The Empty Space
"A man walks across this empty space whilst someone else is watching him, and this is all that is needed for an act of theatre to be engaged. Yet when we talk about theatre this is not quite what me mean."
Peter Brook, The Empty Space (1968)
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
My Fringe
Monday, 23 August 2010
On the Fringe
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
The toughest audience?
England vs. Hungary
Wembley Stadium / ITV
Wednesday 11 August 2010
The home of English football - and the bucketload of other unnecessary grandiose terms used to describe it - is a peculiar place indeed. Particularly now, when the national team is in the doldrums, most footballers don't seem to want to play for their country. Those that do seem sullen and envious of their task, understanding why fans would boo their shambolic performances at the World Cup but seemingly aggravated nonetheless. Rooney showed signs of this as he left the field tonight, ironically waving at the boo boys. The player who launched a tirade against the fans in South Africa failed to see the point again. Wembley Stadium is supposed to be the biggest stage of them all but it regularly plays host to pantomime and farce rather than footballing excellence.
Everybody has an opinion on who is at fault for England's persistent failings. Blame the players. Blame the coaches. Blame the FA. Blame the Premier League. Blame the foreigners. Blame the-goal-that-wasn't-given. Blame Sepp Blatter. Wherever you believe the problem lies, it's important to stress that England, for the best part of 50 years have been far from one of the top teams. By current standings they sit 7th in the world rankings. How could anyone justify a ranking any higher than that?
Despite the negativity surrounding the game, on the commute home tonight, I saw a lot of families on the train on the way up to Wembley. Adrian Chiles tried to suggest the kids in attendance at the game were being punished for something by being made to watch the national team. I would hope this isn't the case, partly because I wouldn't want Chiles to be right but also because there should be no shame in young people enjoying seeing their football idols in action. If Capello makes true on his promise to rejuvenate the England team by bringing in new faces, younger players then it's a good sign they will have some support from a less jaded and seasoned set of supporters. Maybe in time they'll learn the downsides of being an England supporter but perhaps they'll bring an infectious new enthusiasm.
Throughout the Hungary game, the players were booed by the home fans. Some people critique those who boo their own team but reacting against your national team can't be compared to your club side. Your support for your national team is an accident of birth - how patriotic you choose to be as a result is a personal choice. Surely fans are well within their rights to be vocal and express disapproval? Tickets for the friendly against Hungary were reduced to between £20 and £40 - generosity knows no bounds. If good money has been spent on attending a match, whether at club or international level, fans react as they see fit and if they choose to boo to express their resentment, then so be it.
So we go back to the question of blame. It's a fairly obvious answer - blame the media. It is an argument used before but it holds true. Immediately following England's hard-fought win over Hungary, the ITV pundits were talking up the performance. It was average at best, it was a friendly so no shock there. The England team is in a state of flux - Capello is sure to go for a blend of experienced players and fresh faces during the Euro 2012 qualifiers so the transition will be gradual rather than radical. Ultimately, the personnel changes will not matter until the psyche of the team and the perceptions of the nation can be improved. Enthusiasm is contagious, but so is negativity. Players can feed off the energy of the crowd as any performer can be influenced by the atmosphere created by their audience.
The press has a part to play in influencing the fans - generally, humans are an impressionable bunch. If we are told of "divisions" in the camp because of John Terry or Steven Gerrard scandal (and I use that term loosely) then we are likely to believe them. Overexposure to a footballer's private life is intrusive and irrelevant to a man's ability to kick a ball around. The contradictory messages delivered to the general public are bizarre - on the front pages of a newspaper we'll read of scandals, in-fighting and revolt but on the back pages commentators will detail the strengths of the side and make a strong case for successes and good results. Obviously, sex sells and scandals in every part of public life - sport, music, politics - are popular news items.
If the national football team is ever to be taken seriously again, the players have got to do their part to live more moral existences and the papers should try to begin and respect privacy and boundaries. The likelihood of either of these happening is very slim so we may well be stuck with a less than satisfactory England team for some time to come.
Sunday, 8 August 2010
The Habit of Art - theatricality under the microscope
The Habit of Art
Lyttleton; National Theatre, London
Tuesday 3 August 2010
I've not seen very many plays which are set in the theatre in which they are performed. Alan Bennett's latest play depicts a theatre company in rehearsal for a production examining the estranged friendship of the poet W.H. Auden and the composer Benjamin Britten. The programme notes explain that this is an imagined conversation - Auden despised biography of himself and records of his personal dealings with peers and colleagues have been partly lost. The principle characters of this play-within-the-play - Caliban's Day - are Auden, Britten, Humphrey Carpenter - a journalist and future biographer of the two protagonists - and Stuart, a rent boy who Auden has paid for. The scenes from Caliban's Day which are being run are framed by the fictional company arriving for their day's rehearsal - we later learn this action is set in the National Theatre. As the audience files into the auditorium, the rehearsal room set is visible - the later revealed DSM is on stage making himself a cup of tea. The action begins as the actor playing Carpenter bounds into the room and prepares to deliver a monologue.
Bennett deals with the tensions between various tribes of a theatre company, exposing their collective nuances and weaknesses; the writer is precious over every word he has penned, the director desires sweeping edits to the text to suit his vision, the actors need constant reassurance and praise and the technical crew must deal with all of their colleagues' woes taking far less of the acclaim. The set design emphasises this - the rehearsal room set has a central set which is a mock up of Auden's Oxford lodgings where the action of Caliban's Day takes place. It is constructed of scaffolding and steps to create a higher level where Britten's orchestral rehearsals take place. The lower level has a mock kitchen and a bed on a raise platform creating the general impression of a cramped bedsit. Two pianos are visible - one in Auden's area of the stage and one in Britten's, a common link to tie them both together.
Both in the play and programme notes the idea that the action is an epilogue to The Tempest is discussed. The staging reflects this as the actors performing the Auden play are on an island of their own with the crew members encircling them, watching from the outside. There is animosity for the writer, Neil, who is greeted which much less than enthusiasm - he is an intruder in the rehearsal room, his job is to provide the words and allow the creativity to be injected by the actors and technical crew. When trying to explain his ideas to the company Fitz moans, 'I know the idea and I love the idea', reeking of sarcasm.
The title, "the habit of art", is repeated several times throughout the play. Fitz, the disgruntled actor, says it as Auden but the phrase is later repeated in a discussion between Neil and Kay the stage manager. The writer objects to the whims of the director and actors - 'Why does a play always have to be such a performance?!' he exclaims - but Kay only assures him, 'This is theatre, darling', much to his chagrin, arguing that 'great acting is a toolbox'. She compares actors to soldiers - both are frightened and have a 'fear of failing', a human trait possessed by all of us. In his introduction to the play, Bennett draws attention to the rather tedious elements of Caliban's Day (not his words) which include actors playing the voices of furniture and abstract characters of Auden's Words and Britten's Notes. Bennett's play can be read as a critique of over preparing a performance, layering too many techniques which cheapen the message of the text. Bennett says of Carpenter that he is too important a character to leave out of a story about Auden and Britten but unfortunately he becomes left on the sidelines. This sentiment is echoed by the writer in the play.
The story of Auden and Britten is a vehicle for Bennett to discuss the merits of art and creativity. Fitz as Auden says, 'Poetry is a craft… an art', giving it gravitas. A staunch traditionalist, Fitz is searching for the nobility of Auden, not wishing to focus on the traits of a penchant for urinating in the sink basin and fraternising with rent boys. Fitz adorns a mask to better portray Auden's appearance - the writer argues that he shouldn't play the part as he didn't bear a resemblance to the distinctive lines and drawn features of Auden. The problem with the mask is that it does not allow for suspension of disbelief. The performances of Desmond Barrit as Fitz/Auden and Malcolm Sinclair as Henry/Britten are very convincing as the two cultural behemoths - their relationship is tender, but underlying tensions are evident. As an audience member, it is difficult to be too drawn into their performance as the stage is constantly under a bright wash - the lights of the rehearsal room. In the absence of technical effects, and the incessant interjections and distractions to the performance, Caliban's Day is never in full focus.
As an audience, we see Bennett's Auden as an artist and academic in the wilderness, rejected by society and his friends. There is adoration for him - particularly during his early days as Professor of Poetry at Oxford - but he is isolated, and on this stage he occupies his island. He berates his estranged friendship with Britten who allegedly blames their separation on his work - 'art is never an excuse for cruelty', says Auden - and in compensation for distance from loved ones and New York he seems to have felt most at home, he indulges in paying for sexual encounters and becoming fodder for gossip around the university. To what extent this private impression of Auden is wholly accurate is debatable. What Bennett achieves so well in this play is satirising the theatrical process, laying bare the frailties of individuals and tackling the story of a great literary figure. As ever with Bennett, the play has a comedic edge to enhance much of the bitterness of the characters - who are all particularly well drawn - allowing for a frank examination of theatre, ultimately critiquing self-indulgence and arguing for the importance of the arts in modern society, championing its cause in a time when funding is to be cut and the future is becoming uncertain.
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Carpenter: 'Are you writing?'
Auden: 'Am I dead?'
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Wednesday, 4 August 2010
Project Morrinho - tackling harsh realities

Project Morrinho at Brazil Festival
Southbank, London
3 August, 2010
London's South Bank is currently host to, amongst other things, a festival celebrating Brazilian culture. I stumbled on this unexpectedly but was very glad I did.
Project Morrinho is a centre piece of the exhibitions on the terrace outside the Southbank Centre. The art display consists of hundreds of painted bricks to create distinctive favelas. In Brazilian Portuguese, a favela is a slum or shanty town - the models created are by residents of these favela in Rio and uniquely the artists behind it all are young people.
In creating these replica towns, the young artists used their creations for escapism and enacted roleplays of their daily lives within the recreated environment. The aims of the project revolve around providing support to the poorest and most in need residents of Rio. The installation in London is part of a series of international projects that Morrinho work on, predominately in North America.
The favela model on the South Bank recreates famous monuments on the London skyline, notably St Paul's, Big Ben and the London Eye. Brixton Market features as does nearby Stockwell. This favela was built in collaboration with young people from London offering them the chance to reproduce a small scale model of their local surroundings.
Today, 600,000 children in London live in poverty - approximately 39% of the child population.* Standards of living for such a high proportion of young people need rectification but often the problems go unnoticed, ignored. The efforts of children's charities across the capital raise awareness and need support. Project Morrinho is an example of a means of taking the harsh realities of poverty and placing them squarely in public view. The Southbank Centre and its surroundings are areas of affluence and high art - this simple idea of the painted bricks becomes highly poignant and in the time I spent in the area dozens and dozens of people stopped to take a look.
Project Morrinho's website calls itself a small revolution - the opportunities it provides are hugely admirable. The project is exciting because it gives a voice to the vulnerable and normally less fortunate. The colourful paint used on the bricks, the models of famous landmarks and the spirit of the Morrinho endeavour come together to make a truly unique piece of art on the streets of London.
For more information please visit: www.morrinho.com.
*Statistics taken from www.londonchildpoverty.org.uk.
Monday, 2 August 2010
Enron: a moral for tackling corruption
Enron by Lucy Prebble
Noël Coward Theatre, London
21-07-2010
‘Only people that are prepared to lose are ever going to win.’
The collapse of Enron in 2001 was a spectacular financial disaster, a result of mismanagement and corporate greed. Jeff Skilling, Ken Lay and Andy Fastow were the senior company figures who oversaw the events which unfold in the play. Prebble deals with the circumstances surrounding Enron’s demise against the backdrop of the current recession, at the time of writing. The play fuses characters and events from reality, comedy, music, dance and multimedia effects to create a surrealist take on this story of financial (and moral) ruin. Enron is a new kind of morality play.
A bare stage greets the audience with blue fluorescent lighting from the floor and various office equipment placed in view in the wings. The opening montage of three blind mice – actors wearing oversized mouse heads crossing the stage tentatively – sets up a damning critique of the organisation of the corporation; the blind leading the blind with no sight of future failings. As the mice leave the stage, they are replaced by office workers, an ensemble of suited office drones engaged in song and dance to disguise their often immoral behaviour. Early in the first half, the audience is assured of the success of Enron's rise - it is claimed to be as 'certain' as 'that planes won't crash'. This image will reverberate through the play in its closing stages.
Later, ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ by Guns N’ Roses plays over a montage of debauchery and extravagance - a traders’ Millennium party - with the cast dressed as cowboys. This scene foreshadows Enron’s downfall and highlights the recklessness of the individuals involved in the day-to-day operations of the company. A cameo appearance of the Lehman brothers in the second half - two actors underneath one oversized overcoat - as bumbling, indecisive caricatures is highly comedic in retrospect of recent world economic crises. The involvement of investment banks in funding Enron’s expansion should have provided clear and final warnings to the US government regarding unchecked bank activity. Prebble draws clear links between mistakes in the handling of Enron and the fall of the banking sector.
Enron’s biggest problems arguably lay with Fastow, played by Paul Chahidi, who orchestrated a “ghost” company to support the Enron share price as a means of removing debt. Chahidi does an admirable job in the role, demonstrating with distinction the transition of Fastow from timid accountant through to power hungry financial controller and ultimately to broken and shamed federal criminal. Early in the play, Fastow is dropped into a bear pit of traders - their macho, overly aggressive demeanour attributed to their Darwinian instincts - a survival of the fittest where the brash and often obnoxious rise through the ranks as the face of the organisation whilst the meek remain in the background or, like Fastow, holed up alone in a secluded basement.
The characters have a colourful rhetoric, necessary to implement their plans. To quote Fastow, ‘[all] money is debt, it’s just how you present it.’ Prebble offers a glossary of financial jargon in the programme notes but one is missing – raptor. The raptors are designed to take care of Enron’s debts and eliminate them. These raptors are physically represented by actors adorned with a dinosaur head. Fastow nurses them in his basement lair, becoming increasingly psychotic and desperate as he has little contact with any other characters in the play, besides Skilling on occasion. Chahidi's performance as a deluded man compliments Skilling's own decline.
Ed Hughes portrayed Jeff Skilling, the CEO of Enron. Hughes is the company understudy for the role but does an admirable job as lead. He balances the ever increasing anxiety of a family man who is at the helm of an continually expanding corporation. In interaction with other characters, Hughes portrays Skilling as a loud and brash individual, egalitarian and demanding. Despite displeasing personal attributes, Skilling is successful and impresses his workers - a security officer insists, 'we trust y'all up here.' He offers his charges the mantra, ‘[make] Wall Street look like Sesame Street’, to highlight the furious competition within the industry. In a sequence to summarise Enron’s role in rolling blackouts of power in California, Skilling appears with a red lightsabre, a symbol from the Star Wars franchise of evil whilst other characters hold green lightsabres, symbols of good.
The tenderness displayed by Hughes during Skilling’s scenes with his young daughter serve to contradict this simple labelling of him as evil. He confesses his obsession with the Enron share price is because, ‘[that’s] how Daddy knows how much he’s worth.’ At this point, and later when Skilling is dressed in orange prison overalls, he looks like a desperate, empty man drawing the audience’s sympathy. On the video screen, the falling share price relates directly to the slow, painful demise of the character - the lower the price, the further Hughes pushes his performance into abject anguish, trapped in a manic downward spiral.
The video projections onto the back wall of the stage are a central focus of the design. At several scene changes, political and commercial successes of the USA in the 1990s are displayed. Stocks and shares prices wash over the stage – a notable effect is the faces of the actors being turned yellow by the vast series of numbers. After the interval, an Enron commercial – ‘Ask Why’ – is shown. Later, former Enron employees will demand answers from those responsible for the crisis only to be met with diversionary tactics and avoidance. In the latter stages of the play, a visual of the Enron logo being shredded - in quite chilling fashion the image is transposed on video of the towers of the World Trade Centre collapsing under terrorist attack. A narrator describes the crash of financial markets following the event which exposed Enron's ineptitude and instability and hurried along its collapse.
It may be a crude analysis, but the Brechtian stylistic elements of music, song and visual aids are what make the play successful in conveying the moral of the tale. Whilst the characters have lost their moral compass, in the current economic situation, the regular taxpayer has domain over "bail-outs" and paying tax to relieve budget deficits and can see the bigger picture, feeling aggrieved and most hard hit when things go wrong. During the interval I overheard a fellow audience member critiquing the "burlesque and slapstick action" when tackling serious subject matter. Such light relief is essential - as audience members, we can see that with proper observation and management, financial crises can be avoided. Greater control and regulation is required in corporate society to avoid ruin and corruption in future.
‘We don’t just play the game, we are the game.’