Monday afternoon. I arrived back in London in the very early hours of the morning, with a car packed full of soggy props, mud clogged wellies and a couple of very tired, but happy people. We nearly didn’t make it home at all actually, as my poor old car got stuck in the mud on the way out of the festival car park. At midnight last night, 2 of the May Fair gang had to get out of the car and push it out of the deep trenches of mud left by previous cars. Sorry guys. Not the ideal start to a long journey. Particularly as their pushing efforts were rewarded by a covering of yet another layer of mud as the wheels spun. But as mud was something we had to get used to this weekend, they took this in their stride. As I write, the rest of the company are on a bus, heading back to London themselves. Latitude is done! What an incredible time we have had these past two weeks. Epic, I would even say. I will attempt to share the last few days here.

Wednesday: Our last day in rehearsals in Shepherds Bush, where we decided to get a flavour of what it was like to perform outside by doing a run through on the green. It was a really useful thing to do, just to get a sense of what we might be up against at Latitude-wind, rain, noise, people coming and going, uneven floors, unpredictable audiences……Orla had come into rehearsals the day before (bringing with her all kinds of delicious baked goods) and given us some brilliant  things to think about, so it was good to test things out in an outdoor environment. Of course, we would not know the exact nature of the space until we got to the festival, so it has been really important as we have got to know the show to keep open, flexible and adaptable, and not to get too fixed on doing it a certain way, as it would almost certainly have to change once we got there!

After our outdoor run, it was all about logistics. Who would take the 200 little yellow plastic ducks for our hook-a-duck stall? Who could fit a hat stand in their car? How would we get a massive suitcase full of clown props down to our departure point? What time was the bus going? What time would we all need to meet in order to get our tents up and props ready in time for our tech? An exercise in precision timing. Finally, after distributing props, costume, spare tents and sleeping bags throughout the company, we all left to go and pack before our departure in the morning.

Thursday: A threatening sky, but no rain. A phone call from Olly Hawes to say all were present and correct and that nobody had missed the bus. Excellent start. I was driving down with the car full of camping paraphernalia and May Fair set. I had no idea how much one needed in order to camp. It took me about 3 hours to load the car with all our stuff. Ridiculous. But, not having camped since I was 12, I had decided it was better to be over, than under-prepared. Head torches? Yes. Certainly.  Not one, but two. Loo roll? but of course. Bin bags? Only a fool would forget them. Jumpers? Approximately 17. Waterproofs? Plentiful. A last minute purchase of a pair of waterproof trousers had invited laughter from those around me, but let me tell you, they were the best thing I could have possibly brought with me this particular weekend.

About half way into our journey, the heavens opened. Pouring rain. Arrived onsite to see hundreds of people already marching around in mud clogged wellies, defiantly wading through puddles carrying sleeping bags and tents. Got lost as people wearing offical high vis jackets consulted maps and each told us different directions. Got stuck in the mud up a hill. Panicked. Had to get a couple of Latitude staff to help push me out. Drove to the performer campsite.Realised we needed our wristbands before we would be allowed into the site. Got a golf buggy back to the artists entrance. Got a decent covering of mud in the process. (sense a running theme yet?) Got wristbands. Got golf buggy back to campsite. Rest of May Fair team already setting up camp, so joined them in setting up in the rain. Rain then cleared as we gathered what was needed for our tech. Headed through the festival to discover the outdoor theatre, which turned out to be the most lovely space, a stage nestled in trees, amidst a wood where all kinds of exciting things were beginning to appear. Had an hour tech (fortunately it had stopped raining) which gave us time to plan our routes, plot the where our various locations would be, test the sound and see what it felt like to act in the space. Radio mics were very quickly decided upon, as the air carries the voice so easily that audiences would not have heard a thing otherwise. Tech done, it was an evening spent getting to know our surroundings, and soaking up the festival spirit.

Friday: Sunshine! Glorious, beautiful sunshine! Our magnificent clown, Dan Wilder, arrived this morning, and so the morning was spent at the top of the field where we were staying,rehearsing Joe Harbot’s piece about the May Fair clown, much to the amusement of new arrivals (balloon animals, miles of bunting appearing from nowhere, custard pies, spinning plates etc, you name it, we had it in our suitcase!). Then it was down to the outdoor theatre for our first show at 2pm. A lovely crowd, and an adrenaline fueled first show-it is a funny thing performing in a space you have not had time to get used to before, so it really was just a case of turning up and doing it! The company were brilliant, and audience response was lovely, but it was important to spend time after the show talking about what worked in the space, what didn’t, what to try differently in show 2. What really felt great was that this was a piece that people could easily wander in and out of, and catch a glimpse of something happening. After our feedback session, it was a chance to go and explore the festival again, which was bursting full of things to see, and people to bump into-the bush, paines plough, nabokov, theatre 503, hightide, the lyric, the opera group, clean break, fuel…the list goes on of companies to see and shows to watch!

Saturday: Rain. Relentless driving rain, the kind that makes you feel like you have had a shower after 30 seconds of being in it. We awoke to the sound of it on our tents, and it did not stop until tea time that day. Fortunately, we did not have a show today, so we didn’t need to worry about how to do it, let alone how to get an audience in an outdoor uncovered space in the torrential rain. But walking through the festival, people dealt with the rain pretty well, I guess living in the UK it is inevitable. And yes, the waterproof trousers were on all day and yes they were great, and I can only assume envied by those in the May Fair company who were without such an item.

Sunday: Rain. torrential rain. No wait, glorious sunshine, no, no, my mistake, driving rain again. This blog might be pre-occupied with the weather, but when camping and performing without cover, it is understandably at the forefront of one’s mind. Which one would we get for our evening show? A beautiful summers eve? or a bit of a flood? No time to think about that, as today was all about hook-a-duck, and diving into the festival with our makeshift stall. After getting borrowing buckets and bottles from various places around the festival, we blew up a big paddling pool, filled it with water and loads of plastic yellow ducks. We then spent some happy times playing hook-a-duck with festival go-ers, while Dan made balloon animals and did magic tricks for the youngsters. And then it was set up time for our 2nd and final show. And predictably, the heavens kept open as we set up in the soaking wet. costumes had to be quickly modified, wellies now part of all the action, lines changed to accommodate costume changes, journeys modified to avoid slipping and falling in the mud…..hats off to our wonderful company, as they all just got on with it and got stuck in, rain or no rain, we would make this show a cracker!

So we started. In the rain. With about 8 people in the audience. And then, gradually, as the show unfolded, the rain stopped, the sun came out, and people started to wander in. By the end of the show, we had a really lovely crowd and very warm response to the show. And actually, I thought something really came together in a way it had not yet before, in a way perhaps helped by the rain, there was a freedom, a spontaneous, joyful spirit to the performance, as actors really found their home in the space and made the different stories from our fabulous May Fair writers really fly. So what if our helium balloons had deflated so much with the wind and rain we couldnt use them? So what if our air horn didn’t work? So what if our maypole was dripping wet? None of this seemed to matter at all. What mattered was that I think we managed to deliver something of the May Fair to Latitude, and that the festival worked its own magic on us, and I feel really proud of the company, who threw themselves entirely into the experience. For our Latitude debut, I think we did ourselves proud. And as a result, have learnt so much about what it is to make theatre for that kind of an event, in that kind of an environment. Come rain or shine.

And so there we are. We ended the festival watching Eels play the crowds, with people in various wet weather gear, dancing in a crowded and happy tent.

‘Pentabus makes work that connects people and place’. I had just met Kate, and this was the first thing she said when I asked her about the company she worked for. It was early in 2010 and we were sat in a pub that looked like a hundred other pubs I’d sat in, on a street that looked like a hundred other streets I’d walked down. A place that had lost any sense of what made it unique, that had succumbed to the relentless homogenising forces of consumerism. I thought to myself, ‘what a brilliant concept to have at the heart of a theatre company’, and I’ve remembered that moment ever since.

Fast forward a year and it’s my great pleasure to be assisting Kate on Mayfair, Pentabus’ project for Latitude festival. I’m sure this has been blogged elsewhere, but just to remind you: Pentabus asked five of Britain’s most exciting new writers - John Donnelly, Joe Harbot, Vanessa Oakes, Gbolahan Obisesan and Lou Ramsden - to attend a writers week during Ludlow’s Mayfair. Their task was simple: to each write a short play about the Mayfair. And so, after a week of experiencing as much of the Mayfair as possible, first drafts were submitted. A month later, we had the final drafts. And now we’re at the end of our first week of rehearsals.

That relationship between people and place has been something I’ve been constantly reminded of this week. The place that defines our project is Ludlow. The performance we’re making is, after all, a series of short plays set at a fair in Ludlow, created by a company from Ludlow. But as soon as one starts to consider things a little further it gets more complicated. We’re performing our plays about Ludlow in Suffolk, for example; at festival - something that’s closely related, but essentially different to a fair. And we’re rehearsing in London. In a space that, until very recently was the home of the Bush theatre. It feels good to be rehearsing there - we’re in the old auditorium, the site of thousands of great theatrical moments. But equally one can’t escape the feeling that we’re inside a building that’s verging on disused. There’s a lighting rig that doesn’t work. The offices are cluttered, but devoid of human activity. Out of date leaflets are scattered everywhere. it feels a bit like a theatrical ghost town. Are we bringing new life into the building or prolonging it’s slow demise? How is that going to effect our piece!?

Then there’s the plays themselves. In one two lovers steal away from the fair to the relative privacy of the woods, this allows them to behave in ways they wouldn’t be able to elsewhere. In another there’s an argument based on where someone’s from - ‘He can f*ck off back to Knighton!’. And in another a hopeless father tries to show a restless daughter the value of living in the same place as her ancestors. And of course there are all the early questions and probings that arise at the beginning of rehearsals: ‘Where is the fair from here?’ ‘Has he really never left Shropshire?’ ‘She spends her life travelling from one place to another - so she wouldn’t understand that, would she?’ ‘She wants to go somewhere else - but he can’t understand that’. ‘Well if I were in the village I grew up in, we wouldn’t need to point out directions - everyone just knows’. ‘He’s from a generation where it was expected that father and son would live and work in the same place’.

Then of course there’s the people working on the project. Each bringing their own experiences and ideas to the table. I wonder to what extent they’re defined by the place they’re from. There’s no way of knowing, regardless I thought it would be interesting to ask everyone where they consider themselves to be from:

‘I genuinely don’t know the answer to the that question’

‘Northumberland’

‘Cumbria’

‘Purely. And Cheltenham. And Deptford. Is that too greedy?’

‘Cambridge’

‘The Fens?’

‘The Fens!’

‘London. West.’

‘London. North - but I’m not really a North London person! A lot of my friends consider me a Welshman.’

‘It’s not where you’re from it’s where you’re at’, (pause, followed by, with what I perceived to be an air of sheepishness about it) ‘I’m from Southampton.’

‘I’m a Scouser. And I use that term because if you say Liverpool, it has football connotations’

‘You’re a blue are you?’

‘No, I’m a red, but that’s why Liverpudlians use the term Scouser, instead of Liverpudlian’

‘A small village outside Huddersfield’

‘Which one?’

(Elusively) ‘Let’s just say Huddersfield’

Next week we’re planning on doing a run on outside, on a green just across from the theatre. Another discussion that’s cropped up more than a few times this week is about the space we’re performing in at Latitude - the ‘far away forest’. Essentially, we have no idea what it’s going to be like, but we’re hoping that the green will go some way towards providing similar conditions. Maybe that’s asking for too much.

I guess that it’s a combination of the differing but also the similar things we experience in the places we’ve been that allow us to understand and identify with each other better. This project has definitely reinforced that idea to me. With five days to go to Latitude, I think we’re in a pretty good place.

Olly Hawes

Assistant Director

May Fair

Well, as things are about to get pretty crazy in the world of Pentabus, I thought I would write with a short update. It’s all very exciting and very busy as we prepare for not one, but two shows! FOR ONCE is building momentum, with rehearsals starting in little over a week in our lovely rehearsal room in Ludlow. We have an absolutely fantastic cast and we will be thrilled to welcome them into the building. It is such a beautiful, intricate and warm piece of writing and I think they are going to have wonderful experience getting into the world of this one family whose lives have been ripped apart by tragedy. I was lucky enough to be part of the casting process, where we heard Tim’s words spoken for the first time and I was struck by how recognisable and familiar these characters were as they confide in us. In a space like the Hampstead studio, that level of intimacy and connection with an audience can only be a great thing. They will rehearse for a couple of weeks in the country, then will head up to London for the final 2 weeks of rehearsal, before we open in early July. I am sure that over the coming weeks you can expect blogs from the FOR ONCE team, so keep checking back.

Meanwhile, I am busy with MAY FAIR, our debut Latitude show. I keep looking at the Latitude website, where they have a countdown to the festival, which kind of makes me feel a bit nervous every time I see the seconds ticking away! But what a festival it is going to be-the range of artists and theatre makers and musicians taking part is quite breathtaking and we are so thrilled to be part of such a huge event. We start rehearsals in less than a month, and will have 9 days to bring to life what our MAY FAIR writers produced in our writers week. Exciting. Terrifying. Exciting again. We had our first design meeting the other day, and it was great to start thinking about how these 5 pieces are going to sit together in one space. Having never been to Latitude before, I am having to go on other people’s experiences, and pure guesswork! The designer Jean asked a bit more about our space and all I could reply was ‘er, I think we are in a wood’. Useful. Fortunately, she has now managed to get some pictures and dimensions from the brilliant people at Latitude and lo and behold, we are totally in a wood. We are dead excited about how we can find ways to use the space to capture a fair experience-and the woodland environment I think will really lend itself to the pieces our writers have written.

It is also the first time I have worked on something outside, and with people coming and going, so it is going to be a fantastic learning experience I reckon! I am casting as we speak, our writers have produced their second drafts, we are searching for clowns, booking coaches, and most importantly, we are thinking of how many uses a plastic yellow duck could have. More info on all of this as plans progress……..

I stared into the pint of water in front of me, why had I said yes when Joe asked me if I was going on the Tagada? Why hadn’t I got off the ride while we sat and waited for it to slowly fill with teenagers and why had everyone (except me and Gbolahan) screamed and stamped for it to go on, and on, and on…

For five fleeting days the May Fair allows the good people of Ludlow and the surrounding area to scream, laugh, fight and fall in love. It gives Keith and his colleagues from the street cleaning team a chance to ‘deep clean’ – a spring purge. It gave me the opportunity to spend a memorable week working with Pentabus and four other talented writers and also reminded me not to try to pursue a career in professional darts.

The teenagers we met told us: ‘when the square’s empty it looks small… when the fair’s here, it looks huge… people say they never go but you always see them there… it reunites people’.

While nothing could ever persuade me to experience the ‘thrill’ (sickness, headache, bruises and whip lash) of a Tagada ride again I’d be more than happy to return to the May Fair.

Vanessa Oakes

So we have reached the end of our writers’ week for this year. After a slap up pub lunch in Ludlow’s The Church Inn, the 5 writers departed their various ways to head home again, leaving the May Fair to continue its merry making for another 48 hours, before it too, would pack up and move on. It has been a fantastic week and we have had the privilege of meeting some wonderful people, who have all been generous with their time and willing to talk to us about their lives. We have been to beautiful community gardens and met volunteers, we have met market traders, writers, poets, Mayors and former Mayors, we have sipped coffee in Costa with several teenagers, and met the owner of the May Fair himself. And of course, we have been to the fair, weaved our way through the lights and the noise, made ourselves a bit sick on the rides, and on the obligatory candy floss, watched the atmosphere change from after school family outings to after dark alcohol fuelled meetings. (and obviously managed to make time to watch a bit of the Royal Wedding amidst everything else. )

And all the while I wondered how each writer will engage with each experience. It’s a funny thing setting up something like this week-we set up meetings and make schedules and plan visits, but ultimately, we have no idea what it is that will inspire an idea in someone, and that is both exciting and nerve wracking all at once. Particularly as this year, for the first time, we have Latitude in our sights.

On the final morning, we all gathered in Toad Hall (the cottage where 3 of the writers were staying) and the writers shared their early ideas. Gathered around laptops, or huddled over pieces of paper, we took it in turns to read what each writer had produced in just a few hours-a tall order from Pentabus, but a great way to air the beginnings of an idea for a story, a character, a relationship. And I have to say it was a really thrilling morning-it seemed to me like everyone had really invested in the people we had met during the week, and the things that had been said, and the stories that started to take shape were beautifully observed, funny, unsettling, tender.

And then that was that. Our final morning, but the beginning of our journey to Latitude. And what a brilliant starting point. Will be keeping you posted with further developments, and will soon be posting some blogs from the writers, along with some pictures of our week……

A quick writers’ week update. It is now Wednesday. The end of day 2. OK, so the weather has not been quite as glorious as last week, but close. Our 5 writers arrived on various trains yesterday, and after much ferrying to and from Ludlow station, we all gathered in Bromfield to talk about all things May Fair. Hurrah. And what better way to kick off the week than a visit from the Ludlow Mayor himself, who very kindly came and gave a brilliant insight into Ludlow town, and the nuts and bolts of ensuring the May Fair is a successful event. We rounded off the day with a very civilised drink in one of the town’s many pubs, and enjoyed the quiet before the fair began to roll into the very narrow streets of Ludlow today. Before the huge vehicles made their appearance however, the writers had a chance this morning to get a sense of the town pre fair-with a delightful historic chat from a man named Roger, who runs the town tours all year round. Then, a chance to reflect on things so far, another meeting with a resident whose house during the fair becomes a backdrop to some pretty hairy rides and then home for one more sleep before the fair officially begins.

As I drove back into town this evening after a day away, there was a tangible shift in atmosphere as huge caravans, trucks, cars and trailers had popped up, roads had been closed and diversion signs put out. And there seemed to be a significant increase in people, particularly children, in the streets and around the castle square. There was a real air of excitement and anticipation and industry in the air, with a mixture of eager bystanders and efficient workers getting started on things already. Apparently they start setting up the rides at 6am tomorrow morning. We will not be there at that time. But. With meetings planned with some young people who have lived in Ludlow all their lives, the street cleaning team and watching the rides getting built, it is set to be a busy day I think, and I am very much looking forward to witnessing the transformation from market town to thriving fairground in a matter of hours! I wonder what our writers will make of it all……..