Acting Alone Dramaturgy: Ava Hunt @ Edfringe 2016

     Acting Alone       Just Festival at St John's (Venue 127)

 Aug 9-10, 12 5.50pm

Acting Alone is inspired by the people Ava met in refugee camps in Palestine. In her unique performance style, Ava weaves together stories of immense complexity and fragile humanity with tales of her often funny and occasionally bizarre experiences of working as an actor and performing alone. Heartbreaking, witty and confronting, Acting Alone asks questions of us all – can one person make a difference? And what are we willing to risk? 

In its exploration of the complex situation faced by those living in Palestine, Acting Alone challenges the conventions audiences most often experience in theatres. It invites them to interact—to cross the dramaturgical divide and create an ending where no-one, including the performer, knows the resolution.   Paul Webb, Vice-Chair of Wirksworth and District Amnesty International Group, which commissioned the piece, said:   “it’s engaging from the outset, provocative, entertaining and motivating, and poses the question what can an individual do in the face of injustice?”  

What was the inspiration for this performance?

Going to Palestine and visiting/seeing Palestinian artists and educators was all part of making a piece of theatre based on Michael Morpurgo's children's book "The Kites Are Flying" however, I came back with more material and experiences than could possibly fit in the show of schools audiences.  But it was what happened to me out there raised so many questions I felt uneasy and was left with more questions, than answers.  So when Amnesty Derbyshire branch discussed with me about making a response to the humanitarian crises of attacks on Gaza - I realised that all those experinces and questions could be used to spark and stimulate a new piece - Acting Alone. 

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

The whole form for Acting Alone is constructed to stimulate discussion and debate - I have toured the piece for over a year now both nationally and internationally to a wide range of audiences and have received many and varied responses.  The Israeli/Palestinian conflict is so complex for many it is inaccessible and overwhelming and therefore Acting Alone is a gentle journey for an audience to whom may have very different levels of knowledge and understanding. I believe that theatre is one of the few arenas where audiences can enter into discussion as to what action can be taken.

How did you become interested in making performance?

I have been involved in developing solo performance work that touches on the conflict for the last eight years, and therefore this has been a long journey - with questions such as why would an ordinary person do something extraordinary for someone the don't know? To can one person make a difference?  

My research has involved meeting with holocaust survivors, working and campaigning for international action against the Israeli occupation of the West Bank.  

The form of the piece was inspired a range of artists including that of colleague Tim Crouch.  My director and I wanted to create a structure that would propose a re-positioning of the performer/audience relationship.  To break down the divide through subtle moments of participation.  This culminates to the end moment where no-one including myself knows how the show will finish - where the audience can cross the dramaturgical divide and participate in the resolution.

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

I worked closely with my director and dramaturg, Tilly Branson over a period of a ten months.  The process consisted of me writing, and then coming together with Tilly to test and re-write.  Tilly would then edit and craft the material.  We then piloted the performance material carefully recording audience feedback.  I then made an Arts Council application for funding to allow us to revisit the material with the audience response and continued the writing process again.  

This process of writing followed by reflection was necessary and much time was spent cross referencing and checking our material for accuracy.  However, the participatory elements of the show also continued to develop during the first leg of touring.  The piece is constructed in such a way that enables the audience to explore the question of what action we can take as an 'international community' leading one audience member to tweet: "it didn't prick my conscience it stabbed it"

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

The audience often comment that they really value my honesty and courage to explore this complex, highly emotive subject.  Some also talk about their experiences and identify with the painful dilemmas that I had.  Feedback that I have received is often complementary however, I have experienced strong opposition - one occasion  two women spoke throughout "lies, lies.." a very animated conversation amongst the audience members with the two women ensued.  However, the fact that audiences are not all of one opinion is important to ensure that this is not 'preaching to the converted' 

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?

From the beginning the audience are asked if they could help me - they are engaged with cutting up quotes with a ruler and placing them in jam jars for later in the show.  When the show starts I am in the audience and look at the empty space sharing with them that "I get really nervous"  I say that it might go wrong and maybe someone might help me if that happens, I then go onto the stage.  From this experience I then weave what happened to me in Palestine, together with folk tales, and funny stories that illustrate the ridiculous things that actors do sometimes to earn a living in contrast of being involved in direct political action. These moments of participation continue throughout until the end moment when I ask the audience if they will help me to end the show.

CTRL+ALT+DRAMATURGY: Emma Packer @ Camden Fringe

Emma Packer’s CTRL+ALT+DELETE, a play that examines domestic abuse and its reflection on our society, will be coming to Camden People’s Theatre from 8th August – 16th August as part of the Camden Fringe.

CTRL+ALT+DELETE explores the myth that mothers are all loving and protective of their children which serves to isolate us from the truth and the harsh realities of life. 

Amy Jones from Brixton is an emotionally charged girl with a strong political heart.  

She challenges the injustices of a world where war rips communities apart, equality isn’t universal and your biggest enemies are sometimes the very ones who brought you into the world. 

This highly relevant piece addresses issues including immigration, the financial crisis, 2011 riots, the war on terrorism and the housing crisis.  

What was the inspiration for this performance?

I wanted to explore and draws parallels between control and abuse of power within a domestic setting and in the wider society from the Government, Media and the Police.  

CTRL+ALT+DELETE examines the myth that all mothers are loving and protective of their children which serves to isolate us from the truth and the `harsh realities of life.   The show addresses the subject of female violence.  I feel society has a skewed perception of this subject.  Whether it is female on female or female on male violence, this kind of violence is rarely addressed although we know it goes on.   I have known quite a few people that have suffered mental and/or physical abuse at the hands of a wife, girlfriend or a mother.  I hope that CTRL+ALT+DELETE can help raise awareness around a very important subject matter. 

CTRL+ALT+DELETE intertwines two very different worlds and shows that maybe things aren’t as different as they first appear.

How did you go about gathering the team for it?

The nature of it being a one woman show means it’s a very small team. I have written the play and I will be performing in it as well.  I had previously taken a version of CTRL+ALT+DELETE up to the Edinburgh Festival in 2014 that Katherine Hayes directed.  Katherine kindly agreed to be on board for the re-write of CTRL+ALT+DELETE and I’m very excited to be working with her again.

How did you become interested in making performance?

I have always admired the work of Jimmy McGovern, Lynda La Plante, Alan Bennett, Mike Leigh, Ken Loach and Shane Meadows.  They have been a massive inspiration creatively and personally. 

Was your process typical of the way that you make a performance?

My research has always involved a lot of people watching and listening to different people’s life experiences. 

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

I am hoping the audience are challenged emotionally and leave the theatre deep in thought and/or discussion. 

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?

When I go to the theatre I like to watch plays that not only make me think but show me a different perspective on a certain subject matter.  I’m not sure I adopted any specific strategy but I hope CTRL+ALT+DELETE gives the audience a different perspective.

Do you see your work within any particular tradition?


I don’t personally.  However if anyone does feel it fits within a particular tradition, I would be interested to hear. 

I'm Uneasy... Not Like Sunday Mornings...

Never let it be said that I can let things go. After the generous response to my article in which I bemoaned my inability to enjoy populist theatre, I've come up with more self-indulgent and pompous thoughts.

Can we blame media structures?

It was probably inevitable that I would blame other critics for my failures - I suggested that reviewing was becoming a synopsis with adjectives, with a lack of detailed argument.

To be fair, this isn't all criticism, and it is not just print criticism that does this. I ripped off a piece by Catherine Love last week, and it had plenty of detail, historical knowledge and sharp analysis. While I am sympathetic to the idea that the minimal space given to theatre criticism in newspapers can encourage 'potted reviews' (and that the pressure of on-line immediacy discourages expansive writing (TL;DR)), it does not necessarily mean that reviews are always cursory. I generalised from a specific instance because I have a vague idea that reviews are getting briefer.

So, the structures of the media are a factor, but not the whole story. What is regarded as acceptable as a review might be, though.

This might have been an attempt to address the moaning about critics and their role which kicked off after that Stage article. 

Who the hell are you to judge?

I admit that I have been guilty of lazy reviewing. If I wanted to, I could present a list of 'bad practices' taken from my own work. So, yeah, I'm a hypocrite. However, I do suffer from regular and painful abscesses, which can be regarded as a punishment. It's no excuse, but feel free to relish the thought of Mr Academic Big Shot here whining like a baby.

What's wrong with populism?

Nothing. Please don't apologise for liking something just because I don't find Diderot's theories in it. Part of my conflict comes from the disjuncture between my opinion and the majority response. I'm working out how to recognise that difference without surrendering my opinions or being patronising. 

I could point to my long and tedious history of criticism, and mention that I have very... distinctive tastes. For those who follow criticism, that's a bonus.  For those who don't, who surf onto my opinions, I'm a guy with a stick up his ass (see previous point).

No, what's wrong with populism?

It permits weak productions to get away with shoddy theatricality. I approve Our Ladies for not over-sexualising the young women (the costumes never went Britney, for example). But I also worry that the presentation of working class lives - and frankly, given that the play ends with one girl still in conflict over her sexual desire and another pregnant, pretty difficult lives - for entertainment is problematic. 

I'll wind myself into a knot here. I struggle with political theatre, and the self-awareness of Our Ladies' heroines is admirable... but I couldn't help but think: this is a play about young women who are being fucked over by an economic system that limits their options and aspiration. Yet, at the end, they sing some Bob Marley and every little thing's gonna be alright. 

These particular anxieties - theatre as valve for frustrations, the working class as a vaudeville routine - applies to serious agit-prop, too. And, like my relationship to 27 and Iphigenia in Splott, it is unresolved. 

Unlike populist theatre, I'm uneasy.

Hanging @ The Tron

Roger Casement was 'on the right side of history'. As a revolutionary for Irish independence, and a homosexual who, in Peter Arnott's play, refuses to apologise for his orientation, he becomes more a victim of early twentieth century attitudes than the traitor he is called by the British state. The double 'crimes' he committed, a century later, would not be prosecuted today. The incriminating diary of his sexual activity, used by British Intelligence to discredit him, would probably be a best seller.

Arnott is too subtle a writer, however, to make a simple, ironic tragedy about a man out of time. Using a basic structure - two men are locked in verbal battle - his script teases out the complexity of political action, questions of honour and the thin line between idealism and violence.

Given Casement's rehabilitation after his death (he counts among the martyrs who died for an independent Ireland), his characterisation is strikingly ambiguous. His initial honesty and display of moral integrity - refusing to lie or implicate others who may yet be innocent - gives way to duplicity in the second half. Captain Hall, representing the British state, gives reasonable justifications for Casement's arrest, spending the first hour attempting to offer the prisoner escape routes from the gallows. Hall turns vicious after he realises that Casement was involved in the organisation of the Easter Sunday uprising, and reading his explicit diary. The blend of sexual paranoia and disappointment at Casement drives Hall to violence, finally assuming the mantle of colonial oppressor.

Arnott's script is less interested in the hallowed hero and imperial

stereotypes than the complexity of his protagonist's life. Casement's work in Africa (which he regards as a financial deal with the oppressive empire) made him a dashing Victorian hero, the inspiration for Conrad's Heart of Darkness and a dream-like interlude suggests that his experiences on the continent informed his attitude towards the British Empire. Benny Young captures an edgy, nervous energy, as Casement alternates between to desire to act the gentleman and protect his fellow activists. At one moment he is apologising for inconveniencing Hall: the next, he is describing his integrity in refusing to accept money from the German state. While his execution is tragic - and as a coda taen from George Bernard Shaw implies - unnecessary, Young's performance reveals a man ready to take responsibility, and pride, in his actions.

Stephen Clyde, as Hall and a few other characters - including a brutal Irish policeman - is a foil to Young's central role, but is given a presence and intelligence by the script. His initial concern and respect for Hall may disappear in a homophobic disgust, but his sadness at the brutality caused in response to Casement's conspiracy offers a picture of a colonial warden driven by duty rather than sadism. The power is clearly tilted towards him - he regards the Irish revolutionaries as 'children' and their defeat as a necessary punishment - yet he attempts to be just, and identifies the value of Empire within its belief in justice.

The possible relationship to Scotland's own independence is unspoken - and, despite the programme notes, tangential. It's clear that the stakes were higher for Ireland in 1916 (the activists ending up executed then). Although Casement is given dignity, and drawn as both a sexual and political revolutionary, the script is far too nuanced to leave a clear moral, but rather invites continued discussion on the morality of Casement's actions.

Mark Thomas is Cuckooed

At the end of the first act, Mark Thomas comments that critics are

always wrong, even when they are nice. Consequently, you may wish to ignore everything I say and conclude that he is a charmless wanker who sees the world through a filter of cynical, leftist joylessness.

Cuckooed is divided into two clear acts: in the first, Thomas performs as his own warm-up man, giving a context to the play that forms the second half. He gives a whistle-stop tour of his activism, picking out highlights from his small acts of dissent - the successes and the failures - and weaves them skilfully around a shaggy dog tale of comedic rivalry. It establishes Thomas' persona - lacking the boorish arrogance of the stereotypical stand-up, he comes across as thoughtful, sometimes self-deprecating and politically astute. His activism, which leans towards the theatrical, aims to keep within the law, even using the law to support his campaigns. 

Despite being labelled a domestic extremist, Thomas makes his political beliefs appear friendly and humorous, and his actions are less an attack on institutions than an attempt to hold them to a higher standard. His targets, including arms dealers BAE, express his clear moral integrity and his generosity to fellow campaigners, and even the targets is admirable. 

And he can still unfurl a comic anecdote with flair and finesse.

Having set the scene, Thomas comes back in the second act with a precise purpose. Directed by Emma Callendar, Cuckooed is a 'proper play' with props, audio-visual trickery, verbatim dialogue, a soundtrack and everything. While the script follows Thomas' discursive style, it is more focussed and passionate. It tells the true story of how a close friend, a fellow activist, betrayed him and the campaign against the arms trade by spying on their group.

The narrative is tied together by Thomas' charisma and healthy doses of commentary on the issues at stake: by the finale, a video montage of people who have suffered from state or business surveillance, a case is made against the ubiquity of spying. Aside from a rigorous analysis of his own emotions, Thomas brings in testimony from other friends, and even tries to talk to his former ally.

The fusion of personal and political is effective, lending force to his attack on surveillance culture and bringing home the personal cost of political manipulation. Thomas clearly has a comprehensive and intelligent understanding of the relationship between different issues, but avoids conflating them. His attitude towards arms trading, for example, does not need the support of a Marxist analysis of capital. 

It is an exemplar of intelligent and passionate political theatre that demands attention and response.

Does Political Theatre Matter (part 3 again)

Does Political Theatre Matter (part 2, again)

Does Political Theatre Matter? (part1, again..)

Embrace @ Botanics

Vision Mechanics are firmly in the 'visual theatre' school: using puppetry and video alongside live performers, their site-specific Embrace is a gentle, comforting essay on the importance of environmental awareness that preaches softly while guiding the audience around an area of rural beauty.

At Edinburgh's Royal Botanics, the promenade takes in the night-time sights and sounds of cultivated horticulture, but questions the human relationship with the wild. Using the historical story of Amrita Devi as the basis for a meditation on how humans have opposed environmental destruction, director and performer Kim Bergasal leads the audience through an episodic spectacular.

Despite an opening scene in a protest camp - a line of tents containing conversations between the protestors and sketching out the range of environmental discussions - the politics are clear: humans ought to respect nature, and throughout history have maintained this respect in the face of aggression. Devi herself was killed hugging a tree, but her death inspired the introduction of protected woodland. The appearance of wood-spirits (aerial artists in day-glo glory) evokes the more spiritual corners of Green thought, but is performed with charm and finesse so that sentimentality never overcomes the performance.

Vision Mechanics' promiscuous use of approaches (a video from Robbie Thomson, an Indian dancer, an audio tour berating over-use of social media) ensures that there is a meandering narrative line that encourages reflection rather than emotional engagement. Bergasal does express comic worry that the police are on their trail, but Embrace  is too good hearted to dwell on the violence and conflict between protesters and businesses. Rather, it aims for the warm, if fuzzy, sentiment for nature's unspoilt value and the possibility that humans can respect it. 

In Time O' Strife

Although Graham McLaren strives intelligently to revive Joe Corrie's red flag-waving melodrama written both for and about striking Scottish miners, In Time o' Strife comes on like a perfect justification of my suspicions about Political theatre. Unsubtle, repetitive and predictable, it attempts to lend the struggle of the unions a tragic majesty, yet presents their defeat as inevitable and provides a middle-class audience with the perfect opportunity to purge those difficult emotions. 

McLaren's direction - and Imogen Knight's stompy choreography - go some way to rescuing Corrie's script from its weaknesses. Interspersing the routine loop of tragic incidents (mother's ill, the men want to give up, the boyfriend wants to be a scab, mother's ill, the men are determined, mother's dead, son's sent to prison, husband takes to drink, the boyfriend is a scab), McLaren's allusions to subsequent miners' strikes - the voice of Thatcher is as reliable as Vincent Price's voice for that authentic note of sinister horror - lend the tale a contemporary relevance. Knight's dance interludes convey the emotional tensions far more eloquently than Corrie's fake arguments, and the introduction of Corrie's poems cut to a more vigorous and immediate socialist anger.

The cast shakes a leg and the band beefs up the poems with rock arrangements - the savage The Common Man strays into punk rage, despite the polish of Jenny Reeve's vocal - and the final recitation of The International leaves no doubt as to the play's intentions. Yet it is clear from the first scene that the miners are going to lose: along with Corrie's atrocious characterisations (Jock is a worried about Bolshevik infiltration, then is suddenly shouting for a Soviet style revolution), dramatic tension and political rhetoric are drained of vitality. 

It is possible that McLaren's reworking of the script has left it so slight - he has adapted the script heavily and transferred the action from a house into a public bar - but his question in the programme 'if writers like Joe Corrie... had been encouraged... would Scottish theatre be different?' is left unanswered. Yet the trailer distils the ferocity of moments that suggest McLaren gave the production what fire it has. 

Resilience @ Out of the Blue

Resilience, the current Legislative Theatre project of Active Inquiry, is holding a big event at Out of the Blue on Saturday 11th October. 

Everyone is welcome to come and support this unique experiment in participatory policy-making! The event is free and will include theatre, food and music but booking is essential.

Despite my worries, political theatre is clearly becoming a thing in Scotland. The energy of the referendum campaign is carrying over into the fracking aftermath. 

At some point, I'll have to think about 'political performance' and 'the performance of politics'. In the meantime, I can only add my support to this event. Not only is 'resilience' one of my favourite words (it is a quality to which I aspire), but it is free and have the word 'participatory' in its description. I always worry that political theatre is 'show and tell' rather than 'get involved.'
Speaking of Resilience Gavin Crichton, Artistic Director of ACTive INquiry, says: 'We live in difficult economic times. Many community organisations are expected to do more with less resources and have to focus on surviving everyday. How can we enable these organisations to be able to become more resilient and thrive?'

The investigation seems to have started with public engagement - a reversal of the usual theatrical practice of rehearsing quietly until the Big Day comes, and the production is presented for public appraisal. The process is part of the product... the way it is made defines its outcomes (this is always true, but here is a model than breaks the fourth wall before it gets built).

'We live in difficult political times. Although a lot of language focuses on community empowerment and involving communities in decisions that affect them, this is often not seen in communities. How can communities be supported to take more control of their own assets and the decisions that affect them?'

'Over the past year Active Inquiry has been working with community organisations in Edinburgh to carry out research into the above questions. This event on 11th October will see the culmination of this research in the form of a piece of Legislative Theatre.'

'Legislative Theatre originated in South America and enables an audience to use a piece of theatre to propose and vote on new policy and laws. How can Edinburgh Council support communities and community organisations to become more resilient and thrive?'

It must be something to do with Boal and his theatre of the oppressed.

As well as the Legislative Theatre event there will also be food from World Kitchen and performances from local artists and choirs.

 Saturday 11th October 2014
4-9pm
The Out of the Blue Drill Hall, 36 Dalmeny Street, Edinburgh, EH6 8RG
Free! (although donations will be appreciated!)

For catering reasons it is essential that people book for this event. 

Alternatively you can email gavin@activeinquiry.co.uk with your name and how many tickets you would like.
A crèche will be provided but booking for this is essential. For more information please contact Gavin on gavin@activeinquiry.co.uk or 07714321629

Active Inquiry enables grassroots communities to make and use excellent theatre as a catalyst to uncover and challenge injustice. For further information visit www.activeinquiry.co.uk

gavin@activeinquiry.co.uk
www.activeinquiry.co.uk

HURRIED STEPS

“The stories are hair-raising….. It’s BEAUTIFUL work from the actors, director and designers.” (Blanche Marvin – London Theatre Review)

I have my doubts about the efficacy of political theatre.

The New Shoes production of Hurried Steps will return to London on October 20 for two special  performances hosted by the Tri-Borough Violence Against Women and Girls Strategic Partnership to mark Anti-Slavery Day.

Obviously, I doubt object to events like this.

Based on real stories, including a case of child trafficking. The play will be followed by a post-show discussion with a panel of experts who work locally, to support women as part of the European Communities Against Trafficking (ECAT) Project. The two performances at Kensington Town Hall will include a special early matinee performance to fit in with school hours. 

I moan about post-show discussions but think that they are essential (in some format) for political theatre work. 

The production which is suitable for ages 15 upwards, highlights the issue of violence against women and girls and seeks to find an answer to the problem. The company includes high-calibre actors from the stage, film and TV who tour nationally with the play. They also provide related workshops for schools and groups. 

And this company clearly go the extra mile: the package they offer is expansive and inclusive. 

“You cannot help but feel sadness at the stories, and that makes you want to go out and do something.”
(Jafa Iqbal – EXTRA! EXTRA!)

Most of the time, I worry that a political play encourages the

exact opposite: a sense that, by watching it, the audience feels it has done something and so can sleep easy. 

The new publication of the play will be available and it includes a contribution from Bianca Jagger and her Human Rights Foundation. 

And I don't care what Bianca Jagger thinks: any celebrity who supports a good cause just annoys me. Public support is an exchange, a commercial transaction. Whatever Bianca does for Human Rights, she gets a return on it - publicity, status, respect.


Hurried Steps is written by Dacia Maraini, an internationally acclaimed and award winning writer from Italy, who has spent her career addressing women’s issues. She was recently nominated for the Nobel Prize for Literature and shortlisted for the International Man Booker Prize.

In the case of feminism - whatever strand of feminism - I think it might be a matter of deep cultural change: 'women's issues' (not a phrase I can use comfortably) is not just a matter of changing a few laws. It shares with racism at least this: attitudes are where the action is. 

“...the actors, three women and two men stood behind music stands, but this was to make the drama even more powerful. And power it was. It left one numb.”
(Keith Parkins – UKINDYMEDIA)

Keith makes my point, though. 'It left one numb.'  * Numb is a terrible way to feel after seeing something. It is a lack of emotion, just like Aristotle's catharsis suggests. Still, the description is good. 

Political theatre always strikes me as a second best strategy for action: if a big demo won't stop Tony Blair going to war, a play can't do much more.

I think there might be a special situation for longer term issues, that are about changing the way that we think - but does theatre, with its liberal audiences, reach the people who need to be thinking about this stuff?

Anti-slavery action is one of the many things that I approve - and I am willing to stretch the definition of slavery to include working in Primark. I'm not saying this isn't a worthy play, but if it is judged as pure aesthetics (like, how good were the actors?), it avoids the issue. If it is reviewed as politics, it avoids the theatricality.


Small Hall, Kensington Town Hall, Horton St, London, W8 7NX.

£10 for Adults & £7 for Concessions. 

Discounts available for community and school groups.

20th October 2014 - 12.30 & 7.30



*While I am on this, this is a good example of why critic saying 'one' when they mean 'I' is dumb. Given the previous sentence - which includes 'three women and two men,' 'one' here could mean 'one of the three women' or 'one of the two men.' So apart from making Keith sound like he think's he's the queen of something, it is incoherent writing.

More On Calder Street

The Battle of Calder Street.

There has been a great deal of chat about 'political theatre' lately - mostly in my head, but some of it spilled onto Facebook. At the very least, the Referendum encouraged many artists to make a commitment to political engagement.

I am always in two minds about the worth of political performance. Partially because I am having a big row with Plato, again (I am pretty sure he disapproves of theatre as a place for public discussion), but also because I am not sure whether watching art encourages activism. It might operate as a way for audiences to think that they have done something political when they nodded to a play's urgent message. 

However, tonight, I was at the kind of political theatre I can get behind: The Battle of Calder Street. It was odd - I was involved in the events described and recognises the verbatim voices - but on the scale that I can understand. It was about the struggle in Govanhill to rescue the local swimming pool.

I literally did that and got the t-shirt.

As the play makes clear, the Save Our Pool campaign was about community. Sure, the swimming was important, but the community that rose up around the picket line  - and the political lessons we learnt - were crucial. It remains the longest occupation of a civic building in UK history (local people nipped inside and held it from the council for 141 days). 

I am always suspicious of 'big ideas': the pool campaign operated on a level to which I could relate... I met my neighbours, moaned about the government, connected to the area's history and, as I realised tonight, had a real anger towards Charlie Gordon. He was the head of the council who shut the pool.

There are many reasons why the various people who are discussing political art ought to go to see The Battle of Calder Street - and not many are aesthetic. It reveals the history (as well as theatre can, although I know some of the contours of this narrative that were not reflected) of a bold attempt by a community to get power back. Using verbatim, songs written by Alistair Hullet at the time and news reports, it explains the ambitions and atmosphere, and sets out a clear way of addressing politics in theatre. It is also performed in the building where the action happened, which lends a nice resonance.

Most importantly though, it is clear in its political aim: it recalls an action that shook Glasgow City Council, and gave power to a group of people who felt abused by the state. There's no revolution, or restructuring of reality, only a true story that ends in a defeat that can become a victory, if the lessons it offers can be heard. 

And it is a lot more messy than proclaiming on a blog, like I do now, and less glamorous than grandstanding. 

Political theatre and a few thoughts...

Both Adrienne Scullion's survey of the Glasgow Unity Theatre (Glasgow Unity Theatre: The Necessary Contradictions of Scottish Political Theatre, Twentieth Century British History Volume 13, Issue 3, Pp. 215-252) and Daniel Lapenta's critique of John McGrath's Border Warfare suggest that, on the West Coast, the connection between theatre and politics is consistent and long-standing. Scullion points out that most scholarship surrounding the GUT has emphasised its left-wing intentions, including links with the Communist Party, before pondering whether the political tensions within the company led to its eventual disintegration: Lapenta repeatedly comments that Border Warfare has a pro-nationalist slant and notes that the then Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, is presented as the latest in a long line of English tyrants who have bullied the Scots.

When Eric Karoulla pondered political theatre in the 2013 Fringe, he reflected that 'everything could be political': Michael Kirby's 1975 essay On Political Theatre attempts to deconstruct that assumption by defining politics more closely. While Karoulla continues to suggest that the very act of performing, since it requires a degree of freedom of speech, is political, Kirby is more concerned with relating 'political theatre' to dictionary definitions and questioning its impact as a form of activism (he suggests terrorism is probably more effective).

The politics of both McGrath and the GUT were expressed as the advocacy of socialist positions, and in the case of GUT and 7:84's revival of their plays, a focus on the experience of the working classes. Plays now accorded the status of modern classics (Men Should Weep, In Time o' Strife, GUT's The Gorbals' Story, which was made into a film in 1950) reflect this emphasis: perhaps, as Scullion hints, the dynamism of Scottish theatre is driven by resistance. 

The Librarian @ Newsboy

This May Hurt A Bit @ The Traverse 2014

This May Hurt A Bit feels almost old fashioned in its insistence on a political message. Harking back to the rougher edges of 1980s' agit-prop (it even has complaints about Margaret Thatcher), it repeatedly, and precisely, skewers the Conservative attack on the NHS. Through the story of one family coping with the ailments of age - and interrupted by factual or forthright sketches - it condemns the attempts of the government to sell off the NHS into an American style free market profit grab.

As crassly as the cliche I am about to use, This May Hurt pulls no punches. When Death, in his classic outfit, blames the Tories for killing the NHS, Feeney is in no mood for compromise. The main story, featuring a mother and son, various illnesses, harassed staff and an American extolling his system, is little more than a hook for meditations on PFI - a truly disgusting and stupid idea, which has effectively put future generations in hock for the sake of a few new buildings - management restructuring and and the stand-off between Bevan and Churchill.

This last battle echoes down the corridors of time - they stalk the present day, with Churchill half defending, half excusing David Cameron's strategies. While the parodies of management speak, and the formal agons around the value of health care are taut and precise, it is the scream of the nurse that captures the spirit of the script. Frustration, disappointment and a desperate urge to save what is good are summed up in a single syllable. Fuck.

This May Hurt is propaganda, and provokes anger. It is the righteous anger of the elderly, seeing their gains lost, their faith shattered and their health held to ransom. It affirms a belief in the worth of theatre as a political activity, evangelising for the consensus politics and kindness that made British healthcare the pride of that silly Olympic opening ceremony. A quiet note of optimism may end the play, but the violence of Cameron's Acts, as described, threaten no happy ending for an entire nation.

Some ideas that I stole from Eric about politics

I stole this mans ideas for this blog. 

Although Eric and I have formally divided the radio show (he does the second hour, if you want to escape my rambling and interruptions of good guests), we still argue and bicker behind the scenes. Today it has been politics and theatre. We had the statement 'all theatre is political,' and I just had to ruin a perfectly good afternoon ranting about the intrusion of the political into the private sphere.

My working definition of politics is 'the power structures that manage society,' and everything does engage with these. But if 'all theatre' 'is' 'political'  - a statement that is true, since everything is defined by those power relations, especially when they are hidden - then it begs the question: why bother making theatre if it is merely a subset of a larger field. The artist with political intentions (that is, is interested in either challenging or supporting the existing power structures) would be better off joining the Conservatives and making changes from within.

The problem is  - and note the irony of this sentence - in that word 'is.' It means too much. It suggests a straight association of theatre and politics. I want to know what 'is' means. When I am reviewing, and the certainty of using the verb 'to be' is too concrete, I can use 'seem' or 'appears.' But that doesn't work here.

All theatre might, say, represent, politics. Or reflect politics, or engage with politics - and again, I am reminded of my old pal Billy Bragg (you know, the one who did a duet with Amanda Palmer). He said 'all music is political,' and pointed out how Spandau Ballet's videos, with their glamour and fuss, were as political as his war-weary socialist anthems. Yes, all theatre does reflect the political base upon which it is constructed - that's Marxist aesthetics 101 (I think...).

But pretty clearly, that can be applied to everything - even my chats with Eric have a power structure subtext. Hopefully, that's not all that is going on - I rather hope our friendship isn't a mere facade to hide  the hegemony of communication. I think theatre is the same - and to say it is 'all... political' takes me only so far.

But the talk of political theatre actually refers to theatre that is actively engaged in discussing the power structures - there's a range of issue that make a work political. These days, it is mostly those riots in London. Given that there is that referendum coming up soon, it's odd that national identity hasn't emerged as a 'political' theme in the Fringe this year. Certainly, there has been work during the year that has considered it. But it's not getting a shout in the Fringe, and there is an article in the preview copy of Fest that questions this.

In this sense, not all theatre is political - or even represents politics. And I am back in a world where divided work into 'political' and non-political can make sense.

Fringe Blah Liberals Blah Environment Blah

This particular article might well be thuggish in tone and challenging in nature.

Being a radical subjectivist, I maintain that there is only a single issue that ought to concern everyone. It's the environment, because alone of all categories, it contains everything. There is nothing that sits outside of 'environment,' because it is another word for context. Show me a consciousness without an environment, and I'll call you an idiot.

Narrowing this down to the usual meaning of environment - nice flowers, clean air, wretched pollution and the antics of certain members of our species to either rescue or destroy the planet we have to share - and it's still crucial. Even those who have severe doubts about the environmental crises (greenhouse gases, oil spills et c) acknowledge its importance by discovering alternative theories that explain why melting polar ice caps are a good idea.

Being a radical subjectivist, I have a degree of about scepticism about all the claims made by the likes of Al Gore, and I reject the deeper green analysis that insists on the intrinsic worth of nature. But, I am equally sceptical about the counter-arguments that turn up in The Sunday Times every so often. Unlike those people who stomp about calling themselves Skeptics (the ones who combine an intelligent critique of religious statements and a childlike faith in the truth of science), I am an equal opportunities cynic.

My belief in the importance of treating the environment right is not about saving some planet from the naughty humans. Nature, like God, is something that doesn't need my help. What we usually mean by environmental crisis is that the world is becoming more inhospitable for homo sapiens. Nature has a good track record for coming back from adversity - extinction events are a regular feature of Earth's history.

Rather, the need to consider the environmental impact of our behaviour is ultimately to our own benefit (as a collective), and an expression of the human ability to make moral decisions. Even if we can keep polluting and get away with it - we might fund interstellar travel before we reduce the Earth to slag - it's worth not doing it to have a better quality of life and to exercise the moral faculties.

Now I have got that off of my chest, here's some generic moaning about liberalism. The absolute curse of the middle-classes is the ability to mistake talking about something for doing something. The environment is a winner. Everyone deplores the despoiling of the planet. Few people do anything about it.

Scum like me go one better: we preach about it and pretend that this is our contribution. Look back over my response to The Agony and Ecstasy of Steve Jobs. I believe that I did my bit to combat the exploitation of Chinese workers by reading about it on the web and writing a review.

There's a further problem: when liberals make art, they think that is addressing the issue. I agree that discussion is important, but it can't replace action. And it is important to consider whether the infrastructure of the discussion is actually contributing to the problem under consideration.

I am finally getting back to the environment and, thankfully, a little bit of theatre criticism.

A few years ago at the Fringe, a rash of plays about Green Issues wowed the crowds. Quite a few of them had that horrible liberal piety, a lecture about how bad humans are with no redeeming aesthetic qualities. The hare-brained hypocrisy, comparable to the way Al Gore jets about the world warning about excessive consumption, was too busy accusing to think about the environmental cost of putting on a play.

The NTS went some way to addressing this with their show about Polar Bears, which toured on bike and used no lighting.

However, something good has happened. Since I have had my rant, I am handing over to the press release. I like this initiative.


Applications are now opened for consideration for the 2013 Fringe Sustainable Production Award, designed to reward sustainable practice in the production of an Edinburgh Festival Fringe show. Productions are invited to engage their audiences with sustainability, take responsibility for their environmental impacts, and think big about how the arts can help to grow a sustainable world. Entries are invited from companies until 18 August, with shortlists announced on 5, 12 & 19 August and the final award being made on Friday 23 August in a ceremony at Fringe Central.

"We believe artists and cultural organisations are uniquely placed to address the challenges brought on by climate change through the art they produce," says Gemma Lawrence from Creative Carbon Scotland,"The audiences they speak to and the way in which they operate. This major award celebrates action being taken by artists and companies to use the form, content and framing of their work to engage with climate change during the Festival Fringe."

The Fringe Sustainable Production Award celebrates the best in environmentalism on the Edinburgh Fringe, and highlights the different exciting approaches Fringe productions are taking to sustainability. We're inviting all Fringe productions – whether they've just started thinking about recycling or whether they've been bike-powering venues for years – to apply for this high profile award, and to tell us the new ideas and new ways they have for engaging with sustainability

“The purpose of this award is not just to recognize the greenest production. Our objective in offering this award is to ask questions of ourselves, as theater artists, about the greater impact of our work on the world around us. The fringe model provides an ideal platform to introduce these ideas," says Wright, "The CSPA is not just another ‘go green’ organization. We hope to gather and distribute information that aids in the sustainability of the earth, the sustainability of our communities, and the sustainability of our art.”
In 2011 we worked with partners Festivals Edinburgh, the Federation of Scottish Threatre and Scottish Contemporary Art Network to support over thirty arts organisations to operate more sustainably.
We are now building on these achievements and working with over 70 cultural organisations across Scotland in various key areas including carbon management, behavioural change and advocacy for sustainable practice in the arts.
Our work with cultural organisations is the first step towards a wider change. Cultural organisations can influence public behaviour and attitudes about climate change through:
Changing their own behaviour;
Communicating with their audiences;
Engaging the public’s emotions, values and ideas.
Engage arts organisations and stakeholders in promoting environmental sustainability;
Provide support for arts organisations to be at the forefront of shaping an environmentally sustainable Scotland;
Support arts organisations, artists and audiences to be as environmentally sustainably as possible.

Okay - not that impressed by the second factor - that's giving points for the sort of grandstanding I don't approve. But the rest is okay... 

Why sustainable practice in the cultural sector?
Like all sectors, the cultural sector faces risks from climate change and the legal, social and economic changes it will bring. Much more than many other sectors, arts and cultural organisations have huge potential to provoke crucial public behaviour change. We believe cultural organisations are uniquely placed to address the challenges brought on by climate change through the art they produce, the audiences they speak to and the way in which they operate themselves.
CSPA Fringe Initiatives: http://www.sustainablepractice.org/programs/fringe/
2013 Edinburgh Festival Fringe Questionnaire: http://bit.ly/cspafringe13

Might as well be a cynic to the end: has the CSPA calculated the carbon footprint of the programme?

More Politics, Or Something (Emerging Artists, too)

Kenneth Davidson didn't so much give me the number of the beast in response to my last blog, he gave me its post code. I am always worried when I try to get political, because I know that I have friends who are far more knowledgeable than I am.

In the meantime, I did check out the speech made by Maria Miller. Ever since Rob Drummond did a version of  the Blondie number and dedicated it to the arts minister, I've been trying to get my head around the problem. I mean, she's a Tory, right? Did anyone expect her to say anything that didn't involve their catch-phrase of austerity?

The British political theatre of the 1970s, at least in the English, scripted variations, expressed a determinedly socialist intention and an almost anarchic cynicism about the antics of socialist politicians. The Labour Party is pictured as hopelessly compromised, the smaller parties as dismal cults of personality. Before the advent of punk, which fired into the raw, inarticulate alienation of the working classes, theatre was possibly the most dynamic public forum for the discussion of counter-cultural ideology. While the hippies of the 1960s settled into drug psychoses and addiction, or mellowed out over Pink Floyd’s jams, playwrights were seething.

If there is a revival of the political urge amongst young playwrights today, it is tempered by the spirit of the 1980s (Thatcher’s declaration that there is no such thing as society might be more historically prescient than her war against trade unionism, what with the reformation of ideas like “friendship” and “privacy” thanks to the Internet) and the 1990s, when Tony Blair deliberately courted the arts and, mainly in the now derided Cool Brittania phase, made them courtiers to the state. Rather than taking swipes at the figures who engage with existing political systems, there is a focus on the lives of the victims of the systems. At its best, contemporary political theatre is compassionate rather than angry.

Anger is a difficult emotion to express. It is deliberately repulsive: much of the reason for the original resistance to punk was perhaps its naked aggression. Whether The Sex Pistols were mining the incoherent anguish of personal alienation, or The Clash were making rudimentary attempts to join the political dots, punk married a conservative sound – the rough edges of noise that would later flourish in the wave of 1980s bands who regarded feedback as an instrument were more a function of musical ineptitude – with an immediate rage. If early rock’n’roll took the joyous and nervous blossoming of adolescent sexuality, punk grounded itself in the teenage temper tantrum.  

Rob Drummond is possibly marking himself out as the angriest of the new generation of Scottish theatre-makers. Both Quiz Show and Riot of Spring have scenes of disgust: the quiet meditation on child abuse that concludes the former and the karaoke tribute to Maria Miller in the latter. They swerve into the lack of focus that is often the hallmark of rage – the closing monologue of Quiz Show fails to consider why celebrities can get away with paedophilia, merely condemning it (a statement impossible to reject), and the irritation directed at the culture minister is trivial, especially in the context of a play that brings up the major disturbances that rocked London (before the Olympics restored a measure of national pride).

In both cases, however, Drummond is exploring something different from the compassion studies of his contemporaries Kieran Hurley and Gary McNair. In Rantin, Hurley offers a kaleidoscope of modern Scottish lives, only briefly tearing into the tyranny of late capitalism and containing this monologue within a broader narrative that is more interested in presenting the richness of individual’s lives. McNair’s thrilling Donald Robertson, meanwhile, is a close-up on how comedy can save a young man’s social status while destroying his moral integrity.

Drummond is harking back to the 1970s of the punks rather than the playwrights: he is doing anger as a counterblast. If it works better within The Riot, that is because the overall structure – episodic, sketchy and consciously aping a DIY production – hold the moment more carefully. The speech at the end of Quiz Show, while a more precise moral position, is disappointingly vague in a play that has a well-managed formal shape. The difference is between the script, which allows for deeper discussion, and the DIY devised show that taps into immediate energy.

The kind of detailed political analysis that can make the 1970s’ authors dated has not resurfaced in the contemporary political writers. It’s noticeable that much of the strongest political theatre has addressed matters of national identity – Alan Bissett’s Turbo Folk or Greig’s Dunsinane.

There’s a precision in these works’ understanding of the relationship between Scotland and the UK that has not been matched in the early responses to the London riots. Hurley, in collaboration with AJ Taudevin, offered Chalk Farm, a look at the experience of a rioter and their mother, an approach mirrored in Riot of Spring.  In both cases, the story was descriptive and the underlying assumptions about the reasons behind the riot were more struts for the plot and characters than the complex deconstruction Dunsinane applies to Anglo-Scottish relations.

In two senses, this isn’t important. Drummond and Hurley, and Taudevin, are all emerging artists – hardly at the first stage of their career, but not in the pomp of their glory. There’s time for them to do the analysis, probably when they become middle-aged. And it isn’t just the job of the artist to complete the discussion: the audience can get involved too. Both Chalk Farm and Riot, and Rantin et cetera provide a provocation.

Indeed, the compassion Hurley and Taudevin display in Chalk Farm sets a tone for the discussion, as well as giving a few details for the post-show arguments. Even the incompleteness has a virtue: it prevents the drama from becoming a rhetorical announcement of a definitive position. As Leonard Cohen points out, when he wasn’t boasting about sexual conquests or being a Baldy Buddhist, it’s the crack in everything that lets the light come in.