Forgetting Dramaturgy: Guillaume Pigé @ Edfringe 2017

The Nature of Forgetting

Pleasance Courtyard (Forth), 60 Pleasance, Edinburgh, EH8 9TJ Thursday 3rd – Sunday 27th August 2017 (not 14th), 12:00

Following a sell-out run at the 2017 London International Mime Festival, Theatre Re’s The Nature of Forgetting is a powerful, explosive and joyous piece about what is left when memory and recollection are gone. It is part of British Council Edinburgh Showcase 2017.

Tom has just turned 55. As he dresses for his birthday party, tangled threads of disappearing memories spark him into life, unravelling as a tale of friendship, love and guilt. This ambitious project with actors, mimes and musicians has been created in collaboration with UCL Neuroscience Professor Kate Jeffery and inspired by interviews and workshops with organisations such as the Alzheimer's Society. 

While the medium of performance may be an unusual resource for the transmission of science, it shines a light on issues around memory that offers a new perspective.

What was the inspiration for this performance?

The Nature of Forgetting started with a question:

what is eternal? Or more specifically what is left when memory is gone? To find answers we dived into the world of memories and forgetting. 

We collaborated with UCL Neuroscience Professor Kate Jeffery to explore what it means to forget and what actually happens in the brain when we forget. We also interviewed older members of the community as well as people living with dementia and their carers to create links between the science and the real human experience.

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

I think performance is a good trigger for fascinating discussions because it helps us to develop our empathy. It helps us to put ourselves in someone else's shoes and see the world through his or her eyes.

With The Nature of Forgetting, we don't pretend that we portray on stage what it is like to be living with early onset dementia, but we give a glimpse of what it can be like. We provide a change of perspective and that change can be enlightening and lead to the public discussion of ideas such as why providing extensive care for people living with dementia, what sort of care is needed and also how to train people to be more dementia friendly. 

It is as if the role of the artist was to reveal or unveil inner truths about the human condition and share the result of his or her exploration with an audience. Performance seems to be a rehearsal for life.

How did you become interested in making performance?

I first trained as an actor and then as a director and then I fell in love with Mime. To me, Mime is about making the portrait of something (an thought, an idea, an emotion...etc) with something else (a body, an object, the voice...etc). It is about creating metaphors on stage to communicate, and I find it to be the most beautiful and powerful thing in the world because it triggers the audience's imagination.

With The Nature of Forgetting, our main question was: what is left when memory is gone? We did not find the answer. We could not find the answer. So we made a show about it, in other word we created a metaphor to give a flavour of the answer. And that flavour turned out to be more real and tangible than any answers.

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

As a company we work very collaboratively, we take time and we constantly open the doors of our rehearsal room to share/test our work.

We engaged with a lot of people throughout the development process. A lot of the work happened in rehearsal, but many discoveries were also made while researching for the project, interviewing experts in the field of memory and public health, engaging with people living with dementia and their carer.

When in the rehearsal room, we started by moving and improvising. A few objects became very rapidly central to the piece like the wooden school desks, for instance. Most of our initial little scenes did not make much sense and were completely unrelated. It is only little by little, through constant and regular adjustments and regular dramaturgy sessions, where we questioned every choices, that very slowly a piece appeared. It seems very similar to sculpting in that sense. It was a process of constant refinement. And it still is.

Does the show fit with your usual productions?

Yes and no.

Yes, because we sweat a lot. It is very physical and visual and I think people will relate to the work in a deep and intuitive way. The whole piece is also being supported by a live musical score specially composed by Alex Judd.

No, because we have never had so many things and performers on stage. There is a lot of stuff, so it is not as minimal as our previous productions, where only a couple of objects were used to their maximal potential. It is also our most narratively driven piece to date.

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

I would like the audience to come out of the theatre with both a smile on their face and a tear in their eye, having experienced the fragility of life.

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?


I tried to give a real portrait of what it means to forget. By real, I don't mean natural or naturalistic but true. It comes back to the idea of creating metaphors on stage and how these metaphors can help  us get closer to the unspeakable truth that we are trying to communicate to the audience.

Director Guillaume Pigé comments, The Nature of Forgetting is not about dementia. It is about the fragility of life and that eternal ‘something’ we all share that is left when memory is gone. Our collaboration with Professor Kate Jeffery and our interviews with people living with dementia and their carers have resulted in a life-affirming journey into a weakening mind, where broken does not have to mean defeated.

The development process for The Nature of Forgetting lasted for 16 months, funded by Arts Council England. The piece is co-commissioned by the London International Mime Festival, The Point and South Hill Park.

Established in 2009, Theatre Re is a London-based international ensemble creating thought- provoking, tangible and poignant work. Its shows examine fragile human conditions, in a compelling, physical style embracing mime, theatre and live music.

Fail Blog

I have just spent forty-five minutes laughing at various "Facebook Fails." Before that, I watched some clips of Jeremy Kyle, wondering why the couples were together and whether there is more in-breeding than I had previously surmised. This binge on other people's failure began with an Alan Partridge marathon.

And all I was doing was making myself feel better about my own failures.

I'll come to the nature of my failures another time - they concern my inability to translate Big Ideas into a Practical Good Life. I am more interested in how failures are served up, through the internet, as entertainment. There are partially moral warnings - watch out lest you end up having Kyle reading out the answers to your "all important lie-detector test" - and partially slapstick entertainment. And the more slapstick, the more it becomes a warning: the bigger the warning, the funnier the slapstick.

Failure is not something that anyone aspires towards. It is relocated - onto YouTube, into the ghetto of "reality TV." Failure is a bit like sin used to be: everyone does it, but no-one admits to it.

In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Pirsig suggests that failure is essential to the process of attaining "quality." In his sequel, Lila, he even suggests that mental illness - a sign of social disfunction, along with many other things - is part of the process, too. He embraces failure, the marginalised, the excluded. Not out of compassion (Phaedrus, his hero and author avatar, is more rational than kindly), but because these things are an essential part of the world.

I am currently pondering the purpose of art and criticism. Gradually, I'll unfurl my conclusions to an indifferent universe. Today, I am thinking about the nature of failure. Under current critical conditions, it is possible to grade a play in such a way that it either succeeds or fails.

Even if I resist the idea that a play's success is to do with the quality of the performers or directors or script, and replace it with the argument that it is the clarity of expression that matters, I'm still assigning pass or fail criteria.

Let's assume that a certain play failed... or to break it down a little, that certain aspects of a play failed. I am more comfortable, even in thought experiments, in avoiding too general a statement.

I am taking The Maids as my text today.

There were two aspects of The Maids that 'failed' for me. One of them was the live performance of rock music by the actors, used as interludes. While it broke up the drama in a way that respected Genet's intention to disorientate, the transition of the actors into a student band didn't enhance the various themes and went on for two long. The other interruptions to the text (the director doing a spontaneous Q and A session, the video of Genet shouting about the BBC) were far more successful, intriguing in their own terms and shedding light on the play.

The other problem was that some of the acting was a little bland, in places. Genet gives his characters epic speeches, and some of these were delivered flatly.

Neither of these "failures" translated into making the whole play a failure. They did weaken the impact and, in the case of the musical numbers, made the play run long (when its impact as a series of short, sharp jabs is better served by a fast pace).

And, even though I am the most amazing critic of all time, I am sure that some people would not agree with me  - and would have a point. In fact, there is another critic, whom I rather respect, who thinks the exact opposite of me. But let's accept my reading for a moment.

Let's look at the bland acting. If bad acting involves forgetting lines, missing entrances and falling off the stage, this wasn't bad. Bland acting is when the lines are delivered, but there is no sense that the actor really understands their meaning.  It describes a lack of depth in the performance. In one of the crucial final speeches, the maid did not seem to really be experiencing an almost erotic terror at the thought of death, which is what I think the speech presents. It came across as a boring ramble.

If you are still with me, I hate to spend so much time concentrating on the disappointing. Especially when I am not sure how I am going to get out of this.

Now, the way that failures are treated is to isolate them, put them on YouTube and make a series of snappy comments.

But all that does is create an opposition. As a critic, I am supposed to chastise artists for their failures. I would rather engage in a dialogue.

There's no question that bland acting is not a pleasure to watch: I remember seeing Miriam Margoyles last year, and there's a delight in seeing her work a script through her talent. But here's a thing: Genet's original directions for his play insisted that the maids were played by young boys. Apart from the discomfort this would provide (the language is very sexualised) and the gender disjunction (are they men being women, women being men, or men playing men playing women or...), it would have ensured that the speeches were delivered blandly. Teenage boys would struggle to understand the dynamic of the maids' desires.

And part of Genet's overall plan is to confuse the audience. So, this failure is part of Genet's plan for success - success in this case meaning that the audience was undermined, distracted, made to recognise that they were watching a play, not a documentary.

Dylan said "there's no success like failure, and that's no success at all."

In The Maids, failure is part of the success: they cannot exist without each other. And not in a trite way, a sort of hippy platitude. Unless parts of the play fail, it cannot get across Genet's intentions.

And what if that applies on an even larger scale?

Moaning about Derren Brown

My investigation into the power of puppetry has taken a wrong turn. Originally fascinated by the ability of a motionless mask or puppet to appear to have a wide range of emotions - probably projected onto the face by the viewer - ended up in an investigation into the possibility that free will and consciousness are illusions. I've been wondering whether humans are actually just puppets, which encouraged me to try to find out who was pulling the strings.

I'm blaming Philip K. Dick. Over Christmas, I indulge in too much television and, in a desperate attempt to escape from endless repeats of The Big Bang Theory and that crap starring the Kardashians, I tuned into Moon. After nearly two hours of spectacular shots of arid landscapes and dialogues on the relative humanity of the clone, I was ready for Blade Runner. Of course, the "puppets" in Ridley Scott's films are automatons who have smuggled themselves into human society, leading to typical Dick discussions on the nature of the soul.

Blade Runner's take on "do androids dream?" inevitably opens up humanity to all manner of robots, with Roy Batty's demise suggestive of redemption (a dove flies into the air, like his soul ascending to heaven): I decided to check out Derren Brown's The Experiments for a counter-balance. Four episodes, which I ought to have watched over a year ago when they were probably still controversial, in which Brown 'demonstrates' that the belief in free will is just an illusion.

It's probably unfair of me to have such a low opinion of Derren Brown - ever since he did that seance, which was too transparent in its trickery, I have regarded him as the Stephen Fry of mentalism. That is to say, he is painfully pompous and replaces celebrity for talent, mistaking the espousal of a belief in natural selection genuine scientific curiosity . In The Experiments, however, he has a good crack at exploring four of the ways that the mind can be manipulated.

In the rather cool advert for the series, Brown has a bunch of people mocked up to look like ventriloquist dummies - I'm sure that I could fake an article on the semiotics of the dummy the next time a company don't return their email interview in time for me to write about them. It emphasises the promise of the series that here is a show ready to challenge lazy assumptions about our ability to make free decisions.

Unfortunately, like in Brown's previous investigations, a serious subject is treated with a show-business insincerity that undermines any possibility of actually fulfilling this potential. The ambition of each episode - it kicks off with an attempt to brainwash a man to assassinate Stephen Fry, although brainwashing Fry into forgetting to sign his next contract for Q.I. would have been a better public service - is so massive that it seems unlikely that Brown could manage it without resorting to TV trickery. The guy who thought he's committed a murder, that one where he predicts the lottery numbers: sure, he could have managed it through his combination of NLP and conjuring tricks. But it is on television, and it would be a lot quicker just to use a stooge.

Even if his goatee makes Brown look like a huckster, I don't really care that he is pretending to skills he doesn't possess. I don't own a TV anyway, and the worst he has ever done to me is waste twenty minutes of my time reading the first chapter of his turgid autobiography. Unfortunately, I don't like the way he presents his cod-reality shows as some kind of scientific investigation. Hoping to find out about guilt, I just watched episode three, which is chiefly memorable for the appearance of yet another one of those science fans, Tim Minchen.

When Brown shouts out that the mind is no so independent as we'd like to think, or that secret programmes can be written into the consciousness without permission or awareness, he is asking the same question that Philip K Dick provokes in Androids: but the format of television itself allows so much potential for deceit that his "experiments" are useless. He's quite entertaining in places and his banter about the ideas is worth a listen though, but my investigation into the way that the human mind imposes worth on two dimensional surfaces that lack depth or integrity obviously has nothing to do with television, does it?

Dramaturgy Paradise: George Mann @ Edfringe 2017

Theatre Ad Infinitum presents:

Translunar Paradise

Theatre Ad Infinitum’s breakthrough smash-hit returns to the Fringe for their 10th anniversary

Written and directed by George Mann

Pleasance Courtyard, Fourth, 2 – 28 Aug 2017 (not 9, 15 & 22), 15.45 (17.00)

First seen at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2011, Theatre Ad Infinitum’s multi award-winning, wordless tale of life, death and enduring love returns to the Pleasance following years of extensive international touring amassing nine awards. 

Original performers George Mann and Deborah Pugh are joined by Sophie Crawford to retell with precise gesture and touches of humour the story of widower William who escapes to a comforting world of fantasy and memories rather than confront his grief. From beyond the grave, his wife Rose returns to help him let go. 

This poignant, life-affirming tale uses intricate and lifelike hand-held masks – created by Madame Tussaud’s senior sculptor Victoria Beaton – to travel back and forth through William and Rose’s relationship, wordlessly conveying a lifetime of memories in 75 minutes. Translunar Paradise returns to the Fringe alongside Theatre Ad Infinitum’s Odyssey for the company’s 10th anniversary.

What was the inspiration for this performance?
I had been trying to find a way to understand and deal with grief. My father had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer – after the initial shock two things happened.

Firstly, my father didn’t die in 4 months as we had been told; he fought the disease for another five years. This left my father and I time to resolve some of our long held disputes and disagreements (though not all of them!) and grow a little closer. Secondly, I found that I was grieving his death before he had even passed away, but I didn’t know how to grieve. Our nation and culture don’t do grief very well at all, as I discovered. 

We don’t know how to speak about it, what to do, or how to deal with the natural process of grieving that lasts for a variable number of years. So I embarked on finding a story, a style and a play that could evoke a space in which the audience could share in the feelings of love, loss and bereavement – rather than feel alone or isolated. 

Translunar Paradise was that play, a non-verbal production that expressed everything I had hoped to communicate – without words. This seemed fitting to me, as my experience of grief for the most part, involved not knowing how to speak about it – but feeling so much.


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

I think its one of the best spaces. Theatre can evoke the kind of visceral, passionate debate that can only come from having seen a live performance. It needs to be encouraged, but if an audience are invited to speak, to discuss and interact about something they have just watched, it often results in a very fulfilling conversation. 

There’s also something unique about this type of debate in that it captures a feeling of community so often lost nowadays – whilst you can express your individual opinion, you are acutely aware of the collective of people who experienced the same show, yet may have different points of view – and this naturally challenges everyone present. Social media, TV – even cinema, often involves the expression of ideas in isolation from one another, ideas and opinions that are not necessarily informed by other peoples views – that create a feeling of wanting to be heard or read or seen, without necessarily having to truly engage or interact with another persons viewpoint. 

The nature of debate and being impacted and learning from other people’s insights is lessened. Or reduced to angry exchanges on twitter in which 140 characters cannot properly express or capture the human interaction born of profound communal debate. Of course that’s my point of view and I invite anyone reading to disagree and debate this with me…

How did you become interested in making performance?
For a long time I was torn between painting, music and song writing, and theatre. But I found that theatre captures all of my passions – directing is like the collaborative composition of a live and constantly moving painting, all theatre that we make involves music and song, musicality and rhythm, and theatre itself is the art form of the imagination and therefore limitless in its possibility – which I love. 

Having always loved theatre since a young age, a few moments converged that convinced me it was what I had to do. Seeing Complicité’s Caucasian Chalk Circle and Theatre O’s The Argument –discovering Jacque Lecoq’s pedagogy and physical theatre making school in Paris (and deciding I had to train there) – and understanding I didn’t have to define myself as ‘actor’ or ‘writer’ or ‘director’ as you’re encouraged to do in the UK, you could play all of these roles and more!


Is there any particular approach to the making of the show?
For me and for Theatre Ad Infinitum we set ourselves the aim of making something completely different each time we begin creating a play, and we usually always devise and make theatre through improvisation. This is very exciting, each time we’re entering into the unknown, but its also terrifying, as it’s a risk. 

With Translunar Paradise I had never made a mask and mime show before, and making one about grief definitely raised a few eyebrows – I didn’t know if it would work, it was an instinct I was following. Not only that, but although I had trained in mask at the Lecoq School, I had had an idea about the masks being hand-held so that we could easily remove them and put them back on again as the story (which moves in time from an 80 year old couple in the present day back to the past and stories of their 60 year marriage together). 

There was no examples of such a mask I draw from, so we had to understand, discover and find out how to play such masks and tell a story with them from scratch. Its very challenging, but I love it.


Does the show fit with your usual productions?
As all of our shows strive to be completely different, it fits perfectly in that its nothing like any of our other shows to date!

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

At the risk of sounding cheesy, the honest answer to this question is: I hope that the audience will be moved – to think about grief, the impact of death, the joy of life and how important it is to love without the fear of loss. Love and loss are a natural part of life, as is learning how to live with these facts, its something I’m still learning how to do.

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?
I always focus on the story I’m telling and finding a style that can tell the story in the most powerful and effective way. We never take our audiences for granted and always put our plays through a vigorous process in which audiences are invited in to the room/theatre to watch and give feedback on the performance at roughly three stages, sometimes more, of our staggered 12-15 weeks of rehearsal (usually we’ll make work in period of 4-5 weeks finishing with a showing, take a break and then continue). 

We ask for honest feedback and tell them not to hold back – as we see it as such a valuable way to learn how the play is perceived. Do the audience see what we hope they will see? If not why? Does it work? What bits are awful? Did the audience understand – or – what did the audience understand? 

These are some of the questions we ask, and we take many notes. Then after a period of time in which we digest this information, we make plans and go back into rehearsal. Of course, even this process doesn’t guarantee the outcome, its success or enable any true control over shaping an audiences experience – but it keeps our feet on the ground, keeps us humble and stops us forgetting that theatre is both for an audience and unable to exist without one.

The production won multiple awards in the UK and abroad, including Mervyn Stutters’ Pick of the Fringe, the Brave New World Award and Audience Award at the Sarajevo MESS Theatre Festival in Bosnia & Herzegovina, the Best Theatre Direction Award at ACT Festival Bilbao Spain, The Argus Angel Award, Brighton Festival 2012, The Netherlands’ Wijkjury First Prize Award 2014 and The Observer Iron Man Award for actress and musician Kim Heron.

George Mann said, “I'll never forget the first performances of this piece and the response of audiences. Translunar came from such a personal impulse - my father was dying of lung cancer and I felt that I was living in a country and a culture that didn't offer me a way to deal with my grief - the grief I felt knowing he would die; the grief I felt when he died. From this feeling I set about making this show of love, loss and letting go. Sadly my father passed before we completed and premiered the production. But the response was heart-warming - the show created what I can only describe as a communal space of grief - a place in which people could share in a feeling of loss and profound love. It was extraordinary. As were the stories audience members shared with us after every show. It was a humbling and unforgettable experience and I look forward to sharing this show once more.”

A company whose work shifts in style as they explore each new subject, Theatre Ad Infinitum are showcasing several of their hit productions this year for the company’s 10th anniversary. Odyssey also returns to the Pleasance at Edinburgh Festival Fringe, following the return of Light to Battersea Arts Centre in June. Bucket List, the company’s new production for 2016, garnered critical acclaim, a Spirit of the Fringe Award, and enjoyed a London premiere at BAC where it was nominated for an Offie for Best Ensemble before an extensive UK tour. Co-Artistic Director George Mann also directed Medea at Bristol Old Vic in May.

Theatre Ad Infinitum is an international ensemble of theatre-makers based in Bristol, UK, that develops new and original theatre for diverse audiences. Led by Co-Artistic Directors, Nir Paldi and George Mann, the group has been creating and touring critically acclaimed, award-winning productions for 10 years. Theatre Ad Infinitum’s mission is to create theatre that examines social and political themes through innovative storytelling and bold experimental styles, making something completely different each time. The company has recently become and Associate Artist at Bristol Old Vic and is an Associate Artist Alumni at Bush Theatre (2011-2013) The Lowry (2011-2017) and Redbridge Drama Centre (2009-2017).

Bumping Dramaturgy: Buckle Up @ Edfringe 2015

Andrew Hollingworth is the writer and one of the actors in Bump. 

The Fringe

GKV: What inspired this production: did you begin with an idea or a script or an object?Andrew Hollingworth: The inspiration for Bump came from a few different sources. I started with an idea where two characters speak their hidden thoughts to the audience throughout dialogue they have with one other. 

Then I began writing a sketch about a guy and a girl who 'Bump' (in cars). He was really angry about it and she's really apologetic. I thought about what hidden thoughts they could have that would be funny and relevant to scene. 

 Midway through this sketch I allowed the characters to realise that they were attracted to the other and had them tell the audience in unison. From then on I decided to enhance the style of overlapping dialogue until the entire scene was like a tennis match of internal and external thoughts.

Over the next couple of years I became really interested in physics, particularly theories to do with entangled particles. This basically states that two particles can become connected and influence each other. Even if they are millions of miles apart they seem to be able to communicate and behave as one. I thought this would be a nice metaphor for my characters Eliana and Ian: when two people collide can their lives become entangled? Suddenly I was able to turn my sketch into a story.


Why bring your work to Edinburgh?
The main reason for Buckle Up Theatre is that we want people to see our work. As a company our main goal is to make theatre that entertains people and where's better to entertain people with a fringe show than at the largest fringe festival in the world.

It would be fair to say that as a new company with young actors and writers we are also looking for exposure. To network with producers, press, directors is crucial to the development of Buckle Up Theatre as we wish to tour our shows after Edinburgh.


What can the audience expect to see and feel - or even think - of

your production?
Bump is incredibly fast paced. Not only in its overlapping dialogue but also physically...let's just say that the actors are sweating after two minutes. The audience will also be taken by surprise on more than one occasion. The plot itself is full of twists and turns and the emotional journey the characters take is shared with the audience.

On the whole, I think people will enjoy seeing something that is unique in its style; something that encourages the audience to become a part of the characters' lives rather than just observers.


The Dramaturgy Questions

How would you explain the relevance - or otherwise - of dramaturgy within your work?
The actual words on the page for Bump are extremely complicated. The script is filled with lines spoken at the same time, overlapping single words, asides spoken to the audience, dialogue overlapping with asides and not forgetting plenty of movement and simultaneous actions. When writing the play I have had to be very consistent in my formatting to make sure it can be understood when read. 

The nature of Bump means that there isn't much room to interpret lines in your own way as an actor. It relies so much on timing that the whole play becomes like a dance. If, for example, you spoke one line too quickly, it could mean that an overlap in dialogue is missed. Much like in a dance where if one person takes a step to quickly you could step on your partner's foot.


What particular traditions and influences would you acknowledge on your work - have any particular artists, or genres inspired you and do you see yourself within their tradition?
A huge part of the play are the asides, breaking the fourth wall to talk directly with the audience. This of course is an ancient theatre technique and was popular with Shakespeare and restoration comedies.


As with the physical side of Bump, the piece is probably best described as modern clowning. With many scenes in Bump, the characters share the same space but are in completely separate places. An example of this is where the two characters are watching TV. 

It has been staged to look as though they are watching each other. The sound coming from the television then becomes relevant to what they are doing. For example, the character Ian drops his phone and Eliana's TV says "It's a fumble!" This is similar to techniques used by Jacques Tati in his film Playtime.



Do you have a particular process of making that you could describe - where it begins, how you develop it, and whether there is any collaboration in the process?
I always start with a script and then workshop it. Our theatre company has a very collaborative process. The three of us who run it are all acting graduates and so it is easy for us to read scripts and hear them out loud. This of course leads to a realisation if a scene is working or not. Ideas are thrown about and then I'll go back and rewrite.

What do you feel the role of the audience is, in terms of making the meaning of your work?
The audience are a part of the characters. Their role is to be the force that entangles them. In plenty of theatre, audiences side with characters. One person might think 'He's right' and 'she's wrong' another may think the opposite. 

In Bump the audience are put on both sides as they hear both characters' hidden thoughts. Although they may disagree with what a character does, they have been a part of the decision made by them.

Lost and Found and Wounded

I've been rereading Lester Bangs' Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung, part of my research into the history of criticism for the Young Critics course at Tramway. Hoping to find some kind of style guide for my vision of Radical Subjectivity, I was disappointed by Bangs' writing: it tends to the adolescent, a match for the energy of the garage rock that Bangs adored, but wearing its influences too clearly on the sleeve - Kerouac, Burroughs' more coherent passages and that's about it. 

Whether Bangs could have thrived in the era of  MTV is a moot, given his entry into the they-died-too-young pantheon of rock: such unabashed romanticism, however, would have struggled to deconstruct the corporate take-over of rock that had already happened by his death in the early 1980s.

Thanks to my Radio Hour, I have challenged myself to go beyond theatre - I am becoming a cultural critic these days. And part of this mutation is expressed in a slightly creepy fixation on "youth music". I've been standing in the corner of the disco again, watching the bright young things groove to tunes that sound like something I liked when I was a teenager.

I have recognised my own subjectivity, and so end up being generous to bands that, frankly, I really don't understand. Found have been touted by The Skinny as some sort of art-rock saviours: people I trust have told me that I'd dig their artistic associations. They certainly got some cash from Creative LandScot, and they have just released a single made out of chocolate. So, they must be artists, right?

I played them on the Hour, but can't exactly remember what the tunes sounded like. Last week, I went to see them live at the aftermath of a special showing of You Instead - filmed over 2010's T in the Park, it wastes both Gavin Mitchell and Cora Bissett by forgetting that a witty script is necessary, even for a gimmick based movie. A week later, and I still can't remember what Found sound like, only that their electronic aspect consisted of one underused keyboard, the guitar picked out a ghost version of Godspeed You Black Emperor's majestic rush and that the singer invested his lyrics with serious intent by pulling a face.

Edinburgh leaks bands like this all the time - rather than fusing diverse genres, they blur the boundaries into a bland broth - and they seem to serve a particular audience - young, hip and serious. 

The chocolate single is a typical trick. Yes, I am sure it says something about the nature of pop, disposability and consumerism. And since the idea is far more interesting than the thing itself, it ticks a few conceptual art boxes. I know that the audience are supposed to do the work these days, that it's not all about the object. But the best thing about this little trick is that even the sucker who buys it won't actually have to listen to the music.

While I am not claiming that Wounded Knee would agree with my sentiments, I am going to set him up as my antidote to Found. First of all, every time he performs, it is something unique. Whether he is singing along to his grandfather's tape recording of "dhu-wop", or encouraging the hipsters of SWG3 to join in an old walking song, Wounded Knee is fresh, fun and provocative. That his voice has the richness of an old folk singer, and the passion of a soul man, only disguises the artful intelligence beneath his restless performances. Unlike Found, who proudly proclaim their artiness.

Listening to Wounded Knee is a surface delight, but slowly reveals deeper pleasures. He can work an audience kindly, breaking that old fourth wall and reminding them how they too are part of the show. He draws the link between Scottish folk and US soul - something that once inspired Scottish rock, but was always mystifyingly oblique. His musical family tree makes sly jokes about language, influence and identity. And more than any other musician working today in Scotland, he reaches the soul.

Found dress up like gentleman fops - a look that was pulled off better by comedy rapper Mr B at the Fringe, or by Chris Eubank, who ripped it from early UK hip-hop - in a self-conscious attempt to invest their music with presence. 

Wounded Knee just gets up and sings, and  recalls Greil Marcus' meditation on The Mekons' Never Been in a Riot. Marcus called this the most punk recording ever, because it just relied on the human voice, reducing the rage to a spectral moaning.

Now, for all my moaning about Lester Bangs, I have a fair idea which artist he'd prefer. Found seem to work very hard to make a minor point; Wounded Knee busts open all sorts of ideas about rock'n'roll by just standing on stage. Maybe, had Bangs lived, Wounded Knee might have helped him become the writer he is imagined to be.

Lost and Found

I've been rereading Lester Bangs' Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung, part of my research into the history of criticism for the Young Critics course at Tramway. Hoping to find some kind of style guide for my vision of Radical Subjectivity, I was disappointed by Bangs' writing: it tends to the adolescent, a match for the energy of the garage rock that Bangs adored, but wearing its influences too clearly on the sleeve - Kerouac, Burroughs' more coherent passages and that's about it. Whether Bangs could have survived to write about MTV is a moot, given his entry into the they-died-too-young pantheon of rock: such unabashed romanticism, however, would have struggled to deconstruct the corporate take-over of rock that had already happened by his death in the early 1980s.

Thanks to my Radio Hour, I have challenged myself to go beyond theatre - I am becoming a cultural critic these days. And part of this mutation is expressed in a slightly creepy fixation on "youth music". I've been standing in the corner of the disco again, watching the bright young things groove to tunes that sound like something I liked when I was a teenager.

I have recognised my own subjectivity, and so end up being generous to bands that, frankly, I really don't understand. Found have been touted by The Skinny as some sort of art-rock saviours: people I trust have told me that I'd dig their artistic associations. They certainly got some cash from Creative LandScot, and they have just released a single made out of chocolate. So, they must be artists, right?

I played them on the Hour, but can't exactly remember what the tunes sounded like. Last week, I went to see them live at the aftermath of a special showing of You Instead - filmed over 2010's T in the Park, it wastes both Gavin Mitchell and Cora Bissett by forgetting that a witty script is necessary, even for a gimmick based movie. A week later, and I still can't remember what Found sound like, only that their electronic aspect consisted of one underused keyboard, the guitar picked out a ghost version of Godspeed You Black Emperor's majestic rush and that the singer invested his lyrics with serious intent by pulling a face.

Edinburgh leaks bands like this all the time - rather than fusing diverse genres, they blur the boundaries into a bland broth - and I wouldn't mind if they weren't getting funding off LandScot. The chocolate single is a typical trick. Yes, I am sure it says something about the nature of pop, disposability and consumerism. And since the idea is far more interesting than the thing itself, it ticks a few conceptual art boxes. I know that the audience are supposed to do the work these days, that it's not all about the object. But the best thing about this little trick is that even the sucker who buys it won't have to actually listen to the music.

While I am not claiming that Wounded Knee would agree with my sentiments, I am going to set him up as my antidote to Found. First of all, every time he performs, it is something unique. Whether he is singing along to his grandfather's tape recording of "dhu-wop", or encouraging the hipsters of SWG3 to join in an old walking song, Wounded Knee is fresh, fun and provocative. That his voice has the richness of an old folk singer, and the passion of a soul man, only disguises the artful intelligence beneath his restless performances. Unlike Found, who proudly proclaim their artiness.

Listening to Wounded Knee is a surface delight, but slowly reveals deeper pleasures. He can work an audience kindly, breaking that old fourth wall and reminding them how they too are part of the show. He draws the link between Scottish folk and US soul - something that once inspired Scottish rock, but was always mystifyingly oblique. His musical family tree makes sly jokes about language, influence and identity. And more than any other musician working today in Scotland, he reaches the soul.

Found dress up like gentleman fops - a look that was pulled off better by comedy rapper Mr B at the Fringe, or by Chris Eubank, who ripped it from early UK hip-hop - in a self-conscious attempt to invest their music with presence. Wounded Knee just gets up and sings, and  recalls Greil Marcus' meditation on The Mekons' Never Been in a Riot. Marcus called this the most punk recording ever, because it just relied on the human voice, reducing the rage to a spectral moaning.

Now, for all my moaning about Lester Bangs, I have a fair idea which artist he'd prefer. Found seem to work very hard to make a minor point; Wounded Knee busts open all sorts of ideas about rock'n'roll by just standing on stage. Maybe, had Bangs lived, Wounded Knee might have helped him become the writer he is imagined to be.

Pixel Dramaturgy: Clare Bayley @ Edfringe 2017

Metta Theatre

Presents

Pixel Dust

Assembly Roxy 

Aug 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, 17, 19, 21, 23, 25, 27

This August, as we look back on 70 years of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, Metta Theatre is looking to the future with two new plays exploring digital identity and our often problematic relationship to screen technology.

World premieres Pixel Dust and Wondr both star esteemed TV and stage actor Simone James at Assembly Roxy. The plays are part of Assembly's ‘FuturePlay’ a curated season within the Festival exploring all things digital.

LISTING INFORMATION

Venue:  Assembly Roxy, Upstairs / Central / Downstairs, Snug Bar, 2 Roxburgh Place, EH8 9SU 

What was the inspiration for this performance?

When you are young, part of growing up is about trying out different identities to see if they fit. But now with the online world, you can literally invent different personas and reach out to people you wouldn’t otherwise meet. So I was interested to explore what this means when you’re trying to figure out who you are, and whether it can help or hinder the process. 

The whole question of young people and the internet is a very live one at the moment - there’s a lot of moral panic around teenagers being addicted to screens and all the dangers of the virtual world. As a parent myself I’m often anxious about these questions. So it was great to be able to talk to some very authoritative scientists to find out more about the actual research findings. Which are very different from what the Daily Mail would have us believe!

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

It’s a brilliant space, firsty because it is an empathic art form, and so you can take the debate into much deeper and more meaningful territory than you can in any other discussion space. It has an ability to externalise internal impulses, and confront people with their feelings and prejudices. And secondly because it is a public space - the audience has to physically be there, and sit in the dark with their thoughts and emotions next to other people having similar or different responses. Then they can go off into a bar and talk about it over a drink.

How did you become interested in making performance?

Predictably, at school and at uni I wanted to act. But I’ve always been a writer, really and wasn’t any good at acting. Then I realised that what I wanted from the acting was the collaborative nature of theatre, and I could get that as a playwright. I pity poor novelists and poets who have to spend all their time alone and never get to work in a company of actors, or with directors, designers & stage managers.

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

It’s been a lovely process, starting with a lot of research on my part, talking to young people, scientists, parents and - inevitably - researching online. We were then lucky enough to have a week’s workshop to try out ideas, both in terms of the dramaturgy, and the technical aspects such as projections and the use of screens within the show. Throughout, we wanted to challenge people’s preconceived ideas, especially about the ‘evils’ of the internet. This included confronting my own prejudices quite a bit! There are dangers, certainly, for all of us - but there are also huge benefits.

Does the show fit with your usual productions?

My work is usually informed by research - I used to be a journalist so I’m interested in responding to the world. But for this play in particular I then tried to forget the research, and write in a way which was true to my character, Ella, rather than trying to push any particular message. I’ve never written a  solo show before - to be honest I’d always been a bit scared to. But I recently co-wrote a book about playwriting, Playwriting, A Writers’ and Artists’ Companion, with the playwright Fraser Grace. He wrote a brilliant chapter on writing a one person play so I felt I was ready for the formal challenges!

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

I hope it will be a beautiful and moving piece of theatre which will make people think again about their relationships with screens.

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?

There’s nothing more boring than watching somebody engrossed in a screen. But there’s nothing more engrossing than the internet. So I had to find ways to dramatise the allure of cyberspace, while not letting the audience completely off the hook about getting sucked into that world and forgetting about the real, live, present world we are in.

Clare Bayley

Playwriting, An Artists’ and Writers’ Companion, co-written with Fraser Grace, published by Bloomsbury.

https://bayleyclare.wordpress.com/

Of Pixel Dust, Clare Bayley says: ‘Like everyone I enjoy, resent and depend on the screens in my life in equal measure. As a parent I rail against but collude with the hold they have over our teenagers. So it was very salutary to be able to interrogate the question with the benefit of dispassionate science - the results were surprising.’

No stranger to the stage, the versatile Simone James is thrilled to be tackling two such challenging roles - In Pixel Dust she plays Daniella - a 15 year old schoolgirl escaping online to avoid her real-world problems. ‘I feel blessed to have the honour of bringing these thought provoking and culturally relevant plays to life. It’s such a welcome challenge to simultaneously tackle two such different and complex characters.’ 

Metta Theatre have developed both plays in collaboration with Oxford University’s Dr Andrew Przybylski award-winning Science Writer and Guardian Correspondent Professor Pete Etchells - both Psychologists whose work explores the impact of screen time and gaming. The project is supported by a Small Arts Award from the Wellcome Trust. The Wellcome Trust is a global charitable foundation dedicated to improving health. They provide more than £700 million a year to support bright minds in science, the humanities and the social sciences, as well as education, public engagement and the application of research to medicine. www.wellcome.ac.uk

Behind the Dramaturgy: Go Theatre @ Edfringe 2017

GO Theatre Company - supported by Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism of Korea

Behind the Mirror

UK Premiere 

Hugely successful a cappella musical representing Korea at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe grew from humble origins as a drama school project to an international hit 

C Venues (+1), 2 – 28 Aug 2017 (not 14), 15.55

Performed without set, lighting changes or sound design, GO Theatre Company’s award-winning a cappella musical is created entirely by its performers, who perform impressive acrobatic feats while simultaneously singing. 


Performed in Korean with English subtitles, Behind the Mirror tells the story of Yeoni, a princess’ maid, who steals her mistress’ belongings (including a prized mirror) and runs away to a cave the forest, developing a rich fantasy existence with Yaseng, a boy who has grown up in the forest. 

Yeoni happily pretends that she is the princess and teaches Yaseng to live like a normal human-being, but when she is discovered by spies seeking her and the stolen mirror her fantasy and her crime begin to unravel.

1. What was the inspiration for this performance?

It all started from the school workshop. Our professor gave us the assignment to express sounds in nature with human voices. I thought it would be more fun to combine the sound with the movement along with a little story, and I did it. I saw the potential of this musical when I saw my professor’s astonished and excited face.

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

I think it is more relevant these days as it has a message that tells you to find “true yourself” rather than imitating someone else. Many people these days try to become someone else forgetting who they really are as the media has been developed significantly giving us so many stories about cool others. I guess it is the period that we all need more support for true ourselves.

3. How did you become interested in making performance?

I worked on this performance for the graduation project with my friends who studied the human body movements together. As it is made with actors’ voice and movements, it was easy to deliver no matter where we go. We decided to visit places where people don’t usually have opportunities to experience shows like this. As it started to get good reviews, we made it as a long-term project.

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

One very important thing only, “No matter what, actors’ voices and movements ONLY!”

5. Does the show fit with your usual productions?

Every time we make shows, we use different materials, stories and ideas. Every show is different in our company. This show has its own uniqueness and values.

6. What do you hope that the audience will experience?

I hope the audience would think that every one of our life is all invaluable and it is not comparable to any others. Furthermore, I hope that people would feel the fundamental value and necessity of the actor’s voice and movement in theatre via this particular format of the show.

7. What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?

All the places that the actors see, All the sounds that the actors hear, All the songs that the actors sing, Everything will be created by the performers’ bodies and voices. This genuine and honest way to perform was our first strategy, and will not be changed after all.

The show started as a school project by at the Korean National University of the Arts, and went on to tour nationally and internationally; it will be presented in the UK for the first time at this year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe.

With bodies arching, curling and stacked in pyramids to create impressive visual images – all while the entire company sing, scat and create delicate soundscapes – Behind the Mirror make a beautiful immersive story for people of all ages, inspired by the traditional Korean tale of the princess PyeongGang who turns an ordinary man into a general. 

After successful runs in Daehakro (Korea’s West End), Behind the Mirror was selected as the closing act for the 2005 Busan International Play Festival, and toured Korea winning The Young Director’s Award, Best Director Award and Best Actress Award at the Milyang Summer Performing Arts Festival. 

In 2006 the show sold out its run at the Arko Theatre in Seoul, then had its first international tour in Yienbien, China as a part of an international cultural programme hosted by the ministry of Culture & Tourism followed by a successful US debut in LA and New York in 2008. 

With an average age of 29, most of the company graduated from the prestigious Korean National University of the Arts. Behind the Mirror started off as a school project at KNUA with a production budget of £750, but has now toured Korea extensively, beginning in small rural areas and finally reaching a national and international standing. 

GO Theatre Company’s Behind The Mirror is part of a showcase of Korean shows at the 70th Edinburgh Festival Fringe, supported by Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism of Korea - consisting of MEDEA on media, Behind the Mirror, TAGO: Korean DrumⅡ, Mind Goblin and SNAP. 

GO Theatre Company was named after the young company’s desire to ‘go’ to where their work is needed, rather than sitting and waiting for an audience to come to them. 

Since its first performance in Seoul in 2004, the company has reached out many culturally alienated rural villages and towns in Korea bringing diverse cultural experiences to the region. GO is currently performing a number of new experimental productions in Seoul including the play Judo Boy and New generation’s 100 minute discussion.
Suitable for all ages
Company Information
Basis / Directed by Joonho Min Written by Enui Choi
Composed by Sunrak Noh Produced by Insuk Jung & Hyukwon An
Line-produced by Ginny Kim

Cast
Yeoni Yoojung Kim Yaseng (Wild Boy) Hyunjin Ma
Sara/Pyeong-gang Ji-Hae Rhee Lai / Ondal Inyoung Kang
Soldier 1 Ji Hee Hong Soldier 2 Kyungwon Yang
Storyteller Yewha Seo Jin/Percussion Wonseok Cho

Listings information
C Venues (+1), Adam House, Chambers Street EH1 1HR (Venue 34)
2 – 28 Aug (not 14), 3.55pm – 5pm, Previews 2-4 Aug
Previews 2 - 4 Aug: £10.50 (£8.50 concs, £6.50 under 18s)
5-8, 12-13, 19-20, 26-28 Aug: £12.50 (£10.50 concs, £8.50 under 18s, 2for1 available 7-8 Aug)
9-11,16-18, 23-25 Aug: £11.50 (£9.50 concs, £7.50 under 18s)
15, 21-22 Aug: £10.50 (£8.50 concs, £6.50 under 18s)
www.cthefestival.co.uk | 0845 260 1234
Supported by Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism of Korea.