Suitcase bulging, train heaving, seat reservation system playing up. Arrive late, straight to hotel, unpack, straight off to first show – Frantic Assembly’s Beautiful Burnout – hot, so hot; performers dripping, audience fading, plastic seats not helping. Wannabe boxer tumbles out of washing machine, star boxer bursts through TV screens. Spot familiar faces on other side of audience, walk to next show together, one collides with another passer-by in spectacular Frantic Assembly style. Drink beer on steps and ponder next experience: Sub Rosa. Follow story of a murdered chorus girl up and down stairs in a Masonic lodge. Grand Guignol gore in mysterious rooms, sitting thigh to thigh with strangers. Down fire escape on to cobbled street, past midnight, looking out for villain of the piece, but to no avail. Back to hotel.
Early next morning, clothes for all weathers packed in bag, Mac slung over arm, plunge into throng of Pleasance Courtyard. Spot familiar face, catch up, then into show together – You’re Not Like the Other Girls, Chrissy. Hot, so hot. Tiny space, French train station, grandmother’s story, wonders in suitcases. Out into blazing sunshine, all-weather clothes loading down bag, mac unnecessary, dart down an alleyway, across road to another makeshift venue with what looks like a soup kitchen serving lunch inside. Les Argonautes: four bald clowns dressed in white. They balance, juggle, twinkle. In front row large group of adults with learning disabilities sit in silent amazement. Give next show a miss after hearing bad reports, lounge around hotel, repack all-weather gear into bag then off to pub for Honest. Find comfortable corner on leather-upholstered settle, order gin and tonic, sigh with pleasure. Spot familiar face over other side of bar, cross to say hello. Suddenly performance begins. Trapped on stool virtually in middle of bar. Gin and tonic on other side of bar. Shuffle along to seat with back. Awkward position, crane neck to see actor. Actor cranes neck to see me. Gin and tonic tantalising but out of reach. Actor sparkles, writing sizzles, gin and tonic loses its fizz. Long hike to Big Top for next show: No Fit State Circus. Replacement gin and tonic soothes blisters. All-weather gear heavy in bag. Spot familiar face on sound desk, catch up. She tells me it’s a promenade, hurrah: no seats at all. Imperceptibly show begins above head. Crane neck to see up. 19 performers, live band, huge space, swinging and twisting on equipment, throwing and catching each other, fire and water. Anarchic circus, huge party, leave on adrenaline high.
Up early next day, pack all-weather clothes in bag, off to the New Town. First show: Alecky Blythe’s verbatim drama Do We Look Like Refugees? In Georgian. Sparks of humour, moving stories, Georgian music. Hurried hello to familiar face at end before she has to move the set out for the next show which will begin in 20 minutes. A choice now: Our Share of Tomorrow back at Pleasance, or En Route at Traverse? Toss coin: En Route wins. It’s a promenade, so no seats at all, hurrah! Meet in foyer, sent off on first stage of journey. Juggling mobile in one hand, iPod in the other. ‘Turn right, then right again,’ I’m advised. Turn right, then panic. Did she say right? Or left? Journey through Edinburgh closes and wynds, up and down steps, round backs of buildings, across courts. All-weather gear heavy on shoulder, mac over arm, sun shines: hot, so hot. Find secret messages filed amongst CDs in record shop, hidden behind blue door at bar, chalked on walls and kerbs. Finally coffee in pavement café in shower of welcome cool rain. Wear mac! Eat swiftly en route to next show: Emma Thompson presents Fair Trade. Long queue, sell-out show, lavish production, 50 minutes of short scenes, long scene changes, unremarkable live music. Frantic journey to next show, queue in sun, all-weather gear back in bag. Limbik Theatre’s The Harbour. Frugal, inventive, poetic, striking live music. Stay put for Idle Motion’s Vanishing Horizon: grandmother’s story, wonders in suitcases. Back to hotel for relaxing dinner rounded off with sampling of various local whiskies.
Up early to catch train home. An all-too-brief, but inspiring visit. But by now craving a normal evening in a purpose-built theatre, an upholstered seat, a clear beginning to the show, a view of the stage that doesn’t involve craning my neck to see between two other heads, no sound bleed from next door and air conditioning.
Back to the New Vic it is, then. There’s no place like home!
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Last year's adventure, The Wicked Lady
At last, a holiday!
I’ve persuaded my long suffering partner that his ideal way to spend it is in The Athens of the North: the City of Edinburgh. Just at the time when the entire theatre industry of the UK and beyond descends on the city for a festival of comedy, drama and physical theatre…we’ll be seeing at least seven shows a day for the three days we’re there, catching up with lots of old friends and reliving fond memories of the days when we used to take shows to the Festival and worry about sleep deficit and Vitamin C levels.
Some of the shows I’m going to see are by people we’ve worked with - Frantic Assembly’s / Beautiful Burnout written by Bryony Lavery, whose The Wicked Lady was an adventure for us last year; verbatim drama Do We Look Like Refugees? by Alecky Blythe, who’s currently working on a documentary for us; Caroline Horton’s You’re Not Like the Other Girls, Chrissy, which we’ve just supported with rehearsal space. Then some promenades to give me an artistic nudge (En Route at the Traverse and David Leddy’s Sub Rosa) and some circus which is a medium I’m increasingly interested in (Les Argonautes and No Fit State). Some pieces by other regional theatres (Northampton’s Honest and York Theatre Royal’s Our Share of Tomorrow) and a number of complete wild cards including, I hope, some work for children and some on-the-edge physical theatre.
I’m not planning to spend all of my holiday in a theatre. I’ve got some good books to read, and a garden in need of tending, and a drama to finish for Woman’s Hour. Plenty to be going on with!
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A week of reading and planning.
There are budgets to be projected for 2011-12 and 2012-13; there are Heads of Department to be talked with after my long seclusion due to Bleak House rehearsals and Peter Pan casting; there are plays to be read and thought about.
The latter proves most difficult, until suddenly our phone system, which is being replaced, goes silent and, coincidentally, our server goes down, depriving us not only of email and internet but all the documents we hold centrally. Everyone is at a loss as to what to do. ‘If only we had a library!’ someone says. We do. It’s in my office, and I adjourn to read some classic drama.
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The Young People's Theatre Company rehearse for their performance of Regeneration
Journalism student Laura Martlew talks about her work experience at the theatre, reporting on the New Vic’s award-winning community programme, Borderlines.
When I first came to the New Vic on my work placement for university, I thought, quite smugly, that I already had quite an accurate idea of who Borderlines were and the type of work that they do. However, I didn’t realise until I learnt more about the company, how much I didn’t know.
Through looking around the New Vic’s website and flicking through brochures, I came across many articles written about Borderlines’ work. I was surprised to find out how in depth their work for the community actually is, and the hard-hitting subjects that they cover, such as forced marriages and ‘honour’ violence.
I was aware that Borderlines had links with local schools and education, and I knew that the New Vic was a place that many schools visited, to see their marvellous shows – I was lucky enough to see The Tempest a few years ago, as part of my A level studies, and it brought all that I’d learnt completely alive. What I didn’t realise, however, was how much of the community Borderlines reaches out to. As well as their work with local schools and college groups, they also run the Young Persons Theatre Company, and work within the community with many people, including older people, troubled young people, people with disabilities and people who belong to different faith groups etc.
The stories that Borderlines tell through their plays and workshops always have a purpose. They use theatre to teach the community about important issues that affect all of our lives, and they offer a deeper understanding into them, helping them to build self-worth, and develop positive attitudes towards negative situations.
While I was here on my placement, I was also fortunate enough to speak to Chris Lewin, Director of Borderlines Young People’s Theatre Company, and talk to him about a play they are performing, called Regeneration. The Young People’s Theatre Company was established for young people of different abilities and backgrounds who have previously taken part in projects with Borderlines. One aspect that definitely comes across from speaking to Chris and hearing about Borderlines from different people is that they are a very passionate team, who care a lot about giving to the community. It is clear that the most important aspect with any project, for them, is the journey of the participants and making sure that they get the most out of Borderlines’ work.
When I learnt that Borderlines had received national awards and acclaim in recognition for their work, I was not at all surprised. They are a truly inspiring company.
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A thought-provoking day at Birkbeck College, listening to presentations from students about to graduate from the MA in Theatre Directing.
Each has spent up to eight months in residence at a theatre, assisting the director on one or more shows at the same time as shrewdly assessing the rehearsal and production process, and now each student delivers an essay and a spoken presentation on some aspect of directing that’s been focused by this experience.
In the afternoon, we have half an hour with each student to ask questions. I’m intrigued and provoked in all sorts of interesting ways – not least because, this autumn, we’ll be joined at the New Vic by one of the Birkbeck students, who will assist me on Peter Pan and report back on the experience to this forum next summer.
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