Hi we thought after 8 weeks of being open in the UK’s first professional shop front theatre that it was time for an update!
First and foremost, the joy of having our own space is fantastic and so liberating. It is the first time in 17 years as a professional outfit that we have had our own creative space, and although we are by no means seasoned venue operators and are learning like crazy as we go along, literally day to day, the joy is still tangible every time we walk into the shop.
What was once a chippie is now very much a theatre space. But it still says ‘chippie’ when you walk in the door!
The most striking aspect is that the shop has no front wall as such, rather it is lined with eight huge windows that look out onto City Arcade and Queen Victoria Road – this provides a fantastic vista to work with, and the hours can pass simply staring out and contemplating the people passing. And they don’t just drift by – the shop has caused a stir, and people stop regularly to read the info we have on the exterior explaining who we are and what we’re doing. It’s a provocation for a city like Coventry, or for any city come to that, that has its theatre heritage mapped out largely in the traditional offer of regional reps or arts centres. We are neither – we’re a shop, but we happen to make theatre there. This is both a fantastic selling point, and also a challenge like no other as we set out to put the shop at the heart of Coventry’s cultural map.
For us, unlike other shops, because we are Arts Council funded and a not for profit organisation, it isn’t about money coming through the door, but about presence, about experience, about access. These are the mantras by which we work. If only ten people come along to begin with then so be it – no need to panic – it’s their experience of the work and the end result that matters – by the time our lease ends here we can then really judge how much closer theatre like this brings you to a public, and opens doors for greater acces. We’re optimistic that the audience figures and general awareness and vibe about the shop will make good reading in 18 months time.
It’s not all about the audience either. It’s also about ART! And it’s about our work and our growth as theatre makers. We asked ourselves the question: how will the limitations and the banal aesthetic of a shop affect/inspire the plays we make? Well in April we’ll start to find out as we produce Breathe 1 – the first installment of five new solo plays for women, written by Chris O’Connell, one of which will premiere every month through to September.
So what have we done in the last eight weeks? Over to Julia Negus, Theatre Absolute’s producer:
December 2009 - Public reading of Car – launch event to open the shop
December 2009 – The Lamplight Readings: ‘A Christmas Carol’ by Charles Dickens, read by John Flitcroft.
January 2010 – The Writing Gym 1 – Three day creative writing workshops for beginners. SOLD OUT.
To come:
February 2010 - The Lamplight Readings: ‘Stig Of The Dump’ by Clive King, read by Richard Oldham
March 2010 – The Writing Gym 2 – returns with another 3 day creative wirting workout.
April 2010 – Breathe 1 – the first of five solo performances.
A few quotes - but also you can click on Facebook via our website and watch some video comments!
"Brilliant idea for the community"
"Great to sit awhile, hear a story and watch the other shoppers bustle about"
"I felt I could write without fear of being judged"
"Really? Its only £3?"
Coverage has been good: Guardian Blog, The Times, The Stage, Hotline - Virgin Trains for the whole of January, BBC local Radio, the Coventry Telegraph have featured our events each time and we are now having our own Shop Front Theatre column bi monthly.
We will collate more info as we go on. And be sure to check in with another set of thoughts sometime soon.
Best wishes and THANK YOU to all who have so far supported the UK's FIRST professional Shop Front Theatre, in Coventry, the West Midlands - please spread the word!!
12/02/10
A read through of ‘Car’ was what opened the week of work experience for me with Theatre Absolute and what an opening it was! It was thrilling, entertaining and very well done.
Working at the shop from Tuesday I really loved the space, the atmosphere and the town centre. Looking out of the shop window you can see people walking by, some carrying shopping others pushing prams. In its own divine way the shop is something very beautiful. Perched on the corner nestled between an off-licence and Argos, for me it really shows how creativity can appear and be appreciated everywhere. It’s places like the ‘shop’ that make a community come alive and bring people together. People only ever walk to get somewhere and stop to buy something, but the shop really catches people’s attention, who other wise may have rushed on by and missed out on the tiny doorway to a place of stories and entertainment.
Chris and Julia have been amazing to work with and I’ve enjoyed every moment. I’ll always remember them my time at the shop, in the production week of Christmas Carol. Thank you love Rebecca x
17/12/09
I am a student from Macau. My aspiration is arts administration. I had my work placement at
Theatre Absolute for nearly three months this year. I was very happy
to be able to work at the company, as I was very impressed with the
high quality of Zero. I really enjoyed my work placement at Theatre
Absolute. It gave me a lot of work experience. The company’s goal to
produce new writing really impressed me as well, especially when I
attended the script reading of their new production, Breathe. I not only gained
a lot of understanding of how a professional theatre company runs, but
also attained stronger administration skills by working at the busy office of Theatre
Absolute. I am really grateful that I had the opportunity to work
at Theatre Absolute. I am also looking forward to their new
production, and am sure it will be fantastic.
20/09/09
My name is Conor. I’ve just finished only a week’s placement with Theatre Absolute but in that week I’ve learnt a lot from Chris and Julia about performing, casting, reviewing, budgeting and how to make coffee out of a café tier. Since I was a child I’ve wanted to be involved in performing arts, be in Academy Award winning films, perform on the West End etc. But I realise now those dreams are a mile away from what I’m really going to achieve. In working with Theatre Absolute I’ve worked with a brilliant writer an producer in Chris O’Connell and Julia Negus and hopefully my experience of working with them for a week will fulfil my life’s ambitions. I’ve only had a week with Theatre Absolute, which is half the time that the other work experience students spent but I feel like I’ve learnt just as much. I’ve budgeted, cast and produced my own pretend play, the casting was done using the Spotlight interactive website, I’ve wrote e-mails, met other company leaders and got other useful tips on the arts and running a company, packaged brochures that’ll go out to every school in Coventry, sat in on meetings, done important tasks for those meetings, many things that’ll further my knowledge in not just performing arts but also how a company like Theatre Absolute works behind the scenes in the world of ADMIN, filing and so on. I’d like to thank Chris and Julia very much for taking me on work experience and wishing them the best of luck in future projects.
Thanks again
Conor
15/05/09
My name is Liz, I go to a secondary school in Coventry. I have just finished a work placement with Julia and Chris at Theatre Absolute. I have always loved to sing and dance from a young age. My dream is to play Elphaba in the West End production of ‘Wicked’ but I have realised it is going to be hard to get there and not very realistic so I wanted to find another way of getting into performing arts and running a theatre company.
During my week at Theatre Absolute I had to phone every secondary school in Coventry to find out the Head Teachers name and the Head of Drama’s name so when the Theatre Absolute brochures came in they could be sent to every school. I also phoned University’s, Colleges and Performing Arts Schools. I then had to type up the labels and put them onto the envelopes. Julia guided me through this and basically told me what to do and where to get the contact numbers. I also read 2 of Chris’s Plays that took a morning each and wrote a report on them, explaining what it was about, the characters behaviours and how I would stage it. Then on Thursday morning I sat with Chris and read him my report then we discussed each point and he explained to me how he got his ideas and why he wrote it the way he did. Because I did my placement with my friend Lauren we then read through a scene of ‘Kid’ and put some drama to it, Chris directed us and told us how to act it and what the underlying message was. This was very interesting as I was working with the play writer, he had in his head how he wanted it performed and Lauren and I had to make that come to life.
I have really enjoyed my week at Theatre Absolute, it has made me realise performing arts is not just about being able to act, you have to be able to run a company or write plays. I have had to adapt to a working environment and it has shown me how it is different to school. I have gained social and organisation skills, these might not come useful in theatre but I can use them later on in life. Julia and Chris were very welcoming and helpful. I would like to one-day maybe perform in one of Chris’s plays. It was a great experience that I will not forget. I would like the thank Julia and Chris for letting me be a part of Theatre Absolute for a week.
Liz
**
My name’s Lauren, I attend a school in Coventry I’ve just finished a one week work placement at Theatre Absolute with Julia and Chris. I’ve always loved to act, sing and dance, but never knew how much work had to be put into one performance! I didn’t really know what to expect when I came to Theatre Absolute as they weren’t in the process of rehearsals or staging a show. From my work experience I wanted to find out how a Theatre Company was run and what had to be done to get a performance on stage.
I had varied jobs to do in the work placement. I had to phone up schools in Coventry to find out the head teacher and head of drama, this was so I could write labels to put onto the new company brochure, so everyone would know about Theatre Absolute. I also emailed people to find out things Julia needed to know. I went on the spotlight website to find out about actors working with Theatre Absolute and put together profiles for each of them. I also read two of the three plays in ‘Street Trilogy’, one of Chris’s previous plays. I wrote a report on these and then got the opportunity to talk about them with Chris. I learnt a lot from this as he talked about how he gets his idea’s for a play, how he goes about writing one, and why he writes the way does. We then got the chance to go through one of the scenes from ‘Kid’ with Chris, and act how we think we would stage it. This was really interesting as I learnt what it would be like in professional rehearsals. I thoroughly enjoyed doing this as we were then directed by Chris, and as he wrote the play he knew what he wanted, so we had to make it real.
I really enjoyed my time at Theatre Absolute and learnt more than I expected. This work placement has made me think about not just what the final performance of a play looks like, but how much work, effort and time has to be put into it before it is staged. I’ve had to adapt to a being in a working environment, rather than school, and this had made me improve my social and organisation skills. Chris and Julia were both very welcoming and helped me through every task I was set. This has definitely been an experience that will help me later In life. I’d like to thank Theatre Absolute for everything they’ve done and helped me with, I’ll never forget it.
Lauren
03/04/09
My name is Lydia, I’m 15 and I go to a secondary school in Coventry. I have just done two weeks work placement with Chris and Julia at Theatre Absolute. From a really young age I loved dance and drama, and it’s has always been a dream to follow that throughout my life. I realise however, being in the West End, or touring with Chicago, may not happen, and so I want to find a way I can incorporate my love for the Performing Arts into my future career a different way. From my work experience I wanted to gain experience of what running your own independent Theatre Company was like, and how it all works.
My Dad being an actor, and I performing myself gave me a good head start for what to expect at Theatre Absolute. However the Theatre Absolute Company had just finished their last performance of Zero. This meant they were in the process of clearing everything up, and preparing something new.
Therefore I had a really varied experience ranging from practical work such as, emails, filing, organising board meetings, attending meetings, and writing formal letters. Also, Julia and Chris made sure I got the opportunity to do exercises to show what it would be like in production time. I was given three different scripts, one of them Chris’s and the others from different writers. I took a whole day to read them all and then I wrote reports on each of them. I thoroughly enjoyed reading them, and the next day Chris helped me review them, he also spoke to me about how he had written his plays, and it was very interesting and I learnt a lot from this. I also had a session with Julia, where we pretended we were going to produce a play, I got to cast it, using Spotlight’s interactive website, then budget the whole play with Julia’s help. My budget was very high, but Julia showed me how to knock it down to a suitable cost!
I’ve really enjoyed my experience with Theatre Absolute, and learnt more than I first imagined. It has inspired me to perhaps write when I’m older, something I had not considered before and showed me the realism of putting on plays and performing. I have also had the experience of adapting to a working environment, boosting my social skills and giving me skills such as organisation, writing and budgeting, skills that don’t just relate to a Theatre Company, but skills I can use in later life. Chris and Julia have been extremely welcoming and helpful. This has been a wonderful experience that I will not forget and I thank Theatre Absolute very much for giving it to me.
29/01/09
It’s Monday and I’ve got a busy, exciting week coming up with Theatre Absolute:
It’s the climax of my fantastically satisfying residency with the company – and on Thursday Chris and Julia are hosting a showcase reading of my work at the Tristan Bates Theatre. The plays we’re presenting pre-exist my residency but are now being given the Theatre Absolute treatment! Three of the cast from ‘Zero’ will be reading ‘I Know Where the Mangrove Grows’ and Lindsay Duncan will read ‘The End of What?’.
The cast of ‘Zero’ are a really impressive bunch and I’m so sorry that I can’t have the benefit of working with all of them! But I’m extremely fortunate that the three cast for the Mangrove play are just ideal. Chris O’Connell is directing – and we’ve got rehearsal time on Thursday – so it will be a real pleasure to get stuck in to working with everybody after a few months of observing from the sidelines.
The Lindsay Duncan casting is something that’s been bubbling away for well over a year. Lindsay’s just finished filming for her title role in BBC’s upcoming ‘Thatcher’ drama, so the timing is excellent. I contacted Lindsay as a punt ages ago because, apart from being a great actress, she’s just so ideal for the piece. I think it says a lot about her that she’s willing to help a fledgling writer like me.
And then on Wednesday, perhaps most importantly of all, Chris is directing a workshop reading of my new play, ‘Baby Face’. I’ve been developing this work as part of my residency – working in ways that have been quite different for me. And now I’m going to be working with actors at an early stage of the text’s development – a new experience for me and, challenging as it may be, I feel sure it will give the next stage of writing real momentum.
So quite a week! I don’t have a great deal of experience working with actors and directors so, perhaps unsurprisingly, I’m feeling some match-week nerves. But I’ve got a strategy to get me through ... it’s the work; it’s what I’ve written. I believe in it. I have confidence in it. I know it’s the only thing that matters. And that prosaic, cooling thought really helps.
25/11/08
During the tour of Zero we played at the Citizens Theatre in Glasgow, and spent a morning working with drama students at Reid Kerr College, in Paisley. They came to see the show in the evening. Here is a review of Zero from Jack Hirst, one of the students...
Well it’s Zero… “Isn’t it?”
Review by Jack Hirst
(Written on behalf of Reid Kerr College NC Acting)
“ZERO”
CHRIS O’CONNELL
CITEZEN’S THEATRE
NOVEMBER 6
*****
You enter a room, actors patrolling the stage, and an atmosphere fit for a knife. You have just entered the unforgiving gates of “Camp Zero”, with a ticket to a chilling drama that takes a wild riotous world-view, and reflects on what the war on terrorism could have become. Set in a future detention prison camp, inmates; also know as “the others” are callously interrogated for truth, through which an unlikely bond is formed between interpreter Alex (Stephen Hudson), and newly located soldier, Tom (Daniel Hoffmann-Gill).
Alex witnesses how the “others” are tortured, and in one case involves Helen’s (Kate Ambler) used bloody tampon and The Major (Adeel Akhtar) turns a blind eye, and Alex decides to speak out, but can’t find the words. With this he decides he wants to write a book, (which he keeps a clutch between his forceful fingers throughout the play), about the awful conditions that have been hidden from the world eyes. About three quarters into the drama Demissie, (Damian Lynch), thought to have committed suicide, was silenced for good and became another victim of the camp. On the run from the Global Alliance, Tom is brutally shot dead. But in the end, the audience find out, much too there surprise, unlike the camps cold murky prison cells, the pages of Alex’s book are empty.
O’Connell’s “Zero” provokes thoughts within the minds of audience members of non-fictional methods of torture: not over played in anyway, which is all thanks to the second-to-none directing skills of the director, Matt Aston. O'Connell's use of language is striking including dominant moments when the “others” get their non-rights rights read to them. Creating Tom’s character, played by Daniel Hoffmann-Gill, the ice-breaker, is genius. He brings comic relief, which brings the spirits of the audience up after a dampening moment within the play and he represents the public’s contentment and lack of knowledge to the situation. The best of him is drawn out by Stephen Hudson, who strives for peak acting from everyone! This is a creditable input to the controversy of the governments' response to terrorism, and poses a point that we should pay thought to what is being decided by our government and what is happening around the world. During the show, Alex and Tom get the chance to do a video log. When they start talking to the camera, one of the staff working at the camp censored what all the lads have to say. This refers to how most of the world only gets the positive news about what is happening.
The brutality of the situation is hidden because the torture techniques are so horrendous. A demonstration, of how the prisoners are tortured, takes place a bit into the play. Tom gets hung upside- down and is beaten by Helen. But Helen takes the demonstration to a new level, when she looses the rag and beats Tom to an inch of his life. This is due to the constant intense atmosphere, the pressure all the wardens are put under by their superiors and the insane rush of power that runs through Helen’s blood. The staff at the camp are forced to have this mind-set towards the “others”, even is they disagree. O’Connell, referring to reality, tells his audiences that even the soldiers are not always told the whole story: so they beat the prisoners recklessly and mindlessly. In some extreme cases, insanity may kick in and escalate to epic proportions- physical violence and verbal abuse.
The play is set in a torture camp, “Camp Zero”, but is not namely located. The staging is very versatile. Made up of scaffolding, the set is made to look like inside the walls of Camp Zero. In one corner of the stage is a skeleton of one of the cold and murky cells, with a winch hanging at the top- this is where the demonstration takes place and Demissie is kept. At the other side of the stage is a door-like structure, with a light shining straight down, which represents a metal detector, as seen in airports. The lighting changes, from just a normal bright wash, to a single blue spot, when Tom and Alex are talking to the camera for their video log diary.
Alex carries around a package, made up from bin bags, taped up with brown parcel tape. He does not let it out of his sight and claims that it’s the book that he has written, during his stay at Camp Zero, the book that could potentially speak the truth and free inmates. This book pulls Tom and Alex apart because of pure frustration. Tom finally finds out the truth of Alex’s package, when Alex rips it open and reveals the empty pages. The package symbolises the hope, justice and truth to come, but sadly never gets out.
To conclude: Zero is breath-taking piece of theatre, which suttelly educates an audience as to what may happen and what does happen in war today. O’Connell touches the hearts of many and speaks a story through the voices of a cast of five, very talented and very well trained actors. It’s a piece which has been chosen at the right time, in a time where war is very prominent news and where terrorism is known by many. Chris does not preach, just tells it how it really is, even if it hurts. And hopefully the gates to Camp Zero will be open to another Glasgow audience.
25/11/08
During the making of ZERO, we were also able to offer a placement to a Year 10 pupil from Coventry, who although is interested in the performing arts, has a particular passion for all things technical! We were able to offer work experience whilst we were in production week at Warwick Arts Centre, Coventry with the creative team and cast - many thanks to all of the team who took time out of a hectic week to chat and offer support during the placement. Here are some words from the aspiring technician to be!
"I had a wonderful time on my placement with Theatre Absolute while they were preparing and running technical rehearsals for their new production Zero. I spent three days at Warwick Arts Centre, Coventry with the production team. I got a chance to meet and talk with the writer Chris O'Connell and I got to ask him what certain things meant if I didn't understand them and I feel I understand the play a lot more now after spending those three days at the Warwick Arts Centre. I also met the Director, Stage Manager, Lighting Designer, Soundscape Composer and the rest of production team. As well as getting to see what goes on back stage, I got to meet and talk with the cast of Zero. And I just have to say a big Thank You to Theatre Absolute for giving me the opportunity to learn about what goes on back stage of a professional play."
21/10/08
During ZERO we have been working with students from Cardinal Newman School, here in Coventry, as part of our in house apprenticeship scheme that specifically focusses on independent theatre making. The students have been present at various points of the creative process and were our guests at the premiere of ZERO on Tuesday 30th September at Warwick Arts Centre. Here are some of their comments about the play.
“The play was a brilliant experience and really intense. The audience, including me, were really drawn in. The play had a great structure as it moved through time.”
“The play was a really exciting experience. It showed me the different ways of portraying character as I had not imagined Tom and Syrah to be played the way they were at all. My GCSE performance will be really helped by watching the performance mainly due to the interesting structure and the power shifts between characters.”
“Even though over the past few weeks I went along to rehearsals for Zero the play still contained some surprises. I was particularly impressed with the structure and how all the scenes fitted together.”
“Reading the play told me that it would be good, however I was interested in seeing how they staged the play. I thought the small performance space worked really well and made the whole piece seem more claustrophobic.”
“I thought the play was well staged and really intense, making it really draw the audience in. Although there were some amusing moments – particularly with Tom – a very serious subject was handled with sensitivity”
"Originally I thought Zero was going to be controversial and fast paced. After watching it I thought it was powerful and the flashbacks and dream sequences with Alex and Demissie were really affecting”
“Zero was a really influential and powerful piece of drama that stayed with me long after the performance. The concept of censorship was so strong that it has heavily affected my GCSE drama performance.”
“I enjoyed the play Zero because of the way the actors portrayed the script, particularly the slow but increasing insanity of Alex. The actor playing Tom was also good because he was able to move from anger to being fine within moments as the time shifted around.”
It has been great to receive the above comments and as part of the apprenticeship scheme the students will now perform their own responses to their experience of ZERO at the end of October...we can't wait!!
06/10/08
Three weeks into rehearsals for ‘Zero’, and three weeks into my Arts Council funded writer-in-residence with Theatre Absolute. It’s a three month project providing me with writing time but also the opportunity to build on my relationship with the company. It’s been designed to take place during this very exciting production period, so that I can be part of Theatre Absolute’s work, yet free to develop my writing.
I suppose there’s a risk that I could feel outside of all the activity. So in my first week I stuck close to the action – observing rehearsals and getting to know everyone involved. I was made to feel extremely welcome – and important too - because I get the impression that having a writer-in-residence is an exciting new development for the company. And apart from rehearsals, and the time spent in pubs with actors, I explored Coventry – with an eye for little bolt-holes where I can park up with my lap-top.
Since then I’ve popped into rehearsals from time to time – giving me a kind of stop-motion insight into the play’s development during the rehearsal period. However, for most of my time I’ve been gradually working on some different approaches to my writing. It’s a rare luxury afforded me by this wonderful residency time – and Chris and Julia’s encouragement to try new things.
It’s mainly involved a different approach – so that in the beginnings of my play idea, in the rough early stages, I’m exploring the worlds of my fledgling characters. And as I do this I can feel my interest in them expanding. New depths and possibilities emerge. That’s very exciting. And it’s not the kind of development I would normally do. I’ve been creating items extraneous to the play world that could belong to, or even be made by, the characters themselves. I’ve actually been doing some painting. I’ve been writing in prose. I’m getting quite carried away – last week I went into Debenhams and tried to find the perfume that one of my characters might use.
I suppose I’m just having fun. My girlfriend said I should use the time to be playful – and I don’t want to stop. Because it’s reminded me that playing is what matters. It’s taken me back to why I started writing in the first place. Without this, I know I wouldn’t bother. I’d be selling shoes.
23/09/08
ZERO continues the dominant themes of Theatre Absolute’s previous work, placing ordinary people in extraordinary situations. It is a play made up of twin obsessions: the pulverisng grip of capitalism and its effect on the individual; and the onset of conscience, a time when a person is gripped and disturbed and unsettled by events around them, a time when one’s inner voice won’t be stilled, insisting that YOU as a citizen of the world should care, should act.
I am still chilled by memories of the TV footage from 1989 showing tanks moving across Tiananmen square, and the brave unknown rebel who stood in front of the tanks and refused to move. In Zero, the character of Alex is in some way constructed from visions of that lone soul in that empty space, doing his stuff against forces so much bigger, stronger, and deadly. To me that Chinese man is a defining vision of resistance - the insistence that the territory of one’s mind and soul will not be tampered with. Of course, resistance dies if the baton isn’t handed on, which is where Alex ends the play, babbling on his mobile to an unseen wife who has been given an incredible task.
There is also the element of torture. Are those who are responsible for torture in Zero, also acting from conscience? Information is needed, obsessions grow, and whatever means are necessary can be justified. But Syrah isn’t a thug, she doesn’t look like a monster, she is educated, and believes that morally she is sworn to act for the sake of her unborn child. It’s a compelling standpoint. Conscience can cut both ways. It’s a reminder that to ask a bloodthirsty world to listen to its conscience won’t necessarily save it from further brutalities.
And if conscience isn’t hard enough, where is it all heading? This ‘money’ thing. This system that has outlived communism, socialism and all the other ‘isms’.
ZERO takes place in a camp where ‘terrorists’ are interrogated and tortured in order to gain information about who finances and arms them. But I was keen that ZERO isn’t seen as a Guantanamo Bay play, or a play about Iraq, or Afghanistan. These will be clear references for any audience member, but the play is set twenty years in the future and the stakes for the characters are different; they are pitched beyond struggles as currently tangible to us as religious ideology, or regime change.
In ZERO, the audience are thrown into a nightmare world in which the relentless pursuit of profit, and the politics of envy sit centre stage. I wanted to write a play that imagines the next crisis that we as a human race will stumble into, (although it feels like it’s already there rubbing its hands in anticipation). But we choose to ignore it. No one wants to debate the downside of capitalism because there are so many benefits, yet it is slowly ripping the heart out of us, and reducing us to savages.
If people are angry now in 2008 at British Petroleum making 16 billion dollars annual profit, if we are angry at soaring food prices, if we feel stretched now by taxes and the price of utiltiies, ZERO asks the audience to imagine a world 20, 30 years from now when the world’s assets have been stripped beyond recognition, and the pockets of the rich lined ever deeper. How will people feel, and how will they act?
ZERO is clearly heightened. All of my plays live in ‘what if worlds’; they are dark and blatantly intense. But I think they always feel real. The future may prove ZERO to be inaccurate or unfounded, but as a play ZERO is a guttural airing of modern day fears, shared not only by myself as a writer, but by every day ordinary people, the wisest most unaffected sort, who can often sense something in the air long before it arrives.
Chris O'Connell
July 2008
29/07/08
Really looking forward to the start of ZERO rehearsals. It's our first project since Hang Lenny Pope, in 2007. Co-producing with Warwick Arts Centre is always a joy and for a company of our size with such tight resources, the relationship with a co-producer is key to realising and sustaining an artistic policy.
Matt Aston is directing ZERO - it's the first time we've worked with him, but as was the case back in 1999 when we first worked wth Mark Babych, the prospect of a new creative pulse influencing and challenging the company fills us with both excitement and anticipation.
We're all cast bar one part and due for two away days in Bamburgh, near Newcastle, to have a last look at the script before generating a rehearsal draft.
04/07/08
In June, Chris O'Connell and Andy Garbi spent two weeks in workshop with five actresses developing the script of Forgiven. Chris originally wrote five monologues, loosely based on the premise of forgiveness and injustice. He merged the monologues and created a narrative web that was heavily fragmented, and rhythmic. Alongside this was a symphony of sound, composed by Andy Garbi, that imported devices from film into the theatre space, and was highly emotive in providing breakpoints for actors' trigger points.
The two weeks proved that strong support from funding bodies such as Arts Council England, who funded this project, offers artists a fantastic arena in which to experiment and push the boundaries. Andy and Chris revelled in the idea of 'no pressure'. Nothing had to be shown or proven, all was up for grabs and they worked with a spirit of endeavour that is at the heart of all art.
Forgiven is by no means finished! There is work to be done, and Chris and Andy hope to return to the development of the play later in the year.
23/08/07
So another show, another great time and goodbye to lots of new friends. Some friends we made friends with before, others are new friends, destined to be friends who are thought of as old friends as the years go by!
Thanks to all involved in the creation and touring of HLP, from rehearsal room to the final get out. You are all such total professionals and it was dream to work for you!
HLP played a great last show at the Tobacco Factory in Bristol on 5th May, accompanied by the boozy cheers of a horde of Bristol City fans, celebrating their team's promotion in a pub garden behind the theatre.
We like to think the sheer weight of the emotion on the stage drowned them out, because by the end we'd forgotten they were there.
And so to new work. See our News page for upcoming mumblings, and if you didn't see Hang Lenny Pope be sure to buy it, the script is published, alongside the cloud:burst script, by Oberon, (also see News page for details of how to buy). It can also be purchased direct from Theatre Absolute if you make contact with the company via our Contact Us page.
Please do your darndest to catch our new show when it emerges some time in Spring 2008.
10/05/07
Amazing to read an article about the novelist Jodie Picoult last weekend, in which she discussed her latest book which is about a Columbine type massacre, in a US university. She was saying how people told her the book was controversial and wouldn't sell - that it was too close still to Columbine. Her retort in the main was that the book had to be written because college shootings and gun crime per se is a conversation America refuses to have with itself. The article feels frighteningly prescient bearing in mind Monday's events at Virginia Tech University.
18/04/07
I think my Writing House workshops came just in the nick of time. I’d been working on Hundreds and Thousands for two years already, and – if I’m honest – time was taking its toll and I was starting to get the inevitable 'bit-fed-up-with-it' feeling. I wanted to push the play to a final draft – to be able to say I’d ‘finished’ it - but I wasn’t totally enthusiastic about the prospect of redrafting.
But then - like the literary equivalent of a romantic mini-break with someone you’re thinking of dumping – three days of Writing House workshopping completely re-ignited my passion for the play.
It was brilliant, for a start, just to hear actors read Hundreds and Thousands aloud – experiencing it outside my own head for the first time was completely invaluable. For our initial read-through, Lisa (the Director) and me asked the company to read it cold, without knowing the ending. Pausing, at the end of each scene, to ask them about their characters and the set-up, helped me to see how much of the story and backstory I’d communicated effectively. It was really interesting, too, to hear what first impressions each actor had of their character, and to see how these impressions changed as they progressed through the story.
Improvisation, based on the play, was also dead useful in working out whether I’d pitched the tone of certain scenes appropriately. There’s a few moments in Hundreds and Thousands where the authenticity of characters’ reactions, to extreme situations, are really important. Being able to watch actors improvise these moments was a real luxury; and helped me understand - more clearly than I could on my own - what was really needed from these scenes. And some character ‘hot-seating’– as old an exercise as this is – was great for sparking off new character ideas and developing detail.
Having to answer questions about the story, and talk through the original premise behind it, reminded me what I wanted to say with this play, and how much I wanted to say it. And it was reassuring to find that, for several of the actors, they’d heard the messages and ideas that I hoped the audience would. Getting these reactions, in the workshop, gave me a mini-version of the buzz that comes with watching your work in front of a full, live audience. And it’s that buzz – together with all the decisions that the whole Writing House experience helped me reach – that’s fuelling my final draft now.
16/04/07
Just returned from my final ‘Fifty’ workshop day. Over the last year I’ve recorded my experiences of these workshops and now they’ve come to an end. I’m really going to miss my fellow writers – meeting up every few months to share our lot. In this respect I’m a bit of a stuck record because I think I’ve mentioned this aspect of the experience in almost every posting on this site – only because, for me, it’s been the most rewarding part.
Though the scheme has now ended it’s continuing for me in one respect. Part of the scheme gave all fifty of us access to certain pitching opportunities. I was successful in one of these – my pitch for a returning TV series aimed at the 16 to 35 age bracket.
The TV audience are shrinking for this age group – a fact that seems to send TV land into hysterical panic. I’ve had a longstanding idea for a TV series and this seemed like an ideal opportunity to place it. I hadn’t initially considered my idea for specifically this audience but when I thought about the content I realised the audience couldn’t be anything but this age bracket.
So from my pitch I was commissioned to write a treatment. I found it a fascinating exercise. As a playwright I’ve been learning my craft and feel like I know what I’m doing. I have experiences to draw on. But this was something new and it was a real challenge aligning the demands of the treatment to the heart of my idea. Right now I’m waiting for a response – waiting to hear what, if any, the next step might be.
In the meantime I’m back to redrafting my latest play – more familiar territory. Like the TV idea, it’s an idea I care about. I feel that sense of excitement. The Fifty scheme may be finished – but the writing goes on.
02/03/07
Scroll down and you’ll find earlier accounts of my experiences on a year long Royal Court/BBC scheme called ‘The Fifty’. As part of this scheme fifty writers were nominated by fifty theatre companies (I was nominated by Theatre Absolute) – we’ve received a bursary, industry mentoring, masterclasses, and pitching opportunities across theatre, TV and radio. The programme is about half way through now and has continued to be a valuable source of both support and guidance.
I’ve recently been following the comments on the Guardian’s theatre blog page – responding to Lyn Gardner’s October 30th article, ‘Where are all the good new playwrights?’. (http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/theatre/2006/10/from_page_to_stage.html) In the article the Guardian critic charts the growing culture of new writing schemes and questions whether they have help to produce or nurture significant new writing. From the comments her article has attracted, you can see the idea touches a nerve.
Like many emerging writers I’ve experienced my fair share of new writing schemes. At their best they are of mutual benefit to both writer and organiser. For the writer they can offer increased opportunity to develop both themselves and their work. For the organisation, they can be a vital in developing new talent, and can provide a useful public/fundraising face. Less helpful to the writer are those schemes for which only the latter appears to be true.
But whatever the relative merits are of the different schemes, the reality is that they feature large on the new writing scene. As a writer, I think I have to take advantage of the possibilities they present but also learn to survive them. What are the survival skills? I’m sure everyone must find their own and I’m still trying to find mine – but I’m increasingly feeling that it’s about always prioritising my life as a writer. It’s about safeguarding the rough, imperfect process of what goes on in my head and what comes out on the page.
And so when it comes to participating in schemes, to developing pieces of work here and there for the latest prize or scheme, I don’t feel I should blindly sign up for everything. There are a lot of questions worth asking first. Who’s involved? What’s the process? Where will the investment of time and energy take me? It’s about prioritising and nurturing the very personal process of being a writer. If a new writing scheme has the potential to do that, at least in part, then I think it’s an opportunity worth taking. If it can’t, it’s nothing more than a distraction. And that’s something I don’t need any help with.
29/01/07
You might recall an earlier installment mentioning a writer seeded by Theatre Absolute called Louise Ramsden, and her planned trip to various writer's retreats throughout Europe this summer. Well here is Lou's summary, of what sounds like a fantastic trip.
"I did wonder if we were doing the right thing.
I’d had to pack in my job at the National Theatre to do this. We’d said goodbye to all our mates, knowing there’s be no opportunity for beers for months. And, with our room at home packed up and rented out to a stranger, there was going to be no coming back.
On 1st April me and my partner Ali loaded our lives into a Nissan Micra and drove it all the way down through France, to start a sort of mini-tour of European writers’ retreats. And as we set off I have to admit feeling – as well as excited – apprehensive. I’m a natural worrier, and I found plenty to worry about. Would each retreat we’d booked to stay in live up to our expectations? How was I going to feel inspired to write every single day? Would we go slowly mad with no phone, TV, email, or friends for three months? And how long would it be before the car died? As a born pessimistic, I did wonder - what would go wrong first?
When we reached our first retreat – La Muse, near Carcassone (www.lamuseinn.com) - I have to admit the views distracted me from the worries just a bit. As soon as we got out the car and saw the landscape around the village of Labastide-Esparbairenque our jaws hit the tarmac. ‘Awesome’ was a word that some of the American artists we’d meet over the following three months used a lot. But this was the dictionary definition of it.
Huge tree-covered mountains, rolling down into wide valleys - the kind of landscape that you can photograph endlessly without ever really being able to capture how stunning it all is. And the silence…after two long days driving down through France listening to endless Bonnie Tyler hits (yes, during the drive me and Ali let our fetish for 80s cheese expand into something bordering on the unhealthy) - the silence was incredible.
Our room inside La Muse – a huge, rambling, 17th century farmhouse - was just as amazing. We had our own private study, a bedroom, and gorgeous bathroom, all with windows looking out across the valley. We shared a kitchen, library, and garden with the other residents – seven in all, from Canada, the US, and Hungary - all writers.
The owners of La Muse, Kerry and John, were based in Brooklyn, but took a keen interest in what their guests were up to. The general guidelines of the house were pinned up in each room – including a breakdown of the hours of work that each day should include. The schedule suggested for artists ran something like : 9 – 1, work; 1 – 2, lunch; 2 – 6, work. The guests’ attitude towards this schedule was kind of mixed. There were one or two who didn’t like the idea of being instructed when to have inspiration. But others who found the time framework helpful. I think I hovered somewhere between the two, going through mornings when I found the prospect of a structure for the day ahead quite useful, to mornings when I resented it slightly. Either way, I think it was useful to have a few hours every day when everyone expected everyone else to be working, and people were quiet for each other.
We were entirely self-catered, so our days off were mostly spent driving into Carcassone to pick up food, and to check our emails in a little internet caff called Rouge Alert.
The only regulars who weren’t chain-smoking teenagers or war-gaming enthusiasts, we sat in Rouge Alert for a couple of hours a week using the WiFi (‘wiffy’ in French) on my computer to keep vaguely in touch with the world. And as rushed and inadequate as our emails home felt at the time, we both agreed later that the absence of internetl or mobile reception in our house was one of the biggest factors in allowing us – encouraging us – to write. Because as much as I’d like to think that I can discipline myself when it comes to using the web at home, I can’t. If there’s the option of internetting on the same computer I’m using to rewrite that particularly difficult scene, I’m more likely to be found ebaying or checking my Hotmail (again) than thinking my way around that nasty sticky-out bit of exposition. And I think the same goes for Ali, for whom the BBC football website has an evil lure. So suddenly finding ourselves in a working space without the internet and without a phone (there was a call box over the road, but no mobile reception in the house), was a godsend in terms of creativity.
And, in the month at La Muse, we didn’t half create. It turned out I needed have worried about lack of inspiration. Maybe it was having so few distractions, maybe the awesome environment, maybe the opening of the artistic floodgates after the last few months of working and planning hard. Going running over the mountains in the morning – a real struggle at first, but essential in combating the goats’-cheese-filled spare tyres we were steadily cultivating – was also helpful in making us feel refreshed enough for scribbling. By the end of April, as we packed for Italy, we were fitter, very well-fed, and two-plays heavier.
Our Italian retreat, called A Retreat With A View, (www.aretreatwithaview.com) was in another little village – Baiardo, near San Remo. Literally on top of a mountain - in a part of the village you could only access by walking up almost-vertical cobbled alleyways - our home there was a totally different set-up from La Muse. We had our own separate house, all to ourselves. The street was rubbley and ramshacked, but our pad had been beautifully done up by Arrigo, the owner, who also managed six or seven more properties in the same little area. Unlike La Muse, the house was usually let as holiday accommodation, but, in our case, Arrigo had taken pity on poor artists and given us a discount for staying the whole month.
Our neighbours were few and far between. An American chap called Michael - who editied encyclopedias - and a Turkish girl called Zenap lived a couple of doors down, helping to oversee the management of the houses for Arrigo. And then there was Max - who, in between doing maintenance jobs on Arrigo’s houses, brewed his own grappa (a bit on the strong side).
If we’d thought that the views in Labastide were amazing….they weren’t a patch on what Baiardo had to offer. We were so high up (1km above sea level) the birds flew underneath our balcony. And, despite my initial worries about the car, it never broke down once during our weekly trips down the mountain to San Remo, ferrying us back up 45 mins of hairpin bends every time to reach those views. The journey was usually nauseating but always rewarding. From one of our shared terraces, you could see a whole range of hills laid out underneath, all rising and falling below our village, with only the iced snow-topped mountains above us. And the ancient ruined church next door to our house appealed to our Romantic tendencies too.
But writing…well, it slowed down a bit in Italy. Maybe it was inevitable, that the initial splurge of creativity wouldn’t go on forever. Or maybe it was a combination of that and other things. In the first half of May, the European Spring carried on being quite unusually damp and cold – and as our stone house had no central heating, it got really chilly sometimes. There were days when it felt like trying to write in a three-storey wine cellar, and the temperature got distracting. Having packed in a fit of we’re-going-round-the-Med optimism, I’d brought hardly anything made of wool, so ended up piling on tons of layers. And it can get a bit difficult to lift your arms to type when you’re smothered by two cardigans, a jumper and a coat.
Our motivation picked up loads, though, when we had two other writer friends from London to stay with us. They came with a determination to make real use of the peace and quiet and, as in La Muse, knowing other people were working away in the next room encouraged me to stop procrastinating and get on with things too. I finished a second draft of the play I started for Theatre Absolute, Hundreds and Thousands. By the time our friends left, we were getting ready to head to Can Serrat, our Spanish retreat, for June.
Can Serrat, near Barcelona (www.canserrat.org), was really the place to blame for setting the ball rolling on our retreat plans. Because the previous summer, we’d both been awarded a support stipend there – an offer of a place at the centre at a significantly subsidised rate. And after we’d made the decision to go there together in June….well, then we started wondering whether one month away was enough. Neither of us had ever done the travelling thing, and the chance to experience a bit of Europe whilst fitting in some quality writing time was all too tempting.
We then spent a month or so researching possible places – mostly through the wondrous power of Google. We also found a couple of sites that operate as really useful links pages for writers’ and artists’ retreats around the world. One was the slightly-strangely-Celtic-looking ‘Creative Cauldron’ (http://www.creativecauldron.com/retreats.shtml), which lists a lot of retreats around the US and Europe. There’s also a very useful site called Resartis (http://www.resartis.org/), which has a good search facility, and an area of its site which lists upcoming deadlines for Stipends of the kind we’d been awarded at Can Serrat.
Like La Muse, Can Serrat is an old farmhouse, converted into a centre for artists and writers. It’s bigger than La Muse, however, and has more of a history as a retreat. It was bought in the seventies by a group of Norwegian art students, as a bolt-hole where they could head to to paint and hang around in the sun. They still own it, but it’s now open to arty sorts from all over the world to come and use as a quiet working place. People stay there for a week, a month, or longer.
When we arrived we met the nine other people who’d be staying there for the same time as us – the whole of June. We were the only writers in the bunch, everyone else being a visual artist or a sculptor, or video maker. And it was quite nice suddenly being the exception to the rule. Maybe quite healthy, too, for playwrights to be in an environment where the people around us were all thinking visually.
All the residents at Can Serrat get dinner cooked for them six days a week, by the genius resident chef Anne Tone. Every day she’d whip up an enormous feast for loads of people (there were quite a few others that came to join the June-ers for shorter amounts of time) and it always tasted amazing. Mealtimes were brilliant – sitting outside the house on big table under a canopy of vines. Wine, more wine, and lots of talking. For breakfast and lunch we ate leftovers, bought our own bits and pieces, or chowed down on the whopping slices of bread and cheese that were in the kitchen to share.
As with our other retreats, we escaped the quiet and went into the civilisation at least once a week. And Barcelona is quite a civilisation. Can Serrat is about 50 minutes away from the city by bus (it’s just underneath Montserrat), which meant that it was just about far enough to stop us getting distracted by popping in every other hour, but near enough for us to have some amazing day trips. There’s such an edgy atmosphere of busy-ness and excitement and creativity in the city, and more art than you can shake a straw donkey at.
At Can Serrat I think we both managed to pick up the pace that had drooped slightly in Italy – maybe largely because of the other people around us who were busily working away too. Ali nearly finished a first draft of another new play. I started redrafting something that I’d begun in France, and ended up with a completely different piece, on the same theme, that I was much happier with. We left Can Serrat at the end of the month with two new plays, lots of photographs, and an address-book-full of new friends from all over the place. We drove across Spain at dawn to catch the long Bilbao to Portsmouth ferry home.
Since we came back I’ve thought a lot about what it was about the trip, and the places we stayed, that made us able to write so much. None of my worries had turned out to have any foundation – especially not the one about being uninspired. In each retreat I got lots of work done, really wanted to do it, and really enjoyed it too.
I think the thing I found most helpful about the retreats was just having other artists working alongside us on a daily basis (ironic, maybe, given that one of the things I’d looked forward so much about fleeing London was escaping the mass of people). Having other arty sorts around was really important in spurring us on, if only because it made us feel like we should be working at the same time as they were. In fact I think it might be fair to say that our productivity was kind of proportional to the number of people around us who were serious about getting down to writing or painting – I don’t think it was an accident that our motivation sagged a bit in Italy when we were living on our own, but that it then picked up when we had visitors there.
The other big factor had to be the sheer lack of anything else to do. In France, for example, we were in a village with no shop, no café, nothing. There were lots of beautiful walks to go on if we needed to stretch our legs, but nothing that was a major distraction. And of course with no TV, internet, email, or phone, it was easier to sit down and write than to be your own worst enemy, watching a repeat of Big Brother or emailing a friend you only saw last night.
That said, I think having a biggish town or city within relatively easy reach was also really important to us too. Apart from the need for somewhere decent to buy food and petrol, we found that being able to reconnect with bustle and busyness, when we chose to, was really refreshing - the day after we’d had our weekly trip into Carcassone, San Remo, or Barcelona, I usually wrote better and with more enthusiasm than I had the day before.
And our favourite retreat of the three? Would probably have to be Can Serrat. For several reasons – the number of people there, the kind of great people they were, the beautiful house and arty, sculpture-filled garden, the closeness to Barcelona, the weather, the festivals. And the fact that we were so well looked after – Can Serrat has a small team of people who organise the place and help to take some of the mundane jobs that can be distracting (like food shopping and cooking) off your shoulders, without mollycoddling you (we still did our own laundry and cleaning, and all took turns with washing up after our daily meals).
For all the time I spent, before we left, worrying about what might go wrong, nothing ever did, and our months in the retreats turned out to be invaluable. We wrote more than we ever would have in London; and, away from pressures and distractions of home, I started to get really absorbed by my writing again, to enjoy it.
So…we’re already talking about possibly doing it all again at some point in the future. And we’ve learnt loads from our three months away that we’ll use to choose retreats. We’ll look for ones that are remote without being cut off, peaceful but full of interesting people. The incredible rooms and brilliant food we had in France would be nice, combined with the inspiring views and Romantic surroundings from Italy, and the sociability and vibrant nearby city we loved so much in Spain. We’d like to go back to Can Serrat, but we’re also considering looking further afield for our next retreat. There’s some incredible-looking places in the USA, and in India. And next time I’ll know we’ll be doing exactly the right thing."
29/01/07
Joe Hammond is a writer Theatre Absolute recommended for the Royal Court's The 50 Programme:
Two [The 50] masterclasses now completed – and I’ve been given such a lift by spending time with other writers. We’ve had sessions with Hanif Kureishi, Joe Penhall, Abi Morgan and Stephen Jeffreys – each offering different perspectives on the writer’s experience.
It’s a tough, strange, grinding experience – getting your career going as a writer. You spend a lot of time on your own. Weird things happen in your head. So it’s a relief to be reassured that it’s like this for all of us – and to get advice from other writers on how best to manage the conditions and the relationships that come with the work.
And along with the luminaries, there are the other forty-nine writers. The master-class events taking place over two days, allowing plenty of opportunity to feel almost normal amongst contemporaries who understand what each other is trying to do.
Of course, with the pitching opportunities available through the scheme, these people are my competitors. And whilst I look forward to seeing and reading their work it will be unfortunate if one or two turn out to be inconveniently talented.
But for now, having just returned from the latest BBC/Royal Court sessions, I’m happy to bask in the warm glow of camaraderie that fifty struggling writers managed to muster, and feel reassured that my strange life and aspirations are not so strange after all.
29/01/07