My little cottage is like an oven. It smells of laundry. There are sheets and clothes hanging everywhere. Before the matinee tomorrow I’ll need to fold and hang what I can. But I’ll likely also need at least a month in the loo as I’ve just had a late night curry from Thespians that was hotter than Wolf Rayet WR-102. I won’t regret it. Everything is an experience.
Joey was in unexpectedly and I wanted to be in his energetic space a moment to remember. He momentarily lived in Chelsea at mine and specialises in being mercurial. He makes music with Maddy – The Amazing Devil. Listen to them as albums when you have time. Trust me on that. I was curious to discover what time has done to him and was pleased to see his light is burning brightly still, and more positive than last time I saw him. I think he knows the darkness too, as we all must. He loved the show. How can you not unless you’re one of these fumbling old perverts they sent to write about it? I went for a single Guinness in the duck to find him before I fucked off home to burn my entire face off in the fiery storm of chicken naga that is now fully consumed, mopped up with nan, drawing its plans against me.
I love this little bubble, and I love Tim for trusting me into it. It’s happy here and we care about each other and the show. We are lightly making magic for each other, with each other and for the people who come. So many school groups. And really vocal audiences that get it and get behind us in it. I insult the reviewers because frankly the old duffers deserve it, they’re the only dark spot on a bright bright thing, and actually many have been very positive. I just wish the quickest ones hadn’t been neutral. Small thing to worry about in the face of what we are weaving.
It’s a hard play, and a sad play. It deals with really dark and thorny things that are so relevant now. Racism, misogyny, violence, misinformation. We do the words and honour the writer. We don’t show off about how clever we are, we just let the text speak instead. The craft of it is in stillness and clarity instead of tricks and choreography. A play like this lands best if we don’t block it. Dead people stand up, spoiler alert, but that’s no more of an unattural choice than someone trying to lie completely still but they’re still breathing and you know it. Corpses in a room are much much bigger and weirder than an actor trying not to blink or shuffle.
Rhys was momentarily up in town, on our stage with the Twelfth Night cast which will be in next, just, as a company, learning how important good voice work is within this space. He knows it of course, he’s been up a few times. But it’s useful to bring it to everyone. You have to be clear without pushing. It’s a balance as there are people right in front of you and others miles away above and behind you. It’s powerful to get used to it in rehearsal before you get into tech. I saw him briefly after a lovely snatched walk down the river to feed the swans with Georgina.
AlBarclay 