Privileged to see individuals confront their demons and share their journey toward positive change in my psychotherapy practice. Intrigued by people and inspired by how the Arts can positively impact the human spirit somewhere each and every day. Passionate about theatre and the arts. Lover of the mosh pit at gigs.
LeedsPlayhouse and Belgrade Theatre Company co-production with Rose Theatre
Written in 1957 and a GCSE English staple for generations this production could be, at best a useful adaptation for students and schools to schedule into the curriculum. In the hands of a skilled and creative director like Amy Leach it thankfully translates as a provocative and cautionary tale for the 21st century. The casting by Lucy Casson is really excellent, replacing a traditional group of schoolboys with a genuinely diverse cast that all work together to create a terrifyingly believable bunch of kids stranded alone on an island. As with any really excellent horror you may know what’s coming next but it’s dramatic impact repeatedly hits with a fresh sucker punch!
Max Johns’ set evokes elements of a lush tropical island; yet there is a darkness to the towering palm trees and the pale cliffs evoke an inner city skate park that might just be threatened by rival gangs. Leach jettisons her characters unto stage with a mighty jolt and a deluge of crash debris falls from the sky. Friendships are formed and reformed in seconds as some of this bunch of traumatised kids seek to find order and security while others revel in the new found freedoms of a world without family or schools. This cautionary tale of power struggles between good and evil, order and anarchy, and morality and immorality is as relevant now as nearly 70 years ago. It is no less shocking and perhaps more genuinely frightening in our modern world where knives and bullets are easily come by and our seeming capacity to see threat in “other” is alarmingly prevalent.
This disparate bunch of children from different schools pick a leader in Ralph who Sade Malone plays beautifully as a good all rounder who has a natural exuberance and an innate sense of fairness. Her role as leader is threatened by the gangly, arrogant Jack who Patrick Dineen embodies with all the elitist, self- aggrandisement of an Oxford Bullingdon boy. Neuro diverse actor Adam Fenton shines as the ticcing, epileptic Simon and Jason Connor gives a skilled performance as the wise Piggy who is likable yet annoying. Deaf actors Ciaran O’Breen and Eloise Pennycott bring a lot to this production with their comedic timing and expressive physicality. Jason Battersby gives a stand out performance as Roger who revels in the pain and misery of others. This is a chilling watch as Battersby gives his Roger a nihilistic stance as the quiet onlooker who quickly becomes a sadistic sociopath swaggering across the stage and dispassionately murdering Piggy.
Theatre programming that brings curriculum pieces to life on stage is crucial to widening learning opportunities and breaking down preconceptions and threshold anxiety for the next generation of theatre lovers. It is also sensible bread and butter programming for increasingly cash strapped theatres. Thankfully this Lord Of The Flies production achieves all the above but with the addition of being a genuinely elevated piece of theatre. Amy Leach and a talented team of cast and creatives have produced something really fresh and relevant that inspires and provokes.
Adapted by Brigid Larmour from an idea by Tracy-Ann Oberman
Directed by Brigid Larmour
A Co-production by Watford Palace Theatre and HOME Manchester
This new adaptation of Shakespeare’s “problem play” sees actress and writer, Tracy-Ann Oberman and director Brigid Larmour rework The Merchant of Venice for a female Shylock who is a widow and a mother. This female money lender is based on Annie, the great-grandmother of Oberman and all those strong women who emigrated to Britain after the 1905 progroms in Russia. Tracy-Ann Oberman embraces the discomfort of this role as the beleaguered moneylender demanding her pound of flesh, giving a strong impassioned performance in this still widely debated play that questions Shakespeare and his views on Judaism.
The sound of shattering glass offstage indicates that the brewing antisemitism of Thirties Europe is alive and flourishing in the East End of London.This production is set in 1936 to the backdrop of the rise of Oswald Mosley and his British Union of Fascists party and the resulting riots during The Battle of Cable Street on 4th October 1936 when working class people came together in support of the Jewish community. The deeply divisive aspects of this play are further highlighted by the fact that it was also adopted by the Nazi regime in Germany where the characterisation of Shylock was used to validate antisemitism. After KristallnachtTheMerchantofVenice was performed all across Germany.
Here Larmour and Oberman do not shy away from the complexity of their Shylock but balance it neatly against a background of privilege and arrogance as the Venetian noblemen became rather less noble as entitled Bullingdon Boys in the vein of Boris Johnson, David Cameron and George Osborne caricatures. Their Portia is a cool willowy blonde society heiress equally at home in riding jodhpurs or a bias cut ivory satin evening dress. Clearly modelled on the infamous Diana Mitford, wife of Oswald Mosley who married him at the home of Joseph Goebbels, this is a woman giddy and lethal in her own sense of power.
The set design and costumes by Liz Cooke work together wonderfully well to capture the gritty side of East End London and the sleek sophistication of society life. Everything about this production suggests a real love for the project and great attention to detail. The music of the period blends Yiddish music and classics such as the apt Stormy Weather. The screen images tell a story of the rise of Fascism and quiet poignant moments on stage such as a disparaging glance between Portia and Jessica say more than words ever could about a society where old money and breeding will always sneer at new money.
This is a strong cast with well balanced performances but ultimately it is the women who shine most brightly. As Portia, a pitch perfect Hannah Moorish hands out money and a ring to Brassanio, her new husband and Shylock finances the Merchant Antonio with her bond; it’s notable that these very different women are also moneylenders exacting and expecting their own pound of flesh. Tracy-Ann Oberman relishes a role that celebrates women she clearly feels incredibly proud off. Her call to arms in the closing sequence is a plea that wearebetter together…perhaps the placing of some of the audience on stage is also a powerful unifier. In difficult times we all have to make choices where we stand…if we do not then those choices can be ripped away. The most powerful moment in the production is not Oberman onstage but sitting on the rough wooden step. Momentarily beaten by the bullying elite, she is clutching a tiny brown suitcase just like all those still stacked together as a memorial to all those sent to camps such as Auschwitz.
Too Much World At Once is an impressive theatre debut for Billie Collins. This coming of age story has big aspirations; looking at themes around queerness, mental health issues and environmental disaster. There is a real lyricism in the writing and a strong feel for naturalistic dialogue. It’s no mean feat to write a fifteen year old boy who turns into a bird and readies himself to fly thousands of miles to his neurotic sister who is doing her bit for climate change by gathering data on albatrosses on a remote island in Antarctica. Meanwhile closer to home his Mum is struggling to connect and parent in a fractured family, while teaching and trying quite literally to hold the family home together. New boy Ellis is a breath of fresh air to both mother and son, bringing colour to their lives in ways that go beyond his nail polish and rainbow take on school uniform. It’s a lot to cram into two hours on a small stage but director Adam Quayle does a excellent job of bringing the writers’ vision to life. Quayle who is theJointArtistic Director of BoxofTricks has made this ambitious debut look and feel authentic.
The staging by designer Katie Scott is really beautiful in its simplicity. The central dias is shaped like the Earth with a backdrop of decaying wood…orange boxes, simple wooden furniture, bare window frames and driftwood that look like they may have been washed ashore. Overhead hangs a chandelier of driftwood that is reminiscent of the sword of Damacles. This staging is compact but highly effective in driving the narrative of the play. It’s further enhanced by sensitive and imaginative lighting by Richard Owen. At times the soft spread of light looks like the oceans of Earth or the rich splatter shades of guano. The lighting effects are at times simply gorgeous as in the closing moments where the the cast are lit like a rich tableau that is truly memorable.
The four actors are all well cast and give good performances. Paddy Stafford as central character Noble embodies the withdrawn boy who has closed off from his mother and desperately misses his sister. He gives a highly effective performance as he transitions into a bird and the occasional delicate movements of his head evoke a curious, perhaps wary bird. Evie Hargreaves plays his sister Cleo, a research scientist on Bird Island who is pulsating with nervy energy, passionate about conservation but overwhelmed by the harsh reality of the task and her surroundings in Antarctica. Alexandra Mathie is Fiona, their mother and the local science teacher. She is utterly believable as a brusque Northerner who seems more sentimental over her crumbling family home than sensitive to the emotional needs of her children. The force of nature in the play is Ewan Grant as Ellis, a newcomer to the school and excluded by his peers due to his sexuality. Grant exudes the enthusiasm and openness of a Labrador puppy bringing an upbeat and humorous energy to the production. He is the perfect foil to this family who have lost their way and each other.
Collins writes with the confidence of a natural poet. There is an innate lyricism and a sense of magical storytelling in this piece. It will be exciting to see her work develop as a playwright. The central flaw within Too Much World At Once is precisely that…there is a lot of world and not enough about who the characters are within this world on stage. This is an exciting premise for a play but the characters feel underdeveloped at times. The mother has some back story and context yet it is frustrating to watch this woman who sits painting the nails of a boy her son barely knows instead of battering down the doors of the local police when her 15 year old child has been missing for days. A lot of the action in this narrative is driven by what has happened within the fractured dynamics of this family unit yet these are barely touched upon. What has happened in the marriage? A deeply depressed and highly anxious daughter…is she living out her mothers’ unfulfilled ambitions? Most frustrating is the central character Noble as he never feels fully fleshed out…but perhaps he is just a fledgling in a damaged nest.
Director Adam Quayle has done a lot to make a potentially tricky play come to life on a small stage. At times the production can seem unwieldy or too busy as the chorus moves around swooping like birds or moving chairs like they are being swept away in a storm. This would all probably lend itself more effectively to a larger stage. The sound design by Lee Affen adds additional charm as he works magic to bring the world of nature and the elements to life onstage. This is a big play on a small stage but perhaps aptly so…
And this is all I know…that it’s a good world to be small in. And there is so much here to love.
Song From Far Away is an evocative study of grief, emotional repression and isolation that is at turns both delicate and brutal. This monologue with song perfectly blends the talents of playwright Simon Stephens and songwriter Mark Eitzel. It feels like a musical for those of us who want to see something that feels more ethereal like the vibe of Cocteau Twins rather than a big West End number. Will Young is a singer, actor and writer who excels as the emotionally repressed and weary cynic that is Willem. Like his character Willem, Young has also lost his only brother but if the performer is channeling his own grief, anger or frustration it is subtle and never remotely self indulgent.
Grief is like a fault line that opens up inside of us and irrevocably changes our emotional landscape. When we speak of grief as a journey or a process, perhaps what we are really describing is how we accommodate this new version of ourselves that still fits our outward clothing but internally feels alien and strange. We see the world in double vision…part familiar terrain and part unchartered waters. Song From Far Away takes Willem from his adopted New York, once New Amsterdam, back to his childhood home of Amsterdam for the funeral of his 20 year brother Pauli. The monologue is in form of letters written to Pauli as Willem reluctantly navigates a return to his childhood home.
Will Young gives a controlled and emotionally nuanced performance as a hedge fund manager rich in wealth but pauper poor in empathy. Willem is emotionally guarded and aloof and his initial response to hearing his brother has died is one of irritation. Young channels Willems’ disdain for others into micro gestures, facial expressions and clipped tones that convey the character as emotionally stunted and terribly damaged by his family dynamics. This is story telling with caustic wit and casual cruelty yet punctuated by moments that catch Willem by surprise. In those, Young can dazzle with the small agonies of walking into his brothers’ bedroom and finding a sock drawer left open and a half read Kafka novel never to be unfinished or a sudden rush of joy as his little niece Anka singles him out to play with.
The staging by Ingrid Hu is sleek and minimalist, as beige as an airport lounge, a Manhattan loft apartment or a perfectly tended dutch townhouse. Marbled walls and sweeping curtains frame vast windows that act is a backdrop to the magic of quietly falling snow or the hazy sparkle of fireworks dancing in a night sky. The ceiling occasionally lowers or rises, and walls and curtains ebb and flow echoing the emotional tides of grieving. The contracting and expanding like a heart that carries on despite another having stopped forever. Jane Lalljee uses light to move the scenes letter by letter as Young recounts the week after his brothers’ death. The hazy, dreamy lighting is punctuated by occasional plumes of amorphous smoke that create almost a sense of another being circling Willem as he reads to Pauli.
A song fragment heard in a bar lodges in his memory and encapsulates his sense of loss and fragmentation. Young hums and later sings as the song takes form and something seems to open up in Willem. Young sings exquisitely and wistfully. This feels like a prayer to loss and the possibilities of love and connection. Young manages to rein in his performance so we never lose the sense of Willem on stage rather than Young, the singer. Stephens and Eitzel beautifully convey a sense of rootless dislocation and the complexities of family, relationships and grief. Director Kirk Jameson has been sensitive and controlled in his directing. The production retains a strong flavour of European theatre and the style of Ivo Van Hove who originally commissioned the play in 2014. Jameson has retained the contradictions and sense of alienation in the production but allowed the writing to feel equally at home at HOME…rather fitting as a homecoming for Simon Stephens who is Stockport born and bred.
The first in a trilogy, David Eldridge wrote BEGINNING in 2015 and had a hugely successful run when it made its debut at the National Theatre in 2017. The play runs in real time over the course of an evening after a house warming party ends. Laura has a smart new flat in West Didsbury and the last guest left is Danny who is a newcomer to her social circle. Eldridge takes this boy meets girl drama and manages to subvert what one might expect by exploring the immediacy and intimacy of two vulnerable people navigating possibilities. The sheer simplicity of Laura articulating what she wants without any artifice creates a beautifully multi-layered drama as the play explores the complexity of what happens when two people caught in a moment reveal their back stories and how they impact on their choices.
The set design by Ty Hay is an estate agents’ dream with a sleek kitchen island complete with Smeg oven, dishwasher and wine chiller while the lounge furniture looks like an ad for LOAF. Surfaces are littered with the debris from the recent party and the designer rug has a fresh cigarette burn. Either side of the set loom street lamps and the stage gleams with smooth fresh tarmac. The overall effect is as subtle as the storytelling, allowing for lots of movement by the two actors as they at times literally dance around each other. The tarmac effect sleekly eludes to fresh starts and gleaming possibilities while the glowing street lamps suggest a voyeuristic feel to this production. Watching the actors for nearly two hours as they learn about each other feels very much as if we the audience are peering in on our neighbours in a gripping Will they/Won’t they scenario.
Laura is a 38 year old company MD with a new flat in West Didsbury while 42 year old divorced Danny is back living at his Mums’ house. Erin Shanagher and Gerard Kearns are perfectly cast as these wounded characters who are navigating points in their lives that they had not foreseen. Shanagher is wonderful as she makes quicksilver shifts from feisty to goofy to weary and anguished. Her Laura is endearing and brave in her vulnerability as she navigates the evening and propositions the uncertain and wary Danny with the possibility of sex, breakfast and a baby. Kearns gives a perfectly pitched performance in his laddish ordinariness and stained shirt and his Danny is a revelation as he opens up about himself. This is a man mourning being a dad who gets to be nothing more in his daughters’ life than a monthly direct debit and seems to have lost hope for his future. There is a single moment where Laura is dancing her heart out to a Bros track and Danny is watching and clearly amused…what tracks across Kearns’ facial expression is a dawning realisation that he could really fall in love with this woman…theatre at its best!
Beautifully crafted writing by Eldridge and mature and caring direction by Bryony Shanahan coupled with strong performances by Shanahan and Kearns make for a winning production. It’s a brave move to hope an audience can be absorbed in watching 2 people cook and eat fish finger Butties in real time, debate Strictly and the merits of a Ginsters and dance around a kitchen. Beginning draws the audience into routing for this burgeoning relationship despite there being more missteps than slick moves in this courtship dance. Utterly absorbing in its sharply observed take on loneliness and longing, this play is funny, poignant and exciting as the couple navigate the stepping stones and roadblocks peppering their first night together.
Written and Performed by Lois Weaver and Peggy Shaw
Directed by Lois Weaver
Split Britches is a multi award winning feminist, lesbian theatre company formed in New York in 1980. Originally created with Deb Margolin, the company is now Peggy Shaw and Lois Weaver who are also on/off life partners. Their combined ages come in at a mighty 153 years of life experience, theatrical technique, dry humour and wonderful storytelling. Shaw and Weaver blend gender politics and pop culture references with autobiographical content to explore an ever changing world.
This show was being devised when Covid-19 hit the world and they found themselves waiting out lockdown residing in a borrowed house which had been stripped ready for redevelopment. LAST GASP was intended as a last show for Shaw but literally became a last gasp for the house they inhabited, our democracy, and in a global pandemic for the world we all knew and had taken for granted. They devised the show using Zoom and other techniques to develop LAST GASP WFH which screened as a Zoomie in 2020. The current reimagining has Weaver alone on stage while Shaw appears on various screen formats unto near the end where she strolls onstage with script in hand and a torch. It seems a fitting reflection on theatre experience in recent years…filmed productions on computer screens, one person shows on empty stages and then a return to the familiar.
LAST GASP blends storytelling and trips down memory lane for both performers giving a satisfying sense of where they started and the journeys they have gone on. Weaver still carries the hopes, curiosities and frustrations of the little girl on the porch “cooking” beans and playing House. Peggy Shaw carries her confident sense of being right/righteous from her Protestant Bostonian heritage but it’s woven with dry acerbic humour as she reflects on her queer journey through the Seventies to today when conversations on gender politics leave her pondering…how did this old school queer end up on the wrong side of the table? This production is all about grief for the losses change brings and the redemptive possibilities when we pause and recalibrate.
Weaver uses the whole of a vast stage with few props to dance and whimsically play hide and seek with Shaw and the audience. Shaw appears on screen larger than life looking down on an sometimes childlike Weaver or pops up onscreen as though lying under a table on stage. Weaver disappears behind projection screens and pops up as though dressed to go puddle jumping. The whole effect is charming and captivating as although they both reference the issues of the aging process they also encapsulate the promise it may also bring.
This is an intelligent piece of theatre that informs and engages with ever becoming preachy. It is also deeply pragmatic and challenges concepts around disability and aging. Shaw had a stroke in 2011 that impacted her hearing and her ability to learn lines. In this production she wears hearing aids and large black headphones. They look kickass with her sharply tailored suit but also allow for Weaver to feed her her lines. These are women unapologetic for their aging bodies and all the more glorious for it. They stand strong as performers both separate on stage and together. They do a lovely take on Noah Baumbach’s film Marriage Story that plays on butch/femme dynamics. They bicker on both the professional levels of who has awards and grants, and who wants to stop performing or carry on. They bicker about infidelity within their personal relationship but the nugget of intimacy that gleams through is when Weaver picks up the others spectacles and hands them to her and Shaw smiles her appreciation. In that small exchange there is no last gasp but 153 years of words spoken and unspoken.
ThingsHidden Since the Foundation of the World is the final piece of a trilogy that follows on from two Fringe First winners, The Believers Are But Brothers and Rich Kids: A History of Shopping Malls in Tehran. Any concerns regarding that tricky “third” album are quickly dissipated as Javaad Alipoor introduces the subject matter for the next 90 minutes. This is a whip-smart journey that delves into the unsolved murder of ’70s Iranian pop icon Fereydoun Farrokhzad via murder mystery podcasts and an exploration of digital culture and post colonial theory. This new production expands on themes from the previous works looking at how technology, resentments and fracturing identities are changing our world.
Alipoor sends his audience down Internet rabbit holes where we ride the hyperlinks and visit the land of Wikipedia where not everything is as it seems and via a live murder mystery podcast we emerge as seasoned supersleuths face to face with a real life Persian musical superstar. An actual flesh and blood man with a Wikipedia page who steps onstage mindfully aware that someone in this audience tonight might actually be there to assassinate him. This is a production that is fast moving and demands the rapt attention of its audience; anything less and you risk being cast adrift in Tehran, Vancouver or the lowlands of Scotland.
The staging is deceptively simple with an all black set and a lecturn but as with the Internet and cross cultural experience nothing is quite as it seems. Screens move from side to side and sets appear to open like in an advent calendar…this is multi cultural, multi layered and multi dimensional experience that invites the audience to look at the big picture in all its elements and shades. Live action as King Raam and Me-Lee Hay make music in a studio, blurred newspaper images, colour TV film footage, Alipoor at his lecturn, Asha Read delivering a podcast, Wikipedia pages floating over screens…like translucent layers of onion being peeled back…its heady stuff that you can’t not breathe in and may leave a tear in your eye.
In the ’70s a beloved Persian music icon, by the ’80s Farrokhzad was a political refugee in Germany working in a grocery store and just 6 months before his brutal and unsolved murder in 1992 he sold out two nights at The Royal Albert Hall. That’s quite a story…imagine if something similar had happened to our national treasure Tom Jones! Shocking, sad and tragic but in the past. Yet it really isn’t when a death remains stubbornly unsolved and theatre makers like British/Iranian Javaad Alipoor make us click those hyperlinks. It really isn’t when Raam Emami speaks of his experience as a Canadian/Iranian musician whose work is both celebrated and castigated in Iran. It really isn’t when he tells you about his father Kavous-Seyed-Emami, a lecturer, tortured and murdered in Tehran…though Wikipedia says he committed suicide while on detention. It really isn’t when Raam Emami or King Raam is on a death list discovered by the FBI.
Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World is one of those really great pieces of theatre that makes you think, it provokes and it informs but it does so without being earnest or preachy. This is the kind of theatre we need more off so click on the hyperlink below and book your ticket now!!
Based on the novel and film by John Ajvide Lindqvist
Directed by Bryony Shanahan
ROYAL EXCHANGE THEATRE
To the uninitiated LETTHERIGHTONEIN might look like a typical Halloween vampire gorefest, but thankfully this production is so much more. The blood and gore may spurt in a plentiful supply, but at its glistening heart this a story about love, otherness and acceptance. A lonely young boy being viciously bullied at school and ignored by his alcoholic mother meets an ageless, sexless vampire hungry for more than just blood. This hugely successful Swedish novel has spawned numerous film, television and theatre adaptations. Director Bryony Shanahan takes this 2013 adaptation by Jack Thorne and creates an almost immersive audience experience in the round. As the tension builds and the exits are blocked the audience is trapped just like the victims, the peril of leaving the theatre blood splattered is viscerally real and the poignancy of such a macabre love story becomes painfully vivid.
The set design by Amelia Jane Hankin is highly effective in creating an early Eighties atmosphere that is versatile enough to function as the inside of a school sports facility, a bleak Swedish council estate, eerie woods and a Sweetie concession in a neon bright shopping mall. The ladders and platforms over the stage, and the climbing frame all give the production room to build the drama and a real kinetic energy; however the continual wheeling in and out of additional props is often as distracting as it is effective. The startling use of light by Joshua Pharo to propel and enhance the horror elements of the drama is stunningly good especially when coupled with the sound design by Pete Malkin. The overall effect is to create a real sense of nothing ever being quite what it seems or that permanence or security is fleeting and can vanish in a curl of steamy air or the sudden silver flash of a blade.
In the main this is a strong cast with some lovely character driven performances from Darren Kuppan and a bleak and intensely creepy Hakan delivered by Andrew Sheridan. The two central performances are uniformly excellent with the inspired casting of Rhian Blundell as Eli and Pete MacHale as Oskar. Blundell is utterly captivating as the centuries old vampire child. Her physical presence morphs like quicksilver between wary and tentative youth to muscular and visceral blood hungry creature, and then on to winsome innocent charm. MacHale as Oskar is sweetly awkward and geeky with a keen intelligence that comprehends the failures of the adults around him while his innocence is bewildered by his bullies and mesmerised by the sexless Eli who smells of death and stale blood. Both actors are utterly believable and allow for this story to rise above the usual teen vampire fare to become something much more emotionally satisfying.
There are some problematic issues with this production but the overall feel is of a stimulating and satisfying night at the theatre. Director Bryony Shanahan may have sometimes allowed for overly busy scenes or in the case of the scene with Oskars’ father a somewhat redundant one, however overall this is a gorefully gorgeous production. Some of its most memorable moments such as the swimming pool scene were climactic on so many levels and a potent reminder of The Royal Exchange at its very best.
It is always exciting to see performers at the start of their careers especially if you are lucky enough to get to see students honing their craft as they study. Here in Manchester those opportunities arise at The Arden School of Theatre, now futher enhanced by their new purpose built theatre. A few years ago I saw the then third year students in a memorable production working with Figs in Wigs. Now graduated, Elise Gilbert is back in Manchester with her first solo show that has previously shown at Camden Peoples Theatre in London.
Bad Jokes About Men blends truly naff jokes with Gilbert’s unique blend of exuberant charm, queer politics, clowning skills and live journaling. The range of skits use her great comic timing and natural physicality to explore traditional jokes, verbatim comments made to other young females and her own personal experience of being the butt or boobs of just a big old joke. At one point she addresses her audience asking How long can a joke keep on going for? Like so many others she is clearly not amused by the ‘joke’ and this show is a determined attempt to turn the tables and see how funny men find it when they become the butt or with her help the balloon penis of the ‘joke’.
Gilbert is multi-talented using a range of performance skills to ilustrate her argument and she carries off the performance with aplomb. She has an easy confidence on stage and has a genuine rapport with her audience that is impressive for someone doing their first solo show. She is adept at using eye contact in the space to really get the audience onside whether she is looking wryly humerous at an individual, gurning, expressing her anger or her vulnerability to the crowd.
The use of multimedia is highly effective whether to perform as alternate characters such as ‘Rob’ who tells ‘his’ traumatic experience as a WMCSM (white middle class straight man) or to gradually reveal the messages received by a male ‘friend’. It is the latter that provides the final nail in the coffin to this long running joke on women. This slow reveal alludes to the confusion and discomfort of being on the receiving end of statements such as I had a wank over you last night. Gilbert uses journaling tools to perceptively outline the many ways this might not feel funny to a young, queer woman you know. The closing technique used to make her point is intellectually incisive and theatrically very satisfying.
Written and Devised and Performed by Wayne Steven Jackson
AND HERE I FIND MYSELF is a natural progression/ companion piece to the digital work FROM ONE TO US devised by Jackson in 2020. This latest work expands on the themes around how heteronormative expectations impact our beliefs around parenting, life goals and how we deal with disappointments. Jackson plays deftly with our perception of typical one man confessional performance by utilising a intermedial approach that blends live and digital media. This is a really vital piece of story telling that opens up conversation around how an individual copes when science and society finally expand to permit single sex surrogacy only for new obstacles to appear.
As a performer Jackson is fascinated by memory and the use of theatrical techniques to explore ways in how to re-experience memories. He also has an uncanny ability to appear utterly in the moment which is perhaps how he forges and crafts nuggets of memory into such vivid capsules. This ability to be so present on stage makes for a great connection with his audience, while also making it impossible to tell just how personal this story is to him and how much is devised. The end result is deeply affecting and at times painful to watch, raising the question of who looks after performers when they leave the stage after delivering work such as this?
This is a show that is playful and engaging as we observe Jackson intent and diligent as he is put through his paces by a series of commands…HIDE..JUMP… as he plays hide and seek and climbs ladders. What becomes apparent is that following the rules and doing the right thing does not always culminate in a satisfactory outcome. This is the central tenet of the show as the onscreen images reveal nuggets of family memories from a good boy who grows up in a world that is gradually changing to allow previously unavailable options to a young gay man. Laws change and Science advances and here is the opportunity as a single man to finally have a child. This piece will resonate with anyone who has experienced the trauma of having had hopes raised only to be repeatedly dashed in the lottery of the reproduction process. What makes this work especially thought provoking is the male perspective; this is a potent reminder that this issue is a source of anguish to anyone wishing to have their own child regardless of gender or sexuality. AND HERE I FIND MYSELF also suggests the loneliness of this journey as a single gay man presented at every turn by a single fucking magpie.
Visually the staging looks polished and stylish. The screens either side of centre stage project images of the boy and the man using old photos and new filmed material. The illusion of magic is added by Jackson appearing to adjust colour and lustre to these memories by a sweep of his hand like a painter. The effect is lovely and engages childish glee while also alluding to a performer who can control technology on stage but who feels bitterly let down by it on a deeply personal level. The final scenes shock and dismay as the images literally shred on stage and fragmented hopes and dreams are tenderly gathered together in a tattered pile. This is a thoughtful and really tender production which has been skillfully conceived and executed.