I'm furious!!!

A world exists outside theatre, actually

Vernon took me to one side today to tell me that my MFA is ending!!! I am so angry!!! Apparently I've always known this but actually, Vernon, this is the first I've heard of it!!! A three month MFA is NOT my idea of a worthwhile education actually!! Also, BRIEF CANDLE has been turned down by the RSC - what did they expect? Iambic pentitameters?? IT'S NOT SHAKESPEARE, IT'S A MODERN PLAY COMMENTING ON OUR SHORT EXISTENCE ON THIS PLANET!!! Some people...

All these frustrations and angerments I have poured into a heartfelt poem which I would like now to share with you. I have called it "Les Especes de la Misere":

I drop my stare

To keep you from the glare

Of my disappointedness.

Were I to look

Into the book (of life)

I would be sick.

'Tis true I aspire

To climb out the quagmire

Of my ne'erending despair.

But why?

And more importantly -

Where?

At times like these I turn to chocolate. A Nutrageous will lift your blood sugar levels even when your soul plummets.

Theatre is at a crossroads

I just need you all to know that.

The obvious follow-up question therefore is: "Do I wait for green?"

Troubling times indeed...

LiveB8 - the Importance of Going Up to Edinburgh!!!

Many of you will have heard of the upforthcoming LIVEB8 fish conference being organised in Edinburgh in July. It's to protest about the lack of decent LiveB8 fish restaurants in London these days, and I for one have all the elastic bands I can get on to my wrist, just to show to everyone that I CARE!!! (I could have said "I CARP" but that might be out-of-PLAICE as a joke here!!!). Anyway, that's not the point (sorry, I'm FLOUNDERing here!!!) - Sir Lord Geldof has suggested everyone come to Edinburgh to show the LiveB8 politicians that we care about fish, and I've emailed Sir Lord Bob directly to suggest that he delay the demo by just ONE MONTH so it coincides with the Edinburgh Fringe Festival (I could have said FISHtival!!!)!!!! Because I believe THEATRE is the GREATEST TOOL WE HAVE FOR WORLD CHANGE!!! Pink Floyd and Madonna were all good in their day and will please the wrinklies, but us Cutting Edge Youth need AYCKBOURN and LLOYD WEBBER if we're to make a DIFFERENCE!!!!

If you agree, email Lord Sir Bob direct at his email address bobagob@gimmecash.com like I have did. It can't do less than be ignored, and what use is art if it's not about something? Hmmm? Hmmm?

Viva Vocchi

I have been told by course leader Vernon that I am to have a Vovi Veecho (sic). My quick rejoinder was that I didn't hold a driving licence but thankyou very much!!! How wrong could I be!!! A Viva Vocchi is - apparently - a sort of lovely big Q&A type thingy where I get to be interviewed!!! Perfect preparation for my launch onto the Wide World of Showbiz!!! I call it my Jerry Springer moment!!! Vernon says there is serious concern that I am not fulfilling the criteria, but I say: The Criterion has never been full since the day it opened!!! (I'm very quick when I need be.)

Also, I had a lovely Nutrageous bar yesterday. It really was excellent. I urge you to buy one soon.

Watch this space!!!

Revelations and profunditities!!!

Oh my GOD!!! It's like I've suddenly realised why we all love show business!!! It's fundacutely because deep down, EVERYONE LIKES DRESSING UP!!!! This instant and somewhat alarming apercu (look it up, it's a French word) came to me this afternoon when I was soaking in my bath here in Tifton (where I live), listening to the gorgeous Elaine Page talking about musical theatre (a neglected genre, as I'm sure we can all attest to) on BBC's Radio 2: Elaine's silvery tongue has of course adorned some of the greatest musicals of the 19th century and above, and it's no coincidence that I called my pet hamster Elaine before she died (my hamster, not Ms Page!!!). All of which brings me rather cleverly and neatly to my other revelation and profundititity: that it is MY DESTINY TO BECOME A LEADING VANGUARD OF THE THEATRE!!!!

Now I know that might come across as a bit smug and possibly arrogant, but it is because there's a young director called Shea Thurrock (my guess is she's from Essex) apparently who is already a very leading young theatre personage in the World of Theatre!!! I owe this piece of info from my good pal Gene David Kirk (see link to his truly insightless blog, right - or click on his name here). Gene is lucky to be working with Shea on several productions soon... And personally, I think this is great news!!! Especially as one of them is a revival of that fine oeuf of the 1970s, GODSPEL!!!! My mum used to play the original cast recording all the time when I was growing up and so I am litreally hotwired by the songs!!! "Prrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepaaaaare ye the waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay of the Looooooooooooooooooooooooooord!" as Jeremy Irons so rightly sang before he became humourless and boring!!!!

All of which leads me to the conclusion: we who are unnaturately gifted OWE it (my caps) to our brethren to spread the Gospel of Theatricalitude!!!! Go, my brethers, and multiply the teachings of Theatreness!!!

The lonely turf

Well, I finally wowed them with my beautifully staged presentation!!! This has been an incredulously stressful time in my life, but only because I will insist on EXCELLENCE!!! After all, what is theatre without excellence? (And vica versi, of course!!!) Many of my fellow MFA students seemed a tad nervous about the presentations... Obviously they had failed to put in the work what I did. This is simply not good enough and I may well have to email Vernon with my misgivings... For instance, Fiona Pith, who has been attached to the Gunston Players in Tifton did a positivly WOEFUL 20 minutes on "Why Metatheatricality and Abstinence Accords With Twenty-First Century Stage Praxis"... which is, like, so last century. And Foster Urgent, a rather tall and slightly menacing student, produced a banana and simply ate it for twenty minutes very slowly... THIS IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH, PEOPLE!!! DO YOU WANT TO BE MASTERS OF FINE ART OR DON'T YOU??? Anyway, soon it weas my turn and I think the judging panel (Vernon; Wally Grey from the Orange Cheese Theatre and a great friend; radio actress Glenda Mint (love her work); and Carpenter Shedd, the original course instigationist) immediately felt relaxed, knowing pearls were going to be forthcoming.

My subject and title (which I had changed after much reflexology and self-questioning) was: WHITHER ART? A SURVEY OF CURRENT METHOLODOGIES AND INTERSTICESES and I began as I intended with the following:

"In my survey of current praxis in the theatrical world of theatre it has strucked me many times (pause) that THEATRE IS ALSO AN ART. By wich I do not of course aver that it is not also a SCIENCE (very long pause), but that it is finally and uneradicably an ART. To back up my praxis I visited a PLAY... (first slide: a programme for my play, to illustrate my argument) But that was scarce enough, for I also READ THIS PLAY (new slide: me reading quietly). This illustrates two different factors which I believe COMBINE (next slide: an armlock) to give us a RESULT (final slide: a happy face)..."

I continued in this fashion somewhat longer than I intended, but 90 mins of me is usually worth it, and I could tell from the silence at the end that people did not know what to say when I finally wrapped proceedings...

No-one spoke to me, not even in the pub afterwards, but then directing is a lonely business at the best of times (Harriet Marriott was always telling me that at The Royal Shrug - well, before her op, of course), and I am ready to plough the lonely turf...

All I have learnt from today is three things:

1) Theatre is INTELLECTUALITY combined with PASSION
2) Art is not ENOUGH: you have to have TIME
3) I am beyond most of my peers in my GRASP of the ESSENTIALATE

I feel ready for my next challenges!!!

Help requested for my upcoming assessment

Next week is my first ever assessment thingy!!! Very exciting because I'm going to be judged on things like haircut, intensity of expression, seriousnessness, and (most importantly) IMPORTANCENESS!!! Anyway, here is a little taster of what I shall be doing as my presentation. I will be bringing a small CD player so that I can be accompanied by some Tschaikovsky - music is integral to performance and this will be a performance, albeit one without my usual set and costume changes:

Darkness. A hush. Enter THE STUDENT. Distant music (Tschaikovsky).

STUDENT: My experience at The Royal Shrug was not without paradigms or syntax. (Pause.) Effectively, it was what all theatre should be. It was and remains an artistic synthesis of values, committed by, to and for: The Other. (Pause.) Ergo. (Pause.) What it can NEVER be is WITHOUT. For what is outside the ACT is withoutside the ART. (Long pause.) Allow me to explain, and if not explain, then explicate...

This is just a rough outline of what I choose to call my Overture. I will of course decorate it with slides and conjecture to keep it thrilling (in an intellectual way)... I expect I'll get an A++++ but I must remain indifferent, if only for the sake of my fellow students. They may be less gifted but they have their talents, I'm sure...

Watch this space!! And do please offer critiques and observations: I may not be able to reply individuously but I will read every one and I'm sure they will be useful!!!

Tifton graduate wins award!!!

2004 Tifton MFA graduate, Evan Think, receives his Empty Theatre award

Evan was a legend during his time at Tifton. Vernon says he's the brightest young student he's ever had the pleasure to teach. I'm delighted for him, and for the theatre business to which he now applies his considerable gifts of dramaturgy and other stuff... His static production of Wozzeck (performed entirely without an audience) also garnered twelve nominations. Well done, Evan!!!

The rest is...

Another week has gone by and you may have noticed I have been silent. Fear not - it is an angry silence... I have just been told by Mum that we are in the middle of a GENERAL ELECTION!!! Excuse me, but how come I am the last to know??? Needless to say, I elected not to vote!!! That'll teach Tony Blair and his cronies!!! I was one of the few people to protest about Iraq - WAKE UP, ENGLAND!!! - and the thought that Mr Blair might carry on his wayward ways makes me consider giving up my MFA!!! I've organised a petition with Col. If it's sucessfull we may turn it into a contempory hard-hitting musical extravaganza... It reads thusly:

We, the undersigned, OBJECT to Tony Blair and will NOT be saying anything while he remains PRIME MINISTER of our lands.

Only thusly can we register our OBJECTIONS, readers!!!

I hope you will understand if my blog goes into pained silence for a few days... Not only as a form of silent protest, but also because I still have to write my assessment and time is pressing... Forwards, not back!!! Are you thinking what I'm thinking? We are the real alternative!!!

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.