residential workshops are:

Directing Performance

19–27 July 2019 (including arrival and departure dates)

The Creative Actor

1–9 August 2019 (inclusive of arrival and departure dates)

The Art of Comedy

13–21 August 2019 (including arrival and departure dates)

For full details and to book see The Actors Space website.

 

 

 

Xavier de Sousa: Post

 

So who remembers Houseparty? Daytime TV show from the 1970s, reality TV before reality TV existed, fly-on-the-wall kind of thing, ahead of its time. Featuring a  group of friends (‘housewives’) gathered round a table talking about – whatever. Often with cooking. Well, Xavier de Sousa’s Post is a bit like that, except that the people gathered around his table are strangers rather than friends. But isn’t every stranger just a friend you haven’t yet met?

The food is a star player in this show – and smell, touch, and taste are as much a part of the dramaturgy as the usual elements of sight and sound. There is the sizzle, the smoke, then the smell of charred chorizo; the invitation to nibble on sweet bread and tiny olives; and a tray full of throat-burning cachaça shots passed through the audience, who stand for a toast – ‘up, down, to the left, to the right, to the crotch, to the sky – SAUDE!’.

But best of all – the crowning glory – is the caldo verde. This, we learn, is Portugal’s national dish, a delicious soup of green vegetables, garlic and onion. It would normally have the chorizo in it too, but this is kept separate, in a spirit of inclusion, so that everyone in the room – carnivores and vegetarians alike – can get at least a taste of this magnificent brew. Xavi has added a dash of paprika to mimic the smokey chorizo taste… So right here in the onstage making and eating of this soup are three of the central themes of Post: cultural identity, inclusion and hospitality.

But let’s backtrack a bit. We arrive in the space – a regular theatre set-up, end-on, with tiered seating – to see our host already in action, dressed in black trousers and overskirt, a red cumberband and a white shirt, sporting a handsome moustache and a rakish black felt hat. A folkloric 3/4 tune plays repeatedly as he spins across the performance space, gracefully avoiding the big wooden table centre-stage. Once we are all in our seats, he stops the dance, and welcomes us in with a personal introduction. We are told that he is from the  Coimbra region in Portugal, moving to London thirteen years ago to experience the freedom of a queer-friendly city, working (as immigrants often do) as a waiter, then establishing himself as an artist and producer, and moving to Brighton. We are invited to learn how to pronounce his name. This moves into some gentle one-on-one questioning: Where do you live? Where are you from? What does ‘home’ mean to you? Are you a good host? He shifts into a less prosaic, more poetic performance mode, sitting at the table with a book, reflecting on family heritage, Portugal’s seafaring history, colonialism, and the burden of being a descendant of people who were complicit in the slavery of other human beings.

Back to the direct address to individual audience members: the man sitting next to me is called João, and he comes from Porto – like Xavi, he left Portugal around thirteen years ago. Further back in the auditorium is a British-born man of Indian heritage called Ash. A woman called Silvia moved to the UK from Italy, and she has now – just in the past few weeks – acquired a British passport. Marty is from Essex, with a complicated working class family background.

These four end up around the onstage table – and prove to be a gift to any artist co-creating a show with their audience. Xavi serves them food, and discretely passes them brown envelopes containing questions to keep the dinner party conversation buzzing, whilst also keeping us included in the action by ferrying out bowls of soup, forkfuls of chorizo, and refills of cachaça.

The dinner guests at the table hardly need the envelopes: the conversation flows along with the vinho verde. But the prompts keep the talk focused around the themes of the show: migration, integration, and what it means to be British; living in the limbo of non-conformity as ‘other’; and what it is that makes us a nation. 

Ash talks about the pressures of being part of a higher-caste Hindu family, delights us with saucy stories about gay clubs in the 1980s (‘I’m younger than I look’), and tells us that Freddie Mercury’s mum – Jer Bulsara – is a family friend, although it took him years to realise that her son Farrokh was the lead singer of Queen, as most in his community are rather dismissive of the Bulsara boy’s choice to become a rock singer. João is the epitome of reasonableness – diffusing a choleric argument about the pressures of ‘fitting in’ to the host country, and working hard to understand and articulate the conflicting needs of different groups in society. Silvia doesn’t often push herself forward – I wonder if the men at the table notice that she hasn’t spoken for a while? – and when she does join in, she often plays the role of the ‘good immigrant’ who has done all she can to dutifully fit in to British society. Marty is the only one at the table who is neither an immigrant nor the child of immigrants – but he realises that his experiences of ostracisation, of the ‘otherness’ of being a gay man brought up in a working class outer-London community, was analogous to the others’ experiences in ‘failing to adhere to border and identity-defining norms’.

And all the while, the wine flows, the soup cauldron empties, and our generous host looks out for all our needs whilst merging more and more into the background (often leaving the stage completely, or sitting quietly at the back).

Post is a beautifully structured and lovingly enacted performance piece – the combination of shared food and drink, reflection on cultural heritage, and the respectful agency given to the carefully chosen co-creators, is a winning recipe. Autobiography and identity are the base ingredients, but teased out to become something far more universal and far-reaching than one person’s story – it’s about all of us. Seeing the show as part of BAC’s Homegrown:Occupy season, it seems to perfectly epitomise the building’s motto: Non Mihi, Non Tibi, Sed Nobis. Not for me, not for you, but for us. 

A veritable feast of a show that leaves you with a warm glow (and not just from all the cachaça).

 

Featured image (top): Xavier de Sousa: Post. Photo by David Pickens Photography.

Homegrown Festival is BAC’s annual building takeover, amplifying young and underrepresented voices. Homegrown: Occupy runs 18 March–12 April 2019 and is curated by Saad-Edine Said.

Other work in the programme includes: Inua Ellams’ The R.A.P. Party, Elise Heaven’s She’s a Good Boy, Dylema’s Four Women, Exit Productions’ The Mission: Occupy Mars, The Sui Ensemble’s La Silhouette, and fanSHEN’s Looking for Love. Full details: bac.org.uk