Ahhh lovely. What a lovely evening. Marylebone Theatre, this dark and humid Sunday night. Rain in the air, and heat. We all came in and looked at one another. Some of us had never met until an hour before the show. Some of us were old friends, proven colleagues, running mates. All of us had thrown in our lot with The Factory. A mischievous theatre company? An actor’s gym? A clique? An open and expanding friendship group of like minded geeky artists?
One of the places I feel at home and welcome.
Sunday night has usually been the night we play. So we played. Julius Caesar this evening. A new project and one that will likely pop up from time to time and bring that strange mixture of rigour and freedom that form our happy heart. There were people there I haven’t seen for ages and have been deeply important in the past. There were friends old and new, actors and creatives bound together by the will to make something LIVE. With the rise of AI it is getting more and more crucial to look towards the things that are made in the moment with humans. With 26 audience alongside us, we became a little live group and told this ancient tale of ambition and thwarted passion together. “There’s nothing like this,” one lovely old fellow said at the end. I was only covering small parts tonight so I know what he meant. I had enough space in my head to see the moments of immediacy bubble up and pop. I welcomed those simple flashes of play. Sometimes the joy was testament to the deep relationships some of us have built from years running alongside each other in the weird struggle I’ve been documenting the last few years. Other times the joy was in the moment, impossible things to imitate, one time flashes. Madness and inspiration. Truth and fun.
I’m not sure what I brought. I was trying to make big offers. I asked an audience member “What’s wrong with Caius Ligarius” as he has an injury. “He can’t straighten his arms,” she told me. I tried to make him arthritic. My Soothsayer was clearly just on a cocktail of narcotics. Cicero lived in a broom cupboard and wouldn’t leave. Antony’s servant enjoyed lying on his back. I incorporated him into Soldier 1, as it’s a logical throughline, so Soldier 1 also found an excuse to lie back. And Pleb 4 … well he’s a brute. “Tear him for his bad verses!”
I need to properly finish learning Antony. I am not show ready yet but need to be as this is another focused and curious live happening and it certainly feeds to my tastes and maybe that’s enough. I’ve had months to lead up to it but you know how crazy my life has been lately, and I’m aware that it’s in good hands so long as Nell or Leila are free. But for fairness and balance it’s useful to have all the parts well covered.
A happy show. Back to Brighton tomorrow and kittycat. But I’m glad I made it possible to come and play as it has helped me remember what a glory The Factory can be…
AlBarclay 