Sunday, October 11, 2009

If you choose so (First time at the Royal Court Theatre)





After a tiring day of tube orienteering, city trekking and visiting exhibitions around London, our MA group went to see 'The Author', directed by Tim Crouch at the Royal Court theatre last week. I didn't know him till then and think this was a good piece for me to be introduced to his work. The structure of the performance and its presentation didn't quite give me a clear idea of what Crouch's work is all about, which is a good sign; meaning I might go back to see his next play.


Climbing up the stairs to get to the top floor, where the Jerwood Theatre is situated, quite gave the impression that the place we would have arrived at was some sort of a big attic transformed into a theatre space. As we entered I was not surprised that it was so, only when we had to take a seat I realised I mustn't be having any further expectations of what was about to happen. The seats were arranged in such a way so that one half of the audience was facing the other, while in the middle was a very narrow passage, which could hardly be called a stage. So there we were, inevitably staring at each other, chatting away, laughing and waiting for the performance to start.
Well at this point that could already be called a performance, since we were put in a pre-defined space and therefore forced to create some form of interaction different to the one created in a more traditional theatre. As we already had an object in front of our eyes, that might as well have been the subject of the show.


An expansive voice attracted our attention so there goes the first performer. He was not visible, or at least not to the whole audience, although one could sense he was certainly amongst us. An informal conversation was rapidly wound up as the actor threw compliments at us and picked a few people to share something about themselves. So was that a discussion group now? I still hadn't seen his face when another one cut in, and there he was, sitting amongst the audience just infront of me. And then again a third one spoke, behind the second, and then a lady, just behind me, had her story to tell.
What I found interesting was the fact that you were not expected to look at the actors, as some of them were behind you. Soon, it was a matter of choice looking at the ones in front of you as well, you could easily just look around the audience, take notes or even read a book, as during most of the performance there was a uniform light spreading in the whole space.


Four actors, engaged in a conversation, telling a story of scattered pieces, discussing their experience with handling the performance of and relation to violence, hope, choice. They were clearly acting, but as they searched every now and then for the audiences' approval it became more natural that we were all gathred together; so much that after a while it felt like being in a theatre workshop rather than a formally announced performance.


It was natural to leave the stage, shortly after the actors did. It had indeed been an interesting encounter, a hybrid between theatre, performance and a discussion group that could have engaged you emotionally, only if you chose so of course.

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