The Thrill of the Stage

Back in 2011, Brian Logan wrote in the Guardian about a couple who appeared to be on a mission to hit every West End theatre… and have sex in the stalls. Actors Alex Kingston and Rob Lowe had reported seeing the couple from the stage, “getting [their] kicks in the front row”. Quite why the couple chose to attempt this is still unknown – perhaps it was a dare, or attempting to ‘do it in public’ with the lights down, or perhaps they just really LOVE theatre. Either way, it was a bizarre, confusing, but nevertheless impressive feat to endeavour.

This raised the question of the ‘sexiness’ of theatre, which has (surprisingly) still a large number of people thinking it stuffy, old-fashioned, and uncool. But the ever more daring nature of theatre shows is highlighting the fact that two people in front of you on a stage is far more thrilling than watching a glass box. The stage, as opposed to the screen, isn’t interested in beautiful faces or perfect bodies – it highlights the physicality of relationships, the eroticism of voice, and the presence of people in front of one another.

In Spring Awakening, for example, the hayloft scene between under-age Wendla and Melchior seems even more intimate by the fact that there are audience members either side of them. Their embrace, both experimental and innocent, is private, yet completely exposed to all of us who sit on our plush seats. Whereas film can cleverly create the illusion of voyeurism with shadows and scenes shot through window frames, the theatre is the ultimate peep-show, viewed through a large proscenium arch. We the audience are given free gaze over everything and everybody.

Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical came from the 1960s hippie culture, embracing sexual revolution, drug experimentation, and an increasing resistance to the Vietnam War. Containing scenes of drug abuse, sexual freedom, and racially equal casting, it caused much controversy during its first few productions. Indeed, just before the interval, the cast flood the stage with a powerful rendition of “Where Do I Go?”, but completely naked. Men and women, all shapes and sizes, stand strong on stage with nothing to hide – somehow, seeing that on a film would not have had the impact it does when it’s right in front of your eyes. After getting over the initial unexpected nature of the scene, it becomes powerful, inspiring, and a little intimidating.

Headgame – Battling Injury

Until late last year, I wouldn’t have considered myself to be a sportsperson. In fact, climbing was the only physical activity I did willingly – all other forms of exercise I wouldn’t touch with a bargepole. Not for lack of fitness, but due to a basic inability to run, kick, jump. Then I discovered rowing. Here was something a bit more my style – requiring strong arms and shoulders, good posture, and concentration, it seemed the perfect sport for me to get involved in.

I began in mid-October, and immediately found myself in the unusual position of being one of the shortest in the crew. And subsequently, the slowest beginner – pulling 2000m in 12 minutes wasn’t good enough, but I wasn’t deterred. I hit the gym 5 days a week, went to circuit training run by a loud ex-military Welshman, and managed to cut my time down to 9.5 minutes. The improvement was huge and evident, as was my altering body shape. And it felt good. I was still climbing, using that as one of my training sessions. Things were looking promising for a year of races.

Then one day whilst in the boat, things went wrong. I was freezing cold, my legs and feet numb to the point of excruciating pain. And my back seized up. So began a long journey of physio, exercises, stretching, and disheartening conclusions. As someone who’s never been hugely involved in sport, getting an injury wasn’t something I’d considered or expected. I’m young, healthy, fit, and enjoying myself – the physio informed me that in fact, my skeleton was rather twisted and the rowing motion had aggravated muscles that had been attempting to hold my body in place for 20 years.

The training stopped, the climbing stopped, anything above walking stopped, and I was shelling out £32.50 a week to be prodded and tortured by a short man with spikey hair (though to give him credit, he’s been incredibly good). How do you come back from that? Without the motivation of knowing I was good to start with, how was I supposed to get my head back into fitness, and remind myself that things can change? It’s a process that I’m only a little way through at the moment.

Review: Quizoola!

It’s half-past eleven at night and I’m sat on the tube heading into London. I’m not dressed in heels and a skirt – in fact, I’m wearing the comfiest clothes I own, and my large handbag is filled with water, chewing gum, comfy socks, and flapjacks. I’m on my way to the Barbican for a 12 hour stint at Forced Entertainment‘s Quizoola!. ‘I must be mad’, I think… and I’m very nearly right.

Conceived and devised by the whole company, with text written by Tim Etchells along with members of the public, Quizoola! is an exploration of humanity. Thousands upon thousands of questions are asked – ranging from ‘what came first, the colour orange or the fruit?’, to ‘have you slept with someone who is now dead?’. And we the audience observe, in a bizarre, Big Brother, prisoner watching way. Originally a 6 hour show, Forced Entertainment extended it as part of the Barbican’s SPILL festival; I found it hard to last the length of the original. From midnight to 2am, I was engaged and interested, laughing along to the improvised answers, intrigued by the performers’ capacity to switch from lighthearted to serious. By 4am, I felt like I was going insane. Exhaustion was overtaking, I felt nauseous, shaky, like I was sitting in some form of psychological torture. So we took a break.

The rooms around the Pit area of the Barbican were still up and running for our benefit, comfy sofas allowing people to catch a nap, a cafe open to serve anything from crisps to pasta. A 40 minute break returned me to reality and eased my restlessness enough to head back into the white room, four large crystal chandeliers creating an eerie, Hollywood-film atmosphere to the piece. The performers, by this point having switched around after their 2 hour stints, sat on chairs beneath a neon sign, their clown makeup beginning to look less fresh and friendly.

I lasted 8 hours. By 8am, despite having dozed for around an hour at 6, I was ready to leave. I didn’t understand why I was there, or what was going on. Perhaps, I thought, that was the intention – to see how long audiences will last, and exploration of stamina, a question of attention, and how far you can push someone to believe in your performance.

It was definitely an experience. Something unlike any other piece of theatre I have seen before, or I expect will see again. Should I attempt something similar, I don’t think I’ll put myself past 6 hours – the desperation reached a point where I felt I would never leave that room or return to normality. The questions themselves were mundane, the room monotonous with its white walls and grey chairs, the performers were animated and it was interesting to watch their own deterioration into sleep deprivation. But Quizoola! is not something to be taken lightly. Go prepared to be shaken and confused, leave feeling somewhat disturbed, and don’t expect to last the night.

Robin Arthur and Richard Lowdon

Climbing the Costa Blanca

Day One – Toix Oeste

It’s March 2013, and it’s feeling like the end of the world. Cities are swathed in snow and ice, no-one has that Springtime readiness of picnics and bright flowers. It is dreary, grey, and damp. Usually, I would’ve been packing up my tent and heading to the Cornish coast for a week of soggy climbing attempts, spending the majority of my time and money in tea shops and pubs. Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy this (especially the latter) – however, I’ve been itching for some good climbing for several months, and am very tired of thermals. Instead, I hopped on a plane and set off for Spain.

I really love getting stuck into Gritstone or the coastlines of the UK for some gnarly climbing, numb fingers, and good fun. The climbing itself is of good quality and usually has an excellent range of abilities. But the Costa Blanca provides incredible scenery, hot sun, and beautifully slabby climbing that make for an idyllic holiday as well as training opportunity.

Over the course of 7 days we visited 4 different crags, getting in 5 climbing sessions and 2 rest days to enjoy the beach. Don’t forget, rest days are just as important (and why miss out on spotless sand?!). For my first experience of climbing abroad, I couldn’t have been taken anywhere better by my highly experienced climber boyfriend, with a chance to push myself as far I wanted in terms of grades, whilst soaking up the culture and atmosphere of Spanish cliffs. The Sierra de Toix was a fantastic first day, up high on a hill overlooking Calpe and Benidorm, with excellent routes that are technically multi-pitch, but make good starts ranging from 3-4 to 6a+ and much higher. Though not the best climbing in the area, it’s an easily accessible and good place to begin, particularly the Toix Oeste area. The following day we headed to Gandía – this is a little tricky for those leading less that 6a, but of course if you’re wanting to explore a little harder it’s excellent. Described in the guidebook as ‘incredibly sheltered’, we were somewhat surprised to be hammered by gales – but nevertheless, the Spanish sun kept us and the green lizards warm. Be warned however, a snake was encountered in one of the (frustratingly large) jugs… nothing like a bit of wildlife to keep you motivated!

Olta had the hardest walk-in of the four we visited, slogging uphill for 20-30minutes depending on your fitness. But you are rewarded with an incredible view of the Peñon d’Ifach which makes it worthwhile. Luckily for us (amazing to say), it was more overcast when we headed to Olta, which made for very pleasant climbing again with a wide range of abilities, including some good high 6s and 7s to get your teeth stuck into should you be that way inclined. We kept company with many friendly and slightly creepy goats too, but had the rest of the crag entirely to ourselves. A fairly small range, but peaceful and enjoyable if you’re after a leisurely day’s climbing after the approach.

Review: Swan Lake

I’m not a dancer. I know little about the technicality of dance and what can be deemed ‘good’ or ‘bad. I can, however, express my appreciation for a show, the form of people moving across a stage, and the impression I’m left with upon leaving the theatre.

The Moscow City Ballet have just left Guildford following a three-night run of their productions of Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty, the former of which I went to see for myself. As I mentioned in my review of BalletBoyz, I have not seen much in the way of ballet – in fact, my only past experience was an adaptation of Wuthering Heights about 4 years ago. Nevertheless, Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake is one of those must-see productions, and the tour at GLive was too good to miss. I took my sister for her birthday as she’s longed to see it for years, and we went off with anticipation and a level of ignorance.

This review isn’t about the quality of dance, it is about the quality of show – and MCB know a thing or two about that. The costumes were exquisite – even from the upper circle, the intricate designs and detailing were apparent, creating a true theatrical spectacle that highlighted both the sense of story and the ability of the dancers. Prima Ballerina Liliya Orkehova, it almost goes without saying, was truly remarkable to watch. Her lithe form gliding across the stage with such ease was enchanting, and her constant strength was comparable only to that of Talgat Kozhabaev who performed Prince Siegfried. A surprisingly tall ballet dancer, he was graceful and consistent, playing not the passive male but confident and engaging in his solo performances.

However, for me the show was stolen by Artem Minakov, who performed as the Jester. With incredible precision and skill, he executed phrases of dance with wonderful expression that had us laughing and cheering. The combination of unavoidable talent with comic timing and character made Minakov unmissable, and magnetic to the eye, occasionally overshadowing the principal dancers with his mimed reactions to the story and small quips to the audience.

As my first experience of traditional ballet, it’s safe to say I couldn’t have made a better choice. A classic piece filled with iconic and stirring music conducted by Igor Shavruk, Swan Lake by the Moscow City Ballet had everything a performance should be. Keep an eye out for their return to the UK.

Review: BalletBoyz

Talent 2013 is the latest production by the innovative dance group, BalletBoyz. Even calling them a ‘dance group’ doesn’t do justice to the things these men do; it is not just ballet or contemporary but the most incredible expression of passion and strength. Following on from my recent interview with dancer Ed Pearce, I was fortunate enough to get to see him in action at GLive. Believe the hype, they are truly remarkable.

This latest venture sees two world premieres from choreographers Russell Maliphant and Liam Scarlett, showcasing their innovative creativity as well as the skill and precision of their dances. Each act was preceded by a short video clip of the respective choreographer, providing some insight into their ways of working and the inspiration behind the movements. This was a very useful way of ensuring the audience didn’t come in cold to the performance, helping those without any dance knowledge to feel a little more welcome.

Act one was beautifully simple – all the dancers in flesh-coloured tights, with fairly classical music overlaying a display of physicality, highlighting the masculine physique in movement. I myself am not a dancer, so am unaware of the technicalities of styles such as ballet. Nevertheless I was able to truly appreciate the control needed throughout this first half. The dancers were mesmerising, moving fluidly across the stage but with incredible effort that was evident throughout the piece. Simplistic lighting meant that the movement spoke for itself without distraction or theatricality; it was ballet in an incredibly pure form of expression.

The second act moved from embracing the physique to harnessing male dominance and strength. As Scarlett mentioned in his video clip, often in ballet the strength of the piece rests on the female, the male being a support. In his choreography however, the 10-strong company showcased their phenomenal agility and power with the most awe-inspiring lifts, jumps and turns. The music and costuming took on a more intimidating theme, with green and brown hues building on the mechanical, thumping drums and stirring rhythms. This half was meant to amaze, and it did just that with feats of pure strength and precision being complimented by beautiful technique and musicality.

I cannot comment on the particular moves or choices of choreography, having no real understanding of what would be classed as classical or risky, but I can however state that I could have happily watched these men perform all day. Riverdance has been my favourite dance company for the past ten years, and it is with great ease that I say that BalletBoyz are now a very close second indeed. I would highly recommend that you get to see them as they tour across the country, hitting Sadler’s Wells in London in early March. You will not be disappointed.

Review: Birdsong

The tale of ‘Birdsong’ by Sebastian Faulks has become a well-known story of tragic love in a time of war, being developed from the novel into a West End sensation starring Ben Barnes, and then moving into a television series. Now, director Alastair Whatley presents it once more, produced by the Original Theatre Company, in a tour around the country.

Set in the Western Front of France between 1916 and 1918, the action surrounds Stephen Wraysford, who returns constantly to his time in Amiens in 1910, where his past hides secrets and unravelling incidents. The concept of flashbacks provides a problem for any set designer, yet Victoria Spearing adapted the Yvonne Arnaud’s relatively small stage remarkably, shifting with relative ease between World War I trenches to French houses and rivers. A large stone-arch facade was at home as both warn-worn villages and garden walls, whilst the backdrop of silhouetted wooden planks and grave markers acted as a constant reminder of the present context of the play. Alex Wardle’s lighting enhanced the transitions well, as did the innovation of light used during the underground tunnel scenes.

Flashbacks cause problems for the actors too, having to switch from one emotion to another in very quick succession. Needless to say, the character of Stephen Wraysford is a particularly hard one, frequently moving from desperate, scarred soldier to hopeful, young man in a matter of seconds. However, Jonathan Smith was able to find a way of connecting almost immediately to the two histories; impressive for an actor with only two professional years behind him. Similarly, Tim Treloar as Jack Firebrace was deeply moving, building on an already complex and heart-warming character, to becoming an engaging and wonderful man onstage with whom the whole audience felt connected to.

I was however, sadly disappointed by Sarah Jayne Dunn as Isabelle Azaire, Wraysford’s love interest. Although the part calls for a certain emotional disconnection due to the nature of her domestic life, the scenes of tenderness appeared somewhat clumpy at times, without the warmth and relief I’d expected to see during the affair. That said, the love scene was a beautifully choreographed dance (Lucie Pankhurst, movement director), being sensitive and expressive through the use of a red scarf, while equally passionate and fierce. Provided the first-night audience was largely school students, I felt this was a well-produced play and a tasteful way of handling the text.

Whilst the set, lighting and actors aided in the changes between past and present, the attempt at seamless movement from, for example, staggering invalid to happy young man, though at first appearing clever, became almost comical as we grew to expect it. Whilst I can see what Whatley was attempting to achieve, having all scenes move in this way lost its innovative spark fairly quickly.

Ultimately, ‘Birdsong’ was cleverly portrayed on this smaller stage, not attempting to imitate its West End predecessor but rather re-imagine Rachel Wagstaff’s stage version of the book. Despite its strong cast and moving story, I found nevertheless that I left the theatre without a feeling of awe and satisfaction, but rather that something more could have been brought out. It was a good play, and a solid production, yet it lacked the spark that has made other adaptations so inspiring.