Theatre and Culture from Scotland, starring The List's Theatre Editor, his performance persona and occasional guest stars. Experimental writings, cod-academic critiques and all his opinions, stolen or original.
It’s a shame that writer Mark Ravenhill is adamant in his introduction to Ten Plagues that he wrote the libretto with Mark Almond in mind as the solo singer: Almond’s performance is the weakest aspect in a production that cleverly adapts a narrative about London’s black death into a worthy metaphor for any curse befalling a city. Almond’s star quality – evident as far back as his iconic appearance on Top of the Pops as part of Soft Cell – is not enough to hide his voice’s limited range and character, and while he revels in the lighter moments, he fails to capture the more hysterical, operatic sequences. Director and designer Stewart Laing gives Ten Plagues an agitated energy. Opting for a sparse set, he allows Almond plenty of space to inhabit, and the subtle touches of video intensify the lonely isolation of the man adrift in a city of plague. Almond is at his best in the intimate numbers, remembering a lover or guilty enjoying the extravagance of a wig, and the finale, when his voice is joined by a chorus in the audience, makes the finale a melancholic celebration of survival.
Ravenhill’s words are a poetic evocation of the paranoia, selfishness and anxiety that grips a mind in the thrall of terror: the singer is lost in a city populated by the sick, dead and frightened. Without trying to justify the behaviour of a man who is simply trying to survive, Ravenhill demonstrates a profound compassion for the victims of the Black Death and, by extension, any urban horror. A descriptions of a trip to the fish-market, replete with period detail, becomes a vivid adventure into the heart of terror, resonate of both early responses to HIV and even contemporary anguish around financial disorder. Almond is solid, but not remarkable, robbing the production of immediacy and high drama: Laing opts for an understated meditation and a triumphant end, suiting the undertow of Ravenhill’s writing and keeping Almond’s ability unexposed. Yet in avoiding the more rabid analysis of the plague, this vision of hell is a subtle reflection rather than a provocation.
The award-winning musician Mairi Campbell presents her new solo theatre show Pulse. Mairi steps out on a quest to heal ancient wounds and to “come home”. In Pulse, Mairi sings, acts, plays and dances the story of her musical homecoming and journey of the heart. Mairi weaves live viola, voice, animation, movement and storytelling with tracks from her latest groundbreaking album Pulse. The show, which is directed by Kath Burlinson, begins with Mairi feeling creatively stultified by her classical training at the Guildhall School of Music in London. She then travels to Mexico and Cape Breton before returning to Scotland to take up her bow in the traditional music scene.
In the background is her love story with her husband and musical collaborator Dave Francis, who teaches her to play her first tune by ear. Pulse is deeply touching, funny and potent. The show is a significant development in Mairi’s artistry and is performed with an incredible power, commitment and energy.
What was the inspiration for this performance? Seeing a pal who is an orchestral clarinetist doing an amazing one-woman show – bringing so much more to the table. My story was wanting to emerge and seemed to be calling a broader frame than just a gig. She inspired me.
How did you go about gathering the team for it? Pulse was funded by Creative Scotland so that meant I could pay a director and producer, which is the bedrock of the team. I asked Kath Burlinson to direct the show – we’ve worked together for a few years now and I love her work. How did you become interested in making performance? I’ve always been interested in the exchange between audience and
performer. I’ve been a musician for 30 years and played concerts across the globe, engaging with audiences in music. Kath is deeply engaged with pedagogy and process in theatre and this has made me more aware of what can happen and to ‘showing up’ on stage for the sake of the work. Being vulnerable but with a strong craft is a powerful combination. Was your process typical of the way that you make a performance? No. Normally, I work on a bunch of songs and then play a concert with ad hoc chat between them. A lot’s changed in the last few years though – live improvisations are a big thing for me these days. What do you hope that the audience will experience? Deep emotional connection to the story, both my personal one and the wider story about Scotland. Hope that’s not too much to ask!
What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience? Using the various elements that I can bring to performance, and blending them in a realist/abstract fashion. The audience gets enough of the story to know what’s going on, but experience an abstraction of events through sound and movement, which I think gives more room for personal interpretation. I’ve also been inspired by a method called InterPlay which combines movement, sound and story.
Do you see your work within any particular tradition? Maybe it’s closest to music theatre without the jazz hands…
Are there any other questions that might help me to understand the meaning of dramaturgy for you in your work? Kath Burlinson is a dramaturgist and pioneer in this work today. Her ability to extracting authentic expression is quite extraordinary and helping me, a completely untrained actress, to bring that to a show is impressive. It’s not an easy path, that’s for sure, but her approach is a good fit for me and my voice.
Mairi Campbell: Pulse premiers at Celtic Connections at the Tron Theatre, Glasgow on 27th and 28th January
Blood of the Young is a Glasgow based theatre company led by Paul Brotherston. Comprised of theatre-makers, sound artists and musicians, we make dynamic, physical work with a strong visual and sonic identity.
What was the inspiration for this performance? The music of the band primarily. Their lyrics always have striking images and bold narratives that felt theatrical, while the pop energy of a three piece rock band also felt, at a basic level, to have its own theatricality. Beyond that, I am interested in making theatre that harnesses the energy and directness of a gig. This show was to be loud, direct and pop. How did you go about gathering the team for
it? The actors in the performance all play multiple instruments, which is key, but they are regular collaborators of mine through my fledgling company, Blood of the Young. Both David James Kirkwood and Isobel McArthur were part of the cast for our co-production with the Tron Theatre, Daphne Oram's Wonderful World of Sound, which we have been making with the sound artist Anneke Kampman. The band, Golden Arm are all old friends of mine and I have known them for many years. They have all been in multiple bands but this is the first one I have felt had this sort of theatrical potential. In fact, point 5 in the band's manifesto is 'never be afraid of a bit of theatre'. How did you become interested in making performance. At Edinburgh Uni I got involved in acting and then ultimately directing. My practice has evolved through training at the royal Conservatoire of Scotland and then through my work since graduating with companies like Company of Wolves and on shows such as Lanark. Was your process typical of the way that you make a performance? It was typically scattered and messy and energetic. This was new as the band were new to theatre and the actors new to the band, so the whole meeting of pre-existing materials was interesting (songs + plays). This show began by giving several playwrights, new and established, a song each as stimulus. It was important to me that the play they wrote take its inspiration from the whole song, one line, or even simply the feeling the song gave them. Each writer had no contact with Dylan (lead singer and songwriter) so the responses varied vastly. We then set about finding ways of adding new musicians to the band and adding the band and their music into the plays, trying to make the whole thing as symbiotic as possible without compromising either individual bit of it. What do you hope that the audience will experience? our aim is to make this show feel as much like a gig as possible. I have seen shows that aim for this and don't quite achieve it and I think it is a tricky negotiation. What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience? An initial idea was that the audience would stand, as in a gig, but we thought that might be a bit unforgiving so we went with a cabaret style arrangement. An important part of the show is that all of the plays are done as direct address into mics, so there is no blocking or staging in the traditional sense. It is very presentational and involves the band as much as possible. Do you see your work within any particular tradition? There is definitely a tradition of this style of work. Brecht for a start I guess, and in Scotland we have seen plenty of companies like 7:84, Wildcat and Communicado have live music as an integral part of the work. What is different about Golden Arm Theatre Project is that it works so closely with a pre-existing band to create new theatrical work inspired by them. I also think that the pop-music style of the piece differs from the more folk-inspired work of some of these companies.
GOLDEN ARM THEATRE PROJECT Featuring Kim Allan, David James Kirkwood and Isobel McArthur (w/Golden Arm)
A gig like no other.
An eclectic mixing of live music and theatre featuring new short works by some of Scotland’s leading playwrights - Clare Duffy and Isabel Wright – all inspired by the songs of Edinburgh indie-pop band Golden Arm. Expect dancing.
