1) We did the bears
We were scared. We knew it was important to do and we were aiming to give the story back. To give it gentle new life without trying to own it as ours. We wanted to do the opposite of what the story had become notorious for- it had been stolen from the villages themselves and sharpened into a serious insult. One resident remembered a time when their cottage had been graffitied with ‘Who Killed the Bears’ just when they'd moved to the village. This was normal and expected. So our performance at the Pludds was the one we were most nervous about. We really didn’t want to offend anyone, and it felt important to attempt it. And if we're honest, we had been hearing a lot of opinions at the other villages. People were always very quick to warn us about 'The Foresters', and how they'd hate us doing the story, and how they were glad we were on wheels to make a quick getaway. And we're ashamed to say that this gossip was starting to work on us. It got under our skin a little bit, and the stories that were being woven amongst the company were of inevitable failure. If someone had given us a ticket to not do the show, we probably would have taken it.
Fast forward to the night of the show. We had met the lovely, lovely promoter who had filled us with tea and confidence, and the chair of Air in G was there too to show support. So far, so good. But we still hadn't met the audience. In fact, no tickets had been pre sold. As we hid backstage, we were both imagining a row or two of stony faces. But as the pre show minutes ticked by, we could hear more and more of a buzz gathering in the foyer. We even heard happy laughter and boisterous good humour. But these were foresters! Foresters are suspicious and stern. Foresters don't laugh... do they?
We feel pretty silly that we were so caught up in the rumours before we got here. Because this was a marvellous audience. In fact, of all our shows, right across the two counties, this one turned out to be our hands down favourite. It was a total riot for the first hour. But then we came to The Bears....
There was an audible gasp/groan when we tentatively hinted at the story we might do next. And this was followed by intense silence, punctuated only with intakes of breath. We reached the end and the silence remained. But it was a respectful silence. None booed. None left the room. Sure, there was no applause, which we used to get sometimes after each story. But the silence had changed, and it was something like a slightly reluctant acceptance. Afterwards a lot of people came up to us. Some just wanted to talk about the bears story- how they know the story, how it had been used against them and what they had heard. And some came to tell us that they approved of our version. the compliment was never given lightly, or with ease, but perhaps the fact that it felt hard won made it all the more special.
Plus on the way home, we nearly ran over some wild boar. So a pretty brilliant night had by all.
2) Three became two
Another rather notable event was when our third performer, Rachel, was unable to continue for health reasons, leaving Chloe and I a duo at short notice. Our first thoughts were that we had to cancel- we had no time to rehearse anyone in. But this project has been such a labour of love, and while we discussed the practicalities over the phone, both of us were secretly, almost subconsciously exploring another option. That we go on and do what we can.
I remembered a performance I had seen of The Reduced Shakespeare Company when I was a teenager. During the chaotic first scene, one of the actors left the stage for a costume change… and never came back on. After a brief pause, the other actors went to check and then came out asking if there was a doctor in the house. The long and short of it was that the first actor had broken his leg backstage and was unable to continue. We were all told that we would be receiving a refund there and then. But the the remaining two actors offered to attempt to carry on. It would be bonkers, they said, and it would make even less sense than before, and it would probably be rubbish, but if we were up for sticking around, they were up for giving it a go. The audience erupted in cheers, nobody left, and I have never forgotten that moment, or how impressed I was with the show they created. It felt even more special than the polished three person performance that we should have been seeing. Buoyed by this, we decided we had nothing to lose (other than a bit of sleep and a few hundred extra calories), and we made the offer. All three remaining villages accepted and so it was all systems go.
We worked out we had about an hour to go over the script together, so I made a stab at rewriting it for two and found that generally it was quite straight forward. In some places we had to cut speech altogether. In other places it could be reassigned to other characters. Dramaturgically it was a pretty interesting exercise. In fact, I’d recommend doing it in the writing process for any new play- it helps you properly assess how involved each character is in any part of the play, and how ‘valuable’ you have made them. So essentially, cut a character and see what happens and you get to know your own play a whole lot better. Other things were impossible to get around, so we hit upon the idea of involving the audience where we couldn’t practically do without a third actor. Why not? They were there, they were a resource, and we couldn’t do it without them. This threw up number of wonderful moments in the play, and one in particular that worked so well that we couldn’t believe we hadn’t written it that way in the first place.
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| Our first stand in Gertie |
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| Our stand in Gertie for The Pludds |
Essentially, the character of Gertie has a cracking, Braveheart style final speech to attempt to bring The Story Exchange back together when it's in danger of falling apart. Narratively it just couldn’t be cut. But when you give that speech on a piece of paper to an audience member who stands up just as Freddie is about to leave the hall, then the speech really starts to make sense. And the performances, mostly completely unrehearsed (although one fantastic volunteer from the Found in the Forest youth theatre came in totally off book, putting Chloe and I to shame!), the performances were raw and breath taking. I found a few times that I just couldn’t act when it was happening, I was so moved by their willingness to just go for it. And the meaning sang through, and now I can’t wait to play those in the remaining venues on our tour this summer. From an awful crisis (nobody EVER wants to cancel a show), we were forced to find solutions that absolutely sang. Had we been clever we would have thought of them in the first place, but fate has been our friend.
3) We got to know stuff
For us, perhaps one of the unexpected wonderful things to have come out of the tour has been our new found knowledge about certain parts of the county. It’s not necessarily immediately useful information- I certainly couldn’t direct you anywhere, or tell you what the main industries are or where you could find the nearest Tesco’s. But gradually our tour, a bit like a gigantic join the dots, started to come together and then unravel to reveal hidden gems. I know that if I ever drive near Kempley in the Spring that I would suggest a detour to see the famous Wild Daffodil bloom, so famous that people come from all over Europe in tour buses to see it. Or I could tell you that Stroud is the place where the fabric gets made for snooker tables and tennis balls. And I could tell you that there was once a pot bellied pig called Baldrick who used to roam the lanes of Clifford’s Mesne, and who was sadly lost in the foot and mouth epidemic. And these were just the first that sprang to mind, I didn’t think particularly hard to recall these. What a wonderful thing, to leave with such beautiful, peculiar and particular knowledge about places that make barely a dot on the road map.
4) Lizzy had a baby
In amongst the chaos, our wonderful Producer, Lizzy, gave birth to an equally wonderful baby girl, Willow. She is 100% cute. And, much as we have missed Lizzy on this bit of the tour, we've been very happy to welcome our new Tour Manager, Tim Bland, to the team. Theatre Rush (alongside Katie's waistline) is expanding and that can only be a good thing. Exciting times.
5) We saw the show working
In Kempley (you remember, the daffodil place) we witnessed the show working in a way that we had hoped might happen, but probably didn't truly believe would happen. Our hosts here were just fantastic, and the village felt so vibrant and alive. Roy wanted to welcome a new family to the village, as this would be the first village hall even they had attended. Normally he would make a speech himself, but as our show starts with a speech anyway, we convinced him to allow us to work that information into our opening spiel. So, the family were introduced and welcomed by name, which was already a lovely use of the show as a vehicle for community cohesion.
But then things went further, as the father ended up being an intrinsic part of the show during one of our sections of audience interaction. He gave a fantastic, silly and VERY funny performance (if memory served it may have involved an exotic dance) to absolutely rapturous applause. And his children had a wail of a time watching their father doing all manner of wonderfully silly things. That particular evening's events ended with a raffle, which we got to watch from the back of the hall, and I found it all profoundly moving. As the new family won a prize, and everyone cheered, and then they left to a good natured chorus of congratulations and good humoured teasing (and everyone knew their names) I thought, ‘what an amazing way to enter a village’. With mirth and good humour and laughter. Those first awkward conversations all dealt with, a shared experience helping to break any ice that may have lay between them. It was a result none of us could have foreseen, but one that will stick with me for a long time.
6) We're looking to the future
And the future holds some pretty big challenges for the company. We have the next stage of our project, taking in Wiltshire and the Thelma Hulbert Gallery in Honiton. But we also have another company baby on the way, AND Chloe's ongoing project on water, and a curated residency at The Bike Shed. So, for the next year or so, Theatre Rush will be boldly setting off charting the choppy waters of being an artist/parent and, although we are daunted, we are also pretty darn excited. We're thinking we may have one or two things to say about this balancing act, so do keep reading, and also get in touch if you have any experiences you could share.
But for now, onwards warrior women, and let's have some fun.
