(£¥€$) Dramaturgy: Ontroerend Goed @ Edfringe 2017

Ontroerend Goed, Theatre Royal Plymouth, Vooruit, Richard Jordan Productions and Big in Belgium

LIES (£¥€$)

Directed by Alexander Devrient

at Summerhall, Edinburgh – Upper Church

4-27 August (not 7, 14, 21, 28 August)

‘The best way to rob a bank is to own one’ — William Crawford, Commissioner of the California Department of Savings and Loans

Multiple Fringe-First winners Ontroerend Goed invite you to get under the skin of the well-to-do. the 1%, the super-rich, the ones who pull the strings, the faces we never get to see when they return to the Fringe with their latest production, LIES (£¥€$).

What was the inspiration for this performance?

A crisis.  Pikkety.  Money.  My mortgage.  Inside Job.  Margin Call. The island of Yap.  Joris Luyendijck.  But most of all my own ignorance of something that’s so dominant in my life.

Is performance still a good space for the public discussion of ideas? 

Totally.  More than any other medium it brings makers and audience together, in the same space.  

Books and movies still have a wider reach but there is no immediate interaction with the messenger, only with the message.

And as opposed to some other art forms theatre has the possibility to resist certain commercial influence.  In its limit lies its strength.

Because of that, theatre can be a mirror of reality without being influenced and controlled by political or commercial agendas.

How did you become interested in making performance?

I don’t remember.  We were up on a stage creating weird shizzle before we wondered why we were there.

Is there any particular approach to the making of the show?

Any idea or any show we create always demands its own process.  Our last show World Without Us - a monologue - was so different compared to £¥€$, with a team of more than 15 people.

And the subject matter was so much more complex.

Does the show fit with your usual productions?

Probably.

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

The point of the show was always to make you understand as much as bankers do of the financial system.  The only thing that we realised during the rehearsal process was… well bankers don’t know very much.

They don’t act, most of them just react.

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?

The gaming element was always there.  Put you in the position of the 1%.  And a casino setting seemed like a good idea to start it in.

Script by Joeri Smet, Angelo Tijssens, Karolien De Bleser and  Alexander Devriendt
Costume by Astrid Peeters
Music by Johannes Genard
Design by Nick Mattan
Scenography by vormen
Cast - Joeri Smet, Angelo Tijssens, Karolien De Bleser, Samir Veen, Hannah Boer, Aurélie Lannoy, Joeri Heegstra, Britt Bakker, Charlotte De Bruyne, Khalid Koujili, Bastiaan Vandendriessche, Eleonore Van Godtsenhoven, Robin Keyaert, Max Wind and Sjef van Schie

For one night, you can take their chairs. You call the shots. You're in the centre of our economic system.  You shape the course. 
And who knows, you might make the world a better place, more fair, more responsible, 
because you'll do things differently, for sure. 
Studies have shown the emotional core of greed, adrenaline and self- realization that drives the people operating in the financial system. From this point of view, the financial system is more like an uncontrollable beast with the capacity to possess people.  This “possession” is tangible in the performance £¥€$.  

Is it possible to seduce people who otherwise don’t care about money or feel strongly against capitalist ideology to engage in the game of hedge funds and stocks, high risk investments and toxic financial products. In the performance, there’s no judgement of the audience’s decisions. Choices are offered and the spectators/participants are free to decide



Theatre-performance-group Ontroerend Goed produces self-devised work grounded in the here and now, inviting their audiences to participate as well as observe. 

They first emerged on the international scene in 2007, with ‘The Smile Off Your Face’, a one-on-one show in which the audience is tied to a wheelchair and then blindfolded. Their hit show ‘Once and For All...’ was an uncompromising celebration of raw teenage energy on stage. With every new piece of work, Ontroerend Goed provides an intense experience constructed in reality; life goes on during the performance. The company has won numerous prizes across Europe and has appeared New York, Sydney, London and Hong Kong to critical acclaim. Their work continues to be performed in countries around the world.



About Big in Belgium

Big in Belgium, Richard Jordan Productions, Theatre Royal Plymouth, Summerhall
in association with RBC/Upper Church

Following the huge success of the four previous seasons at Summerhall, which have included the award-winning Us/Them, One Hundred Homes and The Great Downhill Journey of Little Tommy, Big in Belgium, Richard Jordan Productions, Summerhall and Theatre Royal Plymouth return to present a fifth BIG IN BELGIUM season at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe and featuring some of the most significant theatre companies from the Flemish part of Belgium.  

Each of the shows in this season has previously been very successful on the European mainland and are now presented for the first time to Edinburgh audiences, some translated and adapted, ready for breaking new grounds in English-speaking territories

The works are subsequently progressed worldwide following their Edinburgh premieres by the above producing parties.

This year BIG IN BELGIUM is also pleased to present four of its productions within a brand new theatre space adapted for them within Summerhall in association with RBC/Upper-Church.


LISTINGS INFORMATION

Venue:                        Summerhall (Upper Church), Summerhall Place, EH9 1PL
Dates and Times:      4 - 27 August at 18.30 (20:00) and 20.30 (22.00)
(not 7, 14, 21, 28 August)
Running Time:          90 mins          
Tickets:                      Previews £10, thereafter £14 (concessions £12)

Box Office:                 0845 874 3001

The Real Origin of Mad Cyril...

Oy oy Ontroerend Goed. I wanna word. 

Now it seems like Vile's got is ot little ands on a copy of ya 'blueprints for theatre performance.' Naw, as ya know, Vile's a bit ov a fan, an he was pretty excited to ave a ganda at ya scripts, only...

Ta see that intro ta Audience. Where ya say it caused a bit ov bovva in the UK? Some geeza frew a shoe at ya? Well, that shoe-flinga was me, an it was nuffin to do wiv not likin what ya were up ta. I was jus joinin in. An you farkin started it.

It's like this, sunshine. Audience was all abaht the audience response, right. An I knew from the minute it kicked off, that you was gonna fuck wiv us. Thas why I didn't stand up when you told us ta. I was like, nah, they are gunna video this an play it back later. Fuck that.

Then that bit where ya gave some women gyp? I knew somefin like that was gunna happen, so I took my shoes off before ya even started. I'd been checkin up on ya, knew ya could handle a bit of trouble, and was waitin for ma chance. When ee kicked off on that bint, I kicked off on him, and gave him a shoeing.

The shoe's a political symbol, chuckles. Like they frew one at George Bush that one time then, it's a big thing in Muslim societies. It means ya being a muvahfucka. 

But I was jus joinin in, G. It weren't no protest, I fort ya were makin a point about how passive the audience becomes. 

In my case, I ain't puttin up with ya nonsense. Ya seem to be sayin that some character bunged is shoes at ya cos he was offended. I weren't. I farkin luv this show, Audience. I was givin ya somefin to play off, see whevver you could live up to ya hype.

Ya boy did okay. I called im a cunt a coupla time, ee said ee was sorry abaht it, an he got on wiv is acting. When he kicked off on the piece again, the audience only fuckin turned to me and told me to frow my ovver shoe. I told em to fuck off and do it theirselves. 'I ain't responsible for yous cunts,' were my exact words.

Gareth K Vile comments
In retrospect, this action was the first manifestation of my critical avatar, Mad Cyril. If I am the father of Mad Cyril, then Ontroerend Goed are the mother. Collectively.

Mad Cyril continues
And Audience was the womb he shot is load up. See, Cyril's ere to say what Vile daren't, cos ee's a liberal pussy. I am like you, Ontroerend Goed: the critical mirror to your aggressive deconstruction of theatrical form. Simples.

I am the Critical Thug.

Parklife, eh?

The Traditional Circus makes a comeback

It has been said that satire died the day that Kissinger won the Nobel Peace Prize, but UKIP's Traditional Circus Roadshow has become a handy reminder that British humour has always balanced on the razor's edge between sea-side postcard sauciness and anti-establishment vitriol. Taking their name from a pair of radical live artists, The Kippers are bringing back the beloved clowns of the English circus and adding a rough hewn acrobatic energy.

Moving away from the Big Top was a bold move, but TCR has

Private Eye wins

become a roving side-show, heading to towns that have not seen such tomfoolery since the 1970s. Their use of venues more commonly associated with political discussions serves as a reminder that most parliaments have become rest-homes for the delirious, a sanctuary for men who would otherwise be shouting about conspiracies on the corner of Glasgow's Sauchiehall Street and smelling of sweat and piss. And in a culture defined by the short, sharp snatch of soundbites and Youtube, The Kippers recognise that 'street theatre' needs not be invisible nor undocumented.

The ringmaster, Nigel Farage, announces the circus open by arriving in an aeroplane, which swiftly crashes into a field. This integration of the spectacular and the absurd reveals a sensitivity to the importance of Hollywood Blockbusters, giving the audience a big banf before the action has even begun. Less successfully, the attempt to explain immigration through the old 'too many clowns in the car trick' fails, mainly because the clowns forgot to read the instruction manual to make the doors fall off properly.

The magic of TCR is the post-modern pastiche and collage of out-dated genres: Mike Read tries to appropriate the calypso in a revival of the aesthetic from The Black and White Minstrels, while the MEP for Scotland recalls Frankie Howerd's self-deprecating monologues, apparently forgetting his lines. Farage himself picks up on Charlie Chaplin's memorable impersonation of Hitler, but adds his own twist: his speeches use totalitarian rhetorical techniques to challenge totalitarian power. It a meta-layer worthy of Ontroerend Goed.

Immersed?

Over at Kettle, Gemma Hurst has a look at immersive theatre - the shows that get the audience in on the action. With a wide enough definition to include pantomime and those live art bloodletting sessions I adore, Hurst questions whether this format is just 'lazy... where inspiration fails you, and so you use the audience to jazz it up a little bit.


Hurst notes that immersive theatre is divisive - people like me who can't wait to throw a shoe at an actor tend to love it, but worries that companies are using it without due care for the audience. The failure to advertise that the audience might end up involved is okay when it's The Krankies at the SECC, but a different issue at Ontroerend Goed's more confrontational numbers.

Hurst is particularly concerned by student or young companies using immersive strategies - an issue that comes under 'ethical choices' for me. It also gives me a chance to remember, fondly, that time that the crew from Lincoln University tried to do an Artaud inspiration production, and I ended up on stage, with a woman in a sexy nurse nurse costume holding my legs while she got dry-humped off a bloke wearing a vicar outfit.

I'm not saying that wasn't fun, but after they'd finished, they just left me on stage. I felt like a spare member at a wedding. For a moment, I was tempted to go full on Criticulous -  remember, I had a square-go with Ontroerend Goed during Audience - but decided to go back to my seat. Later on, the sexy nurse showed me her bum, so I wasn't completely excluded from the shenanigans.

The youngsters, however, didn't really have a clear idea about how to handle an immersed audience. Compared to Dinner is Swerved, which served me food and played cheeky games with the select audience, the Artaud gang didn't make sure I was safe and comfortable. I feel used and a bit dirty (not in a good way).

Much of the enthusiasm for immersive performance in the Edinburgh Fringe came about after Hotel Medea took over Summerhall in 2011. The all-night show got the audience playing various roles, and had time to divide them up into little groups that bordered on therapy sessions. It was a bold, expansive take on Euripides' tragedy (which included other bits of the Medea myth, a coarse cynicism about political manipulation and some unnecessary costumes that showed off female breasts). Managing to engage emotionally - and get five star reviews - it was being used by some student actors as a textbook. 

As it goes, the cast of Hotel Medea was not that good at controlling the audience: it was only the passivity of audiences that let them away with dressing up men as women or adults as children. I decided not to do as I was told, and they couldn't handle it. Luckily, that was just me being a dick and, having 'broken' the illusion, I wandered off (and did enjoy the piece). 

I went to see Audience the next day, and tried my best to 'break' the action (this involved flinging a shoe at the stage, sitting on the stage to watch the second half, calling the audience a bunch of cunts. Contrary to other reports, Ontroerend Goed handles it pretty well. Some reviewers said that the actors struggled if their script was disrupted. But they seemed to deal with my thuggish conduct very well.

Both of these companies did a fair job of immersing the audience - my antics are exceptional, really, and it is not fair to push Hotel Medea's failure to restrain me too far. But they did have a very clear idea of how to work the 'non-actors.' Again, the version of Alice by Fourth Monkey ushered the audience around the space, did one on one interludes and made the crowd feel like guests in a family home (where paedophilia was likely, but...). What's important for me is not whether the company are being lazy, but whether they know what they are doing... and student companies need to be careful...

Performance Collaboration

Immersive theatre involves the audience, meaning that the performers actively insert the audience into the story. Whether that is in a main role or as a small part, such as reading something out on a piece of card, depends on the show being created. But audience participation is the definition Immersive Theatre.

Having recently experienced the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, this summer I was able to see a lot of genres of theatre, and quite a lot of those performances required the audience to participate in the productions.

A Divisive Medium

As immersive theatre can occur in different ways, if you are a lover of theatre and conformable with the situation, then being a part of the show can be a great experience. It can make you feel special, by getting you right to the heart of the performance, and almost replicating the experience of the actor.

However, if you are the kind of audience-goer who tends to shy away from going up on stage, and the idea of getting up out of your seat in the auditorium is a frightening concept, then perhaps being involved in that this of show is not for you.

Sadly, though, with immersive theatre you don’t get that option when you are put into a potentially awkward position, as most productions will not publicise in advance the fact that they include audience participation at all.

Critiquing the Form

Additionally, I personally worry that this form of theatre has become a lazy option for a number of young theatre makers. As a performing arts student in the past, I understand how difficult it is to create theatre, and there have been times where I wanted to be lazy and create something half hearted.

So, is immersive theatre lazy? Perhaps in the sense that your original production reaches a point where inspiration fails you, and so you use the audience to jazz it up a little bit.

I witnessed at least three performances in Edinburgh, by young actors who relied upon the audiences to make their show interesting.

Sometimes it worked and sometimes it did not.

Taking a Risk

Often, when you go to the theatre there is a mixed age range of audience members, and that could have a potential negative impact if you are a theatre maker.

For instance, I went to see a show which involved two audience members acting as compares for the evening. It didn’t require them to be standing directly on stage but they did have to read from a script.

Even this simple concept became a slight issue, as neither compare was English, and both had a lot of trouble reading from the scripts, meaning that the performance was tense at times and the pace slowed right down because of this.

Immersive theatre can be an innovative and exciting form of performance, but it can also be used as a get out clause by the actors involved, and ultimately, its difficulty of use shouldn’t be taken lightly.

Five Performances for a Post-Referendum Scotland

Audience (Ontroerend Goed)
Many critics got upset because the company abused a plant in the crowd, missing the subsequent deconstruction of 'the manufacture of consent' and dismissing the Belgians as shock-tactic nihilists. The last half hour, however, demonstrates how easy mass manipulation can be, and the problems that 'doing the right thing' can bring to anyone who mistakes observation as passivity.

Bloody Mess (Forced Entertainment)
The show that will keep Forced Entertainment on the syllabus of University Theatre Studies until the subject is finally rolled up into the Faculty of Neo-Darwinian Analysis, Bloody Mess  is a glorious fusion of many themes and competing ideas. One especially powerful strand is the gradual revelation that apparent communication is, in fact, just the juxtaposition of individuals following their own journey and accidently bumping into each other. Plenty is said, but no dialogue ever emerges. 

Fall (Zinnie Harris)
Apparently, in the navy, when the tempest rages and men are swept

overboard or eaten by a giant squid, a wily old jack tar will mumble: 'never mind, worse things happen in a Zinnie Harris play.' Miserable dystopias are cheap in theatre, ever since Beckett got chuckles from Godot: it is Harris' attention to detail and broad poetic scope that lift her apocalypses above the mundane. Dominic Hill's direction often found the beauty in the brutality, and Fall's finale renders the end of the world... delicate.

Jesus, Queen of Heaven (Jo Clifford)
Remember how I bang on about the hermeneutical spiral? This is a good reminder of how the event (in this case, the claims for the incarnation of the Judeo-Christian God) is given meaning by the process of rereading and recontextualisation. Note: does not contain fundamentalism.

VSPRS (Les Ballets C de la B)
This rarely needs a reason to be included, but... like Bloody Mess, it has strands to spare and the way that the awkward, the physically unique and the other are capable of moving towards an ecstatic moment of unity probably make it the one of the most vivid and visceral expression of the holiness of all human life (at least in the tradition of European contemporary dance). Plus it had Iona Kewney in it, and a gypsy band playing psychedelic versions of Monteverdi.