Pentabus continues to be busy over these summer months, and scripts are pouring in for WE ARE HERE, our invitation to playwrights to submit plays for a slot in our 2012 season. We have set up a London PO Box for this, and every week I head up to see what has been delivered, unsure whether to bring a bag or a wheelbarrow….so far a bag has been sufficient, but I would love it if one of these days I turn up as usual and they bring out bursting mail bags for me to carry home! (wheelbarrow safely ready in preparation for this event. I am certain it will happen.)

We had a board meeting at Birmingham mac a couple of weeks ago, which was a great opportunity to check in with everyone, to review and reflect on recent projects, and to look forward to future exciting projects. I have to say, I had never heard of Birmingham mac until recently and on arrival I think I actually vocalised a little gasp to myself, as the place is amazing! Bright, airy, accessible, busy and filled with activity, it seemed to me exactly what an arts centre should feel like. Apparently it has recently been refurbished and it is obvious they have thought really hard about the redesign, as I think it is really successful as a building. I look forward to getting to know the venue a bit more, and have another opportunity to do so this week, as I will be there for a Pentabus Meet and Greet. Oh yes. As part of our commitment to new work, I am dedicating a lot of time this year to meeting with playwrights, both locally and nationally, and to see as much new work as possible, to identify those whose ideas might resonate with Pentabus and who might be interested in what we do. Catherine from SCRIPT has been incredible in getting the word out to regional writers that we are keen to meet with them. So meet them we will. I am very much looking forward to meeting what I hope will be a diverse mix of playwrights who are all doing interesting work in the region. I will report back after the event…….!

While all this is going on, I can’t help but mention what is going on in the back of all of our minds (as I’m sure it is in most regularly funded organisations across the land); the looming shadow of the spending cuts. Uncertainty is the main issue-we just don’t know what the future holds. However, what we are certain of is the value of the arts, and the value of what we do as a company. And it is incredible to see the strength of opinion when it comes to defending and fighting for the arts, in both individuals and organisations. I read articles, twitter posts, empassioned emails, blogs, facebook status updates on a daily basis, from people who are all articulating the obvious value of the arts in our economy. Surely these kinds of facts and figures cannot be ignored?!

To quote directly from the Arts Council website (link: http://www.artscouncil.org.uk/about-us/why-arts-matter/) facts like:  ’the arts budget is tiny; it costs 17p a week per person - less than half the price of a pint of milk.’

‘For every £1 that the Arts Council invests, an additional £2 is generated from private and commercial sources, totalling £3 income.’

‘The UK has the largest creative sector in the EU, and relative to GDP probably the largest in the world.’

The Arts Council has put together a really strong set of reasons why any cuts to the arts should be carefully considered, I urge anyone who is interested to click on the above link and take a look, it makes for some interesting reading. And if what you read makes you want to do something, then I reckon a letter to your local MP might just make a difference.

Meanwhile, it is business as usual. And there is plenty to be getting on with!

http://www.artscouncil.org.uk/about-us/why-arts-matter/

First meeting scheduled for Thursday. What I find funny about it all is that because you are seeing the other person on screen, it feels like you are watching them, as opposed to engaging directly with them, and I often end up tuning out and then realising that they are waiting expectantly for an answer…….mastering the art of skypage conversation may take a bit of time, but I’m feeling fairly confident….!

In other non computer related news, I went to a very intense but exciting day in Birmingham a couple of weeks ago, to watch the work of the 11 playwrights who are about to finish their playwriting MPhil at Birmingham University. A small ensemble of actors had worked with the directors and writers over 3 days to stage the first half hour of each play. No mean feat, but they did a great job and the work was a really diverse mix. We got to meet and chat to the writers after each session and I am looking forward to seeing where these plays might pop up in the future, I know I would be interested to read a couple as they presented intriguing beginnings!

We are also about to launch WE ARE HERE, a call out to playwrights from all over the UK to send us a play that they think might fit in with what we do, for a potential slot in our 2012 season. Not only is it a way to hopefully find a new and brilliant theatrical voice (or maybe voices) but it will allow us the opportunity to get to know who is out there at the moment, and to identify writers who we might want to work with in the future. It feels really exciting to be putting an invitation out there, with no idea what the response will be. Will we get 7, or 700 scripts? who knows. More details will be posted on our website on 5th July, so if anyone reading this thinks they might have a play we will love, please check it out!

I’m back to Shropshire for an actual face to face meeting next week, so more news then.

Anyway. Weather report done. This week I will be mainly working with the company on the planning and scheduling of future projects, reading some scripts, and on Friday John and I are off to Birmingham to spend a day at a playwrights’ workshop at Birmingham University.  Really looking forward to this, it is always exciting to meet new writers and hear new work.

Tales From the Country

By Brian Viner, adapted by Nick Warburton
Pentabus Theatre Company
Pleasance Theatre

Review by Rachel Sheridan (2010)

Leaving the rat race and escaping to the countryside: it’s what all we Londoners fantasise about from time to time when the overcrowded tubes and unfriendly faces get too much. But for most us it remains a fantasy; realistically the idea of being woken by a cockerel from the local farm every morning secretly fills us with dread.

However journalist Brian Viner decided to take the plunge and move from Crouch End to the Herefordshire countryside. Pentabus Theatre Company, under the direction of Orla O’Loughlin, has taken Brian Viner’s weekly columns for the Independent, bringing to life his pursuit of the rural idyll.

Brian (Matthew Bates), his wife Jane (Sarah Stanley) and their four children (all played by the cheeky Iain Ridley) encounter the various characters that you’d expect to find in a small, quiet village and it turns out that stereotypes do actually exist! Viner’s tale is a hilarious account of a family as they struggle to deal with the loss of stylish coffee shops on every street corner and instead have to make do with the one local pub which is mourning the loss of their beloved snooker table.

Set in the local fete, Tales from the Country effortlessly jumps between the past and present, documenting the decision to move, the actual move and the process of acclimatising. Performed in an almost comic strip fashion, it’s hard to believe that there are only five cast members as characters pop up everywhere in charming cameos, switching between local farmers, children, obnoxious Australians and even to cats and dogs. Claire Vousen is particularly superb as the well-to-do lady in charge of the annual fete and one half of the couple who are devastated when the sale of their house to the Viner’s falls through.

Tales from the Country shows what it’s like when those rose tinted spectacles start to cloud up. But life is what you make it and despite the initial teething problems which are to be expected, a move to the countryside allows the Viners to experience and enjoy the simpler things in life such as the sheer unadulterated high of selling all their vegetables at the harvest festival auction. As a Londoner it’s very easy to look at life in the countryside in almost patronising fashion. It may not have the non-stop pace and excitement that London offers but each to their own, right?

Tales from the Country might not set a jaded Londoner’s heart on fire. As a performance it’s more akin to a cosy seat in front of the fire with a nice cup of tea but sometimes that is exactly what you need.

Abergavenny Theatre was lovely, intimate, and welcoming, but what I didn’t really think about until later was that this was the first venue in a while that had not been a tiny village hall, packed to the rafters with the local community all out for a good evening’s entertainment. I was not able to get to a village hall show and I wished I had, as I understand that the atmosphere was something very special. However, Sean had some friends and family in, and they helped make up the most fantastic audience who seemed to really respond to the world of the play, and the journeys that these characters made. It was a joy to watch-since Shrewsbury, the play had become so much warmer, the characters fuller and the (plentiful) stage business smoother and totally second nature.

Watching the get out after the show (I did offer to help on a few occasions, but the team had developed such a highly sophisticated system of who did what that I would have just got in the way. Honest.) was like watching another show-highly choreographed with everyone knowing their moves and the jobs they had to do, working brilliantly together. The incentive of lots of wine and a celebratory buffet in Sean’s local pub may have been a factor in their speed and efficiency, but they were done and out of the theatre in 50 minutes. bravo. We then spent a thoroughly enjoyable evening in the pub, who had very kindly layed on a buffet that was filled with the most incredible array of breads and meats (mostly unidentifiable, mostly wrapped in pastry or breadcrumbs).

The company then had a couple of days off before the get in at the Pleasance in London. I think it was safe to say that we were all a bit unsure as to what a London audience would be like, as the contrast from rural village hall to London theatre was pretty huge. The company had developed a good sense of what the local audiences would respond to, but the question was, would a London audience have the same connection? Well, yes and no. They seemed to really embrace the world, and the humour, but found entirely different moments of connection to the local audiences;  much of the humour in the play comes from audience recognising familiar situations and characters, which differed according to geography; rural references of course meant more to a rural audience, whereas London references  resonated more with a London audience. I’m sure I am vastly over simplifying things here, but it was just quite interesting to see the play suddenly from the two different perspectives.

Anyway. We have a few more shows left and then it is farewell. Nick Warburton is coming to see it on our final night, with just a few friends, so it is set to be a warm and happy final show I think! And then onwards, to plan what happens next at Pentabus. Watch this space…….

Reviewed by Lynne Walker
Tuesday, 20 April 2010

Nearly eight years ago, as Independent readers will know, Brian Viner and his family left Crouch End for Docklow Grange, a Victorian manor in Hereford-shire. No-one forced them out of north London; it was merely a bad dose of what he drolly calls “metropause”. Out of this exodus came the column “Country Life” and a book, Tales of the Country. Viner – with a townie’s experience of country dwelling – found inspiration flowing even when the septic tank was blocked.

Now, on a tiny set and with a large bundle of props, a handful of costumes and a babble of sound effects, life chez Viner is vividly dramatised by the resourceful Pentabus Theatre. In which other venue except homely Shifnal Village Hall, by the way, could local produce on stage be supplemented by coffee and homemade cake for the audience?

Viner is given a plausible portrayal by Matthew Bates. Whether enduring the frosty silences and putdowns that Viner, a “bugger from off” encountered in the King’s Head or tending his magically sprouting magnolia, Bates brings Viner and his “twazzocky” humour to waggish life.

Sarah Stanley, as Viner’s wife, Jane, is just the sort of sparky character to complement Viner’s whimsical disposition. Embodying the pathos of exile to the country after much metropolitan soul-searching, Jane is the wife for whom the term “long-suffering” might have been coined. When she traps her foot in a heavy antique door the agony brings to the boil her frustration at their lack of money and excess of chicken shit.

A Year in Provence this is not but with such a sterling cast and so many comic vignettes there is plenty to engage the audience in Orla O’Loughlin’s smartly paced production. Claire Vousden’s role as Capable Woman takes her from middle-class Crouch Ender and church fête organiser to hilarious policeman. Particularly good as an aggressive dog-trainer and racist thug, as well as Owen, an inscrutable rustic with a touching tale to tell, Sean Carlsen shows his versatility. Iain Ridley is expected to play all three Viner children and 14 other roles – he does so with great enthusiasm.

The framework of Nick Warburton’s deft adaptation may be a fête at which the Viners preside over the white elephant stall, but this show is far from a load of old junk. It’s rather collectible, actually. Tales of the Country certainly won’t do the Viners’ rural break business any harm. Walkers intent on conquering Myarth or sitting atop Lord Hereford’s Knob will be queuing up to rent their cottages. And this despite the alarming prospect of finding the dodgy dice game “Hands, thighs and bottoms”, introduced by two happy-slappy holidaymakers, left alongside the welcome hamper. Not to mention the risk of being shagged by the dog.

Touring 16 May; Pleasance Theatre, London N7, (020 7609 1800) 11-16 May

Thursday, 15 April 2010

The world premiere of Tales of the Country – which, as I think I might have mentioned before, is a play based on the book inspired by my columns about moving out of London to rural Herefordshire – took place at the Severn Theatre in Shrewsbury last Thursday.

To get there in good time, Jane, the children and I took the 17.08 Arriva Trains Wales service from Leominster – which might not be how Agatha Christie arrived at the world premiere of The Mousetrap (just to pluck a random example of another stage adaptation of a book), but I bet she didn’t enjoy her evening half as much as we enjoyed ours.

Admittedly, Shrewsbury is not the West End, and Arriva Trains Wales is definitely not to be confused with a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce Phantom; but then Tales of the Country isn’t The Mousetrap. Mind you, I’m certain we’ve had more mice running amok in our house than Dame Agatha ever had in hers.

We were joined on the 17.08 by a gang of friends, and to make an occasion of it, took several bottles of champagne. Our mate Patrick had undertaken to provide nibbles, and took his duties very seriously, half-emptying the Marks & Spencer food hall in Hereford.

So, as there were too many of us to sit round the few tables that Arriva Trains Wales provide, I had to walk up and down the aisle, like a five-star trolley service, dispensing drinks, prawns, cocktail sausages and those hefty pieces of M&S sushi – only one of which rolled off my plastic tray and into the lap of a woman from Bridgend.

A party on a train brings out the best in people, as long as you’re inclusive about it. The woman from Bridgend had a sausage, and a man from Penarth – who happened to be sitting at a table with me, my friend Stewart the local chicken farmer, and Stewart’s wife Susie – had some crisps and champagne. I told him all about the play, and he told me all about the book he’s writing, a biography of John Venn, the 19th-century inventor of the Venn diagram.

For a while it was like a Radio 4 arts programme at our table, at least until Stewart told us his latest politically incorrect joke, about a bald man who goes into a pub with a parrot on his shoulder.

The journey was such good fun that some of us were actually quite disappointed when we arrived at Shrewsbury, but also a little bit excited, while some were more excited than disappointed, and others were wholly excited – the sort of situation that would have driven John Venn to his drawing-board.

Anyway, we walked to the theatre from the station in glorious late-afternoon sunshine, and had dinner in the Theatre Severn’s excellent restaurant, before it was finally time for curtains up.

I’d read the script and been to a couple of auditions, and Jane and I had met the final cast, but we hadn’t been to any rehearsals, and really didn’t have a clue what to expect. In truth, we were apprehensive. At least my book is my own account of our life in the country, whereas the script is the interpretation of Nick Warburton – to be sure a hugely experienced playwright, but I had wondered whether the self-deprecating tone of the book might, on stage, look like that of a man with plenty to be self-deprecating about.

However, as affectionate laughter rippled across the audience we began to relax; after just a few minutes it was clear that Nick and everyone at Pentabus had done a fantastic job, and the cast are superb. The company’s visionary artistic director, Orla, received almost 600 CVs when she advertised the auditions, which makes me shudder for young people – including my own daughter, Eleanor – wondering whether to pursue an acting career. The profession has never been more competitive. But choosing a company of five from 600 hopefuls at least means that you end up with some class acts.

Even class acts, though, need classy audiences. Since last Thursday the play has moved into village halls, where I’m told it has been wonderfully received. They seem to love a scene about poultry-fancying, in particular. But this is the country. How will the chickens go down at the Pleasance Theatre in Islington? That’s my new concern. Metropolitan readers can find out, let me insouciantly add, between May 11 and May 16.

Last week we tried our first ‘stagger through’ of the entire show with props and costume. I love this term, used for the initial attempt to run a play still in rehearsal. Actors are always nervous and a little vulnerable at this stage, like Edward Scissorhands looking forlornly at his Black and Decker digits and saying “I’m not finished!” Our handling of objects is about as adept as his - in fact it’s no coincidence that a ‘stagger through’ sounds like a cross between teaching an infant to walk and watching a drunk negotiate his way to the toilet. The results are very similar: limbs are flung about awkwardly, words spill out of us with little regard to the script or even the English language, and occasionally we find ourselves halfway through a scene with no idea how we got there, or why.

Fortunately, unlike an inebriate trying to make toast in a microwave, it gets better with practice. Soon we know roughly what’s happening when, with whom, and occasionally why – and that’s when we begin, during our many audience asides, actually addressing our director, associate director, stage manager, and whoever else has been dragged in to watch.

If there’s one rule onstage it’s that in a crowd of beaming faces your gaze will always land on the one who looks like you’ve just peed all over their daffodils… That face is all you see, and very quickly you can become paranoid, or if you’re a comedian, inappropriately aggressive. I’ve witnessed several very experienced stand-ups alienate an entire audience because they were fixated by the ‘wrong’ reaction of a punter in the back row – it’s a sensitivity that comics share with teachers and brutal military dictators. Anyway, as our lines are written for us, we just get quietly and hysterically neurotic, mouthing the words as our eyeline drifts up over their heads as we plan a swift exit before the Theatre Police SWAT team burst in through the windows with flash bangs and, presumably, a much funnier replacement cast.

It turns out that some people don’t constantly smile when they’re listening, others have faces that ‘just fall like that’ in repose, and talking to an imaginary audience eight feet above the real one doesn’t make them feel terribly involved. Other than that we’re pretty good shape, according to Orla. Ah well, you live and learn.

Of course, after four weeks it’s hard to find the same joke funny, but sometimes a new element will inject the fun back into proceedings. Brian Viner is a great storyteller, and does an excellent line in anecdotes with slightly smutty double entendres in his book. One of the true tales we recount is of a terribly straight academic couple who stayed in the holiday cottage and left behind their bedroom game dice with actions and body parts. In the play the faces read “Hands, thigh, bottom”, but the dice we use are less coy, and the first run with them last week resulted in Sarah and I speechless … Well, you try saying the word ‘stomach’ while the anatomical name for the male appendage stares at you in proud gold lettering, daring you to read it aloud.

First Night: From playing to an audience of five at Pentabus, we find ourselves in the capacious 250 seat Walker Studio at Theatre Severn in Shrewsbury. Seeing our little set on the floor is quite intimidating. This will be the largest venue on the tour, and it is sold out for the World Premiere. Yikes! We need to hit the ground running, or rather, the rostra – since a sightline issue required several hours rebuild by our tireless stage management and crew. How will a real audience respond, will they respond at all? Will they like the stage Brian? More to the point, will the real Brian (attending with the whole family) like his stage alter ego? As Capable Woman in the play would wisely say “Only time will tell, Mr Viner.”

In the event Nick, who adapted the book into the play, seemed very pleased with our efforts, which was a relief, as he and his wife had generously given us all wonderful first night gifts, as well as an edible farmyard of foam pigs and chocolate tractors. Then the man himself shook us firmly by the hand and professed himself really impressed. Jane and the kids were there too, apparently Sarah’s rendition of her swearing was absolutely spot on, and the kids were all remarkably at ease with yet another incarnation of their lives 8 years ago being played out. Iain, who plays all three children using indicative bits of costume, chatted to them about their reactions. The only one not completely taken with their doppelganger was Eleanor, and I have to say that in her place I wouldn’t be thrilled to be portrayed by an actor in his 20’s wearing a flowery hair band. Though to be fair, he did remove it for the after show drinks.

End of Week 1: Following Theatre Severn we played our smallest venue (57) at Clee St Margaret, and Clun. Both venues were packed to the rafters with a warm audience, vindicating the decision to take this show to the people rather than expecting them to drive to a central theatre, and in both our hosts made us very welcome and fed us some delicious homemade dinner (if soldiers march on their stomachs, actors perform on whatever free scraps of food they’re offered, and so far we’ve been spoiled rotten). Now all we have to do is take our portable marquee into the various village halls of the region and see how audiences there take to the stories of a ‘bugger from off’, and improve on our get-out time of dismantling and packing the set. With luck we won’t have Saturday’s setback again, when the sprinter van got stuck in the mud outside the hall and required 3 burly men (me, Iain and Simon the SM) plus the prop rope from the set to tow it out. It’s lucky that Sean, Iain and I had done a proper physical workout before the show. Incidentally, if anyone happened to see three grown men on a roundabout at about 6.30pm in the adventure playground at Clun, that’s what it was – the very serious process of an actor’s warm up….

Matthew Bates - Brian Viner in Tales of the Country