'Wasted' by PintSized Productions

I am sitting in the American bar right beside the stage. An audience sits drinking their Sunday afternoon pints about to watch ‘Wasted’. Two actors are in front of me. Two chairs. Two spotlights. The music begins. Immediately we are thrown into a nightclub scene. The two actors are drinking, taking selfies, dancing. As the title suggests, they are wasted.

It is fast, vibrant, energetic. We move through scenes with great speed – the bar, the taxi, the club. We even move from character to character quickly – one minute we are watching two female best friends, next the actors switch to two male friends. Thrown into the mix, the characters change to a mother, a bouncer, a Policeman. All the actors have are two chairs and two spotlights. But with fascinating direction and choreography, one hour of two actors and two chairs becomes so much more.

We have Emma and Kate, best mates on a night out. They bump into Oli and Charlie, and the four progress from a few drinks in the bar, to drinking games, to a taxi, to a club. There’s a scene where Emma falls and is picked up by Oli. Oli examines her bloody foot, only to find that the blood is actually spilled Strawberry Daiquiri. Shannon Wilkinson (Emma) portrays a highly realistic drunken girl – even her facial gestures are down to a tee. Then she manages to switch to the laddish Charlie, which she pulls off effortlessly by the way she cranes her neck and she way she swaggers.

Thomas Martin on the other hand, who originally plays Oli, immediately switches to best friend Kate, and we need no explanation. He can act girlish, feminine and like a sympathetic girlie best friend. Then straight away he can switch straight back into his male character who is being grilled by his mother on what he got up to the night before.

How Nuala Donnelly pulled together this feat of choreography and direction is beyond me.  It is fast, tight, and non-stop. This play does not stand still. And yet for some reason, you never lose grip of who is playing who and what scene we are on. The actors pull it off perfectly.

The scenes jump back and forward as we start to learn the events of that wasted night. Emma lost her phone, her wallet, her keys and her friend Kate. Oli is there is pick up the pieces. To literally carry her home over his shoulder.

But then the following morning comes, and along with it, the hangover. Emma’s dread as she awakens and feels rough. But worse than that, did something happen last night? Was there sex? Does she even remember anything?

And this is where the main tension of the story lies. Did Emma and Oli have sex? Emma was too drunk to remember. Did she even consent to it? eg. Was it rape?

Therein lies a storyline which in some ways should feel like a talk to young people, and yet it doesn’t come across like that. Interwoven within the dramatic storyline are lessons to be learned. What would happen if Emma reported Oli? What would the Police say? How would the interviews take place? What are the consequences for this alcohol fuelled evening?

This play has everything – powerful, emotional scenes – when Emma is crying to her friend and can’t remember anything. Comedy and light-heartedness – the early evening, the selfies, the hanging off the bar ordering drinks. Information and education – all young people should watch this play and come away with lessons learned. And physical theatre – how can only two chairs tell so many scenes? It’s because of the way the two actors bounce off each other, move, twist, exchange roles and genders. It is clever, it has perfect timing and it is entertaining.

What was also interesting about the writing of this play (written by Kat Woods) was that my sympathies for the two main characters switched back and forth. I never really knew what was going to happen or what the outcome would be for Oli.

The final scene left me with tears in my eyes. A hugely powerful hard-hitting yet entertaining play. This is one I will not forget.   

~ 'Wasted' by Pintsized Productions was performed in the American Bar, Belfast on Sunday 24 February 2019.

Rambert 2: Mixed Bill - dance review

What happens when you want to review a dance piece but you feel majorly unqualified to review it? The review below happens.

I remember studying Rambert Dance Company as part of my University degree which was more years ago than I care to admit (alright then, 24 years ago).

So when I saw that Rambert 2 was performing at the MAC, I begged a friend to go with me, knowing in advance that I’d love it. Thankfully she loves contemporary dance as much as me, so we drove to the MAC with high expectations.

We were informed that the show was split into 3 parts – the first part, followed by a short 5 minute break; the second part, an interval, and the third part finale.

First part opens. What I immediately observe is the youth of these dancers. Rambert 2 is a new group of the world’s best dancers. I learned that 800 auditions were whittled down to the 13 we have on the stage in front of us. And 13 hugely young people they are. These kids must have been dancing from the minute they left the womb, devoting every evening and weekend to dance. Every movement is perfect, every contortion of their body is athletic; these are young people who are hugely gifted in their field; it is a joy to watch.

Coupled to this is the amazing music which is loud, dynamic, vibrant and youthful. I almost feel like I’m down at the local Thompsons watching kids who are so in tune with the music, I would almost blame it on chemicals.

And then there is one girl who stands out even more than the others. A spotlight of white light shines down on her. I’m wondering if it’s to represent her death and ascendance to heaven in the storyline. Next she dances in the middle of a group of the others. The group have the same repetitive movements but she dances and weaves inside and through them with all the skill and rebellion of a unique loner.

As if the first part wasn’t so flipping amazing enough, it just gets better with every stage of the production. By the third part, we are watching insanely talented dancers who are on their actual tippy-toes for what seems like ages – doing what seems like some sort of tribal dance. I am beyond wondering what story the dance represents. Now I am simply mesmerised by these hugely talented humans. How can the human body do so much? How do these athletic vessels live their lives? They must be training morning, noon and night. They must live and breathe dance.

When watching this production, it suddenly doesn’t matter if I’m not qualified enough to review it. It doesn’t matter if I’m not interpreting the story in the way the choreographers planned. All that matters is that the combination of the pulsating music and the movements of these talented human bodies is so completely mesmerising that I could sit and watch them for hours. It doesn’t matter what thoughts run through my head, or how therapeutic I find this to watch. I’m sure that every single person in that audience had different thoughts running through their head; their own interpretation and their own enjoyment. All I know is that it bloody worked! All I know was that it was amazing!  

Rambert 2: Mixed Bill - played at The MAC, Belfast on 22-23 February

Check out a trailer for Mixed Bill here

Who's Looking at you? ~ by Colm G Doran

Having thoroughly enjoyed several productions directed by Colm and one dance piece which he wrote the background script for, I was keen to go and see his latest piece of writing.

“Who’s Looking at You?” was performed in the Crush Bar at The MAC, Belfast.

The same trademark headphones from previous shows “Three Stories”, “Date Show” and “Date Show: After Dark” are being used, but this time, just one colour of headphone, meaning that the audience would all be listening to the same script throughout the production, rather than several stories going on at once.

We are seated in the bar, headphones on, awaiting the entrance from the actor(s).  A bar maid strolls by, pushing a bar trolley in front of her. I wonder if she is part of the performance. (She isn’t!) Then a woman appears, glammed up in her little black dress and red lipstick. Through my headphones, I can hear her thoughts. Here is our actress.

She sits at a bar table. A bottle of wine is resting in a wine cooler. Two empty glasses await the appearance of her and her date. We hear a beeping noise. She checks her phone. In her head she’s reading out his text. About the date, he can’t make it. His child is sick and vomiting, he will have to take a rain check.

Disappointed, she looks around her uncomfortably. She had already poured herself a glass of wine and now she is drinking alone.

Punters attending the MAC – possibly to see the ‘Oliver!’ in the main auditorium, or to dander around the art gallery, can’t help but look over at the woman drinking alone in the Crush bar. Albeit, they are probably noticing the string of blue headphone-wearing people watching her, but their curiosity adds to the authenticity. She is self-conscious, she is drinking alone. Who is looking at her?

I begin to realise that this performance will take the form of listening to our actor’s inner-most thoughts. Having not been out of the house for weeks, she decides to drink on. One glass, two glasses, three glasses, four. Within the space of her drinking, we listen to her reminiscing about the past, remembering childhood memories, recalling the moment she met her husband.

My attention starts to move around the bar – noticing the people coming and going, noticing the other people who are watching this piece also, wondering if the wine inside the glass is real or watered down Ribena. I begin to think how hard it must be to act this piece – when she can’t get up and stride around – when all she has to work with is facial movements.

And then something happens. Then the memories suddenly go to the death of the husband – only 8 weeks prior. And furthermore, we hear of what the husband was really like – abusive; one punch after the other. We are thrown into a memory where she is lying on the carpet trying to count the patterns on the carpet just to distract herself from the thump-thump-thump.

Tears spring to my eyes. That is the strength of this writing. That amidst the distraction of punters passing to and fro, despite the fact the actress can only work with facial movements, the writing is so powerful that it catapults us into another place which can stir so much emotion.

And somehow, somehow there happens to be comedy in the midst of this. The friend on the phone whose complaining about ‘the b*tch in the Jeep behind her, up her backside’ and the text from the vomit guy promising to stand downwind so she won’t experience the bad smell. And there are heart-warming moments too – the smile on her face when she realises the new guy is outside waiting for her; the possibility of new beginnings and moving on and potential happiness.

Bravo to Colm Doran on another fabulous production. I look forward to seeing more writing from this author! 

Who’s Looking At You? ~ Written by Colm G Doran

Performed on Sat 19 January 2019 – 3.30pm in the Crush Bar, The MAC

Presented by Prime Cut Productions as part of the ‘Revealed’ series

"Three Stories" by Three's Theatre Company - The MAC, Belfast

Three’s Theatre Company has returned with yet another cracker of a show. They are quickly establishing themselves as producers of reliably innovative, experimental and entertaining theatre.

“Three Stories” has some similarities to their previous shows I have watched Date Show and Date Show: After Dark.

The silent headphones have returned – the different colour of headphones – red, blue or green, indicating which story the audience member will listen to. This has become the trademark distinction of Three’s Theatre Company. That with each production you attend, there will be three different stories going on at once, so no one audience member will have the same experience.

But as with the previous productions, where audience members were walking around on a site specific tour (The Bullitt/ The MAC), with “Three Stories” we were all in the same room in the MAC watching the same dance piece.

One large triangle in the middle of the floor indicated the dancers’ space. On one edge, was the blue-headphone wearing audience, the other – the red, and the other – the green. Meaning that each of the three colours was watching the performance from a different angle.

The dancers had choreographed this show in just 3 days. Their dancing was mesmerising. Strong, beautiful, energetic, fast, slow, beautiful, sad, happy. It was full of energy, emotion and vivacity.

3 writers were asked to watch this performance and put their own words to the dance. I was fortunate to listen to “Connections” by Colm Doran. There was something very intimate about sitting in this space, cross-legged on a cushion on the floor, in a totally black space save for one spotlight, watching these beautiful dancers and hearing the words of Colm Doran’s writing in my headphones.

I marvelled at how he interpreted the dance, how he was able to conjure up stories immediately. How he could see the young children playing, or the lovers parting, or the sadness and loneliness. He spoke of the young child learning to walk, then moved through the stages of growing older, trying to become successful in the world. He talked of trying too hard and having too much ambition. He talked of remembering times of being lost and never wanting to forget it. All these beautiful observations he made and more.

This performance felt like a soothing balm. It was peaceful, comforting, fascinating and mesmerising.

Yet again another wonderful performance from Three’s Theatre Company. I look forward to their next production! 

Having a GYST day (Getting Your Sh*t together)

After the manic week that was: 20,000 words – aka one quarter of a novel, I had to make a few changes. I was knackered – not physically, but mentally. And because I went straight back to work on the Monday, there was no time to surf the sofa and draw breath.

Added to this fact, work was also full-on. There is no-one to cover me when I’m off, so all that happens when I return from a week of annual leave, is that I have a week of work to catch up on. I was exhausted.

I usually set aside Saturday and Sundays for writing but I knew for a fact I couldn’t go straight into writing on Saturday. My mind was still reeling from the previous two hectic weeks.

That’s when I decided a GYST day was in order. That’s short for GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.

It’s a day when you tidy up all the loose ends that are leftover. All the small jobs that you have neglected for weeks because you’ve been so busy. All the little tasks that jump into your head and nag at you to do and you’ve had to keep putting them off. 

I’m talking about things like:

- Order some groceries in

- Take a stock of your money situation

- Hoover

- Chuck out those clothes to the charity shop

- Order a new set of headphones to replace the dodgy ones

- Get on top of the laundry

All boring jobs but jobs which, when completed, will clear your head.

How on earth can you sit down to write when your mind is swirling with all the odd-jobs that need done? How can you concentrate on the characters and listen to what they’re up to when your head is full and chaotic?

So, Saturday was allocated as a GYST day. This meant I didn’t have the GUILTS about not sitting down to write. But I did use the day productively.

When I had the place cleaned, food ordered in, things prepared for the week ahead, I was able to soak in the tub and then relax in a nice clean home.

It meant that today, when I sat down to look at my writing, my head felt calm and free from any distractions. I was able to spend some time on plotting, looking back at the 20,000 words I’d just written and projecting ahead as to where I can go from here.

In her book “The Artists Way ~ a course in discovering and recovering your creative self” Julia Cameron refers to this GYST idea as an unblocking tool (although she does not use the exact acronym – but the idea behind it is the same). 

She gives the following unblocking tasks to do: 

- Clearing: Throw out or give away 5 ratty pieces of clothing

- Any new changes in your home environment? Make some.

- Mend any mending.

- Repot any pinched and languishing plants.

- Create one wonderful smell in your house – with soup, incense, candles, whatever.

I like to think that the GYST day reminds me of the phrase ~ “Out with the old and in with the new”.

ie. Once you have a good clear-out day (GYST day), you are ready to listen for new ideas coming in to your writing and onto the page.

What I learned from my 20,000 word challenge

Last week I set myself a challenge of writing 20,000 words in one week. That’s roughly a quarter of a novel. Here are some of the ups and downs of that journey, plus any notes I have learned from doing it.

Why I set myself the challenge

I had already started to write my fourth book and had about 10,000 words down so far. I had spent a lot of time on plot and had separated my novel into four parts. I happened to have a lot of annual leave to take, so I decided to book a week off.

I figured that if I could write 2,500 each morning and then relax for the rest of the day, then it would be a mix of using my time productively and getting a bit of chill out time too.

The challenges I faced

Full of energy and bravado on the second day, I decided to post a photo of my whiteboard and show Facebook and Instagram how I was getting on with my challenge.

This was kind of a mistake.

Once I had put the challenge ‘out there’ in the land of social media, it made me somehow accountable.

Of course I knew that no-one would follow me up on it and ask, ‘oye! Wrote those words yet?’ But I would know.

On the other hand, the whiteboard thing was a good idea. I couldn’t believe the amount of support and lovely comments I was getting each day (to the same bloody picture of the same board with white laminate on it). And it did help to spur me on in the end.

A manic phase

Initially, I felt quite manic. I felt like I had loads of energy and this 2,500 word thing was a doddle. I told myself that come on Rose, I’m sure there’s a hoard of full-time authors out there, writing 2,500 words every day easy-peasy. I had dreams of one day joining the full-time author elite, living in my ivory tower, scribbling out pages and pages of words that tumble down like Rapunzel’s hair. I mean, I know that full-time authors obviously work their socks off, but allow me a fantasy here!

Then things got busy

Not only was I was writing 2,500 words each morning (which takes a couple of hours) but then I was spending the afternoon plotting. I’d be making notes for tomorrow morning’s chapter so that it wouldn’t be such a shock when I hit the blank page at 9am.

After the plotting, I’d catch up on social media and then in the evening, there would be something of a social nature – dinner with a friend, going to see a dance production, going to the cinema.

I began to see how a full-time author could fill their time in rightly and I still love the thought of it. Aside from the worry of ‘when’s the next pay cheque coming in?’ I could quite easily settle into a routine.

Nanowrimo

Through my social media time, I also realised I had timed my 20,000 word challenge nicely with Nanowrimo. All over Twitter, a ton of writers were working on the 50,000 word challenge for the month of November. It felt like a lovely comforting vibe that we were all in this together. (Except of course now, I have bowed out and they are all still writing).  

 

Hitting a slump

Towards the end of my week, when I was around the 15,000 word stage, I hit a bit of slump. I started to think about having to go back to work on Monday. I started to feel like I needed a real, proper, rest. One where I could just lie on the sofa all day and watch unnecessary crap on YouTube and order a massive Dominoes pizza.

But there was the whiteboard. The damn whiteboard staring back at me, whispering that there was just another 2,500 in the morning, and another 2,500 the morning after that, and then I’d be done. I told myself that after this I would take a break for a while. That I’d step away from the manuscript for a good week or so and then come back to it with fresh eyes.

Pressing on

So hey ho! I pressed on, and by jiminy, I did it! I shared my news on Facebook and everyone was delighted for me. I took a lovely stroll around the park and enjoyed the fresh autumnal day. And later I sent all the chapters for my sister, who likes to read them for me and make any proof-reading notes that jump out at her.

Even though I was really pleased at myself for completing the challenge, even though I was glad to get all those words down in one go, would I do it again?

I’m not sure.

Yes, there is a positive in gaining momentum. I did get really into the story and I did feel like I got to know my characters really well.

I am pleased with where this story is going and I am excited about writing in a different genre of psychological thriller instead of chick-lit.

BUT I don’t think it helped my mental health a lot. I would be quite prone to depression and looking back, I’m not sure it was such a good idea to pile so much pressure on myself. I knew at the time that I felt too manic, and I knew that eventually, what goes up, has to come down. I almost buckled myself in, waiting for the downer.

And it came.

After the initial euphoria of reaching my goal, then came the mild irritation. The queue at the shop that was too long. The way that only one staff member was dealing with about 12 of us.

And then the return to work. When you take a week of holiday, all that happens is that when you return, you have one whole week’s worth of work to catch up on. And of course, because of my challenge, my batteries were already low. I had no extra energy to draw upon.

This week I could feel myself getting down, tired and irritable. All signs that my body is scolding me for not looking after my mental health.

Maybe next time I would set myself smaller goals.

And maybe one day I’ll actually get to write full time.

Because is my fantasy still there, of the Ivory Tower and the words tumbling down each day? Hell, yeah!

Beware the Negative Nancy's!

   

Just the other day, someone asked me “How’s the writing going?”

Me, thinking that he was genuinely interested, proceeded to tell him how I was getting on with book #4 and what my plans were to publish it when complete.

The ‘someone’ (let’s call him ‘Negative Nancy’ from here on) then proceeded to swamp me in a load of negative ‘advice’. He said how unrealistic my plans were, how difficult it is to achieve what I wanted to achieve and how that it was highly unlikely that I would reach my goal.

Flummoxed, I was too shocked to respond to his negativity.

I began to wonder why exactly he had asked me how the writing was going.

Was he genuinely interested in what my plans were?

Why was he picking up the first opportunity to try to swamp my dreams with his negativity?

Why ask?

I have yet to understand what the reasoning is behind this.

Maybe people feel the need to protect you from potential disappointment.

Maybe people feel the need to warn you in case you get your hopes too high.

Maybe some people have just no idea about visualisation.

If you are going to spend the time to sit down and write a novel of approx. 80,000 words in length, you NEED to believe that it is going to succeed.

You HAVE to believe that it is going to be the best book you’ve ever written, that it will get the publisher that it deserves and that it will sell well.

YOU HAVE TO DREAM BIG otherwise you won’t have the mental capacity to sit down and write the damn thing.

STAY AWAY FROM NEGATIVE NANCY’S.

Negative Nancy’s do not have the mental capacity to dream big.

They are constantly living in fear, looking over their shoulder, wondering when it will all go wrong.

And Negative Nancy’s want to drag you down in the ditch with them.

RISE ABOVE THEM. Ignore the negativity and DREAM BIG.

You NEED to dream big to give you the mental capacity to put the work in!