Assessments panic!!!

Hello, my loyal readers!!! Shaun here!! I haven't died!!! I know I've been very remiss in not blogging recently - a mild form of profound depression (medical term Unenthusiastica Apathitis)afflicted me deeply and I found I could see no good in the world... Fortunately, it's lifted and I'm now incredibly happy again!!!

Vernon (course leader) emailed me to say that my attitude was "wanting" (sic) and that I would need to "change (my) attitude", which is remarkably arrogant of him. I don't know - I'm surrounded by arrogant people these days... perhaps that's why I've been battling with depression... Vernon has asked to see the directing advice I gave my fellow MFA students, and I keep telling him that I was in the room at the time so there was no need for any of them to actually read my advice!!! I mean, really!!! He also upbraded (sic) me for being "rude to Prat" and risking jeapordising the "whole Unit"!!! At times like these it's all I can do not to laugh contemptibly and dismiss such stuff!! But if theatre is about anything it is about conflict - so maybe I should celebrate such trials...

Anyway, he went on to inform me that an assessment is due in 2 weeks' time, based on my experiences at The Royal Shrug. He wants 3,000 words and a 10 minute presentation - I said that would be very difficult because I have a lot to say, not least about his (Vernon's) attitude... I must confess a growing sense of disappointment in Vernon's mien (a French word) and the course in general... I am an intellectual type, after all, and we intellectuals find it difficult to stoop to such shallows...

I'll keep you posted, okay!!! Don't forget to comment!!!

Traumatic return to T.A.A.D.

There are days when I wonder if I'm in the right biz!! Today was such a day. I had foolishly hoped that Prat would understand the difficulties with wich I have been embroiled these last weeks. But - as I am discovering - Prat's world revolves entirely around Prat!! He decided to punish me for my absence by getting me to illustrate why Ionesco's penis is fundamental to an understanding of Italian commedia. To ill-disguised smirks from the acting students I posited the theorem that as drama is thrusticular in motion, so Ionesco's member acts as an image of such action - reasonable enough within the context of a Tifton MFA of course, but a source of much mirth to these non-intellectual types. Prat started screaming at me: "No, no, NO! Ionesco's Penis has none of dese qualities!!! You are idiot! You are fool!" I'm afraid I couldn't resist the smart rejoinder: "Well, you are PRAT!" and flounced out... I have decided I can no longer continue at the T.A.A.D. and have left a detailed explanation on Vernon's answerphone. This is simply not good enough, and I expect a full apology not just from Mr Skrohtm, but also those students who attended his class today!! Oh how I wish I could simply run my own theatre company, with Col as dramaturd. I am thoroughly and indeed utterly disillusioned and bereft... A lonely business indeed...

UP THERE'S HEAVEN closes early

Some of you will have noticed that I haven't been blogging much this week. I appologize. It has been a difficult time. After a run of barely one week UP THERE'S HEAVEN has closed. An avalonche of negitive press proved too much and the Royal Shrug's management took the executive desision (which after all is their right) to shut the thing down. I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, this Kosovo love story is absolutely cutting-edge theatre (to which we all aspiure): on the other, it's a bore. Especially having to hand endless props to a mute and deaf amputee whom you know is also the star and producer. Harriet thankfully remains oblivious to this sad news and will probably continue to shuffle on to the dark stage long after the last light is switched off.

On top of this, I have just experienced exactly what theatre should never ever be. THE DOCTOR WHO at the world famous Orange Cheese in Surrey, Twickenham. Not only was pouty-faced Christopher Ecclesley not (my italics) in it, also there were no Boliks or Cidermen for him to fight with - and the inexperienced director (a student I regret to say) made the fatal error of staging it in the round, when it was crying out for a promenade production. I had a quiet word with artistic director Wally Grey CBBC afterwards, and he confided that there had been "problems" (sic). Wally is a true maverick and friend (he was the first person to turn down my playlet BRIEF CANDLE), and it is evident that THE DOCTOR WHO (and also, shouldn't that be WHOM?) is entirely not what his octogenarian audience want. There have been many complaints at the lack of a decent interval and that the cast shout too much. I remember Wally's seminalistic production of Urquharquhar's hilarious Restoration comedy HOPE'S CONTAGION at the Cheese (as we call it) many a long moon ago. He has always championed Empty Theatre - indeed he was probably the first - and his cast, entirely dressed in bin-liners for budgetary reasons, coped with Urquharquhar's notoriously taxing rhymes with a wayward, yet occasionally brilliant, abandon. His deliberate neglect of stagecraft is what brought him his CBBC after all. I told Wally I was taking an MFA at Tifton and he said blankly that I must come and assist him at the Cheese one day. I'll drop him a line soon. It is my duty.

Next week I return to the T.A.A.D. This setback has only garnered my loins. Forwards, not back, as our esteemed Prime Minister so rightly says!!!!

Unfunny cartoon

Someone has sent me this cartoon: I'm sorry, but WHERE IS THE JOKE?

Roasted - April 2005
A Shaun Spock Pic

(If you can't read the balloon-dialogue, use a microscope.)

Harriet has had some abysmal reviews. Billington: "As piss-poor a production as I can recall. Avoid." Thank God she can't read them. It would break her heart.

A disastrous press night for UP THERE'S HEAVEN. Harriet Marriott arrived by ambulance mid-afternoon, having had the op. She was scooped onto the stage, where she gave a completely inert performance (as I predicted), and then - to compound matters - could not even give notes (as I also predicted). The cast are furious, Harriet oblivious, and I am embarrassed to be 5th assistant director, frankly. This was always going to be a tricky entertainment and I think Harriet's selfish and masochistic surgery goes entirely against the imaginative potential of this fine play. Michael Billington looked very bored throughout and (I am convinced) will give us a panning. And we deserve it. There, I've said it.

To compound matters, Prat sent me a vitriolic text message, asking why I had missed his Ionesco's Penis class. I am going to find it very difficult to juggle T.A.A.D. and The Royal Shrug, and I will have to decide where my loyalties lie. Theatre is so stressful!!!

Harriet is having the op

Harriet Marriott (see previous blogs) is booked into the Royal Free for her op. I fear she may be taking a literally irreversible step. She seems to have forgotten that she will not be able to give notes now, or direct other shows. A sad occasion. And a great loss to world drama.

A difficult week

Harriet Marriott (director of UP THERE'S HEAVEN) has decided belatedly to star in her own production. Her one difficulty is that she's not a deaf blind amputee, and rather worryingly she's looking into having some radical surgery before the end of the week (press night). All this on top of learning the lines (which of course she doesn't actually speak, but she insists that her inner dialogue must be scripted and learned). I am enthralled and disturbed - all theatre aspires to this level of commitment, but how many of us actually make the leap? I so wish she could meet Prat, but I fear the surgery will preclude such an encounter. I have now tracked down most of the props - I'm finding it difficult to find an iron lung for the climactic scene in the disused Kosovo hospital... But these rehearsals are certainly helping me crystallise my thoughts about my own opus, the promenade production set during the Balkanese Wars. Bookings for UP THERE'S HEAVEN are said to be "sluggish", but I pointed out that there's an election on and people are distracted. I'm convinced we'll sell out, especially in such a cramped and leaky auditorium... Watch this space!!!

Assisting at The Royal Shrug!!

The roof leaks, the pub stinks, the place is overrun by rats - IT'S EXACTLY WHAT THEATRE SHOULD BE ABOUT!!! I'm fifth assistant director on a sparkling new adaptation of UP THERE'S HEAVEN, an extraordinarily moving piece about a mute, deaf and blind amputee meeting a university professor who turns out to be a lesbian refugee from war-torn Kosovo!!! It's directed by Oxbridge graduatee Harriet Marriott, who is incredibly confident and seems to share my love of Nutrageous bars!!! She's only seventeen but what a brain!!! The one big challenge is they've got only one week of rehearsals and it's not yet fully cast, but the P.R. is fantastic (a completely blue poster with no information - very post-modern) and bookings are expected to pick up once the reviews come out!!!

I'll let you know more when I can - my priority right now is to try to source the three hundred and fourteen props the show needs!!! Phew phew!!! But I LOVE it!!!!

I simply have to create art

Woke up last night in a cold sweat: time is ebbing away and I realise that I simply have to create art. For many people, this is simply not an option, either because of their stupidity, or their lack of intelligence, or (in some cases) both. For me it is an imperature and one I cannot hide. If theatre is about anything it is about how we live (I hope Prat doesn't mind me quoting him direct). Therefore it is behoven unto me to create relivant art, and after much thought I have settled on a promenade production of the Balkan Wars, which happened quite literaly about ten years ago here on this planet. I will research this and write it up as drama. I see it as being quite long and quite static, a kind of sequel to my playlet BRIEF CANDLE (which I've now decided is not strictly National Theatre material - I have sent it direct to the Theatre Culturel de Chamonix et Aix-en-Cocottes, whose artistic director is the infamous Frederic Con.) The arc of my Projet Balkanique will be the ten years over which it took place, my central characters the Balkanese themselves - I feel it behoven that my drama should concentrate on the simple peasant folk who inhabit these backward lands. I see it staged in a deserted warehouse or car park, open to the elements but with free baked potatoes.

Anyway, tomorrow I begin my important assistantship at The Royal Shrug in North London. My understandable excitement is tempered only by growing confidence that I truly am gifted and incredibly unique. I mustn't allow such thoughts howsomever to give way to hubrisity...

Regular readers of my blog will have noticed that I have stopped using exclamation marks: this is a temporary decision. I noticed that Roland Butter never uses them (I'm reading his seminal opus Without Punctuation: A Hypocrite's Guide) and they give his words a weight it actually lacks. Which I find tres charmon (my italics)...

A Royal Occasion!!!

This is a very special day - HRH Prince Charles III has wed his betrothed, the Rt. Honorary HRH Princess Camilla Parker Knowles (see previous blogs). Chas and I had hoped to attend Their Holinesses Nuptuals in Winsor but were forbad by Vernon, a move I am sure he already regrets. Fortunately Sir Andrew Motions, the Queen's Limerickist, has composed a special poem. You can find it here and I suggest you have a family box of Kleenex by your side: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/4427239.stm

Not to be outdone, Alycia Smith has penned her own tribute in the Tifton Gazette. I know which I prefer:

You are our Prince, She is your bride
Not all can say as much
We quiver at your every quirk
She shivers to your touch.

When you are old, and she old too
Who'll bear the crush of years?
Not many, I'll be bound to say,
But then, we're not your heirs.

O Prince of ours, 'tis not too late
To 'member Diana's hymn:
"There were always three in our marriage, you know -
Me and her and him."

My blog is two weeks old today!!! A double celebration indeed!!!!

Another Prat Masterclass

Vernon forbad me (& by implication Col) going to Winsor (see previous blog). He said it was "irrelivant to the course".

So instead I attended another Prat class at T.A.A.D. His focus today was on what he calls the Five Laws. These are they:

1) Theatre is anything that happens - except fun
2) Silence is weakness and weakness is strength minus energy
3) To look is to see with our eyes
4) There are only three 'actions' and none of them can be reproduced
5) All is shit

To demonstrate these Laws he asked the prettiest student, Julie, to strip naked and stand in front of the class looking pert. After twenty minutes he elected to kiss her nipples. To protect her modesty he then asked us all to leave the room. When we returned, Julie was gone and Prat was sitting, naked himself now, reciting the Five Laws in a low monotone. The masterclass ended with him being carried from the room by four of the tallest young male students to a round of hushed applause. No wonder T.A.A.D.'s students get to work in all the major theatre companies after such a training: I am beyond impressed, and will certainly now write that overdue letter of apology to Prat.

The end of a humbling week.

Dr Zimbalist

Dr Zimbalist is a genius. I don't often say that but in his case it's true. He called all the students together into the main hall and reminded them that being an actor was probably the greatest gift to mankind there is. He said that, while they studied Staniskovsky and Ibson there were "tinted people literally dying from their wounds in Darfur" and that it was "beholden to us all to honour them by applying our craft diligently and without mercy." He then read a piece of Staniskovsky to the hushed students:

"When you enter a space, that space becomes full. Not because you have entered, but because it is now less empty."

This is something I plan to have printed on a T-shirt and sent to Darfur. Such wisdom!!! It's a privilege to be under his tutelage. In fact, I shouted as much at him later - but he completely ignored me.

There are literally millions of people queuing round Winsor Castle to see the bodies of HRH Prince Charles & HRH Lady Camilla Parker-Knowles: all the heads of state from the world are worshipping and they've closed the nearby cake shop in respect. Colin and I are hoping to go ourselves, but I have to check with Vernon (obviously)...

Vernon actually left me a message to say that - because of pressure of time - I will be starting my 2nd year theatre assistantship next week!!! And guess which theatre?? That's right!!! The Royal Shrug in North London!!! Which I've always rated as perhaps the finest pub theatre space in the universe!!! It has never been decorated or improved since it opened in 1894, and has launched the careers of everyone from Lionel Blair to Nicol Williamson!!! I'm so excited!!! This could be the launchpad I so deserve!!! And one year early!!! I hope Prat doesn't mind if I miss his 'The Merry Wives of Windsor - a Menstrual Guide' workshop!!! Watch this space!!!

My first tutorial with Vernon!!!

At last!!! I finally meet course leader Vernon Jones!!! And I was right!!! He really is very enigmatic!! Which I love!!! He pretends to be quite annoyed if you correct him (I confess, I did this several times when he got his facts wrong!!!) but then he lets you know that, all being well, we're all going to become Fantastically Important, which is exactly what I knew anyway!!! He asked me how my attachment to T.A.A.D. is going, and I said "all right, I suppose", and he seemed really pleased!!! He stressed it's hugely important not to annoy or upset anyone, and I completely agreed with him, which he liked... He asked me what my first essay is going to be about and I said "weetabix", and he looked a bit perplexed. But when I let him know I was joking, he seemed relieved and laughed for a long time!!! Anyway, the important thing is, I'm very happy with him, and I'm sure we'll get on just fine...

Back to T.A.A.D. in the afternoon and I tried to put Vernon's advice into practice by not insulting Prat. His class this afternoon was all about what he calls 'The Defecation of Responsibility', a slightly alarming but (I'm discovering!!) very typical process of linking dramatic text with bodily functions... I had no idea there was so much toilet humour in Goethe!!! Or Prat, for that matter!!!

Read in The Stage that Nicol Williamson has decapitated Lionel Blair... surely this is a step too far, even for an actor of Mr Williamson's violent talent...

Invitation to a Pete Brooke spectacular!!!

Word seems to be getting round that I'm a fairly important figure in the arts!!! A "Jennifer Scott" has emailed me to personally invite me to her new show, THE DOCTOR WHO, at the Orange Cheese Theatre in Surrey, Twickenham. I'm a huge fan of that miserable actor Christopher Ecclesley so this will be a great event, I'm sure, although I'm not sure how they'll do the Tardis or daleks. THE DOCTOR WHO was originally staged by the intellectual Peter Brooke, whom some of you may remember (he was born a bit before my time but I've read books on him and he is of course the man who created Deadly Theatre). Anyway, it's very kind of Ms Scott to invite me (and fifty of my colleagues) and offer us free ice cream!!! I shall write a report on it when I see it - book now because apparently it's nearly sold out... And don't forget to dress up with long scarves and funny hats!!! This could be as good as THE SINGALONGA-SHOCKY ROCKY SHOW, which keeps coming to Tifton on its never-ending tour!!! "Let's do the Time Wrap Again!!"

Tutorial tomorrow with course leader Vernon Jones - I'm very excited!!!

Prat on Wilde

I don't really know how to put this: I am mildly disappointed by Prat's approach to Wildean repartee. I know this is sacrilidge, and I do of course apologise to any worshippers of Prat, but I found his masterclass on Wilde's The Selfish Giant seriously lacking in intellectuous rigour and textual grounding... Roland Butter has a special chapter on Wilde in his handbook (which I love, by the way):

"The epistolary confluence of semaphore to be excavated from the oeufs of Wilde and Sheridan are countermanded only by their immediacy and imperativeness (see fig. 123a)"

Not much one can say to improve the obviousness of that statement, but Prat's approach was to stick a 50 volt battery up my arse and shout "Fuck You" at the top of his voice. When I suggested that this had little to do with Oscar's "The Selfish Giant", he shouted "Fuck You" at me again and then stormed out of the class. My suspicion is he has issues about my necessarily intellectuous approach and wanted to demonstrate an alternative. This, sadly, he failed to do. I worry that Prat's fifty years of continuous teaching at T.A.A.D. have only calcified his once original processes. Dr Zimbalist suggests I write Prat a long letter of apology, but I have decided that my humility has limits after this last week of rejection and scorn.

Censorship

Another week begins on my MFA in Theatre Directing!!! Highlights of this week will undoubtably include Prat Skrohtm's masterclass on The Selfish Giant later today. I'm also hugely looking forward to my first ever tutorial with course leader Vernon Jones later in the week!!! I have so much to tell him and from his enigmatic silences I can already tell he has the receptive skills needed to guide and lead me - money very well spent already, I'd say!!! My one sadness is that I have yet to meet my fellow MFA students - all I've been told is that they are a very nice bunch with amazingly different backgrounds and hairstyles!!! Oh yes, and I've been instructed to read French philosiphy god Roland Butter's seminal opus 'Semiology and Paradigms: A Construct' for my first assessment!!! Sounds like fun!!! I love all things French - from croissants to the leaning tower of Pisa!!! Watch this space!!!

Peter O'Toole's hilarious diatribe!!!

Ham-a-lot octogenarian Sir Peter O'Toole has attacked our great and glorious London theatre scene. You can read his comments here: http://www.britishtheatreguide.info/news/otooleontheatre.htm
I ask you!!! Has Sir Peter not heard of the luminous Sir Ian McKellen??? Or Sir Antony Sher???? Or Sir Vanessa Redgrave??? These and many more illuminous thesps nightly light up our stages with their stupendously achieved acting talents!!! And let's not forget Sir Paul Rhys and Sir Kenneth Brannigan!!! And if I'm a "smart-aleck twat" then I'm proud to join the other smart-aleck twats like Gwenda Bartram. Only yesternoon I had the privilege of enduring five long hours of Gwenda's magisterious LUNATIC OF DUST!!! I presume this is the "badly done shit" of which Sir Peter complains!! Well, if it is, then so be it!!! At least it is what it is and isn't what it isn't!!

(I had meant not to write a blog today out of respect to the memory of Ill Papa but Sir Peter's cruel and insensitive remarks emboldened me to set him straight. My apologies to my more sensitive readers...)

No blog today

I have decided not to write a blog today as a mark of respect to the Vatican. (I am very surprised no-one has mentioned the Pope once being a playwright - is this how we treat our greatest dramatists?)

So if you are reading this, please desist.

"Lunatic of Dust" - a review by Shaun Spock

I have just returned from quite simply the most extraordinary afternoon of ground-breaking theatre it has ever been my privilege to witness!! Gwenda Bartram's simply magnificent touring production of LUNATIC OF DUST by Ethan Whorwell may run over five hours and feature an apparently wilfully misguided central performance by Lionel Blair, but its themes - love, suicide, chocoholism and humility - are ones with which we can all identify, and I defy anyone not to weep buckets at the prolonged danse macabre (performed as a solo entr'acte by Blair) during the tantalisingly over-extended interval. Nicol Williamson's cameo as Inspector Henry during the notorious heist sequence is quite simply the greatest performance ever given by anyone on any stage ever, and a triumphant return to form for this most wayward of thesps. I had the great joy of interviewing Gwenda Bartram some years ago as part of my GCSE in theatre at Tifton Secondary: she was refreshingly dismissive of the so-called greats of British theatre (including Sir "Melon" Quayle and Petula Pinner), and an - at the time - reviled proponent of the gargle method of voice production. This production is vindication not only of her individual methods, but a triumph of organisation and choreography. Set in the recent future in a country not dissimilar to one very different from our own, LUNATIC details the transgressive love affair of chocoholic troubadour Serge (Blair) and his decision to rob the Bank of Luxembourg to fund his carbohydrate cravings. The highlight of course is the third act heist. This is played in complete silence, and indeed darkness, and lasts an extraordinary two hours. For those brave enough to last the distance, it ends with an astonishing coup-de-theatre and the first, indeed only, appearance of Nicol Williamson. This afternoon a restraining order meant we were denied any kind of onstage fisticuffs between Messrs Blair and Williamson but I'm told that Friday's performance was especially electrifying and violent. The marathon play ends as it began - deep in the sewers of Luxembourg - with Serge dying of chocolate poisoning in the arms of his beloved Susan (a rather bland performance from newcomer Ilyana Ellis). Tickets are still available at most prices throughout the tour, and I say - in defiance of the so-called national critics - go, go, go. Not since Sir Cameron's LES MIS have I been so moved.

Also...

...his patronising use of 'Dear'. That kept me awake until past 10pm last night. Important I draw a line in the sand.

My blog is officially a week old today! Happy birthday, Green Room!!! And thanks to all my readers for keeping the torch of theatre alive!!! Off to see a matinee of LUNATIC OF DUST with my good friend (and brilliant composer) Colin Phelps... It's been on tour for several years, and there are reports that co-stars Lionel Blair and Nicol Williamson are having onstage fights during the famous heist sequence, but to catch two legends live is a thrill in itself, and I'm delighted we were able to get two front row stalls seats so close to performance time!!!

I'll post a review later, okay!!!

More on that National Theatre nonsense!!

Still mulling over Nick Hynter's unnecessarily cruel and dismissive rejection of my playlet, BRIEF CANDLE. First of all of course there's the simple matter that Mr Hynter took almost a week (my italics) to reply!!! And this in the age of first class stamps and email!!! Secondly, is he telling the whole truth when he writes "I have now read your short play (sic)". (It's actually a playlet but let that pass.) I simply don't believe he has!!! My reasoning? He hasn't chosen it for production!!! And this at a time when the theatre is crying out for new writing talent!! No wonder the National Theatre is doing so badly (source, Colin Phelps)... Everything I've seen there in the last twelve months has been woefully amateurish, from props to acting, so I think my words carry some weight!!! No wonder there is a pressing need for people like me to be trained up - long overdue... Hynter goes on: "Good luck with your future endeavours" but how does he know what my "future endeavours" are? Has he taken the trouble to ask? No, he has not. And why not? Because he's terrified. Anyway, I discussed these matters with Mum this morning and she says it's important not to become obsessive... which is exactly the nonsense I am rebelling against... I am determined not to become bitter but how I wish Kenny Tynan were here to see the detitrus of his South Bank dream!!!

Vernon (course leader) rang this morning to ask how my attachment with T.A.A.D. was going. I mentioned my letter from Hynter but he didn't react. I've arranged to have my first tutorial with him next week - he says I have a lot of catching up to do, but I advised him that I have a lot of experience for my age and that he mustn't fret...

The Pope is gravely ill. This is very sad news. I can honestly say I never met him but I've made a point of watching many of his TV appearances over the years. I wish him all the best.