Steal like an artist

So says Austin Kleon’s little black book of advice for creatives. I picked up the New York Times bestseller Steal Like an Artist at the National Gallery bookshop in London a few months back. Fresh out of drama school and wondering what on earth to do next and how to do it, I saw it as a discreetly-packaged self help book for a creative starting out on their career.

‘Steal Like an Artist’ and the follow-up, ‘Show Your Work’

Sitting in the gallery’s espresso bar with a cappuccino and a big slab of carrot cake, I dived in. One of the first comments that resonated with me was that we get to know ourselves through making our work, whether it be writing, acting, singing, dancing, painting, photography, whatever. I think, like many creative people, I’ve had a tendency to feel I can only start making things once I know who I truly am. The notion of discovering myself through my work had never occurred to me before, but once you think like that, it’s surprisingly freeing, and takes the pressure off the outcome of your creative endeavours. This reminds me of one of our mottos from East 15: ‘Curiosity, not ambition’. Now I see it can apply to your whole creative life, not just each individual project.

Along with ‘marry well’, ‘keep a praise file’ and ‘choose what to leave out’, the book includes one of the most striking and relevant phrases I have read about pursuing a creative career: ‘Enjoy your obscurity while it lasts. Use it.’

One piece of advice Austin gives is to ‘write a blog post about someone’s work that you admire and link to their site’, so here I am doing just that. I think it’s a fantastic little book. You may think some of the tips in there are obvious, but if they’re that obvious, why aren’t we doing them? Sometimes we just need someone to write these things down and put them in a book, and thankfully Austin has done just that.

The Keepers – ravens in the Tower

It’s not every day you see your friend flapping about like a raven. But then, when your friend is an actor and recent graduate of East 15 Acting School, it’s all in a day’s work.

Adam Brown, who goes by the stage name Adam Bellamy, co-wrote and performed in The Keepers, a short theatre piece by Tangled Spider Theatre about the ravens at the Tower of London. Last night a group of us headed up to London to see our friend perform at the Etcetera Theatre, above the Oxford Arms in Camden.

The piece also features East 15 graduates Hayley Adams, Komal Amin, Mairin O’Hagan and Sarah Anson, and originated from a devised performance project they worked on while on the MA Acting course. It also includes a graduate from ArtsEd acting school.

When your friend tells you they’re going to be playing a raven in their next show, you of course smile, nod and make encouraging sounds. These actors, eh. But as we settled into our seats, all preconceptions vanished. There stood Adam and his fellow actors, all wearing black and sporting heavy eye makeup, jerking their heads and strutting about the stage so much in the manner of a bird it was uncanny.

Later on in the pub, Adam told me about the extensive research they had all done into the anatomy of a raven, studying its skeletal structure in order to understand how and why they move the way they do. I was even more fascinated to discover the ravens in the play are all real ravens that have lived in the Tower. All of a sudden a highly entertaining piece of theatre in its own right took on a greater significance.

Sadly Erin is the only one of the ravens in the play that still lives in the Tower, but you can read about the other ravens’ stories on the Tower of London website. Many of the individual personalities and characteristics of the ravens we saw in the play are based on the real ravens, including a penchant for playing dead, a love of biscuits, and one raven going walkabout.

Despite an aching back here and there from holding the unnatural posture (for us) of the raven, the actors came into the pub exhausted but exhilarated afterwards for a well-deserved pint. This was a truly original and enjoyable performance quite unlike anything I’d seen before, and if you can get to Camden tonight or tomorrow for the last two performances I’d highly recommend it.

Images and artwork courtesy of Tangled Spider Theatre.

Le Corsaire – ballet at the Mayflower

My review of English National Ballet’s performance of Le Corsaire this week at the Mayflower Theatre in Southampton. A true delight. I’m not too happy with the headline though. As the reviewer, we don’t write the headline, and though the subs normally do a fantastic job of picking out a phrase from the piece to use as a headline, they haven’t got this one quite right.

Although I do describe the second act as ‘athletic’ and mention the ‘magical mix of athlete and artist that is the beauty of the ballet dancer’, calling the show a ‘mix of athletics and dancing’ is too simplistic. There were no standalone athletics in the ballet. There were athletic elements to the dancing, but I feel that to separate the two in the headline like this misrepresents the piece.

Still, a wonderful evening and my thanks to The Portsmouth News as always for giving me the opportunity to review such brilliant performances!

 

 

SOOP of the instant variety

Saturday night is always a difficult one. I’m at that age where a night gracing the dance floor in Liquid accompanied by several Tequila slammers is all just a bit too energetic, but equally I’ve not yet reached sitting in front of the TV with my slippers on and a nice cup of tea. So when my friend Bex suggested a spot of improvised comedy I was both intrigued and glad to do something a little different on a Saturday night.

We headed to The Cellars at Eastney for ‘Instant Soop!’, a live improvised comedy show by SOOP, the resident theatre company at the Spring Arts and Heritage Centre, Havant. The company’s website declared that each show is slightly different as it’s based on suggestions from the audience, creating a kind of personalised theatre. We grabbed a drink and bagged ourselves a good spot where we would be close enough to be part of the action.

Now, I’d rather not give too much away, as I really think these shows are best when you don’t know what to expect. To be fair, though, they really are shaped by what the audience says, so you can never know exactly what’s coming! The very funny Vincent Adams, co-founder of SOOP and a fellow SSA member, was the host for the evening, acting as a conduit for the suggestions from the audience and keeping a loose hold of the reins.

On stage the four actors took part in a variety of exercises involving lightening-quick thinking and a willingness to go with the flow, wherever it may take them. This kind of theatre only works if you have the audience on board, willing to come along on the journey with the actors and really throw itself into it too. The modest-sized but enthusiastic audience at The Cellars was with the actors every step of the way, and as the evening progressed the laughter became louder and freer.

An Instant Soop! promo shot – the cast at The Cellars featured Rachel Carter and Nathan Chapman, both on the left

Antics on stage ranged from conversations using words from the reading material supplied by the audience to group therapy expressed through the medium of song, with music supplied by talented musician Matt Blackwell. For the therapy scene each audience member was given a piece of paper on which to write a suggestion for a problem, and the host chose two to be used. I was thrilled when my ‘I can’t stop licking plants’ suggestion became the subject of a song, and delighted at the skill of the actors as they thought up rhyming lyrics on the spot. Rachel Carter, musical director for the company, is a wonderfully talented singer, and her beautiful voice carried a surreal air of serenity amidst the madness.

My favourite scenario of the whole evening was probably when the group acted out various scenes from one particular audience member’s life. A bearded Ed Owen-Jones playing a teenage girl was hilarious if not strangely convincing (a testament to acting skill and the audience’s suspension of disbelief, as said actor looks just like Alfie Boe). The younger sister being told she would have to wait for puberty until she grew a beard like her big sister made me snort into my merlot.

To be honest the evening was over all too quickly, and I could happily have sat there for another hour or two watching further hilarity ensue. Actor Daniel Scott and the company’s creative director and co-founder Nathan Chapman joined Blackwell, Carter and Owen-Jones to make up the evening’s five performers. Along with Adams and his intelligent wit, they made a perfect troupe, and I look forward to seeing them in action again.

Catch Instant Soop! next at the Spring, Havant on Wednesday 16 October, or check out SOOP’s website for more information about the company, including other upcoming shows. Hilarity guaranteed!

Truly talented ladies

It’s always a joy to discover new talent, even if that talent was actually discovered by everyone else a long time ago. With the ladies of Bench Theatre‘s recent production of Ladies’ Day, I felt just that.

Robin Hall, Beth Evans, Jessi Wilson and Sarah Parnell gave fantastic performances as the four fish-packers from Hull. I could easily have been watching professional actresses.

My review of Ladies’ Day in local newspaper The News

Sarah Parnell particularly stood out as an actress who could captivate an audience and take them along for the ride, as she lead you deep into the story and her character’s life. Having praised the actress to a friend after the show who is very familiar with the local am dram scene, I learnt she also did voiceover work, possibly professionally. It was evident that my ‘discovery’ of this talented lady in our midst was lagging behind the rest of the local theatre world, and perhaps further afield.

If you missed Ladies’ Day, you can catch Sarah next in One Off Productions‘ performance of Noel Coward’s Present Laughter, coming to the Kings Theatre, Portsmouth this September. I’ll be there on the front row!

Beware the seagulls

Last week I reviewed a performance of Henry V by local amateur dramatic theatre company Collingwood RSC, part of the Royal Navy Theatre Association (RNTA). The company performed the play in Portsmouth’s Historic Dockyard, in the open air alongside Nelson’s flagship HMS Victory. Such a setting presented some wonderful dramatic possibilities but also came with a few challenges. The actors carried on regardless, a skill that every actor must at some stage come to master.

My review in local newspaper The News

The major issue open-air performances have to deal with, especially in this country, is the weather. However, with the amazing heatwave we’d been experiencing, rain was the last worry on anyone’s mind. The seagulls were a different story.

In the very first scene one particularly brazen bird decided he wanted his moment in the limelight and swooped down on stage. Taking a fancy to the prop sandwiches (at least they looked like sandwiches from where I was sitting), he proceeded to wolf one down, much to the amusement of the audience. I could hear the titter of faint laughter and the stifled giggles as he went in for seconds. I’m sure the audience were all too aware of how off-putting a good snort of laughter would be, especially as at this point the actors on stage possibly hadn’t seen the antics of our feathered friend going on behind them.

We did our best to keep the laughter in, even when a rival seagull turned up, having spotted the feast taking place and wanting in. Observing him struggling to stay on top of the tent roof in the background as his feet slippy-slided all over the place was particularly giggle-inducing, as was the moment when we realised the seagulls between them had managed to eat the entire collection of prop food on stage. The actors, by now acutely aware of the presence of the feathery food thieves, did an admirable job, and managed to draw us into the action of the play and away from the bird antics.

The actor announcing the death of Falstaff competed with a soundtrack of seagull cries and helicopter blades, but again not even a twitch or the tiniest slip of character from those on stage. It served as a good reminder of the challenges one can face when putting on a show somewhere other than the traditional theatre setting. It also reminded me of the merits, and with the magnificent HMS Victory overlooking the actors as they brought this rousing play to life, it made for a wonderful evening.

Read more about the seagull antics from one of the actors on the RSC Open Stages at The Dell blog.

The art of reviewing

Last week I had the pleasure of seeing a spot of theatre for free and getting to write about it for the local paper. Still a relative newbie when it comes to reviewing, and acutely aware of the importance of those words from an actor’s point of view, I felt as nervous as if I were the one onstage that evening!

The show in question, 84 Charing Cross Road performed by local company HumDrum Theatre, was brilliant, thus I was able to write a glowing review. However, the process got me thinking about the job of the reviewer, what to look out for when watching the performance, and whether there is indeed an art to good reviewing.

Review of 84 Charing Cross Road in local newspaper The News

I read the local newspaper The News every morning as part of my job in a university press office. The paper often includes several theatre reviews of local shows, professional and amateur, so I have started poring over these in the belief that with each review I read I will absorb the structure, tone and rhythm as if by osmosis.

The work of the reviewer seems to be entirely different to that of both the news reporter and the feature writer. A skill all of its own, the writing of the reviewer has to be truthful, give the writer’s opinion but be balanced and fair, and come from a trusted source.

The title of this post is perhaps a little misleading. Is reviewing really an art, or is it a craft? The best way to get better at reviewing is to work at it. Improve your review writing style by reading and writing as many different theatre reviews as possible.

When I find a reviewer who’s work I particularly admire, I look at how their pieces are constructed, what elements they keep and what they have left out (reviews for The News have a word limit of 200 words). Crucially, I also notice how they manage to remain balanced and fair, regardless of the quality of the show they are reviewing.

Whether it is an art or in fact a craft, the writing of reviews is an influential element in the theatre-making process. As an actor, these words can hold great satisfaction or great disappointment. As a writer, I hope I can do my fellow actors justice, and perform the task entrusted to me with the integrity it calls for.

Shakespeare in the sunshine – The Taming of the Shrew

What wonderful weather we’ve been having! Perfect for a spot of Shakespeare in the sunshine. It’s that time of year again when the Globe Theatre on tour visits Portsmouth to put on a show in the City Museum Gardens, in association with our very own New Theatre Royal. As usual, they didn’t disappoint…

Enjoying Shakespeare in the sun

An all-female cast seemed an interesting and ironic choice for a play whose patriarchal tones often challenge a modern audience. I have always struggled with this play. Brilliantly written and highly entertaining, it is nonetheless the story of a woman’s submission to her husband. I’ve never known quite how to take Katherina’s speech where she submits to Petruchio. Is she playing a game, or is it truly how she feels?

Using an all-female cast gave the performance an extra edge – seeing Petruchio beating down Katherina’s resolve when played by a man, it is easy to feel angry at him, and associate this anger with the fact that he is a man, the historical oppressor of women. But when Petruchio is played by a woman, this raises the notion that the abuse Katherina suffers could be inflicted as easily by a woman as by a man. It had an almost cannibalistic feel, the woman turning on her own kind.

However, one wonderful element to this production was the fact that you completely forgot these were women playing men. A brilliant and beautiful Leah Whitaker strode around with an air of arrogance as Petruchio, and it wasn’t long before you simply forgot she wasn’t a man, striking looks aside. Right from her first strut onto the stage, all long leather coat and clompy boots, she fostered an essence of testosterone and masculinity that I’m sure one would be hard pressed to find if they met her out of character.

Strong performances all round

A particularly memorable Kathryn Hunt gave a strong performance as Baptista Minola, perfectly capturing the intricate mix of self-assuredness and growing confusion and exasperation he feels towards his situation as father of such an unruly daughter. She was equally brilliant, and charmingly hilarious, as Grumio, and at all times seemed to have a wonderful command of Shakespeare’s language. Not one utterance seemed strained or unnatural.

Joy Richardson also played a male part convincingly and with admirable gusto. Her Gremio seemed to at times creep and others skip across the stage – an excellent use of the body to convey character and emotion.

The infamous speech where Katherina submits to Petruchio’s rule over her had the audience silent and transfixed. Not an eye wandered from the outstanding Kate Lamb, as silent tears rolled down her Katherina’s face. You felt drawn into her performance, into her resignation, and I felt tears on my own cheeks responding to hers.

Last summer I had the pleasure of seeing The Taming of the Shrew at the Globe Theatre, and the Katherina there, played by Samantha Spiro, was much more feisty, rather than simply angry. This was something I missed in Lamb’s performance, but as the play went on I realised this was a more sensitive performance. Both Katherinas were equally valid interpretations, and both brought something to the part that made it enjoyable for the audience to watch.

A perfect Saturday afternoon

There wasn’t a weak link in this performance – staging was excellent, costume was fitting and diverse, helping to build on each character’s traits in subtle, or in Petruchio’s case, not so subtle, ways. As is the company’s custom, most of the actors played several parts, and a range of dialects were excellently employed to easily define one character from another.

Live music and songs with the odd bit of dancing added an element of fun to the whole thing, and put a smile on the sea of faces sitting in the sun watching.

Diction was clear and the storytelling coherent to the point that my boyfriend, who has sat through many a Shakespeare performance for my benefit, said he understood the whole thing perfectly, and it was in fact the most enjoyable Shakespeare performance he’s ever been to. Kudos to director Joe Murphy for pulling together such an amazing performance from a wonderfully talented cast.

The weather was perfect, the company excellent and the performance a delight. If only every Saturday afternoon could be spent this way!

6,000 miles away part 3: Bye

Photo: Bill Cooper

The piece we had admittedly all been waiting for, Guillem’s solo Bye, arrived at last. Choreographed by Mats Ek and set to Beethoven’s last piano sonata, the piece was a delight to watch.

Mats Ek is not only a choreographer, but has also staged productions of various plays in his native Sweden. A former stage director and ballet dancer, he has become a guest choreographer for many of the leading companies in the world. His style is known for conveying the feelings and emotions behind a storyline rather than just the narrative itself.

This style is beautifully apparent in Bye. The choreography bounced from flowing arms and legs to clunky child-like movements, channeling joy mixed with discovery. Guillem’s exuberance and energy filled the stage as she leapt and bounded about, belying her 48 years. This looked like a woman rediscovering freedom, breaking free from the confines of her daily life and revisiting that childlike joy of dancing just for the sheer pleasure of it.

As first the cardigan and then the shoes and socks were removed, I sensed the carefree abandonment of youth, like when you strip off your socks and skip across the slippery stones to paddle in the icy cold river, knowing you’re late for dinner and will surely get a telling off, but just wanting to feel the water run between your toes.

The staging of the piece included a screen the size of a doorway, on which we were first met with Guillem’s eye looking around at us all before the face pulled back. The projected video footage showed Guillem trying to figure her way out to us, a human leg unfolding from around the side as the film Guillem stuck a leg out beyond the parameters of the screen. This use of film in harmony with the physical, tangible dancer delighted the audience.

The ending of the solo saw Guillem put back on the cardigan, socks and shoes and return to the world of the screen, where a curious crowd had by now gathered to watch her dancing antics. As she returned from whence she came, the people seemed accepting and the crowd dispersed as they presumably went back to their daily business. It conjured in my mind images of village life, where everyone knows your business and leaping through the fields would most definitely draw a crowd. Once returned to the flock and what is considered as ‘normal’ behaviour, the interest wanes and you return to routine… until the next time you venture out without your shoes and socks on!

6,000 miles away part 2: Rearray

The second piece of the evening, Rearray, was choreographed by the internationally renowned choreographer William Forsythe. A former dancer with the Joffrey Ballet, Forsythe was director of Ballet Frankfurt for 20 years before founding The Forsythe Company. He is an Honorary Fellow at the Laban Centre for Movement and Dance, holds an Honorary Doctorate from Juilliard, and has pioneered new approaches to dance documentation, education and research.

Photo: Bill Cooper

Despite the brilliant Sylvie Guillem dancing in this piece, I have to say it was my least favourite of the three. The music, by David Morrow, was discordant and jarring and made me feel strangely uncomfortable. There was one particular note whose high pitch physically hurt my ears, and brewed within me a sense of violence that put me on edge and filled my muscles with the urge to lash out. That said, a friend sitting next to me enjoyed the piece, and said he could detect a pattern within the music so the discord no longer seemed apparent.

I can see how the music set the mood for the choreography, which was brilliant. Massimo Murro partnered Guillem with strength and grace, the two dancers complementing each other in their physicality and lean, flowing arms and legs. I got a feeling of a disjointed relationship, of two people not quite on the same page – perhaps wanting to be, and at times achieving this with beautiful moments of harmonious choreography, two bodies reaching an elegant symmetry, but then falling away to their individual rhythms.

The choreography was firmly rooted in a classical training, but at parts it would veer off to something more abstract than I was accustomed to, which really opened by eyes to the artistic possibilities of contemporary dance. A stalwart of classical ballet, it could be said my preferences are a bit tame!