A hefty week for theatre, so buckle up!

September in the Rain isn't just a recent memory or a sentimental song, it's also a play written by John Godber in 1983, allegedly about his family but also about every Yorkshire couple who sat in deckchairs on the beach at Blackpool complaining about the weather, each other, and everyone else - in fact the dramatic structure is a series of cliches strung nostalgically together... but the current production at Salisbury Playhouse skillfully finds the humour, and underlines the nostalgic charm. Jack and Liz are a couple who have never heard words like dysfunctional or counselling, so they rub along annoyingly and forgivingly and somehow manage to enjoy their annual holiday despite travel friction, awful lodgings, frequent rows, and constant rain. 

It's the excellence of the acting from Ian Kelsey and Nicola Sloane - subtly showing irrational mood swings but always, somehow, endearing - and it's the sharp direction from Gareth Machin, plus skilled lighting effects (Johanna Town) that make this such an excellent production: swift-moving enough to be entertaining though with no dramatic surprises, it leaves a slight aftertaste of sandy ice-cream as you remind yourself how life was gentler then, and can never be so innocent again. This production has been already mentioned in this blog, as I met the excellent cast last month, and am glad to report that Ian recovered from his script-related narcolepsy, and Nicola's delightful giggle survived the ardors of rehearsal. 

As theatres move cautiously, with streamed overlap, into old-style performances, some have decided that online productions may well provide a future, appealing as they do to a limitless geographic area. Going the Distance is a co-production from the Lawrence Batley Theatre, Oxford Playhouse, The Dukes & The Watermill Theatre - a new comedy by Henry Filloux-Bennett and Yasmeen Khan, directed by Felicity Montagu, with a stellar cast which includes Sara Crowe, Shobna Gulati, Sarah Hadland, and Matthew Kelly with Stephen Fry. The storyline is totally on-theme: a small theatre, struggling to survive, puts on a last-ditch production choosing, somewhat over-ambitiously, The Wizard of Oz.  Naturally, egos and personal agendas intrude, and Oscar Wilde's Miss Prism's precept for fiction - that the good end happily - is only partially observed. Satire is from the start somewhat over-larded, but it does give perceptive insight into the difficulties facing live theatre at this time. Shakespeare, of course, overcame plague to continue successfully producing, but he didn't have netflix to compete with, so please watch with sympathy. Available until 17 October. 

Now for probably the most impassioned and skilful show online right now: Bristol Old Vic is promoting Can I live?, conceived and performed by Fehinti Balogun to share his journey into the world of environmental activism - its inspiration, its effect on his family and friends, and how his life was radically changed by understanding the current prospects, and real history, of our planet.   This is not only compelling and moving in the way our cultural history and the environmental prospects of our planet are always disturbing,  it's also brilliantly presented using spoken word, hip-hop, animation, graphs & graphics, and concluding with options  for positive involvement. Created by Complicité and available until 10 October for whatever you choose to donate, this one is really worth an hour of your life. 

Bristol Old Vic also had another idea to connect with a wider audience through online options: All The Threads You Left Behind is the first of a series of Sudden Connections - short pieces by five south-west artists, free to view.  This one is created by Anna Rathbone mourning the suicide of a friend.  Previously a 1:1 performance installation, this digital version commissioned by Bristol Old Vic Ferment allows the viewer to choose the pace & style of the narration - my choice was to read as well as listen to the text, and to contribute to the 'threads' memories too.

Back on the live stage, John Cooper Clarke arrived at Frome's Cheese & Grain on Thursday with his current tour I Wanna Be Yours - the title of one of his most iconic poems (you can remind yourself of it here) and also of his new book.  John's ability to entertain a crowd seems unflagging as he blends jokes & observations with book extracts and performances of his popular classics: he wrote Beasley Street, he claims, "18 years before that bitch Margaret Thatcher got in, and I worry I might have given her a few ideas!"  It has an update now, which John also shared: Beasley Boulevard.  And despite joking that marriage was useful only because 'without it we'd have to fight with complete strangers', he concluded with this poignant tribute: I've fallen in love with my wife.

And now for something completely different. What if in 1594 Will Shakespeare's players, made tetchy by the plague outside and the mounting bodycount in their new drama, had insisted on abandoning the Aristotelian rules of tragedy to create a merry ending for Hamlet.  Thus, Hamlet Act 6 A Comedy, performed by Shakespeare Live at the Merlin Theatre, introduces Friar Lawrence from Romeo & Juliet, now reskilled after his disaster with the star-crossed lovers, to devise a resurrection for all the slain, plus new liaisons for everyone.  Laurence Parnell as both bard and friar provides a series of unlikely revivals: none of the poisons or sword-wounds were terminal, Ophelia didn't drown she tripped, and even the skull of Yorrick gets a rewrite. Clearly the team had great fun with this extended adaptation of a short script by Dennis Harkness, directed by Alison Paine.

In case you've got this far and are wondering if everything this week involved seated observation, the answer is no, there was also some walking about: The new exhibition at Hauser & Wirth  by Thomas J Price entitled Thoughts Unseen features bronze heads, some small and some enormous, and several incredibly large bodies. They are really impressive - enigmatic but accessible: the artist says his aim is to question historic narratives & power structures in society, using presentation and scale to explore our assumptions. His monumental figures inevitably trigger thoughts of the current debate around monuments in public places, too.  It's superbly crafted, thought-provoking without being overly cryptic, and well worth a visit - a return visit too. This exhibition, and the Eduardo Chillida one too, will be in the galleries until January 3. And the gardens there, of course, are lovely even in autumn and winter.

Saturday should have been music night at The Sun in Frome but sadly the popular Raggedy Men had to cancel - though this did give me the chance to catchup on Have I Got News For You, and Richard Osman's House of Games Night, two TV-trivia gems postponed by Friday's reopening of The Crown, my local hostelry, now completely revamped for gloozing (glam boozing.)  But the week did end with live music - lots of it, as popular Nunney Acoustic Cafe reopened with fizz (literally) after its 18 month lull. Eight acts took the stage, ranging from folk to funk, solo debut to celtic band - all superb: here's the featured guest band from Swindon Splat the Rat and Frome's new quartet combo Unit 4.  Dancing between tables and Keren's opulent cakes were both popular accompaniments to the onstage entertainment. 

 

Finally in a busy week: regular readers will know that, although my passion is theatre, occasionally a movie will lure me to Frome's smashing little Westway Cinema - all seats four quid, and ice-creams on a tray at the intermission like in the old days. No Time to Die, Daniel Craig's final outing as James Bond, was the occasion this week. As I'm not really competent to review this medium, here's  the Guardian's Peter Bradshaw to explain why he gave the show 5 stars: "It is of course a festival of absurdity and complication, a headspinning world of giant plot mechanisms moving like a Ptolemaic universe of menace. It is startling, exotically self-aware, funny and confident, and most of all it is big." Here's a link to a short homage to the actor who kept the  Bond franchise alive.

Dramatic anarchy, protest art, wild music & Word Play...

Julius Caesar is arguably the most political play ever written and there could hardly be a better time than now for Bristol Old Vic's production of Shakespeare's tale of ambition and chaos in ancient Rome. We're still in Italy, true, but in a symbolic cityscape of dark skies and towering columns, slogan-scrawled & more like struts on a mighty motorway than marble pillars, where excited crowds invade the auditorium. Julian Glover's Caesar enters like a cross between a scary Godfather boss and the charismatic older leader of a popular contemporary party, and the timelessness of conflict is plangent in every aspect of director Simon Dormandy's thrilling interpretation.

As with BOV's excellent King Lear last year, the performance showcases the talents of graduating students from the Theatre School alongside the expertise of a small group of more experienced practitioners, and like last year this combination results in an unforgettable theatre experience. Among the young performers Freddie Bowerman is strong as reluctant conspirator Brutus and Ross O'Donnellan is superb as Mark Anthony, somehow making those famous impassioned words sound dangerous and new. Design is also a team effort in a collaboration that works well: sharp costume and great lighting enhance overall visuals and there are some great touches ~ the glittering chandelier a symbolic crown over Caesar's head, Mark Anthony's suit-carrier, and the house lights coming on for his rallying speech making all the audience complicit... On till July 1, highly recommended.

Still in Bristol, Tobacco Factory Theatres has a double bill of short plays developed from Bristol Ferment. Bea Roberts, a Devon writer whose previous play And Then Come The Nightjars I really loved, is now touring with Infinity Pool. Her previous play was about the ravages of foot & mouth which sounds tedious and grim but was totally engaging: this one is 'a modern retelling of Madame Bovary' which sounds saucy and satiric but is more of a retelling of Bridget Jones. There's a pleasing irony about a theatre show constructed entirely from projected digital imagery so that we have to imagine the story rather than watch it and though there are more jokes than insights Bea is a skilful and popular performer who is winning praise throughout this tour.

Following Bea's silent story of faltering online romance, a complete contrast as Bertrand Lesca and Nasi Voutas approach their audience smiling and ask us all to hold hands, an icebreaker so unexpected it actually works. Eurohouse seems at first a playfully friendly piece of physical theatre, but the mood darkens into trickery and bullying which escalates up to a shock reveal that their real agenda is to expose how life in Greece has been damaged by the terms imposed after their economy collapsed. Fellswoop Theatre hatched this provocative & powerful show with support from Bristol's Mayfest and it won an award for experimentation and innovation at Edinburgh last year.

Barney Norris is another young playwright from the Southwest ~ he grew up in Wiltshire ~ and his work is massively acclaimed so I was sorry to miss Echo's End, a tale of young lovers, and keen to see his other new production While We're Here at Salisbury Playhouse. This tale of middle-aged not-lovers has been well received: one critic found a Chekhovian comic sadness in the exchanges, which translates as a bit like one of those banal conversations you overhear on a bus. The actors are both excellent. Tessa Peake-Jones, David Jacobs girlfriend from Only Fools & Horses, is the dim-but-cheery woman well and Andrew French the only black man in Havant, a town whose very name resonates a wistful sense of something absent. He wishes he was somewhere else, she doesn't know what to wish for apart from nice decor. Unacknowledged loneliness is a familiar theme, as is imagining the dreary lives of those older than us when we are young.  Norris says in his press release 'So much of England is made up of towns like Havant where people get by, and dream of more, and pass their lives in the leap between their realities and their aspirations.'  There are some good lines (“If the whole world exists and you’re living in Havant, that’s quite a life choice really" ) but like the sheep on Cumbrian hills to which the woman rather strangely likens herself, they don't go very far. Image: Mark Douet

Nunney Accoustic Cafe celebrated their 10th anniversary with a huge weekend party but I missed most if it (a very lovely wedding, so a much happier reason than the virus of which I have much spoken) though I did catch a couple of great acts on Saturday evening: Wychonsky's punk band belting out Babylon's Burning and the fantastic Al O'Kane with his band.

Sunday jazz continues at the Cornerhouse: Here's Kevin Figes quartet playing Nordic tunes in a Scandanavian themed jam session. And both my favourite bands were playing on the Silk Mill stage at Friday's Wild Whiskey Rebellion ~ at one point simultaneously, which was particularly impressive as there are six Back Wood Redeemers and Captain Cactus with his gorgeous Screaming Harlots are a 9-piece! A great night with much dancing.

Also on Friday, Black Swan Arts launched their new exhibition In the Absence of Truth. Dorset artist Ricky Romain is a Human Rights activist who uses art to reflect on political issues and themes of immigration, war crimes, torture and other injustices. Powerful and timely, this is also the show that will relaunch Words at the Black Swan drop-in workshops to respond to each new exhibition in writing ~ restarting Monday 19 June, 3-4.30 in the gallery. Here's Ricky, and there'll be a discussion & talk on June 29.

Ending with words, and I'm beyond pleased that the sunshine this week lured my voice back in time for a chat with Frome Fm's On-Air Book Group and a recording on Saturday at Visual Radio Arts. Phil Moakes, artistic director & main inspiration for this new venture, had the admirable idea of including poetry as well as music in his schedule. For this inaugural Word Play session I was joined by Liv Torc, Moira Andrew, and John Christopher Wood, David Chandler interviewed us and we each did a little set, and you can see it all HERE!

Farce, forests, pole dance, moon eclipse & Isis rising

It is a truth universally acknowledged that though a marriage is the joining together of bride and groom, a wedding is for the bride's mother. This is her day, to dress up and to gloat, summon distant relations, settle old scores, hire a marquee to exasperate the neighbours, and rush round John Lewis compiling a gift list. Chris Chibnall's play Worst Wedding Ever at Salisbury Playhouse is based on this premise and from audience reactions of hilarious recognition, I was lucky to be in another country from my mother when I married.

Julia Hills, who was unforgettable as Madame Lyubov Andreievna Ranevskaya in The Cherry Orchard at Tobacco Factory a couple of years back, once again shows how brilliant she is at playing autocratic domineering mother-figures, while Elizabeth Cadwallader, whether berating her ex or falling out of a portaloo, is comic genius as sister of the bride. (She does a sympathetic ear well too, telling her sister's fiance, "When it goes wrong between the two of you, I’m a good listener - and an even better shag.")
And while Elizabeth Hopper and Nav Sidhu, the about-to-be-newlyweds, are both charming, the play really belongs to the comedy roles, including the vicar (Keiran Hill) and dog-mad, offspring-allergic, father-of-the-bride Derek Frood ("You were alright as babies but you became difficult ~ for twenty years..")  It's mostly farce, but the second act brings unexpected insight into family dynamics that redeem the storyline from mere superficiality. And it's tremendous fun, with a wonderful wedding-party-style band bursting out all over when you least expect them, so if you or anyone you know has been affected by the wedding issue, do go along -it's on till 25 February.  Images: The Other Richard

The monthly social for Frome Writers Collective on Monday was a busy one with two speakers: Tim O'Connor,  a Town Councillor as well as a writer, unveiled first plans for a specifically literary festival ~ Literally Frome ~ to be organised next year (yes, it is exciting... more later...) and Karin Campagna gave us a peek  behind the scenes of Winstone's takeover of  Hunting Raven Books. Reassuringly, all staff will stay on and local writers are still supported ~ in fact we now get 10% discount ~ and the main question as yet unanswered is whether the shop name will change, in which case I confidently expect a petition to retain our much-loved raptor. Here's a picture of Tim (he's a stand-up comic too so I'm hoping he won't mind me sharing this snap) and a view of the smart new bookshop interior.
And in an especially creative week in Cheap Street, where eclectic independent traders are always artistic in their window displays, as well as Hunting Raven ~ now also offering coffee in its smart refurbished premises ~ the fabulous Frome Wholefoods has a great makeover look, and Elli on the King Street corner devised an inspired window display to celebrate valentine month.

An extraordinary party night on Friday, with the finale of an extraordinary project: the Isis • Horus • Osiris exhibition opened at Silk Mill with esoteric electronica, projected visuals, live performance from Andrew Heath and a long display of butterfly images, each featuring photographs of eyes collected by the artist.
Andrew Shackleton chose the night of the lunar eclipse to launch these amazing images to further empower all these elements. I was one of the eye-photo donors (thanks David Goodman) ~ here's how I would look to a cosmic lepidopterist.

Another gathering the next day ~ segue here is amazingly talented Frome personalities ~ saw Frome's Assembly Hall crammed so full that stewards were uttering quivering cries about fire regulations as the last of us crowded in to hear Julian Hight talking about the ancient trees of Selwood forest. Here I learned among other things that we have many ancient oaks, that yews can live 4000 years and that 'forest' historically meant not the dense growth we think of today but lightly-wooded pasture claimed by the king.  Julian's expertise and passion plus superb projections of his photographs ensured an absolutely enthralling hour. More here about ancient-tree spotting and here is where you can vote for the European tree of the year (top tip: go for the Brimmon Oak, the tree that moved a bypass in Wales... one silent step for a trunk, one giant squelch for developers...)

Change of mood on Saturday evening with Polers'n'Poets in a show at Chapel Arts in Bath organised by Funky Monkey in support of One Billion Rising. I hadn't heard of this mass-action group opposing violence against women ~ it takes its name from the statistic of assaulted women around the world ~ until invited by Jo Butts, MC at this awareness-raising event, to join three other poets (Alice Smith, D'arcy Chappell and Rich Butnotfamous) performing with some stunning pole dancers and a really classy burlesque act. Chapel Arts Centre is a great venue and the audience was warmly responsive ~ I think there will be photos later but in the meantime here's our table...

A quick look at the music scene this week as I missed a lot, but did catch some absolute gems at Nunney Acoustic Cafe on Sunday, like Keziah singing Amy Winehouse, and Ollie playing Angie. I first heard this in 1966 at an all-nighter in Leicester Square, played by Bert Jansch... unforgettable.

Final footnote to this post is also a personal time-trek: I've finally acquired a copy of David Byrne's brilliantly quirky 1986 movie True Stories, the tale of an 'ordinary' Texan town pageant. It's as bizarre and satiric as when I first saw it, especially when 'ordinary' redneck John Goodman sings People like us - We don't want freedom - we don't want justice - we just want ... somebody to love. Thirty years on this love song sounds chillingly prescient in times when, to paraphrase Yeats, things fall apart and the centre cannot hold, the best lack all conviction while the worst are full of passionate intensity, and that rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches across America with a shadow as long as the world.

A Curious Evening of Trance and Rap with the Ogden Sisters at Frome's Merlin recreated obsessions of Victorian spiritual delusion in an extraordinary entertainment of magic, mystery and morbidity. Some of the otherworldly trickery – psychic revelations of audience handbags – was mysterious enough to provoke interval analysis, some – the spare arm & other antics after limb-constraint by audience members to demonstrate authenticity of manifestations – were hilariously fake. Audience participation was non-optional: we were all blindfolded for a sensory 'astral' train journey - though it was worth peeping to catch one of the sisters having a quick man-break with a fag while the female siblings dashed around waving lavender scents and squirting mister sprays. The sisters were all compelling, especially the medium Electra struggling between Victorian docility and Victorian hysterical insanity.
But it's not all trickery and titters: the tale is rooted in social realities as well as historical data about such soirees. Unpalatable truths about treatment of children and women emerge, showing how fascination with the next world was inspired more by despair than scientific curiosity. This world, as the eldest sister reminds us, is a pig’s arse.
It’s a little bit overlong, especially the farting and the final manifestation, but as theatrical entertainment enjoyably inventive. As the man next to me in row B said, how often do you sit in the auditorium all holding hands while the audience tie up the actors?

Californian skies continue as our un-English spring moves into April, making this time seem more for getting out and about than for writing. Last weekend bloomed with arty stuff
- Sun Street Chapel exhibition concluded with a Saturday night dance, the Artisan Market thronged Frome's Catherine Hill on Sunday, and in the afternoon I cycled lanes glittering with blackthorn blossom down to Nunney for an excellent Acoustic Cafe headlined by the Daturas.


And finally: thanks to Plan B for stepping into the news this week to blame arts funding cuts for last year's riots in a great NME interview, giving me a chance to post his new release Ill Manors.
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