Showing posts with label Arches Live 2013. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arches Live 2013. Show all posts

Monday, 1 September 2014

The Glasgow School XX Calendar for September

If Glasgow's theatre communities can be bounded by the geographical limits of the city, there is also an annual calendar of events that has become reasonably stable over the past five years. Despite the emergence and disappearance of festivals (Radiance shone briefly in the mid-2000s, The National Review of Live Art was wound up after thirty years in 2010), a relatively settled programme has developed.

September
After the hurly-burly of the Edinburgh Fringe, Arches Live!  is the traditional start to the autumn seasons. Ranging from a week to a month's worth of performances, installations and exhibitions - sometimes including a 'take over' of the restaurant by a selected artist - the festival is curated by Jackie Wylie and features a host of mainly local and emerging artists.

2013 programme
Art/Action/Other #1 (discussion event)
Rachel Frances Sharpe: Smoke
Unboxed: Break the Silence
Leo Glaister: Ultraviolet Catastrophe
Calum MacAskill: Every Pound’s A Prisoner!
Greg Sinclair: I Do, Do I
Peter Lannon/Emma Nutland: Punching Woman Coming At You Punchman
V/DA: Behave
Enormous Yes: Bonny Boys Are Few
Ian Johnston/Gary Gardiner/Adrian Howells: He’s The Greatest Dancer
Rosana Cade: Sister
Louise Ahl: NICE Opening Ceremony
Arches Commons breakfast discussion: Am I An Artist?
Visting Company: Panorama
Katy Baird and Jonathan May: At Least We Tried
Unboxed: I’m Still Gay And You’re Still Dying
Shafted!? Theatrical Dissidents: Shafted!?

Since The Arches offers a season ticket, and most events have short runs, Arches Live! is close to a music festival in structure. It encourages works in progress (the versions of Sister and I Do, Do I would later be expanded for the 2014 Edinburgh Fringe) and young artists, making their first works outside of academia (Peter Lannon is a recent graduate of the RCS). It has a DIY atmosphere, with multiple events on the same night, and discussions are part of the overall programme.

September marks the beginning of the seasons for the producing house theatres  - The Tron and The Citizens - and the Tramway, which mixes touring productions and festivals. 

September 2014 also sees the arrival of Arika's Episode 6: Make a Way Out of No Way. Although the company are based in Edinburgh, and were previously preoccupied with festivals of experimental music, Arika has become increasingly concerned with work across the entire spectrum of performance. Their Episodes combine theatre, live art, music, lectures and discussions around a particular theme. Episode 6 looks at 'queer black art,' following earlier Episodes that took the New York Ballroom scene as a cue for a wide-ranging exploration of dance and queer subculture.

As for The Citizens and The Tron: the respective kick-offs to their autumn seasons might give some clues towards their unique identities. 

The Citizens has two whopping great shows - Headlong's 1984 and artistic director Dominic Hill's Hamlet. Hill's thoughts on his Hamlet give further clues. “Hamlet’s grief, loss of trust, the complexity of his family relationships and how he negotiates the abrupt changes to his world around him are challenges that contemporary audiences can relate to. Brian Ferguson is a thoughtful and sensitive actor, whom I really wanted for this production, which will focus on Hamlet’s internal struggles and the domestic drama between two families. Shakespeare at the Citz is always a special event, and I'm looking forward to presenting a production that adds to that rich history.” 

The emphasis on a contemporary reading of a classic - the centrality of the actor (Brian Ferguson, who is becoming a major Scottish player - the sense of an occasion and the legacy of previous performances.

The Tron, meanwhile, waits a while before its big opening - a Chekhov via Scotland - and has a selection of short runs of proven plays (Full Tilt, which wowed Oran Mor, The Carousel, a Traverse Fringe Festival entry, a few comedians and gigs, plus Alan Bissett's political pantomime. 


(As a bonus, here's a one-off in Edinburgh for September 2014. Does this give context to the stability of the Glasgow month? Or do I just like the picture?
credit:Mark Hamilton



Blabbermouth
The Assembly Hall, Edinburgh on 17 September 2014, midday to midnight

A live twelve-hour celebration of Scottish music and spoken word, read, sung and performed by its people, between midday and midnight.

Featuring invited artists, actors, politicians, journalists, sportspeople, singers and scientists.



Wednesday, 25 September 2013

Thomas Hobbins takes a ride... I leave Nethy Bridge...

Thomas Hobbins made my legs ache just by watching his Land's End. Admittedly, he spends most of the performance cycling - bringing back memories of the route between Nethy Bridge and Aviemore - pausing only in recollection of idyllic childhood adventures. But the energy he brings to the story, and his natural charisma, makes the mix and match of Lord of the Rings and a spontaneous attempt to cycle from Land's End to John O'Groats ('is he a giant?' ponders Hobbins) both charming and resonant.

The simple set - a signpost and a bike fixed on a stand - is evocative of Hobbins' themes: the sense of freedom and excitement, and the loneliness and exhaustion, that come with an open road. Unlike my trip from Nethy Bridge, Hobbins' journey was spontaneous and accompanied. While I spent much of the time staring out at the surrounding countryside, before arriving in an Aviemore that feels more like a seaside resort than a lonely outpost in the Highlands, Hobbins was in earnest conversation with his travelling companion (the Sam to his Frodo, in the extended comparisons to the hobbits quest to Mordor).

Hobbins highlights his own impulsive enthusiasm - the story begins with a flashback to childhood, when LotR inspired him to cycle off to the local power station, with only a bottle of fizz and a packet of Monster Munch for rations - and the tensions of travelling long distances with a close friend. His honesty about his lack of preparation, and the conflicts between the duo, is disarming. His rendition of Blackberry Way - a song that bears resemblance to The Beatles' Penny Lane but of a darker bent - captures both the hopelessness of the long distance journey and the vague sense of togetherness that it encourages.

The constant cycling - Hobbins makes his hour long monologue into an act of endurance by whizzing the wheels around as he talks - provides a humming soundtrack to the episodic dramas. When the lights dim - the dynamic duo get lost at night - the buzz of the wheels is sinister. When he scoots into John O'Groats, it becomes triumphant. Yet all the way through the bike does not move - a startling symbol of the ambiguity of travel: however far we go, somethings never change...

It is as if Hobbins is in flight from himself, but unable to escape...

The train that went past me, an old vintage steam engine, faster than my cycle over uneven ground....

Wednesday, 18 September 2013

Another Critical Moan: What Do You Want, Performers?

To get a rough idea of how I am feeling about criticism at the moment, imagine that I am running up and down a corridor with my hair on fire.

Most of the time, criticism is an easy game. If I stick to plays by established companies (Rapture, NTS, Dominic Hill at The Citizens), the rules of engagement are simple. The cast, the backstage crew, the ushers, the press office are all getting paid and this payment allows me to focus on being critical. I can be as harsh as necessary, and the review is directed not for the benefit of the company but potential audiences. If I am unkind about a particular performance, or performer (within the bounds of social acceptability - there is no space for personal insults), their wage ought to provide a buffer.

If I decide to review a community or youth company, it becomes more difficult. First of all, any harsh criticism is being directed at individuals who do not claim to be professional. It isn't their job to be on stage. Besides, youth and community theatre is not just about the end product - the journey of the company is equally important. Saying that Show X is not up to standard denies the process that went into making the work. That actors who fluffed their lines? Three weeks ago they couldn't stand up in a room in front of six people. The usual standards are not relevant.

Even that doesn't provide a real problem. First of all, these shows are easy to spot - and be avoided, if I don't have a solution to how to review them. Furthermore, when I had a bad knee, I worked out an answer to integrating process and product. Get in touch if you would like to buy this information.

The difficulty comes from Works-in-Progress. Again, if they are clearly labelled, it is not a problem. I'd argue that those critics who give stars to WiPs are missing their point - the artist is putting the piece into the public realm for feedback, not definitive ratings.

The real problem, the flame to my receding hairline, is when a work is not properly labelled, or exists in a festival like Arches Live! In the latter, artists are encouraged to take risks, and are likely to make mistakes. For many years, there was chat about how The Arches offered a 'freedom to fail.' The phrase isn't a good one - it suggests that The Arches' programme is full of actors deliberately making bad work, which isn't true. But its spirit is valuable.

September is always Arches Live month, and I am going back for the second night tonight. The first night reminded me why I always get in a tizzy during the early autumn. A quick breakdown: I saw four works. All of them were artistically interesting. Half of them would also be interesting to a wider audience.

The division here is between art that is interesting to people who have a vested interest in the art form, and art that would appeal to people outside of the industry.

As a critic, I do have a vested interest in the art form and I am supposed to understand what the hell is going on - I don't have a normative, or average, perception of performance. So, I can look past the shaky performances, the incomplete theatricality, and see the vision. I can make the grand statement: this is worth moving forward.

I also recognise that it is a WiP - so it gets a pass on the 'classic review' with star ratings and that...

However, if I review it from this position, how do I make it clear that this is not the sort of piece that is going to appeal to an audience that is used to the polish of a full professional production?

I am asking performers to tell me what they think I ought to do. There is a space for dialogue here. Should I go in, studs out, and point out which acts could do with a spot more training at the RCS? Or should I be gentle, recognise that the investment of the performer deserves respect, and that support at this stage will enable them to pursue the ideas to fruition?

(If I get some replies, I do have some non-negotiable positions - I'll save them in the hope they intrigue. And as for the first artist who claims they 'just want an honest review': they will get one.)

Arches Live (Day 1)

Having spent the last three Arches Live! as a performer, I felt uncomfortable slipping back into my traditional role. My critiques will now be vulnerable to the traditional artist's retort - the critic is, indeed, the failed artist. Having had a crack at intimate theatre, the chat show and a post-modern version of the script (containing plenty about how much I love myself), I step back into the arena wondering whether I could have been more ambitious.

However, I am back on safe ground, and can begin with my annual appeal. Arches Live is not a festival that welcomes the classic review format. Even for those shows which deserve to be in the running for awards at the end of the season, a positive, star-rated review is not the point. The spirit of Arches Live is in experimentation, and it has a supportive audience, many of them fellow performers. It has the spirit of a graduate conference, in which researchers present a few findings.

Bearing this in mind, Adam Scarborough was reporting on the thin line between student pranks (he had his haircut in the city centre), political engagement and the way that politics has become an aesthetic performance. Steve Slater (the father of Criticulous, although he denies it) nipped into outer space and an alternative reality. Opera Breve took the logic of Scottish Opera's 5:15 programme to its logical conclusion.

Opera Breve's One Day This Will Be Long Ago is a fifteen minute burst of serious singing sensuality. Although it reduces the operatic duet to a series of leading phrases, and never clarifies the relationship between the man and woman pacing around the kitchen table, it uses the intensity of the operatic voice (and the musicians behind the curtain) to marry the immediacy of live art and the technique of high art. The couple are clearly stuck in a moment that they can never escape - the fragmented memories are so mundane, they appear to hide all sorts of intense emotions. Intelligent and emotive, One Day does set a high standard: live artists could think about how skilled technique can enhance intimacy between art and audience; opera could think about how a small scale makes those techniques more accessible.

Meanwhile, Between Atoms and Stars is Steve Slater's return to performance after years of programming (at Tramway) and production management (for Untitled Projects). Slater allows his enthusiasm for space exploration and Joseph Beuys to meet, imagining a world where Beuys has Yuri Gagarin in the gallery alongside him. There's no urgency in the story - Slater slips between childhood memories and the alternative history that frees Gagarin from his untimely death - and sketches out space for future performances rather than establishes a clear purpose.

Sortition  is Adam Scarborough's attempt to advocate the return of a more inclusive government. By the time he admits that he isn't sure that sortition is a good alternative to representative democracy, he has posed as a career politician - all hot air and speaking on behalf of the people - been challenged by his audience in an uncomfortable debate and rolled out a series of thoughts on how politics has been usurped by a particular class.

Like Between Atoms, this comes across as a first draft. It comes back to the problem of Arches Live - which is also its point. Both Slater and Scarborough are taking the chance to try something new, and indulging personal interests, testing their shape for the stage. Yet both suffer from  tentative structure and a lack of precision in their performance. It's clear that Scarborough is frustrated, for example, by the current state of the political system. Unfortunately, his projected solution does not reveal his reasons for his disappointment.

Certainly, these works point to interesting conversations and their weaknesses are more in specifics of performance than ambition or ideas. It is how these conversations are framed that is important - something I struggled to do in my own performances at previous festivals.