It’s time for a little sneak peak at what I’ve been up to in New Zealand!  You can have a glimpse at it below, laid out on my mother’s living room floor…

OR you can come to the Fringe Lab on Friday 7th December, and watch a group of incredible, talented performers bring the script to life for you.

The epic, trilingual project that is Te Rōhi is lucky enough to have the support of An Chomhairle Ealaíon and Toi Aotearoa for our development of the script. This helped us resource a devising period in both Auckland and Dublin, for myself and the team from Te Pou Theatre.  So, not only will I be presenting a Rehearsed Reading of Te Rōhi this December, but co-writer Amber Curreen and performer/director Tainui Tukiwaho will be over from NZ, and on the Irish side, we’ll be joined by Dylan Coburn-Gray of Malaprop Theatre, Ionia Ní Chroinín and Zita Monahan of Moonfish Theatre, and actor / comedian Sam Monaghan (no relation to Zita).

Wanna come?  Email me! It’s an invited audience showing with limited capacity, so I need exact numbers, but sure shoot me an email and I’ll try to squeeze you in!

S x

(I’m staying in the Gaeltacht for a bit, so I’m going to be blogging in Irish. I’m too lazy and contemptuous to post a translation, so maybe see you next week if you’re an ‘Aonteangach Éireannach’. If you’re a Gaeilgeoir, on the other hand, and you have ANY CORRECTIONS ON MY IRISH, publicly shame me in the comments. You know I need it. I get a kick out of it, too.)

Má chuimhníonn sibh an blag roimhe seo, táim ag scríobh ón Iarthar agus ag baint sult as na mórshiúlta, na tonnta, agus an teachín beag atá agamse ar cíos.  Níor dhúirt mé é sa bhlag, ach bhí mé ag déanamh cúrsa freisin i gColáiste Naomh Éanna. Shínigh mé suas chun cúrsa hÁrdleibhéal agus bhí mé ag súil go mór leis an seachtain lán Gaeilge, na céilithe móra, ag scréachadh Amhrán na bhFiann, agus tuilleadh.

Chuir mé cúig chuspóirí romham ar tús an tseachtain trí Ghaeilge, agus ab iad –

1. Tuiscint iomlán faoin Chopail
2. Meadú mo stór focal maidir leis rudaí ‘muirí’ (an fharraige, in ionad mo shlionne)
3. Níos mó nathanna cainte nadurtha a fháil
4. Tuiscint iomlán faoin an tAinmfhocal Briathartha agus tAidiacht Bhriathartha, Lagiolra agus Tréaniolra
5. Logainmneacha a phlé

Spriocanna praiticiúla agus filíochta, measchán idir gramadach agus comhrá, spraoi agus dáiríreacht. Seo é an plean ab é agamse.

An tSeachtain Fhada nuair a bhí mé i mo Mhúinteor Scoile

Áfach, bhí pleananna eile ag an lucht Naomh Éanna.

Bíonn fadhb amháin ag baint leis saol an scríbhneora – obraíonn tú ar do luas féin, agus tá tú in ann am a thógail amach as a phost más mian leat.  Agus, idir an 29ú Deireadh Fómhair agus an 2ú Samhain, bíonn gach ‘duine fasta’ eile ag obair go dhícheallach, seachas mé féin agus …. na múinteoirí. Sin an cúis gur é oiliúint SCG an speisialtóireacht ag Coláiste Naomh Éanna idir na laethanta sin, mar tá am saoire acu agus – maidir leis na dream á dhéanamh freastal in Ollscoilleanna thar lear – bíonn am acu ullmhú dona scrúdaithe fairsinge agus trámaitheacha a bheith rompu.

Cad é an SCG, fiafraíonn sibh? Is é an ‘Scrúdú le hAghaidh Cáilíochta sa Ghaeilge’ ainm iomlán atá air.  Is Scrúdú don múinteoirí pairtaimseartha é, le chéim i múineadh bunscoile ach gan Gaeilge acu, ab mhaith bheith ag obair lánaimseartha. Ní raibh a fhios agam faic faoi, freisin. Roimh a rinne mé an tríú cuid de.

Seo é  mo dheimhniú –

Agus cé go bhí mise agus Linda, mo chara nua, an BEIRT AS CAOGA DUINE ó mar sin nach bhfuil inár múinteoirí scoile, cuireadh muid sa rang céanna den na lucht SCG agus sin a bhí ár seachtain.

Cúpla machnamh faoin tseachtain fhada nuair a bhí mé i mo mhúinteor scoile…

1. Is cuid de dhlúth agus d’inneach na tíre seo í Máire Uí Chonghaile – As Inis Meain í, agus tá a cuid Gaeilge is binne, is sine, agus is grinne a chuala mé riamh roimhe. Bail ó Dhia ort, a Mháire! Is seoid náisiúnta í agus a leithéid.
2. Tá níos mó trua agam don fórmhór daoine gan aon suim i nGaeilge, a bheith naimhdeas acu faoin nGaeilge agus – thar rud ar bith eile – an lucht gurb fuath leo scoil. Bhí an tseachain deacair, leadránach agus chuirfí sí lagmhisneach oraibh. Na rudaí ab fuath an fórmhór daoine faoin gCoras Oideachas in Éirinn iad an smacht agus srian, an bhéim curtha ar fhoghlaim de ghlanmheabhair, agus an ró-tábhacht curtha ar scrúdaithe, cuirtear ar thíos leis an bhfoghlaim doimhne agus buaine. Agus ní haon ionadh go bhfuil an Choras mar seo, má mbíonn muid a theagasc ár múinteoirí sa bhealach céanna? Níl locht ar an gColaiste Naomh Éanna mar seo – tá siad ag déanamh iarracht curaclam casta a chlúdach in am gearr.
3. Is í smugairle róin an t-ainm atá ar an ‘jelly fish’ agus is í ‘seal snot’ an bhrí a bhaint leis i mBéarla!
4. Is seoid í múinteoir íontach, agus tá níos mó múinteoirí íontacha, le dúil acu ar Ghaeilge, ag taisteal uainn, más mian linn athbheochan Gaelach a leanúint ar aghaidh. Chomh fada agus is eol dom, bíonn fuath ar an nGaeilge a theagasc don ár múinteoirí bunscoile, ar aon nós na dream a bhuail mé sa choláiste seo.
5. Feamainn is í an t-ainm atá ar ‘seaweed’, ach is ‘turscar’ é an fheamainn a bheith fágtha agus an taoide thrá ann. Ciallaíonn an focal céanna ‘scourings’, ‘refuse’ agus ‘spam’, maidir le ríomhphoist!
6. Tá mo ghramadach níos measa ná a shíl mé – ach b’fhéidir chomh olc mar a shíl thú. Tá an fianaise soléir ar an mblag seo! Ach bhí an-fhorás tagtha orm maidir leis an Tuiseal Ghinideach, Inscne na hAinmfhocail, agus na hAinmfhocail agus tAidiachtaí Bhriathartha.
7. Logainmneacha? Ní fhoghlaim faic. Ach an bhrí don ‘Ros na Rún’, mar ghlac sé pairt mór san ullmhú don scrúdú béal san SCG. Ciallann Ros na Rún ‘Penninsula of Secrets’, agus is dóigh liom go bhfuil fuaim níos fearr air i nGaeilge.

S x

(I’m staying in the Gaeltacht for a bit, so I’m going to be blogging as Gaeilge. If you haven’t got any Irish, just check out the amazing pictures of where I’m staying below. It’s called Molly Baun’s Cottage in Spiddal, and I recommend it highly. Also check out the pictures of the Macnas Parade! And finally, if you’re a Gaeilgeoir and you have ANY CORRECTIONS ON MY IRISH, they are very welcome! Publicly shame me in the comments, I love it.)

Sian Ní Mhuirí anseo, ag chraoladh ón Gaeltacht agus ag tabhairt droch-úsáid mór don tuiseal ginideach, agus gach riail ghramadúil eile. Is dóigh (domsa) go bhfuil beagán disléicse agam, mar níl mo thuiscint ghramadúil agus litruí go híontach i mBéarla, gan bheith ag smaoineamh ar dara agus tríú teangacha… Ach ní bhacaim leis mar is ‘drips’ mór iad an dream bheith gafa le grammadach agus táim ag déanamh ceart go leor mar scríobhnóir gan ciall na teangeolaí. So… bí ag súil go mbéidh an scríbhneoireacht níos samhlaíche ná gnáth.

Ar an chéad dul síos, caithfidh mé mo chara nua Mary a moladh as ucht a teachín íontach, ina bhfuil mé ag stopadh sa Spidéal. Is ea Molly Baun’s Cottage an t-ainm atá air agus (cé go fuath liom Airbnb, yadda yadda) is aoibheann liom an teachín, agus sílim go bhfuil sé an lóistín ar cíos is fearr a fhuair mé riamh tríd an suíomh sin.  Feicígí ar na dathanna, na patrúin, an mheidir! Níl aon nasc WiFi ann, ach cheapaim gur rud mhaith é sin, mar tá orm níos mó am a chaitheamh ar mo STAIDÉAR.

Ar an dara dul síos, seo é an áit a bhí mé ag snámh Domhnach…  Fiú amháin go bhfuair mé bás cúpla nóiméad tar éis an ghriangraf…

Agus is é an mórshiúil a raibh mé ag féachaint ar tar éis an snámh, i gcathair na Gaillimhe.

Nach íontach an saol san iarthar!

Tá cúpla sprioc agam maidir leis an am a bheidh chaite agam sa Ghaeltacht. Baineann siad leis na tionscadail a mbéidh agam i rith na gheimhridh seo chugainn, agus rudaí eile suimiúil bheidh ag tosú sa bhliain nua. Is rudaí éagsúla iad na spriocanna, agus tugann siad fianaise díreach gur Gaelgóir ‘Mhaith-in-a-bheith’ mé (an bhfuil an chomhfhocail seo ‘rud’? Tá suil agam go bheith ‘rud’ é!) mar níl mé ábalta Gaeilge bhunúsach a thuiscint. Oh bhhhuuueeell….

Na spriocanna

1. Tuiscint iomlán faoin Chopail – Cén fáth go húsáideann muid ‘tá’ maidir le rud amháin agus ‘is é/í’ maidir le rud eile?  Is féidir liom an Chopail a húsáid an fórmhór den am, ach ní thuigim go díreach ceard é ‘The Copula’ mar coincheap agus na riaileacha éagsúla a bhaint leis.
2. Meadú mo stór focal maidir leis rudaí ‘muirí’ (an fharraige, in ionad mo shlionne) – Caithfidh mé aistriúchán a dhéanamh ar dhráma faoi liamhán gréine. Sin é.
3. Níos mó nathanna cainte nadurtha a fháil – Mar níl aon turn-of-phrase mar do thurn-of-phrase féin dúchasach.
4. Tuiscint iomlán faoin an tAinmfhocal Briathartha agus tAidiacht Bhriathartha, Lagiolra agus Tréaniolra – Cé go d’fhreastail tú ar mheanscoil in Éirinn, cé go rinne tú Gailge Ardléibhéal, táim beagnach cinnte ná chuala tú faoi ‘lagiolra agus tréaniolra’ riamh. ‘Weak plurals and strong plurals‘, nó ‘draíocht’ mar tugtar air maidir liomsa.
5. Logainmneacha á phlé – Mar is rudaí iontacha ceolmhara iad na logainmneacha i gConamara agus tá suim agam iontu.

Agus…

Sin a bhfuil na Príomhscéalta ón Iarthair.

S x

I went to see Serious Money last night at The Lir, with the cool kids from Malaprop Theatre, who sometimes let me eat lunch with them.  It was sexy and great and full of good jokes, fake cocaine and hard, hard rhyming. Director Oonagh Murphy did an amazing job with a tough play about the insider-trading, the financial madness of the nineteen eighties, and murder, which is inhibited by a clunk-a-dunk-a-dunk rhyming format that is, truly, annoying as *&%$ (trying not to swear is my new thing, I now say astreix-ampersand-percent-dollar and other whimsies). I can’t imagine how hard this script was to direct, knowing how good Oonagh is at directing in general, and yet still how tough dem words falls on your ears sometimes, but hey! Caryl Churchill can do what she likes, which she always does, which is why we love her.

But the show closed last night, so no point writing about how nice it was, and how satisfying that choreographed number in the middle was (right?) because you won’t see it.  Instead, let’s shout out to Molly O’Cathain, who designed this sexy beast of a show (and I’ve got picture evidence to prove it!)

Molly is the one below, second from the left, beside an older version of me from when I was trying to dress like a respectable citizen, had short hair and no tattoos on my hands.

Molly is an incredible theatre and set designer and the resident in house beauty-maker for Super Paua, (and for Malaprop, hence the group outing).  She’ll be a key collaborator for our forthcoming Pathways to Production Project.  Check out her Insta here and her website here for more example of her visually glorious creations.

We’re embarking on a couple of cool projects together this year, including one called Knapsack (more about that later) which is going to be design-led and devised, and explores packing bags and running away from home. It’s going to be an apocalyptic and fanciful and survivalist show-in-a-bag (literally) and we’re doing some development work with Branar in Galway this December for it. Can’t wait. BRING YOUR BUNKER ON YOUR BACK!

Anyway, as there’s very little point to the ‘My Friends Are Cooler Than Your Friends‘ blog format other than bigging up other creatives I know, I’ll leave it there, having passed on those tasty pictures and a whole bunch of links to Molly’s work.

Oh, and also a shout out to Elöise Stevenson, pictured below, who I have never met and do not know at all.  She absolutely stole the show during Serious Money.  Her performance comprised about 35% of what I liked about the play (Molly’s design get’s another 35% – the remaining percents are floating in space).

Slay, Cilla, slay.

(All Serious Money Photos are Keith Dixon photography)

S x

The third and final installment of my whirlwind of children’s theatre blogging is upon us!  And what a way to end the festival.  Unfortunately for Laika (who will absolutely never read this blog, so won’t care) I’m taking my Festival Award For Best In Baboró off Narrow, and giving it to the French sensation that is Bob Théâtre. Having seen their show before in a 2016 festival in Birmingham, I initially figured it would be uncouth of me to give my Best In Show to them. I wanted to be surprised, goddamit. But I wasn’t, because – as fabulous as the Branar’s and the Black Beauty’s and the Laika’s of the world are – Bob Théâtre’s Dracula story told with light-bulbs and a table cloth is second only to Squidboy as my favourite show of all time.

But before we get to the immaculate and incomparable feast that is Nosferatu, we’ll start with Cleite by Brú Theatre (who are also, incidentally, the other company chosen on the Pathways to Production development programme)….

CLEITE (Feather) – Brú Theatre (Ire)

The Gist… A mostly non-verbal show where an old Irish woman welcomes you into an old-timey thatched cottage (for real – the show is site-specific), as she tends to her chores and waits for news of an absent husband…

Go if… You want to see a performance using mask techniques, and hardly any language (only Irish, when it does appear), but perfectly crafted.  This is humorous, effective, and very touching storytelling where little is said, but a whole world is conveyed.

Avoid if… You don’t like sitting in small spaces with turf fires. You emerge from the cottage smoked as a kipper.

Go if… You love Sean nós. Performer Caitlín Ní Chualáin is a treat to listen to.

Avoid if… You’re someone who needs stories to be high-octane and full of fuss and noise.

Go if… You’re someone who needs stories to be high-octane and full of fuss and noise. You could learn something from this.  The show slows you down to it’s own time frame, and the audience is rewarded for waiting. One of its gifts it that the show transports you into a time of patience, presence and deep feeling.

Best moment… An cleite, an ceol agus an ciúnas. (The feather, the music, and the quiet)

BLACK BEAUTY – Red Bridge Arts & Traverse Theatre (Scotland)

The Gist… Two brothers called Andy – who are also the front and rear end of a Panto Horse – are waiting in their horse box for their next professional gig. As they wait, they tell each other the story of Black Beauty.

Disclaimer … I didn’t get to see the end of this show, as it started a little late, which meant I had to leave five minutes early in order to catch Nosferatu.

Go if… You like high-production value, visually magical children’s shows.

Avoid if… You don’t like panto. Not that this is a panto, per se, but it can be panto-esque in it’s size and expression

Go if… You like whimsy, physical comedy and horses.

Avoid if… You are expecting to be in and out of the theatre in the standard 60 minutes.  This is the first children’s show I’ve ever been to that has an interval (Pantos aside, which  – now that I’m typing it – makes sense).  Intervals create havoc with little people, but then again, long shows create havoc with little bladders. And the show is great, and doesn’t feel overly long. Had it not been for Nosferatu I would have happily stayed to see as much as they’d give me.

Go if… You want to see some truly clever examples of horse mimicry.  The two actors (Paul Curley is one, trying to find out the name of the other!) used old boots and old handbags to great affect in conjuring the equine.

Go if… You enjoy clever design and light-touch, well-executed audience interaction.

Best moment… Black Beauty’s dash through the forest, the first time that Hamish appears, and the delightfully inventive horse box.

NOSFERATU – Bob Théâtre (France)

The Gist… A vampire story told by two fantastically ghoulish Frenchmen, a table, loads of lights, and huge imagination.

Go if… You like a spook. This is good-old-fashioned-chills-down-your-spine spook stuff, the sort of stuff I used to seek out in R. L. Stine and Are You Afraid of the Dark? The sort of stuff we wish Halloween was.  Still-safe, satisfying, scary magic.

Go if… You like to laugh / are a human.  Nosferatu is so creative and so funny that it will delight adults as much as kids.  The children in the audience of our show on Friday came as close to giving a standing ovation as any young audience I’ve ever seen.  I think they would have given one, had they known what a standing ovations was.  They were practically leaping out of their seats in praise of the two Bobs.

Go if… You hate the idea of ‘puppetry’ or ‘puppet theatre’, because this show will prove that all of your misconceptions are just those. If you do not like Nosferatu, you are empirically wrong.

Best moment… The opening with the bones. The slow unscrewing of the lights.  The first appearance of Dracula. The ship. The rats leaving the ship. The picture of Elena. Nurse Wilkommen.  But more than anything else – THE CARPATHIAN TABLECLOTH.

S x

Day two of Baboró was a little less busy than day one, on account of a double booking, a talk, and a meeting with the amazing Zita Monahan and Ionia Ní Chróinín, who’ll be working with me on Te Rōhi. Still, I managed to squeeze in two children’s shows, one in particular that totally stole my (imaginary, but very prestigious) Festival Award For Best In Baboró. That show was Narrow (Nipt). Pithy comments on that, below…

NARROW (Nipt) – Laika (Belgium)

The Gist… A couple move into a box house not much bigger than 2m x 2m, and have to squeeze and push and bum-wiggle their way towards domestic bliss. A technically complex but easy to watch, funny, intimate show about a couple in love, during the hard times as well as the good.

Go if… You love playing house and/or playing with miniature versions of household things, and you are the sort of person who gets great pleasure out of well packed lunches in quality Tupperware. Mmmmm that’s some damn fine ergonomic use of space.

Avoid if… You’re claustrophobic. The show is a bit stressful to watch for the first five minutes.

Go if… You’ve been through a break-up, or you’ve just moved in with a partner and have realised how annoying they are, and you want a nice, hopeful story with a happy ending.

Avoid if… You have something against love.

Go if… Just go. My pick of the festival so far.

Best moment… The night sky, the cactus, and that tiny hole for putting away the rubbish.

IS THIS A DAGGER? – Andy Cannon and Red Bridge Arts (Scotland)

The Gist… A one man, one hour, Macbeth. Simple.

Go if… You have, for whatever reason, no love for or connection to the works of Shakespeare but you’d like to develop one. This is a great accessible, fun intro.

Avoid if… You expect this Macbeth to be as gory or devilish as the real thing. Or you love the character of Lady Macbeth, who barely gets a look in.

Go if… You want to engage young boys specifically in theatre, who are otherwise slightly sceptical.

Avoid if… You’re a Shakespearean purist (ewww, go ‘way)

Go if… You’re an actor or theatre-maker who is interested in making a neat, nicely presented show-in-a-bag (or show-in-a-bucket, in this case) which could sweep up the festival circuit and, I imagine, tour well in schools.

Best moment… The witches. The folding map crown was neat, as were the facts about the true story of Macbeth. Also, this bit of Andy Cannon magic….

‘Banquo was Macbeth’s handsome friend.’

*Banquo throws his scarf over his shoulder, tosses his hair*

‘Hiiiiiiiiiiii’.

Was very funny, at the time.

Perhaps you had to be there.

S x

Day One at Baboró has passed, which means I’m right up in the personal space of My Happy Place, gorging myself at the buffet of theatre. Also, gorging myself at the breakfast buffet at Menlo Park Hotel,which is truly excellent.

Aside from the general splendour of the programme, one of the reasons why Baboró International Festival for Children is my favourite ever is on account of its excellent Delegate Programme. Theatre-makers who regularly attend city-wide festivals will know that they can be expensive and hard to navigate (geographically as well as interpersonally). After the expenses of accommodation and travel, you have the mounting cost of tickets, internal travel between shows and, in Ireland, the mounting costs of pints. And as an emerging or independent artist, who doesn’t have a big company name behind you, not only do you end up footing your own bills for all of the above, but you also can find yourself at Festival Hubs or artists nights on your own. Even for theatre extroverts, this intimidating situation can lead you to staring awkwardly into the middle distance or re-reading the programme until a vaguely recognisable face arrives, or until you cut your loses, sink your wine, and slink off into the night feeling like a real Séamy Gan Cairde.

Baboró, on the other hand, is incredibly affordable. At €60 per Delegate Pass, you get unlimited access to shows (that goes down to €35 if you’re a student or on the dole). I would regularly get tickets to eight to ten shows, attend two artists talks, two Delegate Nights, and drink three-to-four free pints per festival. And as everything happens in the jewel in the crown of Gaelic Cuteness – Galway, City of Tribes – the venues are close, easily walkable, well sign-posted and overwhelmingly wheelchair accessible.

Not only this, but the line-up is inspired. If you’re an old hat at children’s theatre, you will see many of the great Irish names premiering new work alongside exciting emerging companies, and the best that the European continent has to offer. If you’re new to children’s theatre, this is should be your first port of call. Yearly attendance at Baboró teaches you all you need to know, and who.

And finally, while the theatre is world class, so are the people. In my mind, one of the defining operational differences between children’s theatre sector and the grown-up theatre sector is interpersonal. Children’s theatre – being socially focused, truly wondrous, and universally undervalued as a practice – attracts very nice people who seem, by nature, to be amiable, community minded and less competitive. No one’s in it for the fame, let’s just put it like that.Resources are shared, new members are welcomed. Acquaintances quickly become friends. There are considerably less Harvey Weinstein’s or Michael Colgan’s per capita in children’s theatre – no one with any sense can claim to be part of a community devoid of predators, but I can claim to be in one comparitively lacking in them. This is a feature which is rare and unique in arts communities.

So, that’s my pitch for Baboró, should you be thinking of hopping a train, and it’s also my pitch for Theatre for Young Audiences, should you be thinking of giving it a whack, professionally. And in that vein, here are three excellent shows to catch a glimpse of if they pass through your town.

I don’t want to write arduous reviews of shows any more than you want to read them, so I include only the essentials below…

SKY – Teater Minsk (Denmark)

The Gist – An adorable dance piece for children 18 months to five years, based on the beauty and boisterousness of clouds and the sky.

Go if … You’ve / you’re a child aged 1-5

Avoid if … You’re irritated by children aged 1-5 making noise in the theatre (get off my blog, you ungodly bore)

Go if … You love dance, sensorial theatre, and being pulled around the room on a blanket by strong, Danish arms.

Avoid if … You don’t enjoy joy and have a thing against clouds (why, sad adult?)

Best Moment – A toddler stands up on her cloud to watch as a performer floats by, dancing close to said-toddlers eye level, so the little girl says ‘I STOOD BECAUSE MY BUM HURTS’.

TETRIS – Arch8 (Netherlands)

The Gist – A dance quartet mimic the game of Tetris in a geometric, physical performance which get’s the kids out of their seats.

Go if … You’ve got a class of primary school children at your disposal. This piece is great for young groups.

Go if … You like physical comedy with your dance. Tetris stops short of being guffawy-slapstick, but retains a childlike sense of fun.

Avoid if … You’re intimidated by children in large numbers and delightful anarchy (I told you to get out of here, you sham of a man)

Best Moment … The end. No spoilers.

HOW TO CATCH A STAR – Branar Téatar do Pháistí (Ire)

The Gist – A puppet show for 4-7 year olds based on the beloved book by award-winning Irish author Oliver Jeffers about a boy eager to catch his very own star.

Go if … I don’t really need to say much more that ‘Oliver Jeffers’ and most children and/or parents will understand why to go.

Go if … You value precision. This is pitch-perfect, slick puppetry and design without a hair out of place.

Go if … You want to see one of the best in the Irish industry.

Avoid if … I can’t think of a reason to.

Best Moment … The worm. Simple poetry in motion.

S x

I’ve been relatively quiet since I’ve been back from NZ, theatrically.

I’ve certainly been posting more about Polyglots and books than my own productions.

This hasn’t been a dry spell so much as a period of planning and incubation.  Aside from the epic trilingual feat that is Te Rōhi, the influx of drama teaching gigs which marks the beginning of the school term, and a seemingly endless stream of funding/support applications, this has been a time of reflection and re-imagining for me.

The exciting news is that I’m re-launching my company Super Paua, with significant changes to vision, operations, and brand (that website linked above is on the way out, also, so watch this space for news of it’s successor).

In the first of several up-coming announcements about my work, and the work of the soon-to-be-re-branded Super Paua, I’m delighted to announce that my new play The Lonsdale Project has been chosen for development by Baboró International Festival for Children, Galway, as part of their Pathways To Production scheme.

This means that the Super Paua team get production support, including get mentoring, consultancy, in-kind resources, and cash-kind resources to develop a new show on the life and scientific work of Kathleen Lonsdale – the Irish-born badass vegan prison-reforming Quaker chemist. Expect deadly AV, lasers, whirling symmetry, humour, and hexamethylbenzene.

More information about this will be dripping into the feed, but for – I’m delighted to be involved in such a cool development process with Baboró, and I want to thank them for being so incredibly supportive of this daring, interdisciplinary adventure!

S x

• Photo from the Vegan Society Website article – couldn’t find an original photographer, but crediting the original article here.

I’ve had the Dublin Theatre Festival programme in my room for months, adorned with a post-it saying ‘EARLY BOOKING ESSENTIAL’. Yet, did last-month Sian heed her own advice, and grab tickets to The Lost O’Casey? Basic organisational skills would be a fine thing.

No heavy hitters from DTF will be appearing on the blog. A late theatre goer gets the return-worms, as the saying goes, but that doesn’t necessarily reflect on the quality of the less hyped DTF offerings. First up, The Fever…

The Fever – 600 Highwaymen (USA)

Imagine your friend calls and invites you to dinner and a show. They tell you they have tickets to a play, and they’ll treat you to an early-bird in town before heading in to see it. The starters arrive, and the chicken wings go down well – the blue cheese dip is satisfyingly chunky (the restaurant in question is Farm). No mention of anything unusual or theatrically noteworthy during the delicious fish pie, and the under-seasoned chickpea Jalfrezi. Then coffee, a stroll through Trinity to the Samuel Beckett Theatre, and finally, as the doors open and you take your place in the queue, imagine your ticket-holding friend says –

‘By the way, this show is entirely interactive…’

It would not be unreasonable for you to respond to your ticket holding friends last-minute admission with a summary execution. To lead a person blind into an actor inhabited torture chamber (which is the majority of participatory theatre, if not the majority of theatre itself…) is a rank injustice to your comrade. The fact that I survived and live to tell the tale is further proof of how good the chicken wings at Farm are.

After the fully-participatory show, however, I can say that we need not been afraid. 600 Highwaymen – a company that make work that depends on the conditions of live performance, like ‘carefully orchestrated convergences‘ – know what they are doing. They not only know their way around an audience, they probably know their way around our intuitive dislike of ‘their type’. Whether you are reluctant, nervous, or down right bolshie – the woman beside me refused to join in a prompted group movement because, and I quote, ‘This is how the Nazi’s came to power‘ – 600 Highwaymen will manage your experience expertly. By the end, we would have followed them into almost anything – a power of manipulation that they never exploited, thankfully.

To say too much about this show is to ruin it. All I’ll say is this – it wasn’t what I expected, but I enjoyed it. The Fever was soft where I expected edges, and it was very gentle and enticing where I expected to be challenged.

This is not necessarily a bad thing – not every show needs to be a polemic hot-take on current politics – even ones billed as ‘a response to the current polarised social and political climate of the United States‘. But if this is what you are interested (which is, looking back, what hooked me) don’t expect 600 Highwaymen’s response to this political climate to involve any concrete political material. It’s a delicate, strange piece, and I think the claim that The Fever ‘focuses on the place where loneliness and togetherness meet‘ is a more accurate description of what happens in this performance.

The blurb on DTF press also stated ‘The Fever begs the question, ‘Who will you be when our eyes are on you? What will we see when we all look your way?’ To me theatre rarely begs anything, and this show in particular didn’t beg that question at all. And even if it gave up begging and gently asked something of us, that something seemed to be ‘In how many ways and for how many reasons do individuals surrender to a group? What happens to us – as doers, viewers, in-groups and out-groups – when we move in time?’

The answer was nebulous but, in this case, worth the asking.

S x

Just a quick round up of some of my more fantastic friend news from September-October. Some delicious Ireland and UK based second-hand brags….

BLACK JAM : CURE at the Dublin Fringe Festival

First up is my coven leader, Yemi aka Osaro aka Amanda Azams aka the founder of and driving force behind Fried Plantains Collective (viewers of the performance page may also recognise her as Clarke from 16 & Rising).  Fried Plantains is, to my knowledge, the only organisation in Ireland dedicated to providing a raucous, lit, BYOB sesh celebrating the Afro-Irish community and the black queer artistry in Dublin. It’s guaranteed the best night out you’ll have in this city for a tenner plus whatever you spend on cans (with free entry for asylum seekers and those in Direct Provision).  Deadly DJ’s, subversive merch stalls, gas comedians, male and female and queer rappers and poets, and performances from the likes of Damola, Blackfish Collective and Mai. As expected by FPC cult members such as myself, BLACK JAM : CURE was a sold-out, sweat dripping down the walls,  tits flying and face melting gig.  Yemi threw the best party of the Fringe, and now she shares The Judges Choice Award with Dublin legends Glitterhole.

OVERFIRED at the Dublin Fringe Festival

Second cool friends of September are the indomitable Stephen Quinn aka Stefan Fae, and the incredible Lady K – winners of the Outburst Queer Fringe Award for their cabaret-call-to-arms, Overfired.  The dynamic duo are heading up to the amazing Outburst Festival of Queer Arts in Belfast this November, and you should go.  Outburst is also a generally amazing performance festival, which gave us so much support during the creation of Aunty Ben. They support (and pay) artists properly, and I have a lot of time for them. So Overfired at Outburst is a coming together of two awesome favourites of mine.  Three, if you count Stefan Fae and Lady K’s version of millenial smash hit ‘Blue’.

Full festival details will be announced soon, watch this space.

COMPASS FESTIVAL and the wonder of Peter Reed

(Photo – Lizzie Coomber, for Jack Tan’s Four Legs Good)

A good friend of mine, who even managed to wrestle me into a man’s suit as one of the Grooms at his wedding, runs a very prestigious live art festival in Leeds. Not only is is prestigious, exciting, high quality and engaging – it’s also free. You heard me right, totally free for the people of Leeds. This is, or should be, the goal for all who make the arts with an eye to public good, social change, civic engagement.  Do me a favour and just watch their video here, and you’ll fall instantly in love. And you’ll meet Pete! His hair is even redder than mine, but I’m not even jealous, because we’re chums.

The link is also to their Kickstarter which is ending in THREE DAYS (eeep!). I will very rarely do this (and – as a developing policy, only for campaigns with a demonstrable social good, and only once ever per organisation) but if you have a few quid, chuck it Compass-ward.  Link to their campaign here.

S x