Tuesday 22 December 2009

Interview with Michael Billington

Interview with Michael Billington

A few weeks ago I interviewed Michael Billington for a Journalism assesment. He was an incredibly friendly gentleman, buying me cake and coffee for the interview. All it took was a single email and he was willing to meet me before a show. It is refreshing to see somebody highly regarded in the theatre industry act so humbly towards somebody who wishes to be part of it. His views on education and what is shown at theatre's in London are particularly liable to heated debate, please comment. Here is the transcript in full:

What I really wanted to know, In our course we have been studying Journalism in relation to popular culture. We studied music, film, new journalism, cultural identity. We didn’t study theatre. Why is theatre not considered Popular Culture?
That’s a strange one really. Theatre differs from these other art forms because it is relative. It’s live, so it is relative only to those who see it at a particular time. All these other cultures, they are popular because they are instantly available.

Is there anything that can be done to make theatre popular culture?
I believe there is, yes. The National Theatre are doing screenings at the moment, I attended one not long ago. I watched it in a cinema in Chelsea and it was packed, it was being broadcast across 270 screens worldwide or something. It was incredible to see so many people wanting to see a staging of classic, to see Helen Mirren in Phedre.

Was it live?
Yes it was, a live broadcast.

Is this the future of theatre then?
Not the entire future but there is certainly a place or it. You have to understand that technology is changing all the rules, in everyday life and inevitably in theatre.

Did it not lose any of its vitality, from not being technically live in front of you?
No it didn’t, not at all, actually it looked better on TV, as if you had the best seats imaginable, at the very front in the stalls, everything was high definition. It was live, so it still had the danger of live performance. It was enthralling really.

I often find, when I go to the theatre, I am the youngest person there by a good thirty years. This is something that needs to change if theatre is to be relevant in culture. How can this be changed, do you agree with this?
I do yes, theatre audiences can be predominantly grey, myself included. But things are being introduced to change this, the Travelex season at the National, and the entry pass are both examples. Also the Young Vic is encouraging new writers and youth work. Its promising for youth, I really do think that, and also the National’s production of Nation, o War Horse, they are actively encouraging younger audiences.

I was reading your book, State of the Nation, and what struck me was a quote from J.B Priestley, who said something along the lines of, “Shakespeare threatens theatre because it takes all the best actors, all the money and it crowds the west end. Its prioritised almost. What do you make of this now?
Well Priestley said this 1957 I believe, and it is in no way relevant, actually I think today the reverse may well be true. I was looking at the Arts Council funding figures earlier today yesterday, they are to be released soon and what I saw fascinated me. A staggering 42% of commissioned performances in London are new writing. If anything I believe we are losing sight of the classics. I am all for invigorating and challenging new writing, but the classics are disappearing, they are forgotten.

What can the classics offer us? Are they not outdated merely by definition, I mean, would you like to see them revamped or performed the way the Globe performs Shakespeare.
I would like to see them performed in any way, any way is better than not at all. I think the classics offer us a language, a language we don’t know, a dictionary if you will that gives us an invaluable insight into history, from language and the classics we can experience the lives of past generations. We can literally live, if just for 90minutes inside Sheridan’s 18th Century. You don’t get this anywhere else so we cant lose it in the theatre. People forget that plays didn’t start with Beckett.

I walked around my Student Union the other day, and I asked groups of people what theatre meant for them, and the only truly worthwhile reply came from a group of sport lads. One said to me theatre is pointless, if he wanted drama he would watch Eastenders, if he wanted History there is a channel for that. What would your response be? I want to know why this is believed by what seems to be many.
Eastenders? I didn’t realise Eastenders was the in-thing anymore. I think this stems from the act that visiting the theatre is not mandatory. It is a choice, one that’s quite easy to ignore. There is a bias of culture which is quite frightening, it’s a result of the amount of exposure the X factor and Strictly Come Dancing receive, these shows are represented by the media as the heart of our culture. I’m proud to say I watch neither. He makes it seems as if nobody cares about theatre, but I wouldn’t worry about this, its not a negative thing. You see thousands pour out of theatre’s every night. I would also argue that Musicals are popular culture, the latest west end star is always pictured in the Evening Standard.

That’s true, but I would argue that musicals, in particular those of Andrew Lloyd Webber are reversing theatre to its lowest common denominator. Talent shows which determine lead stars are turning performances into commercial commodities, they serve no other purpose.
As in Joseph and Sound of Music? Yes I suppose they do, this is shown by the fact these shows sell out before they even begin. To me, actually, I would be bold and say that this exposes the cultural failings of the BBC. It fails completely to show any theatre. When I grew up there was a play on television every week. I saw my first Pinter on TV, The Caretaker. My first Shakespeare. The BBC is only interested in making stars. I would call the BBC a cultural failure.

There are a lot of people I know who attend drama schools and courses because they want to become these big names, they want the name in lights and the standing ovations, but I feel many schools and universities cannot prepare them for this. Do you think schools can do anything to promote theatre as a cultural institution, a popular culture as well?
I’m not sure if I’m qualified to comment on this, but I think the distinctions between drama and theatre have become blurred. Theatre is explored entirely as a collaborative art, and whilst this is no doubt a truth about theatre, there is little or no emphasis on text. Nobody reads plays anymore, everybody is busy creating gesture and movement, the basics are forgotten.

While I have been encouraged to read plays, few of the modules I have taken have encouraged me to read and completely discect particular plays. Except theatre theory, which I seem to be alone in really enjoying.
Yes there is a joy and a lot to be learnt in taking a text apart and analysing every inch of it thoroughly. In the universities I have been to, and I am not saying your university here, but the emphasis is always heavily on visceral theatre, on the Complicites and the Punchdrunks, on movement theatre. I read today in the Arts Council guidelines that this accounts for a mere 3% of theatre. So maybe the fact is universities are ineffective at preparing students because it prepares them for the smallest percentage of theatre. People tend to forget that there is more to theatre than the avant-garde and complicite. I am not saying there is anything wrong with this type of theatre, I am saying that there is no mix, there are no classics, there is no history.

If somebody told you that theatre was pointless, it was meaningless and did nothing but entertain, that they gained sufficient entertainment rom their television, what would you tell them, what would you recommend they see?
Theatre has infinite possibilities, this is why it is so exciting to work within theatre, there is a sense that anything can be achieved. I think theatre reflects upon society with more accuracy, more details than is capable with film and TV. Its also way ahead of the game, I mean we have had the Power of Yes, we have Enron, theatre is the first to explore the financial crisis in depth, both the hows and more importantly the whys. This was true of the Iraq war, it was theatre that first voiced its suspicions about the supposed weapons of mass destruction.

I believe that’s true, certainly, my example would be the Afghanistan season in Kilburn, but why theatre and not an extended documentary on television?
Theatre is alive in front of us, and it allows us to explore who we are. It is larger than life, but it is still life itself. It allows us to realise our dilemmas, and realise that these dilemmas, whilst personal to us are also shared with a large community. it’s the community a theatre creates that allows us to look at the nature of being human.

Coming back to theatre as pop culture, I think it struggles because so many people have preconceptions of theatre. I’m from a working class family, and when I told my dad I was going to study drama, he replied, ’sounds gay’. Why does this prejudice exist against theatre?
I wouldn’t worry too much, I think there are enough of us theatre lovers to form a substantial minority. Did you know that more people attend the theatre than attend football matches?

Then maybe it’s the lack of exposure that stops theatre becoming a true popular culture? Sport, for example, dominates a newspaper with a large section at the back and often pull out sections on a Monday.
Yes theatre is marginalised in newspapers, even newspapers like mine which believes itself to have a heavy interest in the arts. It only gets one page a day, and again I think it returns to bias, a cultural bias. But I wouldn’t be negative about theatre, not at all, I don’t know if you have read it but the Guardian just published an article on theatre asking if this is ‘The Golden Age’ for theatre. It all started because we had a lady come to work on our theatre team, she quit a higher paid job in television to take an almost bottom of the ladder job in theatre. When we asked her why, she replied, ‘this is where its at’. So theatre has become hip, if hip is still a hip word.

Why would you give up television for theatre? Why could you achieve more in theatre?
It allows expression that is unseen on television. Particularly, TV is politically cautious, it has to be. Theatre can explore things in depth and say what it wants. We can all learn from theatre, its depth and its ambition. An excellent example of this is the Afghan season at the Tricycle, it came about way before television started making documentaries about our plight. It explored not just today, but the historical foundations of the country, it revealed a country that is unconquerable and it inspired the television documentaries. What’s brilliant about this season is it is being moved to America. It also did very well at the Box Office, every night but one a sell out I believe. Theatre spreads ripples, a play that starts in theatre has connotations that resonate in culture.

Finally, if theatre disappeared tomorrow, if suddenly legislation was passed that the money was wasted, what would everybody lose?
Without theatre? Gosh, that’s hard to believe, that’s a very good question. I think we would lose the excitement of interaction. With a screen this interaction is phoney. We would lose the joy of seeing the essence of human life. Plays offer an image of the human to be dissected and explored. In a world where technology isolates us, theatre is there to be shared.

Interview with Michael Billington

A few weeks ago I interviewed Michael Billington for a Journalism assesment. He was an incredibly friendly gentleman, buying me cake and coffee for the interview. All it took was a single email and he was willing to meet me before a show. It is refreshing to see somebody highly regarded in the theatre industry act so humbly towards somebody who wishes to be part of it. His views on education and what is shown at theatre's in London are particularly liable to heated debate, please comment. Here is the transcript in full:


What I really wanted to know, In our course we have been studying Journalism in relation to popular culture. We studied music, film, new journalism, cultural identity. We didn’t study theatre. Why is theatre not considered Popular Culture?
That’s a strange one really. Theatre differs from these other art forms because it is relative. It’s live, so it is relative only to those who see it at a particular time. All these other cultures, they are popular because they are instantly available.

Is there anything that can be done to make theatre popular culture?
I believe there is, yes. The National Theatre are doing screenings at the moment, I attended one not long ago. I watched it in a cinema in Chelsea and it was packed, it was being broadcast across 270 screens worldwide or something. It was incredible to see so many people wanting to see a staging of classic, to see Helen Mirren in Phedre.

Was it live?
Yes it was, a live broadcast.

Is this the future of theatre then?
Not the entire future but there is certainly a place or it. You have to understand that technology is changing all the rules, in everyday life and inevitably in theatre.

Did it not lose any of its vitality, from not being technically live in front of you?
No it didn’t, not at all, actually it looked better on TV, as if you had the best seats imaginable, at the very front in the stalls, everything was high definition. It was live, so it still had the danger of live performance. It was enthralling really.

I often find, when I go to the theatre, I am the youngest person there by a good thirty years. This is something that needs to change if theatre is to be relevant in culture. How can this be changed, do you agree with this?
I do yes, theatre audiences can be predominantly grey, myself included. But things are being introduced to change this, the Travelex season at the National, and the entry pass are both examples. Also the Young Vic is encouraging new writers and youth work. Its promising for youth, I really do think that, and also the National’s production of Nation, o War Horse, they are actively encouraging younger audiences.

I was reading your book, State of the Nation, and what struck me was a quote from J.B Priestley, who said something along the lines of, “Shakespeare threatens theatre because it takes all the best actors, all the money and it crowds the west end. Its prioritised almost. What do you make of this now?
Well Priestley said this 1957 I believe, and it is in no way relevant, actually I think today the reverse may well be true. I was looking at the Arts Council funding figures earlier today yesterday, they are to be released soon and what I saw fascinated me. A staggering 42% of commissioned performances in London are new writing. If anything I believe we are losing sight of the classics. I am all for invigorating and challenging new writing, but the classics are disappearing, they are forgotten.

What can the classics offer us? Are they not outdated merely by definition, I mean, would you like to see them revamped or performed the way the Globe performs Shakespeare.
I would like to see them performed in any way, any way is better than not at all. I think the classics offer us a language, a language we don’t know, a dictionary if you will that gives us an invaluable insight into history, from language and the classics we can experience the lives of past generations. We can literally live, if just for 90minutes inside Sheridan’s 18th Century. You don’t get this anywhere else so we cant lose it in the theatre. People forget that plays didn’t start with Beckett.

I walked around my Student Union the other day, and I asked groups of people what theatre meant for them, and the only truly worthwhile reply came from a group of sport lads. One said to me theatre is pointless, if he wanted drama he would watch Eastenders, if he wanted History there is a channel for that. What would your response be? I want to know why this is believed by what seems to be many.
Eastenders? I didn’t realise Eastenders was the in-thing anymore. I think this stems from the act that visiting the theatre is not mandatory. It is a choice, one that’s quite easy to ignore. There is a bias of culture which is quite frightening, it’s a result of the amount of exposure the X factor and Strictly Come Dancing receive, these shows are represented by the media as the heart of our culture. I’m proud to say I watch neither. He makes it seems as if nobody cares about theatre, but I wouldn’t worry about this, its not a negative thing. You see thousands pour out of theatre’s every night. I would also argue that Musicals are popular culture, the latest west end star is always pictured in the Evening Standard.

That’s true, but I would argue that musicals, in particular those of Andrew Lloyd Webber are reversing theatre to its lowest common denominator. Talent shows which determine lead stars are turning performances into commercial commodities, they serve no other purpose.
As in Joseph and Sound of Music? Yes I suppose they do, this is shown by the fact these shows sell out before they even begin. To me, actually, I would be bold and say that this exposes the cultural failings of the BBC. It fails completely to show any theatre. When I grew up there was a play on television every week. I saw my first Pinter on TV, The Caretaker. My first Shakespeare. The BBC is only interested in making stars. I would call the BBC a cultural failure.

There are a lot of people I know who attend drama schools and courses because they want to become these big names, they want the name in lights and the standing ovations, but I feel many schools and universities cannot prepare them for this. Do you think schools can do anything to promote theatre as a cultural institution, a popular culture as well?
I’m not sure if I’m qualified to comment on this, but I think the distinctions between drama and theatre have become blurred. Theatre is explored entirely as a collaborative art, and whilst this is no doubt a truth about theatre, there is little or no emphasis on text. Nobody reads plays anymore, everybody is busy creating gesture and movement, the basics are forgotten.

While I have been encouraged to read plays, few of the modules I have taken have encouraged me to read and completely discect particular plays. Except theatre theory, which I seem to be alone in really enjoying.
Yes there is a joy and a lot to be learnt in taking a text apart and analysing every inch of it thoroughly. In the universities I have been to, and I am not saying your university here, but the emphasis is always heavily on visceral theatre, on the Complicites and the Punchdrunks, on movement theatre. I read today in the Arts Council guidelines that this accounts for a mere 3% of theatre. So maybe the fact is universities are ineffective at preparing students because it prepares them for the smallest percentage of theatre. People tend to forget that there is more to theatre than the avant-garde and complicite. I am not saying there is anything wrong with this type of theatre, I am saying that there is no mix, there are no classics, there is no history.

If somebody told you that theatre was pointless, it was meaningless and did nothing but entertain, that they gained sufficient entertainment rom their television, what would you tell them, what would you recommend they see?
Theatre has infinite possibilities, this is why it is so exciting to work within theatre, there is a sense that anything can be achieved. I think theatre reflects upon society with more accuracy, more details than is capable with film and TV. Its also way ahead of the game, I mean we have had the Power of Yes, we have Enron, theatre is the first to explore the financial crisis in depth, both the hows and more importantly the whys. This was true of the Iraq war, it was theatre that first voiced its suspicions about the supposed weapons of mass destruction.

I believe that’s true, certainly, my example would be the Afghanistan season in Kilburn, but why theatre and not an extended documentary on television?
Theatre is alive in front of us, and it allows us to explore who we are. It is larger than life, but it is still life itself. It allows us to realise our dilemmas, and realise that these dilemmas, whilst personal to us are also shared with a large community. it’s the community a theatre creates that allows us to look at the nature of being human.

Coming back to theatre as pop culture, I think it struggles because so many people have preconceptions of theatre. I’m from a working class family, and when I told my dad I was going to study drama, he replied, ’sounds gay’. Why does this prejudice exist against theatre?
I wouldn’t worry too much, I think there are enough of us theatre lovers to form a substantial minority. Did you know that more people attend the theatre than attend football matches?

Then maybe it’s the lack of exposure that stops theatre becoming a true popular culture? Sport, for example, dominates a newspaper with a large section at the back and often pull out sections on a Monday.
Yes theatre is marginalised in newspapers, even newspapers like mine which believes itself to have a heavy interest in the arts. It only gets one page a day, and again I think it returns to bias, a cultural bias. But I wouldn’t be negative about theatre, not at all, I don’t know if you have read it but the Guardian just published an article on theatre asking if this is ‘The Golden Age’ for theatre. It all started because we had a lady come to work on our theatre team, she quit a higher paid job in television to take an almost bottom of the ladder job in theatre. When we asked her why, she replied, ‘this is where its at’. So theatre has become hip, if hip is still a hip word.

Why would you give up television for theatre? Why could you achieve more in theatre?
It allows expression that is unseen on television. Particularly, TV is politically cautious, it has to be. Theatre can explore things in depth and say what it wants. We can all learn from theatre, its depth and its ambition. An excellent example of this is the Afghan season at the Tricycle, it came about way before television started making documentaries about our plight. It explored not just today, but the historical foundations of the country, it revealed a country that is unconquerable and it inspired the television documentaries. What’s brilliant about this season is it is being moved to America. It also did very well at the Box Office, every night but one a sell out I believe. Theatre spreads ripples, a play that starts in theatre has connotations that resonate in culture.

Finally, if theatre disappeared tomorrow, if suddenly legislation was passed that the money was wasted, what would everybody lose?
Without theatre? Gosh, that’s hard to believe, that’s a very good question. I think we would lose the excitement of interaction. With a screen this interaction is phoney. We would lose the joy of seeing the essence of human life. Plays offer an image of the human to be dissected and explored. In a world where technology isolates us, theatre is there to be shared.

Sunday 8 November 2009

Community in Day to Day Life

The insult that really sticks out from Saturday’s shift is “Fascist.” I work as a steward, and this particular ten hour shift was at Alexandra Palace for their annual fireworks display. I was inside palm court, enforcing the one way system into the beer festival hall when a petit, attractive woman spat this at me. I turned to my friend shaz who was on the other side of the door and we both creased with laughter; I had also been called “fick” (which I presume means thick) and “bib-wearing cock” but the context in which this particular insult was thrown amused us both more than anything else had in the short time we had known each other.
We agreed, Shaz, myself and a handful of the other stewards I have met over the past month, that the customers were, in two of three cases correct. The one way system was stupid, it was frustrating and I was definitely wearing a bib, but doing what we are told for just above minimum wage hardly makes any of us fascist. By seven thirty, the barrage of insults had become too much and I sneaked outside to watch the fireworks. They left me extremely bitter. I stood behind the few people who had paid for the evenings display, and the vast majority stood on the VIP viewing platform and watched the event through their cameras. The connection is thin, but after witnessing this at countless gigs and street performances, I wonder if most people have lost the ability to enjoy a direct live communion. I wonder if the majority have been pacified by television to the point that they cannot function in the outside world without the safety of a screen to look through. I wonder if this is why theatre is more often a spectacle than an engaging pillar of the community.
It may have been seven hours of work without even mention of a break, but the firework display depressed me as much as its audience. The crackles and the booms of each individual explosion were lost behind Robbie Williams crooning, “Let Me Entertain You”, then some Disney theme tune. The biggest cheer of the evening came when the opening bars of “Thriller” accompanied the display. The music obliterated any chance of community or of shared experience. The oohs and aahs were replaced with the cock sure arrogance of pop stars and false idols. The show, to use Jerzy Grotowski‘s term, was, “Artistic Kleptomania” and the music detracted from the incredible visuals as much as the exploding fireworks detracted from the clarity of the music.
It is strange that community builds in the most unpredictable places, and at times when, although you are unaware, you need it most. Having woken up late, I had not eaten all day, and being the average student, I could not afford to eat. As I covered a friend as he took an unofficial break, the man behind the pasty counter offered me a cup of tea. And then, without him even hearing my stomach rumble, he asked me what pasty I wanted, free of charge.
“A steak slice would be unbelievably good right now.”
“Sure.” Said with the shortest of smiles. He had no idea how much he was helping me, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that to get through the last few hours I had been eating sugar out of the packets. So instead, I said this;
“You have no idea how unbelievably grateful I am for this. This is amazing.”
“I was a steward once,” he said. “it was shit.”
He passed me the pasty and I realised that we were all in this together. Every person in this building wearing a shirt and tie formed a community on one simple fact that only we truly knew, because we had to keep this from the public at all costs: We fucking hate this job, but we need the money.
The shift passed a whole lot quicker after eating, and half an hour later than scheduled, I signed out and headed outside the palace. I walked to the station as the bus was packed, and was on the Piccadilly line for twelve o clock. Half an hour behind schedule. Before now, before twelve hours on my feet, I hadn’t realised how comfortable the tube was. There and then in my half full carriage my body was in ecstasy. At each stop I would jerk awake, and after three stops I realised this pattern and let myself drift into slumber, until I had to change, and then alight at waterloo for my train. I missed my train, by about two minutes, and I hung around in the steely dark cage of waterloo for twenty minutes for the next one. My stomach was stabbing at me now, the pasty had been digested hours ago and I knew a shepherds pie, a sofa, and my two best friends and girlfriend were waiting for me just two stops away. I couldn’t afford burger king. I would have killed for a burger king.
Platform 13 flashed up, In my own little world with my noise cancelling headphones I made my way to the train thinking, what’s all this superstition around 13? And ladders? And I thought other half baked thoughts to forget that I was not at home.
Departure was at 1.05, it was 1.00, and I was sat next to the radiator and it was blaring heat directly in my face. It’s okay I thought, ill be home in fifteen minutes.
1.04 came, and a lady sat next to me eating burger king. At this point I was ready to cry, its okay, ill be home in…hmm…..11 minutes!
1.20 came. We hadn’t moved.
1.21. I stood up, excuse me I said, I can’t sit next to this radiator any longer.
1.30. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologise for the delay, there is a signalling failure between Queenstown Road and Clapham Junction, We will update you as soon as we know any more.”
A collective groan filled the carriage, and I took a walk, the smell of burger king was too much, so I walked down the platform, found myself a spot on the floor next to the first class compartment and rested my numb legs.
1.50. I rolled a cigarette. By the time I had smoked this the train would be moving, or at the very least we would have a projected time of departure. The conductor walked past, a gentleman in his late fifties with a heavy dutch accent. A man in a beige leather jacket, (The Jacketed Man) walked after him.
“Mate. Can you fucking tell me what time this train is leaving. People want to know, why aren’t you telling anybody any-fucking-thing.”
“I am sorry, I really am - this is my train home too. I don’t know when it is leaving, I will let you know when I am aware.”
And this was the strange thing, instead of the Jacketed Man kicking off, he placed his arm on the conductors and said, “I’m sorry mate, it’s been a long day and I had a fight with the missus and I just want to get home.”
We were all in this together, it turned out.
I talked to the Jacketed Man, I told him about my shift and he sympathised with me, he said, “fuckin ell you must be knackered”
“Yeah, it’s all right though,” I let him know, “when I get back im just going to sleep through Sunday.”
“I wish I could, I’ve got football.”
“A Match, or training?”
“A match, but its only poncey Sunday league so I might just fuck it off.”
I didn’t know how to reply to this, it would mean a lot to me to play in a Sunday league, and I’m sure it meant a lot to him, otherwise, why would he be fretting? It never amazes me how, (and I am guilty of doing this myself) people find it necessary to impress total strangers: single serving friends.
2.20. We are not in this all together, well, they may be, but I am outside underneath the London Eye looking for a bus. After ten minutes I realise they all finished twenty minutes ago and I run back to the station and on to the train. I can wait.
2.35. As I smoke off the carriage I hear,
“Oi. You can’t smoke that.” I carry on smoking, he isn’t wearing a uniform. He swaggers from his double doors to mine and breathes onto my face, “You can’t smoke that. Unless you have a smoke for me.”
2.40. He seems quite a nice guy, I have to make a weak judgement because I can’t hold a conversation with him, all his energy is focused on standing upright and rolling the cigarette. In his state, a momentous task. I had asked him his name, he replied, I am Turkish, so whether that is his name or not, he will forever be known to me as The Turk.
2.55. The Turk turns out to be not that nice. Less hilariously sarcastic gentleman, more worryingly sodomistic lager lout. “Oi sweetheart,” he croons, quite obviously not at me, “you as lovely legs. You got Facebook? Wanna go, (he raises his hands to his mouth) for a drink some time yeah?”
3.00. Another cigarette, another stranger. This gentleman, as he informed me with delight, was fifty two today, and what a day he had had. He had come from Twickenham, where had had watched the rugby, (and so he will be know as Rugby Man) and had been drinking all day since in central. He was a true gentleman, even when echoing the sentiments of the Turk, which he did accidentally and constantly:
TURK: You as to have Facebook, some pictures of those lovely legs.
LEGGY GIRL: I don’t.
TURK: Am I annoyin you?
LEGGY GIRL: A bit, yes.
TURK: that’s the price you pay, innit. That’s the price you pay for being so sexy, you with me?”
RUGBY MAN: It is true. You do have smashing legs.
The girl smiled. It turns out that on your birthday you really can get away with anything.
3.20. I am off the train, I am quite close to tears and I am considering walking home. I text my flatmates and they have sorted out a route home for me, take the blah blah from blah, change at blah, then change at blah and alight at I have no idea.
3.25. Waiting for bus.
3.40. Fuck this. I sprint back into the station and find that everybody is being shepherded back on the train. I sprint and before the first doors I hear a familiar voice gently heckling, “quickly now everyone, we’re going to move you know.”
I smiled very broadly, and so did the Rugby Man.
“My friend!” He beamed, “Where have you been?”
I explained my moments of doubt and he began to laugh and sway on one foot. I had been on and off my feet for near eighteen hours, and I couldn’t help but smile back. As people piled on the train, The Jacketed Man came on. He smiled,
“I thought you’d abandoned ship…” and he was interrupted by a flurry of blonde,
“You don’t say one fucking word to me.”
“The wife.” he said, “Married life is bliss.”
As if the party was not complete, the final person to stagger on was The Turk, who incredibly was already acquainted with the Rugby Man. A drunken embrace between them and then the doors closed. We talked, of what I have no idea because I was vibrating with relief and then, incredibly, the train started to move.
“Wheeaaay!!” sounded the cheer, not just from myself, The Turk, Rugby Man and The Jacketed Man stood in the doorway, but spontaneously from the entire carriage. When we stopped in Vauxhall we all sang happy birthday to the Rugby Man, every tired soul in the carriage. The Turk followed this by shouting, “speech” repeatedly until Rugby Man stabled himself by leaning on a chair and made his profound statement:
“When I get home, I am going to drink a bottle of wine.”
The cheer that followed this was louder than any before. It woke somebody. Stumbling into the circle created by this story’s protagonists: Enter Tracksuited Youth.
“Fuck me, you look bleary eyed” Said Jacketed Man.
“I’ve been asleep. I was meant to get to waterloo. Are we in Southampton?”
He had slept through it all, he had slept through it all and more. He had been asleep on that train since eleven o clock, and had been to Reading and back unconscious. It wasn’t strange on a night like tonight, it was heroic. Deservedly, Tracksuited Youth got a handshake from each of us in the doorway.
I left, with Tracksuited Youth into Clapham, after smiling broadly goodnight to the carriage and its unique, indescribable atmosphere. Walking the tunnel alone, reality and sobriety dawned on my friend,
“I need to get a night bus to Paddington, ah man, this is one to tell the kids one day!”
I laughed, I told him he was a nut job and then saw that platform 10, at 4.50, there was a train to Victoria.
“You could get a bus from there no problem mate,” I told him.
“I don’t have a ticket, only oyster.”
“Have my ticket.”
“You’re a fuckin hero.” and with that we shook hands and went our separate ways. It didn’t occur to him that he wouldn’t need a ticket, nor to me, giving him the ticket just felt like the most ‘right’ thing I had ever done. It was the weirdest night of my life.
I don’t know who they are, I don’t know their names and within a few days I will forget their faces, but I will never forget that evening. I will never forget the unison that I thought fast paced London life had made impossible. I’ll never forget my single serving community.

Friday 23 October 2009

Geese Theatre UK

I have always been fascinated with the effect Drama and Theatre can have in inciting positive change. It is something that I wish to explore to its full on this course. I can think of nothing more personally gratifying then using theatre to ignite passion for change. Those who have expressed interest in working with Prisoners, Young offenders or excluded children should look at Geese Theatre UK. Their work is incredible, literally exploring the facades and masks the prisoners wear on the outside world and allowing them to become removed from that persona and question why they are in prison.
There is a book in the library and their website is quite dense.



Question/Circus Time

After a week of extravagant build up, last night’s question time failed to fulfil its potential. The political debate was reduced to a circus of hate as audience members whooped and cheered every single put down sent Nick Griffin’s way. Not for one second am I saying I did not enjoy watching this fear mongering, hate filled fool nervously licking his lips and contradicting himself, its just that Question Time is a platform for serious and equal political debate, not a stage on which any man is to mercilessly heckled and attacked from all sides. When we lose control of our emotions, the point which we are debating loses all integrity.
The week leading up to Griffin’s appearance was just as revealing as the debate itself. It is incredible that many opposed to the BNP’s fascism, totalitarianism and far right politics dispute their cause by wishing to deny them the right to appear on the show. Free speech is the foundation for democracy, and as such, even those with extreme views have every right to voice them. No, as Jack Straw commented, they have no place in politics, but personal opinion has to be voiced if the oppression the BNP would enforce is to be avoided under any government.
The frenzied show taught me very little, I already despised Nick Griffin, his party and everything they stand for, and the lack of impartiality from David Dimbleby made me question whether the BBC had a separate agenda that night. As the beat down continued, it seemed Dimbleby had been instructed to ensure that nobody accused the BBC of giving Nick Griffin a free ride.
I could hardly contain the grin on my face when Griffin praised a “non violent KKK leader” and though obviously trying to present a sanitised version of himself and his party, true hatred surged through his blood as he exclaimed Islam to be a “wicked, vicious faith.” He could not answer coherently, he sniggered and laughed uncomfortably as the audience vilified him. His body language was reflective of his parties policies, evasive, inappropriate and completely unfounded. I laughed out loud at the television as Griffin denied quotes that he can be seen saying on you tube. He is shambolic, a wreck, completely unsure of himself and looking desperately for a scapegoat on which to load his vanities, doubts and ignorance. He is the BNP’s perfect leader, a public representation of the fear and ignorance that causes people to tick the far right box on their ballot paper.
One moment of true enlightenment came from an audience member, a question directed at Jack Straw. He asked if Mr Straw believed the current governments lack of immigration policy had fuelled the recent support for the BNP. Jack Straw stumbled with his reply, it was as confused and damaging to Labour as the policy itself. Interestingly, the only question not directly associated with the BNP party concerned a homophobic article published by the Daily Mail. It seems natural to me that fascism, fear mongering, ignorance and the Daily Mail are words said just minutes apart.
This will not go away, no matter how much we attack and vilify the BNP, there will always be a far right minority fuelled by fear and ignorance. I hope, that the floating voters who saw and heard the BNP leader for the first time, though rightly angered by the failings of capitalism and by the country’s steady decline will have seen Nick Griffin as the quivering excuse for a man he truly is. As more people grow angered by the society they live in, the politicians who rape and pillage the system they are meant to uphold and adhere to, they will hopefully have realised that the BNP is not the party to channel their discontent through.



Friday 16 October 2009

I can remember that our december performances may have an element of storytelling in them and the genre is apparently enjoying a revival, meaning there's a few shows we could go see. These shows are usually for pretty intimate audiences, the one is wapping is in a greenhouse for around eighteen guests. we should try to go as groups, if time commitments make it possible. I'll raise the issue in class.

I have the phone number and time out clipping for the wapping event, and also there is this:
shows are £6 and every tuesday at 8.

The Beginning of the Blog

I know its taken far too long, but today I’m posting the first entrance to my blog, because today, finally, I have the internet. Well, that’s my excuse, but the truth is I haven’t had a clue what to write. Its been half an hour since I wrote that sentence, in that time I have taken the rubbish out, washed up, nailed some cable tidies into my wall, re installed itunes and eaten a tuna pasta dish. I’m not really sure why I keep putting this off.
Since the first meeting at Ham House I have been completely devoid of inspiration. The truth is I just have no idea how to entertain children, the passing of my twenty first birthday has left me feeling old, jaded and completely out of touch. In fact, anyone who looks younger than me makes me check for my wallet, phone and keys. So far through university I have concentrated on theatre as an instrument for political change, and I have a hunch that kids won’t be entertained by a detailed analysis of the financial crisis.
While on the credit crunch, last Thursday, I saw the Power of Yes at the National Theatre. I’m not really sure what to say about it, it admits to not being theatre, but at no point does it admit to being very boring. It’s not that the vast amounts of often incomprehensible information thrown at you is boring, (although it can be) but more the fact at no point does the play even attempt to entertain its audience. The plot, if there is one, concentrates on the hows and not the whys, when it’s surely the latter that is important if the failing framework of capitalism is to be remoulded. I wouldn’t recommend this play, not to drama students, nor lovers of David Hare, not even to Bankers. It’s a shame, that arts ability to question society is wasted here, not just by the rudimentary playwriting, but by the fact manifestos for change are wasted upon the audience, a coughing, shuffling and dozing sea of grey hairs.
I am extremely apprehensive about next week, and I know I will be until four am and a brutal hangover provide me with some kind of inspiration, something with which I can contribute to the group.