Meet you behind the bike-shed.

A Performance

What a performance.

A one man show at Guildford this week of ‘Under Milk Wood’ – all 69 characters, each always with his or her own voice and character. Just two props – a chair and a pair of ‘Stevie Wonder ‘ shades for Captain Cat. Just one break, otherwise a continuous, swirling, enveloping word-portrait of Llareggub waking, stretching, gossiping, drinking, leaning on a wall, falling asleep on a tomb-stone…

Afterwards, waiting for the last 53, perhaps another performance in ‘The White House’ pub (good HSB). The pub singer looked like a young Hendrix – tie-dyed narrow hipster trousers, the look, a white sheepskin rug stretched out theatrically as his stage, a red hat at one side, a red feather boa wrapped round a mike stand… but… plain vanilla music, that could have been any average singer. Props do not a performance make.

God, but I love good theatre, yet hate going on my own now. It doesn’t really make sense as you just listen anyway, but who said the world makes sense, eh? My first visit was around 1971 to a modern ‘theatre in the round’ in Newcastle and it was spell-binding – ‘Play Strindberg’. Of course what I didn’t know was I was lucky to hit on a spell where the local director was talented and imaginative. Hooked, I saw ‘Oh What A Lovely War’ where the cast played WW1 songs round the piano outside in the bar before the performance, ‘Rosencrantz and Guildenstern’ where they were in full colour, but the cast of Hamlet processed across the stage in monochrome when they made their fleeting appearances, and more, several more wonderful nights… such style… such performances.

Life is a stage, wise men have said. Are we all performers? What is truth and what performing? Is this blog a stage? Am I entertaining and performing, or just reflecting my thoughts in a mirror… in a mirror… in a mirror… Words washed up on Llareggub’s shore. It means buggerall – it’s all backwards in a mirror...

Guildford has 4 theatres! Four times blessed! If only the audiences weren’t so old – who will be going in 20 years? I took my son to Aykbourn’s Stephen Joseph Theatre in Scarborough when he was only 9 or 10 – and he was on the edge of his seat, his eyes ‘on stalks’ throughout. And bless the actor who saw that and gave him his very own smile and wave at the curtain call – what a performer! Take your children… take your grandchildren… the performance must go on…