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...