This review was originally written for the Londonist.
Let’s start with the ending as that was our favourite bit. Chaos gives way to violence that gives way to song that gives way to ribald dancing that gives way to death on a darkening stage. A 19 year old English soldier, held hostage in a Dublin brothel, is taken hostage in revenge for the planned hanging of a young IRA man in Belfast. A pointless and pitiful end arrives amid a confusion of comic folk song and dance.
Set in 1958, The Hostage is a loud play, populated by grandiose but seedy people that are all flawed. It’s entertaining and unstoppable, there are few pauses or quiet moments, but it’s dark. We don’t get to know any of the characters well, none have any depth. They’re all bold caricatures – some sexy, some camp, some nostalgic, some ridiculous. But they all seem hopeless, concerned by some vague bigger cause but caught up in the petty frivolities of a down at heel boarding house. The young people are shallow and the older people’s unreliable reminiscences are full of faults.
We found this staging a struggle at first, but the performance drew us in more once the hostage actually arrived, once it had a focus and it started to build towards its tragi-comic climax. Written by infamous playwright and drinker Brendan Behan, it’s the first time The Hostage has been performed in London for over 15 years, a revival the Southwark Playhouse are shouting about. It was interesting to watch this at a time when Northern Irish politics are headline news, to see some context to current negotiations, be that background in a somewhat exaggerated and farcical form.
The Hostage runs at the Southwark Playhouse until the 20th February.
This review was originally written for the Londonist
This is possibly one o
f the strangest things I’ve ever seen on stage. A series of seven ‘short visual and sound events for two performers’, A Distances is hard to explain. To the sound of endless dripping water, which makes the ICA theatre feel like a shadowy cave, the audience watches various objects slide and swerve across the stage, manipulated by barely visible strings that weave around and under the space.
A tiny stage on wheels full of noise and light, and operated by a complex system of strings pulled from afar, starts things off. Random cogs and arms make delicious sounds and a cold mechanical system seems to breathe. As the chapters progress, a mysterious man does odd battle with plates, stools and swinging balls. The man paints huge great self portraits. He catches a tiny projection of a person in a box and squashes him flat in a book. He illustrates Shakespeare with a cupboard full of phonemes and unravels time with a glass of water. He makes magic with the austere assistance of an opulently dressed woman.
By the close of the final chapter, the man who started off shielding his face from the audience is addressing us directly, staring at us with his wild brown eyes and talking philosophy in a luxuriously thick French accent. He is Jean Pierre Larroche and he is brilliant in this. Larroche, and fellow performer Marion Lefebvre, create a bizarre atmosphere on stage but their work is intriguing and compelling.
A Distances is a Les Ateliers du Spectacles production and is part of the ongoing London International Mime Festival, which runs until the end of the month. It’s utterly odd but rather wonderful and worth catching if you have time this weekend. It’s on at the ICA until Sunday.
This review was originally written for the Londonist
The piece begins with wheels moving in shadowy darkness, the human figures powering them barely visible. As the stage is lit, a machine is revealed – a central wheel surrounded by smaller cogs and linked with thick swinging ropes. Four people work the wheels, ropes and cogs, moving systematically and following orders that flow from a loudspeaker.
As they repeat the routine of turning the wheel (think of a huge wooden hamster wheel), each worker’s character is slowly revealed. Each has their own style of working and their own work call. From nowhere, a fifth person is thrown into the equation and the rest of the piece shows how their routine gradually unravels as their individual needs and fears become more pronounced.
Ockham’s Razor explain that they wanted to “make a show that sprang from the sweat, grind, pain and sheer difficulty of aerial…we wanted to tell a story that was inherent with our labour. Essentially we wanted to make a piece about work”.
The Mill grinds slowly through its story. It’s noisy, full of grunts, moans and yelps. This show is part of the ongoing London International Mime Festival but don’t think that mime is silent. It’s about communicating in a very physical way but not about suppressing the voice. This piece echoes with the performers’ groans and is accompanied by sounds that move through creaking clunks to more melodic, swinging violin.
There are some joyful moments – the worker who playfully tightrope walks along the rope while he labours; the swooping swinging of their dreams during a designated rest period; and one of the final scenes when they spin wildly in the machine like it’s a ferris wheel at a fairground. But the performance is slow-going and repetitive and it feels as if we don’t get to see what the performers are really capable of. They seem restricted – and they are, by their work and the machine and an unseen boss – but it’s a little frustrating for an audience that waits for some aerial marvels that never quite arrive.
The London International Mime Festival continues – find out what’s on at www.mimefest.co.uk
I found out about Seedy Sunday a while ago. At first, I was simply intrigued by the playful name but, with more research, I was won over completely by the idea of people coming together to swap seeds, in a bid both to promote community growing and to protect plant biodiversity. 2009 was to be the year I grew my very own set of green fingers, but this aim seemed fairly abstract in the frozen early months after the initial heat of ambitious New Year resolutions. Taking a day trip to the south coast to be amongst my new fellow growers seemed the perfect bleak mid winter antidote.
The air was ice cold and the wind fierce, but the light was lovely – a kind of fuzzy pink haze over a dark grey winter sea. Hove was full of bobble hats and cheeks bitten rosy by the wind and kissed with snow. Lots of people were out, taking the Sunday sea air and walking the beach hut lined stretch towards Brighton. But I wasn’t there to indulge in windswept beachside strolls, I was there to do some serious seed shopping.
Seedy Sunday was born eight years ago by the Brighton and Hove Organic Gardening Group after members stumbled upon a seed swapping event in Canada. The minute they got back to the UK they started planning their first swap here. The annual seed extravaganza has grown and grown, best illustrated by the fact they’ve moved from the small St George’s Hall in Kemptown, Brighton to the imposing Hove Town Hall. At the 2009 event 1200 people explored 39 stalls. There were films, workshops and a cafe as well as seeds and plants to pick up.
All kinds of people were there, young and old, and the atmosphere in the bustling hall was noisy and full of joy. I confess, as a brand new grower, I found it slightly overwhelming. So much expertise and enthusiasm for gardening in one place, and just so many seeds and possibilities, made me feel my lack of growing knowledge keenly. But I got over that, admitted to knowing nothing and took all the advice I could from those that were happy to offer it.
The United Nations estimates that 75% of global plant diversity has been lost in the past 100 years. The Seedy Sunday campaign is about protecting biodiversity in the UK and protesting against a focus on large scale growing and retailing. The people behind the event and the campaign believe that, by growing open pollinated or ‘heritage’ plant varieties, then saving and swapping the seeds, growers can keep so called ‘outlawed’ seed varieties alive and boost biodiversity.
Seedy Sunday campaigners explain that flowering plants that grow from the F1 seeds sold by big seed companies aren’t capable of producing usable seeds for the next season, so growers have to buy new seed every year. At the same time, in the name of protecting growers from the risk of buying unsound seeds, governments produce National Lists that outline the varieties that can be legally bought and sold.
Seedy Sunday argues that EU legislation strengthens the position of the big seed companies, and so encourages the use of F1 seeds, by making it illegal to trade seeds from varieties that aren’t officially ‘Listed’. If a variety isn’t ‘Listed’ it’s actually illegal to buy or sell it. This is why seed swaps don’t charge for unlisted seeds but ask for a donation to cover costs instead.
Seedy Sunday warns that thousands of unlisted garden varieties are disappearing. And with them goes some of the genetic raw material that will allow plants to adapt and survive in the future. “The campaign to protect our seeds stretches around the world, but it has its roots in your garden. By growing open-pollinated varieties, then saving and swapping the seeds, growers can keep alive unlisted varieties, conserve biodiversity and limit corporate control of the basis of life” say campaigners.
You can go to Seedy Sunday without any seeds to swap, which was a relief as I didn’t have any! The seeds aren’t for sale in the same way they would be in a shop because they’re all unlisted, but you are expected to make a donation for everything you choose to take home. On average a packet of seeds was about £1, which was an absolute bargain and a god send for a gardener on a budget. There were also lots of money saving deals if you bought in bulk.
On entering the hall, what struck me first and made me fall completely in love with the place was the beautiful way some people had packaged their seeds. Homemade packets decorated with scraps of colourful paper and gorgeous swirling writing were all very appealing. I admit my first purchase, of some red rum runner bean seeds, was made purely because the packaging was so nice!
Another thing that was absolutely brilliant were the names of the seeds, things like ‘drunken woman’ and ‘fat lazy blonde’ lettuce, ‘flamingo beet’ chard, ‘hungry gap’ cabbage, ‘Hungarian hot wax’ peppers and ‘nun’s belly button’ beans. So my seed choices were dictated more by the romance of the words and the prettiness of the packets rather than anything more sensible.
It’s now almost a year since my snowy Seedy Sunday adventure and I’m pleased to report that my year of growing green fingers has been a success. My seeds were loved and nurtured and grew into handsome plants, providing me with endless pleasure and some delicious meals. Hot pink French breakfast radishes and flamingo beet chard were particularly pretty. I’ll definitely go again, perhaps with some seeds of my own to swap this time.
The event inspired me to do some small scale seed swapping of my own too. I had a surplus after my Hove shopping spree, plus a collection of freebies from magazines and seeds people had donated to me. When a friend revealed plans to do a little guerrilla gardening on a patch of land in east London, I happily made tiny seed packets from old envelopes, decorated them with coloured pens, filled them with seeds and donated them to the cause. Funnily the swap itself ended up happening in the pub.
I’d like to try and do something a little more organised this year and will be turning to the Seedy Sunday website for advice. There’s a comprehensive online guide how to set up your own seed swap – visit www.seedysunday.org. The movement is spreading and Seedy Sundays are now taking place across the country. The next Seedy Sunday at Hove Town Hall takes place on the 7th February 2010.
This article appears in the February issue of Kitchen Garden magazine
This review was originally written for the Londonist
The use of cardboard was what made this Blind Summit / BAC production shine for us. Just plain old brown card that threw fabulous shapes. From simple sign posts to junk shop ephemera, and from articulated wildlife to little old men, the cardboard was brilliant. Favourite card sequences included an early one where the thought criminal (Winston) and the whore (Julia) meet clandestinely in a forest populated by cardboard owls, rabbits and song thrushes.
Another was our first encounter with Charrington in his junk shop. The elderly shop owner was a magnificently operated puppet, with soft body and an angular, oversized cardboard head. A third was a condensed version of an illicit text by the elusive Goldstein. It was played out behind a bed sheet, the ideas explained frantically with various cardboard props. 1984 is not purely made of card though and relies mainly on human rather than puppet performance. It’s performed by a seven person strong cast and, intentionally no doubt, the main protagonists are very rarely alone on stage.
The play is pretty funny at points, especially in the first half, but it’s comedy edged with a chill. Stripped down, the costumes and set are minimal but the characters are caricatures, loud and exaggerated. Despite the simple set, it’s a busy and noisy production and at points confusing. The actors’ movements are well choreographed but their lines are delivered with a ferocity that feels like you’re being shouted at. We wondered whether it was necessary to bellow stage directions at the audience.
1984 is a dense, heavy going novel and translating it to the stage is a challenge. We liked this play but weren’t totally satisfied by it. Though fans of the card, we weren’t completely convinced by the people inhabiting the cardboard world or the decision to make the story comic. It is worth seeing though, especially as it’s an excuse to spend an evening at lovely BAC.
Blind Summit’s 1984 runs at the Battersea Arts Centre (BAC) from 2nd – 23rd December and 4th – 9th January at 7.30pm. £10-16. Read the Blind Summit blog for the inside story.
From eyesore to architectural feat, people’s opinions of the inner city tower block range from horror to awe, but most would likely suggest such buildings have little or no wildlife value. But the people who live in them disagree…
Daphne and Lillian, two ladies who have called an imposing Hackney tower block home for over thirty years, rave about the natural spectacles they witness from their cloud capped building. The pair sit in the kitchen of a seventh floor flat, smoking cigarettes and reminiscing, all the time framed by a window that has sweeping views out over East Reservoir, Stoke Newington and beyond to central London.
Your eyes can trace the shapes of the Gherkin, BT Tower and London Eye, before settling closer to home on the steeple of Saint Mary’s New Church and then on the many birds resting on the glittering water at the tower block’s feet.
“The first time I came here I really couldn’t believe it, it’s such a wonderful view. From the street you’d never think it” says Daphne. “I’d spend hours staring out of the window at first. My mother used to say you could never be depressed in this flat because of the view, because you got to see all four seasons in detail. In the winter, when it snows, you look out and it’s like a village, with the snow on the trees and on the church. It’s so pretty.”
Lincoln Court doesn’t look especially pretty from the outside. It’s a tall, grey wedge of concrete and the main reception area is almost grim. But ascend a few floors and enter Daphne’s spacious, light-filled flat and you’re transported to another world. “You look out and you don’t see other people’s windows and walls, you see vast open space” says Daphne. The ladies feel blessed. “You’d miss out on all this if you were on the ground in a house” adds Lillian.
“You know when it’s most wonderful?” Daphne asks. “In the summer when there’s a storm. I love storms. We watched one at 3am in the morning once. We were glued to the windows watching it break over the reservoir. The water looked electric lit up by flashes of lightning. It was fantastic. We also get some really beautiful sunsets. When you’ve lived up high for a few years you really start to appreciate what you’ve got, it’s amazing.”
For Lillian, it’s the creatures and natural dramas she witnesses from her high rise perch that make her love life in Lincoln Court. She adores foxes and watches a local family of them every day, recognising individuals and learning to understand their behaviour. She recalls an incident three years ago when she saw a partridge from her flat. Watching the bird through her binoculars, she found her local foxes had also seen it and were in hot pursuit. With delight she exclaims that the partridge shot up a pear tree and escaped.
Lillian is a birdwatcher and has seen everything from jays to kestrels high up on the tower block’s ledges. “In the summer I left some food on my windowsill and a jay came and took it. There are four of them now.” Seagulls have recently moved in and the ladies comment that Canada geese used to be reservoir regulars but don’t visit any more. They’ve watched the reservoir change over the years, saying it seems smaller now as the reed beds gain strength. After initial concerns, both are huge fans of London Wildlife Trust’s community garden on the water edge.
Mark Pearson works for the Trust at the East Reservoir Community Garden and believes the local tower blocks are an essential part of the landscape. A fanatic birder, he relishes the views afforded by such buildings.
“Being fascinated by London’s ever-changing avifauna, I spend more time looking up than is probably healthy in a city of white van drivers and bendy buses, but it’s more than worth it – there’s an incredible variety of birdlife above us in the city skies.
Visible migration involves the ebb and flow of migrating birds overhead, and is a phenomenon that is especially dramatic in late autumn. Raptor-watching, meanwhile, is concentrated mainly in the main migration windows of spring and autumn.
To appreciate these spectacles, there is no better (or more comfortable) venue than high up in a tower block. I’ve been lucky enough to see osprey, black kite, honey buzzard and marsh harrier circling over the reservoir – special enough from the ground, but much more dramatic from Lincoln Court, the tower blocks that overshadow the water.
The extra height from tall buildings gives unrivalled views of many birds in flight, from large raptors to battalions of smaller birds. If you live or work in a London tower block, think of your window or balcony as a private, all-mod-cons bird observatory – because that’s exactly what it is.”
This article appears in the winter 2009 issue of Wild London magazine
Talking green design and the wonders of Wandsworth with sustainable development and regeneration expert Lorna Walker.
I first came across Lorna Walker at a ‘Sustainable Cities’ event at the British Library, organised by the Natural Capital Initiative. She delivered an inspiring speech that made me proud to call London, the greenest city in the world, home. She focussed on empowerment and the benefits of urban greening, rather than statements of doom and gloom. Lorna seemed sure that people could do much to equip urban areas to cope with climate change.
The second time I met Lorna was in the leafy surroundings of her south London home. I walked there across an autumnal Wandsworth Common, admiring trees gently haloed with gold and bushes studded with bright red berries. We sat in her airy conservatory and watched birds swarm over her feeders and squirrels hop noisily across her roof.
Lorna was born and brought up in southern Africa, but has lived in London for over 30 years. She’s worked as a director at Arup and was a member of Richard Roger’s Urban Task Force. She now runs her own business and is a commissioner for CABE (Commission for Architecture and the Built Environment).
“Urban is my joy” she says. “Cities are fantastic. They are where you will find the solutions to many of our problems.”
London is definitely her favourite. “I just adore London, I think it’s the best place to live in the world, it has such choices and such diversity. When I got married we moved to Wandsworth. It has the most green space of all the London boroughs, plus you’re close to the river and it’s not that far from town.
“London has parks all over it, squares and hidden little jewels – it’s 37% designated green space, not counting gardens. Green spaces mean better air and trees clean up pollution. In the future, they are going to be more important than ever if we’re to cope with extreme weather events.”
Sustainable design is becoming an often heard term, but what does it mean? “It means common sense and good design, for people. Sustainability is about doing one thing that has about five positive effects. And one of the imperatives is continuous improvement – you don’t have to change the world by Tuesday, but you can do a bit, if you believe every little bit counts.
“A lot of effort is going into improving the energy efficiency of buildings, but there’s also now much more work focusing on the edges of buildings and nurturing green space around them. For example, urban ventilation systems, where you allow areas for air to move, quite often over water, can help mitigate against the urban heat island effect.”
For Lorna, green space is central to happiness. She says she wouldn’t survive in London without access to nature. She also suggests that happiness is starting to become accepted as a kind of science, explaining that it’s connected to health and community, which are in turn intrinsically linked to spending time outside. Statistics show that vast swathes of the population, young and old, are depressed. “Parks and furry things, talking to other people and being active, the spaces where people can do those things are really important.”
Access to green spaces for Lorna, who is a wheelchair user, can be difficult in London but she is full of praises for improvements that are slowly being made. The Thames footpath is a particular favourite. “It was originally designed for cyclists but it’s great for wheelchairs. My pet hate though is gravel, it’s absolutely impossible for wheelchairs, you just can’t get over it.”
And what are Lorna’s favourite green spaces and London views? She loves Wandsworth Common and the Isabella Plantation in Richmond Park, which is “totally magical all year round”. The best views are to be had from buildings like the OXO tower and Centre Point, or along the river from the Albert and Hammersmith bridges.
But most of all she loves her “green but unkempt garden”, where she and her sister counted over 23 species of birds last year. She works mainly from home and says the more she looks the more she sees. She keeps it wild and spends as much time as she can simply watching, delighting in everything from bees and beetles to bright green parakeets.
Lorna Walker is managing director of Lorna Walker Consulting, which focuses on sustainable development and urban regeneration. She is commissioner for CABE (Commission for Architecture and the Built Environment) and has just finished working on a Foresight report about sustainable energy and management in the built environment. Find out more on www.lornawalker.co.uk
This article appears in the winter 2009 issue of Wild London magazine
This review was originally written for the Londonist
Part of the Suspense London Puppetry Festival, Perseus and the Gorgon’s Head played at The Little Angel Theatre this weekend. Mixing people with puppets, the performance was an interpretation of an ancient Greek tale written by the late Adrian Mitchell.
The people took the form of five storytelling gods, given to meddling with the lives of unfortunate human beings as a way of relieving themselves of the boredom of eternal life. The puppets were both a mixture of beautifully carved creations, operated generally by hand but also by string, and playful use of everyday objects and cloth.
The story was a classic, that of a son of Zeus, Perseus, who is challenged to kill Medusa, the infamous Gorgon who has snakes for hair and whose gaze turns men to stone. The set was inventive, transforming from a feast laden table into a stage where bronze towers rose and sea monsters were defeated.
The main character puppets were elegant and simple forms, but with detailed costumes and distinct personalities. The three grey ladies were a particular delight. Voluminous dresses housed three withered hags with only one eyeball to share between them, which they plucked out and passed between themselves in order to see. It was skilful puppetry and brilliant to watch.
The human performers were clearly working hard, but there were a few clumsy moments and missed notes. It’s a small space for five performers and 20 puppets, and the actors/puppeteers did a sterling job of adapting to it, but things didn’t run as smoothly as they could. Although this was couched as ‘adult puppetry’ it didn’t feel like it. It was certainly suitable for children and lacked knowing winks. Charming, but perhaps a bit disappointing if you were expecting something a bit racier from the ancient Greeks.
Puppetry performances of all kinds continue throughout the week as part of the Suspense festival. Whether you’re a puppetry connoisseur or a puppet virgin it’s definitely worth checking this festival out. Find out more at www.suspensefestival.com
A review originally written for the Londonist.
Organised by the self styled ‘think and do tank’, the New Economics Foundation, the Festival of Interdependence was a popular choice for a free day out this weekend. By midday, a long queue to get into the Bargehouse was developing and organisers were forced to start operating a ‘one in, one out’ policy of no return. The crowds and not being able to leave and come back were our only complaints about this event.
We got there early to sign up for a bread making class and to take part in an urban agriculture workshop, which was fascinating when the architects leading the discussion could make themselves heard over the loud background noise. This green fingered Londonista especially enjoyed the section when we broke out into small groups to discuss the value of the urban growing spaces we knew.
Wandering around the Bargehouse before the bread making began, there was much to see and do. The festival spread out over several floors and 
each room had its own character. In one room we stumbled upon a climate change poet and indulged in free coffee, in another we witnessed mad looking gadgets from the ‘Human Powered Home’ and on the top floor we walked into an indoor recreation of the Climate Camp.
The bread making workshop was great. Run by Paul Barker from the Cinnamon Square Bakery in Hertfordshire, and organised by the Real Bread Campaign, it was a flour fuelled hour of fun. We learned an awful lot about the humble loaf as well as getting to make one of our own. Ingredients and kneading techniques were covered, and Paul revealed that baking bread is an obsession and an art. The Londonist’s energetic hand work saw our dough fly through the air and onto the floor, but happily at a moment when our teacher’s back was turned and he never knew.
By the time the bread making was done, the Bargehouse was feeling really busy and we decided to go off in search of a quiet, late lunch. As we left a speaker was just getting started outside, taking advantage of the queue / captive audience. It looked like the Festival of Interdependence was going to buzz for the rest of the afternoon.
An interview/preview I did for the Londonist this week
It’s been over 25 years since the last festival and the suspense has been killing puppetry fans. But at last ten days of puppet magic is to unfurl across London as Suspense, a festival of adult puppetry, opens at the end of the month. Including an eclectic range of performances, masterclasses and symposia, organisers promise to “explode the myths that currently surround puppetry in this country” and prove that “puppets aren’t just for kids”.
Suspense stars puppet artistes from the UK and beyond, and adventures will range from the bizarre to the mysterious, with performances from a host of marionettes, shadow puppets and found objects, as well as animation, film, dance and song. The festival runs across 7 select venues including tiny treasures like the Little Angel Theatre and the floating Puppet Barge.
We chatted to Peter Glanville, Artistic Director of the Little Angel Theatre and one of the brains behind Suspense, to find out more.
Peter, it’s been over 25 years since the last London Puppetry Festival… why so long and why now?
Puppetry has historically been very poorly funded in the UK, and so puppetry companies and organisations like Little Angel have not had the resources to create a major event of this scale. Over the last five years high profile productions like War Horse, Madame Butterfly, Avenue Q, The Lion King and Venus and Adonis have helped to generate new audiences and a growing appreciation for the art-form.
At the same time, Little Angel has developed evening audiences for adult work such as our “Puppet Grinder Cabarets”. This, in turn, has influenced more theatre artists / companies to engage with the art-form, and is reflected in the wide range of work programmed for Suspense.
You say puppetry is going through a renaissance at the moment, but why do you think that is? What is it that’s appealing about it right now?
Theatre makers are looking at new ways of creating work and have re-discovered and re-examined the potential of puppetry in telling stories through image, symbol and metaphor. A growth in influences from other cultures has also had an impact. Julie Taymors work was influenced by her time in Indonesia, Greg Doran was inspired by Bun-raku Puppetry in Japan, and numerous artists have been inspired by Tadeusz Kantor’s work in Poland with objects and puppets.
What distinguishes adult puppetry from kids’ puppetry?
As with all forms of live performance, it’s the content which defines the work as being suitable for kids or adults. For example, there are graphic images from war in “The Brain” which are not suitable for children.
What kinds of people watch adult puppetry?
All kinds!! I’m sure the festival will have a core audience who are interested in puppetry and visual forms of theatre, but I think more people will be attracted by the subject matters – from Shakespeare to Einstein to Schoenberg – rather than just the art form.
How would you describe the London puppetry scene? In fact, is there a London puppetry scene??
The Little Angel calls itself the home of British Puppetry – since 1961. We’ve been a major centre for people who want to learn more about the art-form as makers or puppeteers. We have weekly classes for children, teenagers and adults, as well as ongoing professional development courses and educational projects up and down the country. We’re also a producing and receiving house and tour work nationally and internationally.
Most puppeteers/puppet-makers have had a connection with Little Angel at some point in their careers. Having said that, there are many other incredible places where people can also learn or perform puppetry, especially Norwich Puppet Theatre and the Scottish Mask and Puppet Centre in Glasgow.
In terms of ’scenes’, puppetry is definitely not London-centric. There are an abundance of companies scattered all over the country. This is reflected by Puppet Festivals in places such as Bristol, Edinburgh, Skipton, Bath and Buxton. Most of the companies programmed in Suspense are not London-based.
What about you – how long have you being doing puppetry?
I became interested in non-text based / visual forms of theatre making when I first saw work by companies like Phillipe Genty and Complicite. I ran a company called Kazzum for many years and through this time began to study mask, Lecoq-based clowning and puppetry.
My interest in puppetry continued to grow and a four month sabbatical in 2000 allowed me to travel across South-East Asia studying the art-form in more detail. I returned to direct a production of “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” in a tank of water inspired by Vietnamese Water Puppetry. My first job with the Little Angel was as a Stage Manager when I was a student. I never thought then that 25 years later I would have the privilege of being Artistic Director.
Finally, what should we watch at Suspense?
I’d advise everyone to catch “Rust” by Green Ginger at The Pleasance – their work is a lot of fun and this is a London premiere of a piece that has been all over the world. I’m also looking forward to hosting international companies at Little Angel – Compagnie Papiertheatre (France), TAMTAM Objektentheater (Holland) and Inkfish (US)
The Suspense London Puppetry Festival runs from Friday 30th October until Sunday 8th November. www.suspensefestival.com
