After the weekend of bright sunshine, we were deserving of some wind. Two nights off and then the tour continues, and we find ourselves on the lawn of Kenaway House, Sidmouth.

This is another new venue to the Countess Wear Community Theatre and one that wasn’t ready for Shakespeare if audiences numbers are anything to go by. With fifteen in the cast and not quite twelve in the audience, sometimes you wonder if it’s worth it.

I was momentarily reminded of a performance of ‘Speaking in Tongues’ that was taken to the Brixham Theatre by the Shiphay Amateur Dramatic Society last year. There four of us performed to a very small audience, and there again I was forced to consider why we do it.

In the world of the amateur stage it isn’t for the money, so it can only be for the performance. Through the course of this run more than any, I’ve realised that I like the rehearsal process, I like the camaraderie, but I’m not really bothered about the performance. I enjoy working through the material, but whether somebody’s paying £5 or £15 to see the finished product doesn’t really matter to me anymore.

After a few years as a publicity officer and a chairman of a local group, it was all about bums on seats and making sure costs are covered, my role at that time depended on it. Now I alternate between performer and consumer, these are other people’s worries, which has left me trying to get the most from the experience that I can.

Which is where leaving the contact lenses at home was a bad idea. Oh, I know, I’ve blogged about leaving lenses at home before. But this time it was too late for me to go home and get them. For this show I had to play it blind, like I did in the old days. It was performance full of nostalgia.

I could raise an eyebrow at co-stars in the knowledge that their reactions wouldn’t make me laugh. I could look at the audience and not see anyone (alright, that was partly because there was nobody out there, but you get my point). I could enjoy the delights of hiding a pair of glasses somewhere on my pocketless costume to aid quick sight restoration the moment I came off stage.

I also had to learn a few more lines. You see, I’ve taken having contact lenses very seriously. I’ve indulged in that habit I’ve seen others enjoy through the years. You know the one, when you have to read something from a piece of paper, so you can actually have those lines written on a piece of paper?

The was a ‘Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde’ a couple of years ago where I was dischuffed to have to learn a letter because to read it was to have to hold it a couple of centimetres from my nose. Everyone else cheerfully read their letters, but not me, I had to learn mine.

Nowadays, I’ve slacked off the line learning. If it can be read from a scroll, it can go on the scroll. Clearly this isn’t only my view, as the props department kindly provided a scroll that contained, not just the titles of the plays on offer for Theseus to choose from, but also the lines that go in between them. So you see, the production team actively encourage you not to learn the lines. That’s my excuse. Well, one of my excuses.

Of course, the speech was delivered without a problem. What surprised me was the reactions of my co-stars, who seemed to think the performance was more regal, less flustered and a lot calmer for my not being able to see. Quite frankly, they only just fell short of saying, “You’re better at this when you can’t see what you’re doing.”

So, less than a dozen people saw what the cast thought was my best performance of the run. A performance that I couldn’t see myself. Pfff.

For more information, visit: www.cwct.biz

Last post in the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ series: The Proper Road Trip

Last review of the Countess Wear Community Theatre: Jack and the Beanstalk

If you’ve been to see one of our performances or would like to share any stories about small audiences or not being able to see what you’re doing on stage, do feel free to share your comments below.

As the Countess Wear Community Theatre tour continues, what better way to spend an afternoon than to get out of Devon and venture to the ground of the quite remarkable Harptree Court.

By far the most appealing part of working with the CWCT is the readiness to take Shakespeare from community centres to country houses knowing that the plays are there to be appreciated by everyone.

But, no amount of beautiful garden or glorious sunshine can resolve the one big problem with going on tour – the journey there and back…

In the scheme of things, there aren’t many people who have had to travel by minibus with me. Certainly, there were plenty of journeys in my teens where minibuses were the preferred means of travel for a scout camp. But for a play?

With plays, I have spoken before of the importance of that pre-performance routine, ensuring you have everything, calming heading to the theatre, quietly going over lines or sticky scenes from the previous show. But life with a tour bus just doesn’t work that way.

Show me a bus and I’ll enforce a singalong. Whether it be, “The Wheels on the Bus” or songs from the musicals, there’s no point in being on a bus if you can’t eat, sing, read road signs out loud and ask the driver if we’re nearly there yet. Suddenly, I’d lost all capacity to behave like a grown up, and started getting many a withering look from the teenagers, who were trying to sleep or listen to whichever ‘i’ device was nearest.

At this point I have a dawning realisation of just how annoying I am to travel with. I know I can be bad enough when I’m driving (who doesn’t join in the ‘vroom vroom’ noises and make the sounds that cars shouldn’t make when they’re driving?), but without having to concentrate on any safety in a minibus, even I don’t like me.

So whilst I should be writing of the performance where a low flying aircraft made me laugh on stage as I couldn’t make myself heard or a performance where I got the chance to deliver the line “Pyramus draws near the wall, SILENCE!” at a nearby barking dog to reasonable comic effect, instead I find myself writing an apology to those who endured the journey there and back.

That’s not to say the journey is all bad. You haven’t lived until you’ve played the Alphabet Game with Shakespeare Characters…

“J? Was there a John?”

“There was a King John.”

“That begins with a K.”

Head hangs in despair.

For more information, visit: www.cwct.biz

Last post in the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ series: The Night At The Water’s Edge

Next post in the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ series: The Quiet Night Out

Last review of the Countess Wear Community Theatre: Jack and the Beanstalk

If you’ve been to see one of our performances or would like to share any stories about journeys to and from performances or jolly word games to pass the time on long journeys, do feel free to share your comments below.

The third leg of the tour took us to Jubilee Park in Kingswear. This is by far our most mysterious venue, as to Google “Jubilee Park Kingswear” takes you to some old Parish Council minutes and the website of the Countess Wear Community Theatre. Neither of these are particularly helpful to give a young boy directions to the stage door.

Having said that, it is the way with mysterious locations that they turn out to be the most incredible beauty spots and an ideal place for bringing Shakespeare into the heart of another community.

What I enjoy most about these open air performances is watching people draw near as we get closer to the start. At Sylvan Heights the question was whether people would come out of the houses to come and see what was going on, but Shakespeare in the Park has become a regular feature of the tour and the audience kindly returns year after year to see what production the group will bring next.

Performing around a public footpath takes the idea of 'open stages' to a new level.

The most entertaining feature of performing in Kingswear is that our stage is set up with a public footpath running straight up the middle of the performance space. I can’t help but be disappointed that no dogwalkers or joggers came wandering up the path as our fairies were in full flow, as I’m not sure unsuspecting passers by would know what to make of Bottom and his asses head canoodling with Titania.

On the subject of canines on stage, it makes sense to pay tribute to our two star performers who have been alternating between locations as to who gets the starring role as Moonshine’s dog during the Pyramus and Thisbe scene. Boo and Molly wait patiently backstage for far longer than the rest of us. Quite frankly, I think it’s good of them to get there in time to set up, as the poor dears don’t come on for their moment of glory until long after the interval (I know I’d use that as an excuse to turn up late if given the chance). The litter sisters take it in turns to ably upstage Peter Ingerslev as Moonshine, as the audience is cheerfully distracted by the dog – presumably, just as Shakespeare intended.

Molly understands the importance of a warm up at the 100 Club

Boo considers the merits of method acting in her dressing room at Sylvan Heights

Molly listens out for her cue line at Jubilee Park

As for more personal reflections on performance, tonight I bit the bullet and when I lost my way in a passage of text, took time to pause for the prompt rather than bluster my way through a lot of words that hold no coherence when uttered together. So, after saying the same line three times, “Our sport shall be to take what they mistake” I waited for guidance on where to go next.

The irony was not lost on me that I was in the middle of the speech where Theseus talks of the merits of rising above the mistakes bad actors to see what is intended rather than what’s actually before you. Once again, the shame, but many thanks to Pauline the prompt, without whom…

This afternoon the Countess Wear Community Theatre take A Midsummer Night’s Dream out of Devon to Harptree Court.

For more information, visit: www.cwct.biz

Last post in the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ series: The Night Among The New Builds

Next post in the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ series: The Proper Road Trip

Last review of the Countess Wear Community Theatre: Jack and the Beanstalk

If you’ve been to see one of our performances or would like to share any stories about working with animals or performing around public footpaths or rivers, do feel free to share your comments below.

The second stop on our tour was a thrilling trip to Sylvan Heights. Thanks to Google and some sign posts in and around Exeter, Theseus arrived with minutes to spare.

It’s interesting to see an audience tentatively make their way towards the band of costumed lunatics, performing on the patch of green at the edge of the estate. There’s something both amusing and exciting about taking the bard to new spaces. Does anyone ever expect to see an open air Shakespeare production turn up at the end of their road?

Still, this remains the magic of the Countess Wear Community Theatre, they aren’t afraid to travel. Sylvan Heights was the first of three new venues on this mini-tour, and once a polite gathering had arrived with blankets and a willingness to play along, we were off.

After the comfort of performing indoors the previous night, suddenly we’re in the world of projecting voices and walking around with cloaks blowing in the wind. How can a young man not pretend to be Superman when he has a full length robe taking off behind him?

Young couples arguing at the edge of the estate? Nothing new there then.

For our cast, the most challenging part of a new space is to find entrances and exits, to listen out for cue lines being blown in the wrong direction and to work out how to assemble so that groups of characters all arrive in the same place at the right time.

Nothing builds camaraderie quicker than having to gather fifteen people behind a bush in a circle of garden furniture. Some follow the script as it’s performed to keep track of the performance, some quietly go over their lines, some have alternate reading material, whilst others find it relaxing to hit each other with sticks. No doubt this is one of the joys of the wide mix in ages.

Whilst the neighbours can’t see much of the performance from their houses, there were certainly people having meals out on their balconies wondering what we were up to. In a sense, I suppose they were lucky that we did ‘Romeo and Juliet’ last year, else no doubt our Romeo would have been dashing across to rehearse his balcony scene on poor unsuspecting residents.

The one thing that I can be sure of for this production is we couldn’t have had a better start with the weather. There’s nothing quite like performing on a stage of real grass and trees in the evening sun. It’s easy for me to say that though, it’s wonderfully warm inside a red velvet robe. Quite what the scantily clad members of the cast are making of conditions outside I can’t say.

After the fun and games at the 100 Club tripping over lines, I am half afraid to turn this blog into a confessional of continued fluffs and gaffs. Particularly after the bad reputation I started to build for myself a couple of months ago on The Night I Forgot To Go On. That said, I had a far more comfortable second night, bellowing lines into the wind with far less dignity but a little more accuracy than I had during our opening performance. When you’re playing a Duke, dignity is probably quite important, so I’ll keep that in mind as the tour continues.

One of the joys performing outdoors brings is the chance for boys to make a mess, not just of dialogue, but of the costumes. Sam Emmerson and Harry Boyd, playing Lysander and Demetrius, are delighted to cover their lovely white stockings in grass stains during a thrilling fight sequence. Quite who has been assigned to grass stain removal duty in time for tonight’s performance I’m sure I’ll never know…

Tonight the Countess Wear Community Theatre present A Midsummer Night’s Dream with a public footpath straight up the middle of the performance space as we head to Jubilee Park in Kingswear.

For more information, visit: www.cwct.biz

Last post in the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ series: The Night I fff…ed It Up

Next post in the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ series: The Night At The Water’s Edge

Last review of the Countess Wear Community Theatre: Jack and the Beanstalk

If you’ve been to see one of our performances or would like to share any stories about messy costumes or performing in residential areas, do feel free to share your comments below.

If the world of amdram reviews has looked a little thin on the ground lately, I am afraid you can blame the excitement of another production.

This week and next the Jolly Lion joins the Countess Wear Community Theatre on tour with ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.

Spanning six venues across seven of nine days, this mini-tour takes community theatre to the edge of being the most bonkers venture I have ever been a part of.

I make no apology for falling in love with this group last summer, when I joined them for a tour of ‘Romeo and Juliet’. It was then that I first found myself in the venue that opened our tour last night, the 100 Club in Countess Wear. A community centre come youth club, this isn’t a venue that screams Shakespeare. This probably says more about my perception of where Shakespeare will be well received, as a warm audience attended the only indoor performance of the tour.

With a warm up on the edge of a playing field, the chaps changing in the art room and some friendly hosts making interval teas, we were ready to kick off.

The group have some wonderful stage hands who set up some freestanding flats and a tree to play against. A simple set does not distract from the larger than life performances that will come from the boundless enthusiasm of the group.

And so, two confessions on opening night. The first is one of being a bit star struck after realising that one of our cast was in both The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui and Patience.

The second is that I haven’t really devoted the time to learning lines here in the way that I normally would. Oh, the shame. Lose your way in a panto script and you can use an audience to help dig yourself out. With Shakespeare, the capacity to improvise in iambic pentameter hasn’t quite reached me yet.

I looked at Hermia with a “Fff… fff… fff… fff…” utterly convinced that the line started with an ‘f’. The line is “Therefore, fair Hermia,” which certainly has a couple of ‘f’ sounds there, but also doesn’t begin with an ‘f’. Poor Zoe Callon, as Hermia, was staring at me with a look that says, whatever you do decide to say, don’t swear. It would seem that in performance I develop at least that much self-control.

As we ploughed through the scene, I find my internal monologue questioning the merits of delivering the rest of Theseus that night with a stammer, as if all the ‘fff…ing’ was a part of his character. Hmmm… best not.

Still, later the same night I enjoyed delivering just a few words from certain lines, including such delights as exclaiming simply, “Strange Snow!” as opposed to the full, “That is hot ice and wondrous strange snow.”

And worse still, “And since the morn is worn!” as opposed to “And, for the morning now is something worn…” (get your iambic out, duh-duh duh-duh duh-duh duh-duh duh-duh…)

Still, at least I’ve spent time today perfecting the lines for tonight’s performance rather than blogging about my fluffs from last night. Oh. Hurrah to be back on the road!

Tonight the Countess Wear Community Theatre present A Midsummer Night’s Dream on a patch of grass, somewhere along Barley Lane, Sylvan Heights, somewhere on the edge of Exeter.

For more information, visit: www.cwct.biz

Next Post in the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ Series: The Night Among The New Builds