“There are poisons that destroy the sight and poisons that open the eyes” Strindberg

Many years ago I attended a lecture of writing for film, given by Michael Eaton, as part of the MA in Playwriting studies in Birmingham. One of the excellent pieces of advice he gave the playwriting students was to, “ensure you send your characters into a liminal zone; a place they do not know, either geographically or emotionally; better if both.”

From Novermber 10th -21st 2008 I spent two weeks in Stockholm, Sweden, attending a conference, HOW SOON IS NOW? THE POLITICS OF INTERCULTURE, attending Riksteatern’s Theatre Festival, seeing many plays and meeting with people from the main theatres and radio stations. During this time I was asked, by Script, to keep a journal of my experiences.

Monday: DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

So, 4.30pm Stockholm Central. First impressions; It is dark by half past three from November through to February. As a result of living in semi-darkness the city is big on lights; shop windows with pretty lamps, big, brightly lit bill-boards and the windows of houses and apartments are tastefully decked with candles or Christmas lights. The city is fast, but people seem relaxed and friendly. It is a short ride to my apartment .

Later that evening Gustav Tengby (Dramaturg at Riksteatern) took me to a fabulous Indian restaurant, where he talked animatedly about this role at Riksteatern (the national touring theatre company based in an enormous theatre building, in Hollunda, about an hour from Stockholm). He talked about many productions, people and places. There appears to be a very healthy touring theatre scene - over 300 venues choosing to receive any of the 60 shows being made at Riksteatern per year. Children’s theatre is thriving. A lot of time spent developing relationships with audiences . I am excited to learn about a touring-dance show you can book to come and perform in your own living-room. Radio is thriving here and also there are many children’s radio plays, particularly at Christmas, when from the beginning of December to Christmas day there is a specially commissioned play made to run throughout advent.


Tuesday: THEATRE FOR CHILDREN

At nine the following morning there is a show at Leojonkulan, Young Dramaten, (Lion’s Den, the children’s theatre), situated in the bowels of the Dramaten (National Theatre). The production was, LOVE OCH CIRKUSFAGLARNA (LOVE AND THE CIRCUS BIRDS). A somewhat bizarre, but enchanting play about a boy who runs away from home and locks himself in a launderette. To stop himself from feeling lonely he conjures two circus birds from his imagination and the three play and work through the boy’s issues with his bossy parents. (The parents are represented by a tiny little house which lights up and their disembodied voices float through the theatre - the kids loved it). The production is, of course, in Swedish. Quickly I established that when two people are on stage it is easy to interpret the action/intention of a scene. Monologues are tougher!

The production was followed by a meeting with the lovely Sven Hugo Persson, Dramaturg, at the National Theatre. He spoke about the current struggles facing big theatres; how to attract new audiences, how to keep the current audience. He also spoke about the growing importance of celebrity status in Sweden and how the theatres are responding to the audience’s need for big names in their productions.

Wednesday: HOW SOON IS NOW?

An incredible two-day conference held at the Sodra theatre. (So much happened during this time, for now I will note the highlights and perhaps add more later). The event was opened by the Swedish Minister for Culture, Lena Adelsohn. She spoke about how, “ we now live and act both internationally and interculturally at the same time.” Adding, “everyone has a right to culture.”

This was followed by a Nordic working group (Trevor Davies from International Theatre/Arhus and Shanti Brahmachari from Skuespillersenter, Norway) presenting their findings from other conferences in Copenhagen and Oslo. They spoke about how people had started to embrace the fact their society was transformed forever and their guest-workers, who had arrived in the nineties wouldn’t be going home. (This felt a very dated attitude to people from outside Sweden). This posed both challenges and opportunities to Nordic societies. Principally the working group stated the cultural right s for Nordic citizens had not been fully realised and that it didn’t yet, reflect the Nordic society in all it’s reality and complexity.

Several strategies needed to be implemented to ensure this changed. First, there needs to be a sustainable organisation (the working group have just lost their funding) to help maintain and develop cultural traditions. Lack of understanding needs to be addressed through education. To develop the 3 T’s - Talent, Tolerance and Technology. And the need to note, “change happens from the periphery, not from the inside.” The working group spoke of the sort of work they would like to see in the city.

We then watched three examples of best practise from Selam theatre company (from Sweden),
Tabanka Crew a dance company, (from Norway) and Contact, a theatre company (from Denmark). All of the examples given were excellent.

At lunch I spoke to Thomas Presto, from Tabanka. He was fantastically positive about the work his company were producing and talked about how each dance group will work on a pyramid structure - the leader of a project will be a professional, then there will be people within the group who have some experience and then some who are keen and have talent but little or new experience. He said working in this way had resulted in several new companies being formed. I liked his inclusive approach. His only frustration was, as any small company will know, was funding. He was frustrated with huge slices of funding always going to the bigger companies. (On the way home I reflected on why, if this was, “exactly the sort of work ,“the working group were looking for, didn’t the bigger theatres link up with these three companies and work on collaborative projects).

In the evening all of the delegates went to see MOT VAGGEN (HEAD ON - Riksteatern).
The play is a passionate love story. The show is based on Faith Akin’s awarded film Head-On and brilliantly directed by Dritero Kasapi.

Thursday: WHERE ARE OUR CITIES?

During the second day of the conference we broke into groups and discussed the future of Stockholm. People spoke about the need different for cultures to interact, to have a better understanding of each other. (The group all happily, and embarrassingly, switched to speak in English). We discussed finding common spaces and various projects to link the cities citizens. We also discussed how the technology is leading to us having virtual cities on our lap tops - we talk online but not to our neighbour.

After we had all re-grouped and discussed our various findings a young woman stood up and said to the academic, (mature, white man) who had been leading the conference, “if you want to have a proper conversation about culture, why are you using so many big words I don’t understand? You have to speak in a language that everyone gets. ” There was also a request to open the conference to a wider group of people.

Associated links:
WWW.labforculture.org
(please note the Rainbow paper and Chris Torch).

Friday: TEATERAGARNA 2008

So, no sooner had one conference finished, a theatre festival begins. Teateragarna is the annual festival held at Riksteatern. There are numerous of events being held at the same time. Each person is given a timetable. My day started watching Cullberbalettern, an open ballet rehearsal. This was fantastic. Ten incredible dancers and of course, the ease of understanding a story through movement, not dialogue.

Then I attended a seminar called, Great Britain Today . The seminar was given by Mukhtar Dar from The Drum in Birmingham. Mukhtar showed examples of the work at his theatre and discussed projects his company were involved in schools. Knife attacks and gangs were high on his agenda. I spoke with him afterwards and joked about how ludicrous it was to come all these miles to learn, in detail, about an organisation less than five miles from where I live.

Then, no time to waste: KNIF a one-woman show. This was wacky and manic glimpse into a teenage girl’s bedroom. Ms Spears would be proud. For my money, it was a little longer than it needed to be, although the actor was so crazy (and precise while within her craziness) she became mesmerising.

The evening quickly arrived and it was time to see, LA MEMOIRE D ANNA POLITOVSKAIA
Bleak? Yes. Haunting? Yes. Brilliantly acted? Yes. Bit more bleakness? Yes, yes, yes. I struggled with this play more than any other. A cast of around 15. I could see there was a strong central story; a husband who sold his wife into prostitution and a sub-plot about a colonel who befriended a child to make up for the absence left by his dead wife, but there was lots more going on and I couldn’t grasp it. At this time I was incredibly tired too. Afterwards there was a general feeling everyone seemed to admire the writer but everyone wanted to be released from the gloom.

Saturday: WHEN WE DEAD AWAKEN

A nine o clock seminar; Communityteater, vad ar det? (Community Theatre, what is that?) This was held in Swedish, therefore I was thrilled it was at the beginning of the day and I was fresh and ready to concentrate. I understood more than anticipated and met some amazing people who are working in this field. (More later). Community theatre is new to Sweden; it is just beginning to grow. Discussions are starting to bubble about the difference between professional actors and community actors and why the differentiation matters. I managed to chip in at this point and talk about Jon Oram, a community theatre director who is based in Kent. After directing over 30 community plays, Jon has developed the notion of the social actor. We also discussed how you share stories and ownership of the finished work.

The highlight, in terms of stages plays, came at lunchtime. Die Buhne & Folkteatern presented NORDOST. The play is three compelling and brilliantly performed and staged monologues about the Moscow theatre siege, from the point of view of three women who were inside.
Associated link:
www.folkteatern.se

HOME NOT HOME (Riksteatern). Was a seminar to discuss Sweden’s contribution to the European Year of Intercultural Dialogue. The project attempted to seek to define “home” in times marked by mobility and migration. MOT VAGGEN was part of this work. Also associated to this project was a video installation, SEE ME! The project was a series of interviews with woman who had suffered domestic abuse.
Associated link:
www.interculturaldialogue2008.eu

Saturday night was capped with Ibsen’s WHEN WE DEAD AWAKEN (Unity Theatre Liverpool). “While in the mountains, amidst the silence and the desperate need to escape the characters, finally, through the snow and mist, wake up and seize the life that could be theirs.” With Richard Pickavance and Susanne Gunnerson. Directed by Josette Bushell-Mingo. I enjoyed the play more than the production.; it felt a bit too flimsy for my liking. However, Robert Pickavance was glorious and to hear vast swathes of Enghlish was soothing to my exhausted ears.
This was just a selection of the work being displayed. Other work included: BAGHDAD BURNING, RACHEL CORRIE, SUGAR SPIN and DEAFHOOD. (RIK has a Silent Theatre for deaf actors).

The evening was spent drinking and talking to many people about the previous two days viewing. There was a real buzz about NORDOST.

SUNDAY: TIME TO REST
Did little except sleep, walk, write and reflect an sleep some more.

Monday: WHOSE STORY IS IT?

I woke feeling as though I had aught up with myself and finally arrived; I knew where everything was and how it worked in my apartment, I understood the tube, I knew the layout of the city and I had the opening and closing times of the local supermarkets sorted. (You can’t buy alcohol after seven in the evening).
I had a gorgeous lunch with the inspirational Marcus Lindeen, (potential Mad Hatter) director and dramatist who specialises in documentary drama. He talked interestingly about a stage/documentary play about two men who had a sex change and regretted it. REGRETTERS has toured and has been translated into several languages. I have worked a lot using material taken from interviews and we had a very good debate about ownerships of the story and the right to edit and how that impacts on the original tale. He recommended that I looked at a book by Rimini Protokoll, (who dramatised Karl Marx’s Das Kaptial) called, Experts of the Everyday.

Tuesday: NEW IDEAS TO ATTRACT NEW AUDIENCES

I decided to walk to the radio station. It took about an hour and a half; through the main street, through the outskirts of old town, along the water front and into the huge building that is Radio House. There I met with Elizabeth Lagerstedt and Eric Nybaeus, producers of Swedish Radio. They took me on a tour of their studios where we managed to meet a director and his team who are currently editing Anna Karenina. Swedish radio is thriving, exciting and daring. Their production schedules are fabulous - having up to two weeks to record a 60 minute play and then four weeks to edit. Currently they are producing adaptations of classics, half-hour contemporary plays and erotic plays for late on Saturday nights . They also have a department dedicated to making children’s plays.

Then a snowy train ride north of Stockholm to Uppsalla. At three I met with Marie Persson Hedenius, dramaturg at Uppsala Theatre. We were supposed to talk for an hour. Three hours later we were still discussing ways of collaborating, perhaps linking Birmingham and Uppsalla. We then went to see a preview of their new play, RIGOLETTO/DJURISK ATRA. The play tells the taleof Rigoletto and Freudian conversations are mixed in. The set is white, as are the costumes. One woman is virtually naked and covers herself in oil. They talk of pornography being a good thing and give the audience gifts of pornographic images. The play was well performed and with humour and masses of pathos and is supposed to be new and daring and yet somehow it felt dated. We’ve seen all this before. It would have been interesting to have talked to the actors afterwards to see how comfortable they felt with the so-called contemporary message of the play.



Wednesday: THEATRE FOR CHILDREN IS AS IMPORTANT AS THEATRE FOR ADULTS

Gustav, the White Rabbit, had returned from his trip to Copenhagen. It was lovely to see him again. After a debrief, it was time for a meeting with Lisa Hugoson and Mia Larsson who are running the Theatre for Young People at Riksteatern. They tour about 12 shows a year. Their department is thriving and has a writer in residence who has spent the past two years working on a collaboration with some local school children. They showed me a map of Sweden and identified the different regions/audiences. They talked about a show that had done well there, the title translated into Fanny and Dick. The play explored the human body and the changes that occur. They tried to bring the play to the UK. One school attended a performance and the teachers were shocked and alarmed. Naked bodies! The next day no schools came to the performance. Come on UK!

In the afternoon I met for hot chocolate in the market with America Vera Zevala - Botkyrka Community Theatre. A kindred spirit. Straight away we suspect a lasting friendship will grow. America is currently working on a community play based on a Swedish mill town. She has spent the past two years interviewing and putting the play together. She very politically active and has written books about the Swedish miners strike of 1969. She had another meeting to attend, but invited me for dinner the following evening. As she was leaving she announced following dinner we would “drink in the bar with the best view in town.” Sounded good to me.

Thursday: LET US GET ON WITH CREATING

A reading of a play for children written by Milan Axelsson. The children have been working on the script with her for two years. A team of actors read the play and the children listened and then gave feedback. The kids then showed us a piece of theatre they had made for the actors. Milan said this would be the last project of its kind, due to funding cuts. This is a pity as it was glorious to see kids buzzing with new ideas and not for the first time, found myself envious of the time allocated to a project.

In the evening I met with Jasenko Selimovic, head of Swedish radio. I had met Jasenko some years ago when he was the artistic director of the Gutenberg theatre. It was lovely to see him again. We went to a bar and talked in more depth about radio and his vision. He talked about programmes which will be aired next year, including 14 plays from different countries as part of a series about Europe. He asked me what I had noted from my time in Stockholm. It felt too soon to be having that conversation and I also said my time had been spent in a very specific way with a select group of people - we all think in pretty much the same way - theatre is great, we need more money, how can we be original, how can we tackle the new audience issue, why do we want to tell this story., who is it for.

Dinner at America’s was lovely; high on the prospect of having survived the two weeks without getting lost or missing a meeting, it was heavenly to spend some time in a home; with a sofa and a kettle. We watched a debate programme, which was hosted by her partner, (discussing adoption laws and homes for the elderly) and at eleven o clock we made our way through the snow and up to the bar with the best view in Stockholm.

Friday:

An incredible two weeks. So many new ideas, so many new conversations, so many cups of tea.
A huge thank you to everyone involved with this project and to everyone who took the time to meet with me. Particular thanks to Gustav Tegby, for being so considerate and patient.

On my way to the station it struck me the tube map looks like a relaxed person (red line) sitting in a chair (green line) reading a newspaper (blue line). That, perhaps, will be my lasting impression of the people in Stockholm.

“I dream, therefore I am.” Stindberg

Something else

It is hard sitting back here in Wolverhampton, to sum up my experiences with Fishamble in Dublin (as well as all the other theatre makers I had contact with...ps many apologies to Maureen from Rough Magic) . I know that part of my brief was to explore how other individuals and companies approach new theatre writing, and from that point of view, I saw plenty to talk about. From Friel’s revised version of Ibsen’s classic, the tragic heroine Hedda Gabler to a classic version of Waiting for Godot, revisited in Korean. In Deidre Kinahan’s dark diamond of a play Hue and Cry I’ve seen macho men navigate their way through their grief for a lost father, in the form of interpretive dance. I’ve seen chaos rule Enda Walsh’s/Theatre O’s version of Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, in the Peacock’s production Delirium. And I’ve seen performers ruling chaos in Wajdi Mouawad’s Wedding Day at Cro-Magnons...on top of this I’ve met with writers, literary officers and artistic directors all in the search for the perfect formula for writing a play. And of course, despite my horizons undergoing an invaluable expansion, despite being changed and becoming resolute in my quest, I did not find the Holy Grail. However (and coincidentally, as with theatrical writing itself) it is the journey that is most fulfilling, not necessarily the final destination.

It would be so easy to end on an abstract! But another piece of the brief did catch my attention. That is, there are currently (except in some theatres and the odd academic course eg MA in Playwriting at Birmingham Uni) no mainstream, accessible courses in writing that take you through each stage of the process. And it is a process. Both imaginative and mechanical, and ultimately very rewarding. So I’m going to take some of my own advice, and come up with a plan. If your vision is clear, others will see it. If you’re enjoying the writing, whether it’s dark or light, whether it’s as complex as the evolution of the eye or shallow as a summer’s puddle...others will enjoy it. If it resonates with you, chances are it will resonate with someone else, you’ve just got to pitch it right. So grab a pen and paper and bullet point a rough plot – don’t forget to increase the stakes, scene by scene. Sketch a character – from what 3 things they’ve got in their pockets to who they love/fear/respect most in the world (always interesting when it’s the same person). If you concentrate on the nuts and bolts of the story, the emotion will come out, and if you make us feel something...we will be forever in your debt.

Out of the rain, into the galleries

I had a clear timetable today, so got to explore some of the galleries in the city. Dublin's National gallery sits right next to the grounds of Trinity College and offers a free and broad range of works by Europeans, especially over the past four hundred years...and now I'm kicking myself because I'm going to highlight my ignorance by talking about a particular piece without knowing the name of the artist. Still, must mention it because it grabbed me so...it was a piece painted by an artist who strongly influenced the cubist movement in the early 20th century, a depiction of the crucifixion, and not particularly liked (as I observed) by a lot of the general public milling around the gallery. I, on the other hand, loved it. Maybe because it mentioned mathematical terminology like 'Translation and Rotation'. I am currently teaching secondary science to pupils at the Northicote school in Wolverhampton, so the cross-over if the arts and science always grabs my attention. I also started to think about the definition of the term 'translation' in both maths and literature. In maths it is simply moving a geometric shape from one place to another, without it altering. In the painting (as in literature) it was a little less clear than a direct translation...and so an internal debate commences, not just about semantics but also about subjectivity. The 'observer effect' is a term both known in science and in the arts and it simply states 'the act of observing something, changes the thing you're observing'. So if (in science) you measure the temperature of something with a thermometer, holding the thermometer will effect the temperature reading on the instrument, thus effecting the reading...in art it is a little more complex as we get into subjectivity, but as an artist it is reassuring that you can't please all the people all the time...so it's best just to please yourself!

The other gallery I visited struck me with a far greater resonance. It was the Hugh Lane gallery in Parnell Square, just around the corner from my hotel. (Just as an aside, there are digital boards around the city - one outside this particular gallery - depicting digital women in short skirts, walking, sauntering, and swaying their hips from side to side. I must admit when I first arrived and saw this outside the gallery, I thought maybe Script had put me up next to strip club...). Anyway! In the Hugh Lane gallery there is an exhibition of Francis Bacon's work, something I haven't come across before, and something I've very pleased to have discovered...if you've never come across this artist before I suggest you look him up. Born in Dublin to English parents his work is something born from the subconscious and very evocative...I'm not going to critique it, just have a look for yourself. Great stuff...

The Abbey

I am currently sitting in the literary office of Ireland's National Theatre, The Abbey, which lies at the heart of Dublin's cultural scene...and it's not nearly as intimidating as it might sound. I have spent the morning talking to Jessica Traynore and Christine Madden who have enlightened me as to what goes on at The Abbey in terms of new writing. There is obviously a devotion and passion here for new works as a lot of the pieces being produced this season are freshly written pieces from established playwrights. There is a great tradition here for nurturing home grown talent, as well as a movement towards international works and new writing, which became one of the major topics of conversation. The theatre is currently under quite a large change, both Christine and Jessica are relatively new to the literary office here, although certainly well experienced in their given fields - Christine has come from the literary department of Rough Magic theatre company and Jessica has completed her MA in Creative Writing in Dublin. Also, as I mentioned in one of my earlier posts, the Abbey is changing site. On top of this and countless other challenges, they are trying to start up a young writers course for new writing. However, as they resolutely stated, the literary department is interested in nurturing new writers more than new writing. This is a reassuring and refreshing thing to hear, as well as their interest here in looking at the different processes that writers can adopt i.e. not just traditional forms of structure but also origins of ideas through imagery, or the space itself...indeed working with other practitioners in the theatre; actors, directors, designers etc.

It is very exciting time for theatre in Dublin, at The Abbey and indeed with all the people and places I've visited and and been privileged enough to talk and engage with. I have repeatedly talked about how much the city (in fact the whole country) has changed in the past ten years, money being the lynchpin and of which there is more of now. It is essential that at least some of these newly created resources are used for the development of the new voices that are starting to holler from all corners of this marvellous country. I'm really chuffed to see it happening, especially at this most well established and respected theatre. It is important as a writer (and it is something that was echoed during this morning's chat) that one is not intimidated by these towering, theatrical establishments. Having worked at the Royal Court, I believe the same sentiments are mirrored there. The priority of these establishments is to nurture, develop and produce theatre. And in terms of new writing, the last thing they want is to intimidate and/or shrink writers. There is everything in place to help writers overcome their fears of exposing themselves, and I often think it is then down to the writer...are you going to let that fear grow so that it overshadows your creativity, or are you going to remember why started writing in the first place. If you remain true to yourself, you'll create the best work you can.

I think it's going to be very difficult to get on that plane back to England come Friday...

This is my church...

Structure should be an easy thing to define. A car has four wheels, a chassis, a shell...a tree has roots, a trunks, branches, leaves...even something complicated, say the internal combustion engine, can be made simple by understanding it's structure...the same goes for good playwriting. There are the basics; story, plot, character, objective, obstacles, crisis, climax, resolution. Even the more complicated aspects of dramatic writing; revelation and reversal, axis, currency, even these things can be understood if explained. Of course, good teaching is essential. I am currently two days into a three day writing course at Fishamble, lead by Gavin Kostick, and I'm relearning a great deal as well as picking up some lovely nuggets of new information. I think it's equally important as a writer to find different ways of looking at things as it is to be true to your vision. It is easy to acquire an arrogance which, if nothing else, prevents you from choosing what might work for you as well as reducing your awareness about what might not work - and in fact hinder the writing process. Over the past couple of days we have returned to the Greeks and Aristotelian concepts of dramaturgy, which is something I covered quite extensively doing the masters at brum uni, but is equally refreshing now as it ever was. And it's great to talk to new writers (also doing the course) and seeing how well they're responding to these essential, archetypal ideas. There is something very reassuring about these ideas when you hear them, especially if you keep in mind that they are to be used as tools and not rules. If they don't work for you, it's simple, put them to one side. However, it is a slightly romantic notion to think that a writer just writes, and the words come from a deep, unfathomable abyss which no-one else can be party to...of course, you need an audience. So some set of coherent rules that help you write, will surely have more chance of resulting in a work that will reach out to people. Having said all this it is also worth mentioning that when I (and most writers I've met) do put pen to paper, that's exactly what we do. Arthur Miller was known to stick a sentence that summed up the play he was writing at the bottom of his typewriter, it helped him keep the piece focused. However, on the whole, I don't think writers stick up lists of rules around the room they are working to make sure they're doing everything right. No, writers just write, but having these rules/tools at the back of your mind is very important...and also when it comes to redrafting, these tools are invaluable. So if anyone out there's thinking of it I strongly recommend reading up on dramatic structure before starting your masterpiece...and on the flip side, don't think too much about it...one the best pieces of advice I've ever been given is don't get it right, get it written. Bon voyage...

More mixed salad than melting pot...(day 4)

The autumn sun shines starkly on the capital today, as it has done since I arrived. Except for yesterday when the wind wailed and you had to close your eyes and walk blind in fear of the rain damaging your retinas. As I mentioned yesterday I met up with Deirdre at the Solstice Arts centre which is about an hour away on the bus in a town called Navan, NW of Dublin. A lovely little town that maybe gives you a closer reading of a more traditional Ireland, or at least those nuances that are lost in any capital city...and going back to the idea of generalising and stereotyping, I was more comfortable with the Ireland I saw yesterday in Navan. Windswept, wet and white. No melting pot here, what you see is what you get, and in real life I think this brings most people comfort. And possibly in theatre? What makes a particular story told for the stage stand out? It certainly isn't the universality of the piece but more the specifics; we don't want to be asked into our own homes but rather a world we know exists but know very little about. What's important is that the characters belong in their world - not the audience.

Having said all this (all what?) I want to move on to the piece of theatre I saw yesterday at Trinity College in Dublin, Sanwoollim Theatre Company's Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. Sanwoollim Theatre Company is a Korean (Seoul) based theatre company, who's director Professor Young-Woong Lim has been studying and producing performances of Godot for over forty years (which does make me wonder if he's still Waiting?). The piece was superb with very little being lost in translation. He obviously has a lot of respect for the author as it was as true to the original as could be, with the performers as passionate and engaged with the text as any other production I had seen. There was post show discussion, which really told me more about cultural differences than the presentation of the piece itself. His son (also with a PhD on Beckett) introduced the Company and the journey that Godot had made with him and his father over the past ten years. They were very proud of critics quotes claiming that the piece was 'mellowing' and 'objective', not words we usually associate with theatre (or indeed Godot) in England. Also, when it came to opening the floor to questions (of which I had one burning about how the piece was specific to a modern Korean audience) only one question was actually taken from the floor! It left me feeling that the Company was being protected in some way by the drama students at Trinity, or maybe I was just a bit jilted because I wasn't allowed to ask my precious question. But it was a gentle reminder that there is no 'melting pot', we all close our doors to keep our worlds intact, culturally, collectively and individually. And thank god, otherwise there'd be nothing to expose.

I met with Gavin at Fishamble again today. I must say I love literary managers who also produce their own work. Ben Payne at the Birmingham Rep is another of those who certainly knows his stuff as far as his given field is concerned but also likes to test his own creativity, putting his own neck on the line. Gavin is the same, he is currently running a staged version of Joseph Conrad's The Heart of Darkness. Pretty much the whole book, unabridged, running for five and half hours...that leaves me a little speechless, and in awe, and eager to see it. As Gavin says a lot people come just because it sounds unbelievable, they come 'to see the guy put the sword through his head'. For me it shows a level of endurance and commitment that I don't think most people can relate to, but a devotion I think anyone can admire. It's this level of commitment to theatre that is becoming more and more apparent as my time passes here, and it is something quite wonderful.

I am embarking on a weekend of writing workshops with Gavin as of tomorrow, so will be posting again after the weekend. I'm excited, it's the first chance I've had to write over the past few months, so we shall see...

Ten years on...(day 3)

Last night was a time for me to revisit an old flame as I went to see Hedda Gabler by Henrik Ibsen (a new version by Brian Friel) at the beautiful Gate theatre. Hedda was a piece of Ibsen's work that I studied and wrote about while doing my MA in Playwriting Skills (as it was then known) at Birmingham University, so I am quite well acquainted with our anti-heroine. Seeing it for the first time, and performed to this standard, was quite astounding. Besides Judge Brack's obsession with Americanisms, not much about the script had changed from Ibsen's original. And still it remains as poignant and topical as ever. However, besides the occasional lilt in the accents, there was nothing in the piece that was particularly revealing about the Irish culture.

I don't feel I have an agenda while I'm here (except what's in the brief of course) but I am becoming more aware that I am actively looking for aspects of theatre that define the culture over here. And culture is nothing without people, and yet the trap most writers fall into when trying to characterise a populous is stereotyping. I met with Deirdre Kinahan from Tall Tales theatre company this morning (having seen her visceral piece Hue and Cry at Bewleys Theatre cafe yesterday) and we soon got into a conversation about how much both theatre and the population has changed in just the last ten years. When I walk around Dublin I hear as many different languages as say a place like London but, unlike London, this wasn't the case ten years ago. It appears it is the same with developing and supporting new writing. Deirdre told me that before the millennium there wasn't really as much new writing being developed, simply because the support wasn't there. That, thankfully, has changed and is evident as I walk around as I walk around the city and meet these practitioners as well as seeing their new work.

Now you may ask whether I am trying to make some tenuous link between the increase in the immigrant population and the surge in support, development and production of new writing in the past ten years...that would be silly, there is no direct link. However the Abbey Theatre is seeing the return of Playboy of the Western World, a new version by Bisi Adigun and Roddy Doyle, with a black actor in the lead and back by popular demand - something I fear we'd never have seen ten years ago. It goes to show how quickly a culture can adapt and change and I think we (on the other side of the Sea and no matter how open minded we think we are) can take a leaf out of their book in this respect.

Vivre la Difference!

Dublin Calling

I arrived in Dublin two days ago, and although I'm loathed to begin my first post with a cliche, the people have immediately struck me with their warmth and willingness to tell me all about the city. There seems to be a real connection between the people and the place, which is unusual, especially when I consider our capital. Of course Dublin's population only extends to around one and half to two million, however it is on the increase and everyone here seems to be taking it in their stride.

On Tuesday morning I made my way down O'Connell street and over the river to meet with Gavin Kostick at Fishamble theatre (the city is comfortably compact enough to make your way around on foot). Fishambles offices are on the fourth floor of an old building in the Temple Bar area, south of the river. They don't have their own playing space, as Gavin told me their plays accommodate a wide variety of audiences. And having read a couple of their commissioned pieces that is fairly self-evident, but also as a company that concentrates it's energies on new writing, the emphasis is on development...and the Fishamble offices are certainly a conducive environment for writers to vent their passions, concerns and ambitions - in which I have already indulged, possibly to Gavin's dismay!

Last night I got my first taste of theatre as I saw Enda Walsh's adaptation of The Brother's Karamazov by Dostoevsky, Delirium. The show is produced in the studio space (The Peacock Theatre) of The Abbey Theatre, the National Theatre of Ireland. There was also a pre-show talk with Fiac Mac Conghail, the artistic director of the theatre. The theatre is moving site, which dominated the talks. Even my question about how new writers like Enda and Sebastian Barry (both commissioned by the abbey) make the journey from first play to being commissioned by the National seemed to open up a discussion about space and indeed other writers. And of course money. This is one thing that doesn't change with a short trip over the Irish Sea.

The show itself was fast and furious, with a quite outstanding cast. I enjoyed one of Enda's first plays Disco Pigs immensely and I have to admit I found it difficult to make the same connection with this piece. It was hysterically anarchic , but often chaotic to the point of losing me as an audience member. Having said this I made a point of visiting Wolverhampton's Central Library before I came away to loan the original book by Dostoevsky, and for those that have held it (never mind read it) know that it's quite a hefty piece of work. Needless to say I didn't even scratch the surface before I saw the show, so I tip my hat to all involved for unravelling, condensing and producing such piece of literature.

Also I have just come from a short afternoon matinee of Diedre Kinahan's Hue and Cry in the wonderfully cosy Bewley's Cafe Theatre. This cutting piece of naturalism sees two half brothers reunited in the wake of their father's funeral. This piece was a lot more accessible, funny and tragic and what a great place to see a show. The intimacy of these cafe theatres really does the job at drawing you in, and can even make your coffee taste that bit more bitter...in an enlivening way of course.

I'd like to end my first post by returning to Fishamble and a piece I was given to read`(in between shows) by Gavin. The Pride of Parnell Street by Sebastian Barry tells the story of a couple living in Dublin, torn apart and finally brought together by various acts of private and public violence that has peppered their lives. I often sneer when Literary people talk about the writers 'voice', usually wanting to answer 'but I've got more than one'. However, these contradictory utterances also mean I often love being proved wrong. Barry's play reminds me what it means to have a voice. When I read the play I could hear him listening, without distraction, to those murmurings coming deep from within. Gavin told me Barry is a writer that definitely scribes for voices, creating for particular characters, that is his style. And reading his work that is easy to see. It is also a gentle reminder that he not only writes for voices, but that he writes because there is a voice already there. Demanding, soulful, and completely irrepressible.

And so with refreshed enthusiasm I look forward to the days coming...

LAST TWO DAYS

Wednesday sees the second of the Druid Debuts (I’m unable to see the third on Friday, but have read it) - A LOCK OF FIERCE ROARS by John McManus, a piece of raw untutored exuberance which is one of the most remarkable experiences I’ve ever had inside a theatre, and certainly at a playreading. Moliere’s Miser meets Reservoir Dogs with a bodycount to rival Hamlet at the end. If I tell you that this is a vigorous, Cavan-set comedy about one man’s fierce fight to hold onto his loot, and the thieving bastards who are trying to get it off him, at the time of Ireland’s switch from the punt to the Euro, then this hardly begins to describe the fierce, foul-mouthed energy of the piece and the wonderful showmanship which a cast of four great character actors managed to bring to it.

To me, this feels like a play, and a writer with a future.

It seems clear to me by now that an equivalent to the British ‘new playwriting industry’ simply does not exist in Ireland. There are relatively few outlets for new plays, so the onus is on writers to gravitate towards those companies who put them on and for directors and literary managers to be alert to what is going on around them. The relatively few openings require everybody concerned to be quite tough in their decision-making, and this can be a good thing.

I think in recent years – and especially during the Blair years, the years of Instrumentalism – there has been a tendency in Britain to encourage ten writers where perhaps only three merited it. In the name of opening up ‘access’ I believe a lot of money has been targeted at the whole training and development end of things. A fine thing in itself, but my argument would always be, be clear about who the three good writers are and support them in a meaningful way – not encourage ten writers to think they have a future in a brutal and unforgiving industry. They don’t.

My last live performance – unless you count some of the great street music I heard (check out Mutefish, they deserve to be massive!) – was Fabulous Beast Dance Theatre’s reworking of Giselle, set in the stifling (fictional?) town of Ballyfeeny.

As the great Irish playwright John B. Keane once said, a play about sex in Ireland is always ahead of its time. This took a while to get to me, but its central section – the havoc wrought in this stifling small town by the unleashing of potent sexual forces – had the seats tipping up all around me – at least 15 people leaving the performance.

Well more fool them! This was about as good as dance theatre gets, and I was completely won over by a multi-national company of spirited actor/performers.

For me my trip has been a terrific experience.

The west coast of Ireland (my taxi driver said on the way to the airport: ‘on a clear day and with a fair wind you can smell Dunkin Donuts in New York') feels a long way from England – certainly much further than Dublin – and that was a bracing experience for me. In fact I barely heard an English accent the whole time I was in Galway..

There is a sense of community – and a theatre community – that simply does not exist at home. Somehow, somewhere it has values which transcend the purely commercial (although much work I saw was preoccupied with how crudely venal Ireland is itself becoming), and a sense of reverence for storytellers of all sorts.

Perhaps, at one time, there was nothing to do but tell stories. To while away the time. To convince people they were alive. In Britain we have always been more interested in selling stories, not telling them, and that’s a different thing entirely…

Wednesday

Two days of intensive new writing activity in which I begin to get a grip on the way Druid do things here.

The reading of YELLOW BOOTS on Monday (the Russian play) – one of three ‘Druid Debuts’ – is a success in that it shows up both the strengths of the piece and the areas the writer may still want to have a look at. If the writer takes the ‘positives’ from the experience – ie what she has learned dramaturgically, and the immense kudos of having had a reading at one of the world’s most famous theatres – then the experience will have been a good one.

It may be that this play finds a home; it may not. But the reading is one rung on a ladder into the heart of Ireland’s theatre writing community – a charmed circle in a land where writers are revered (a sighting of Brian Friel or Tom Murphy in the street is a cause for comment).

Yesterday I conducted a session with some of the younger writers in Druid’s orbit – many of them also (script) readers for the theatre – the very first rung on the above-mentioned ladder, and, it seems to me, an excellent way in.

I always say to aspirant writers – get yourself inside a theatre somehow, anyhow – even in the box office, or as an usher. What better way than by reading and critiquing the work of other writers?

Yesterday lunchtime, a performance of two Enda Walsh one-act plays, well done by Thomas and Sarah Lynch. The first deals with the aftermath of a child abduction – distressing for any parent – and I think I’ll leave it at that.

Weekend

Saturday night, and a play to contradict Thomas’ theory (though he hotly denies it) – MIMIC, an extraordinary monologue (quite unlike anything I’ve seen apart from perhaps the Wooster group) that was also a Condition of Ireland play – an account (underscored by piano) of a stand-up comedian famed for his mimicry returning to the homeland he has abandoned years before – a play about a man who doesn’t know who he is returning to a country – a new Ireland – that doesn’t know what it is, or what ‘accent’ to speak in. Not always coherent – or quite sane – but intermittently compelling...

Sunday gave me a chance to observe some Druid New Writing activity – first read-through of a new play to be given a rehearsed reading on Monday afternoon. Another tale of trappedness, but – a relief for me – this time not in a small Irish town, but in the post-Soviet provinces. The writer is a Russian woman resident in Ireland for 7 years. The tang of the unfamiliar was bracing; also the opportunity to see an Irish director and actors at work (although I have observed this before, having had a play on in Cork in 2002).

Interesting digression about geography. In Ireland you go ‘up’ to Dublin, wherever you’re coming from. In Britain we seem to obey the points of the compass, going down to London from John O Groats and up to it from Cornwall. In Russia, apparently, there is no equivalent. Many Russians never visit Moscow in their lifetimes...

Evening ends with spectacular Festival parade – a European-influenced piece of street theatre with giant puppets, masks and a demonic circus. Excellent.

Friday Night

Friday Night

A bit of a blur. Was sitting in a bar reading a thriller by a writer who I once knew (and worked with) as a playwright, when I was accosted by a man who noticed the book and claimed also to know the author.

One thing - or rather one drink - led pretty swiftly to another and I was soon introduced to a cast of some of Galway's thirstiest people...

Some excellent and mostly unprintable stories - chiefly from a man who claimed to have spent the bulk of his thirties playing bodhran in Riverdance, had a mate who’d had both arms bitten off by a tiger, and once busked his way home from Zurich for a bet...

At about midnight the first man and I were discussing M. Sarkozy's impending - and keenly anticipated - visit, in the street, when our conversation was gate-crashed by a beautiful woman in a chip shop queue. A new discussion evolved, and I abandoned my friend to the tender mercies of this lovely girl, and headed gratefully for my bed.

Everyone knows everyone else here. They also knew your father, your mother and the people who used to live in your house. So you have to be very, very careful what you say. And who you say it to…

Looking forward to some sun tomorrow, and a trip to the seaside.

Day 4

Every second building is a restaurant here, every third a bar, every fourth a venue – this, truly, is entertainment city...!

Another slice of Enda Walsh today – a touching Galway Youth Theatre production of CHATROOM (originally, I think, a National Theatre Connections piece), following on from last night’s dance: Tania Perez-Salas ‘s Compania de Danza, beautiful but without the mental (or physical) tautness of the previous night’s circus. And I always think it’s a copout using Arvo Part’s beautiful Cantus in Memory of Benjamin Britten as an underscore – a case of borrowed majesty.

Talking to Thomas in the bar later about the central position of storytelling and the monologue (one of Michael Billington’s personal betes noires!) in Irish theatre. He made a point which at last shone some illumination on the whole thing for me. The great Irish writers don’t aspire, in his opinion, to put the whole world on stage, or write ‘Condition of Ireland’ plays like Brit and American writers sometimes presume to. Each play, each story within the play has the status of a barroom or fireside story addressed to you, the audience. The intention simply to hold the attention of that audience for the duration of the gag, the story, the play, through the self-conscious artifice of story-telling…

Myself, I prefer genuine confrontation, but it would certainly explain a lot!

They say it only rains twice a week in the West of Ireland. Once for three days, once for four. Please shine, sun…

Day 3

Managed to do some writing of my own this morning - there's nothing like a break from childcare and the admixture of art and drink to get the synapses open!

Talking to writers in the Druid orbit it becomes clear that no organisation such as Script exists in Ireland. I had imagined that I would be leading a workshop or two here, but I think my sessions next week with the local writers will be concerned with much more basic questions such as:
How do I get my play in front of an audience? What kind of career structure is there for playwrights in Britain?

An extraordinary night at the circus last night. Circa's BY THE LIGHT OF THE STARS WHICH ARE NO LONGER had me mesmerised - a synaesthesia of acrobatic skill, hypnotic lighting and beguiling music. Not so impressed, however, were some of my companions, who felt - in common with some twitchy 8 year olds in my vicinity - that this wasn't really what had been promised on the can ie it wasn't a jolly circus with tricks and clowns, but something much closer to contemporary dance (and not proper dance either, sniffed another).
Maybe I don't get out enough, but I loved it.

A long walk home through Galway's club district last night - a bit of a saturnalia, but without the thuggish edge that wo uld accompany such scenes everywhere in England from Gateshead to Cheltenham.

The river here is the fastest-flowing I have ever seen. Mesmeric too, in its own way, a raging torrent which is, frankly, terrifying. Many of the bridges are fitted with anti-jump balustrades. A good thing too, in my view.

Day 2 Proper

Been here less than 48 hours, but already feel terrifically at home. Galway at Festival time is like a mini Edinburgh - the streets teeming with musicians and entertainers. My guest house overlooks a pub and a funeral directors, so that all feels as it should...


Saw the new Enda Walsh at Druid last night - a particularly fine example of a very particular type of Irish play. The shadow of Ireland's great writers lies long over the work of many contemporary Irish playwrights, but in The New Electric Ballroom the echoes of Beckett feel playful and justified, and the rewards for an audience who stick with this fine stab of thwarted love and trapped emotions in a small seaside town are considerable. Beautiful performances all round from a very strong cast.


Good story in the pub last night. Apparently, Beckett was once accosted in the streets of Paris by a man who professed to being a mime artist from Dublin. Beckett - terrified, backed up against a wall, and in any case believing the Irish to be the most non-physical of all peoples, replied, simply: "Swiss Navy", and legged it. (Think about it...)


Am being ably and staunchly looked after by Literary Manager Thomas Conway, himself in the throes of rehearsal for a play which opens next week.


There's something very open and fluid about festivals - people are up for a chat and you are never on your own for a second. Every town should have one!

Alan Pollock