SMOCK ALLEY... a preview

Still trying to pull all the pieces together to ensure that my play about George Farquhar, bawdy n bold as it is, gets on to the stage in Smock Alley next year.

The idea is that it will rehearse in Dublin, most likely, with Stephen Bradley in the lead - he was born to play this part. It will premiere in Derry in September 2013 as part of their UK City of Culture, as the lead play of a second Farquhar Festival produced by Jonathon Burgess. Then, the idea is for it to come to Dublin for a month to Smock.

After all, it's the theatre that gave George his best anecdote - and possibly his most embarrassing and traumatic story, one I don't believe he would ever have revelled in telling. It's the 'ghost in the machine' if you like and the reason he became a writer.

This was the occasion when, while acting on the Smock Alley stage at the tail end of the 17th century, he accidentally stabbed a fellow actor with a sword having forgotten to switch it for a foil. The actor, price, did survive and acted again but, fortunately for everyone who likes George Farquhar's work, it was, essentially, the end of his career as an actor.

The perils of bad language

According to my daughter, I used a lot of inappropriate language in this poster (see right panel). Still made her stand underneath it for a pic though!

The UpStart campaign, of which this was just one of hundreds of posters, was a wonderful one to be part of. Everywhere you looked in Dublin, you could come across a piece of writing or a piece of art, all of them stimulating and/ or intriguing. You can see them all at http://upstart.ie/

A bit of background. We were allowed around 122 characters and if accepted, we became part of a campaign comprising some 500 writers andvisual artists, with work reproduced on boards around Dublin that were the same size and shape as election posters and in the same places. It was a way of saying, as loud as we can, that art is part of our lives. It's not a luxury. It's part of the air we breath and the water we drink and we need it, especially now.

My offering came from my play A FRESH GALE AND COLD CHICKEN about the life of George Farquhar.

But the election is over now so they all have to come down. I believe they'll be auctioning all the posters off to pay for campaign costs, and also putting together a night in which actors will read the written works, while the images will be projected on screen.

A momentous meeting...

Yesterday afternoon. 2.30 pm. The sun is shining outside but I am sitting at a table in a dim theatre with two of Dublin's impresarios as we hammer out how we are going to collaborate to get my play on stage in this space.

The walls around us date back to the 17th Century in parts. There are tables behind littered with books that feature this space in its heyday, that mention the subject of my play, George Farquhar, as he trod the boards - escaping from his very deadly Divinity degree in Trinity College, Dublin - back in 1696/7.

There are weary stretches of boards from the original stage, bits of plasterwork, the alcove above us - filled in at a later stage - is where the sets were pulled from for the vast repertoire of plays the theatre staged. There are oyster shells - apparently the snack of choice in restoration theatre. And there are the open plans for how it will look when it has been made ready for an audience of 240+ next Spring - and it will look magnificent. This is Smock Alley Theatre, the oldest and most historic theatre in the city, and it is coming to life.

There is a fantastic array of skills being brought to the table to ensure that my play is staged and staged phenomenally and imaginatively. It's the most exciting time, when so much energy is spilling in the right direction. A photo is taken to mark the occasion.

And to think, I almost didn't write it.

An Interesting and Fruitful Week...

I have agreed a director and production company for my play, A Fresh Gale and Cold Chicken. He is as passionate about it as I am, very experienced as an imaginative director and determined to make it happen.

We're talking next Spring. For the launch of Smock Alley theatre. Fingers crossed, toes too... all we need now is money!

My daughter and I saw the first episode of Punky too, last Tuesday. It's lovely, really beautiful and sweet and will be a fantastic series. They were finishing voice recordings on the first six this week, and the pre-publicity will begin to roll soon. The publicity that says, "yes, it is happening. Watch this space!". Exciting.

Unfortunately, this week we also buried the last of my father's sisters, and the most colourful of all that generation in our family. I didn't know her well, being at the tail end of my family, but I grew up hearing stories about her. A party animal,who lived life to the full, she could jitterbug in a way that emptied dance floors - y'know, the over the head, spun around her partner's body, flung under the legs and up again... it sounds tiring just writing it! She also had, and this is a phrase her son used, "a voice that could cut hedges"... which I thought was wonderful!

But I also discovered my father's other sister, who died a month ago, was a doyenne of high society and something of a fashion icon in Ireland in the late 40s and fifties, written about in society columns here and abroad. She was one of Ireland's first real businesswomen, running the travel information bureau in Brown Thomas'.

I knew her as a talented artist whose nail varnish always matched her shoes, who grew smaller and smaller like a little delicate bird over recent years.

As I said, an interesting week!

Interesting Times...

From feeling quite flat after that period of major productivity, things are looking up again. Next Tuesday, I see the rough cut of the first episode of my animation series, PUNKY, animated by Monster Animation under the directorial hand of Jason Tammemagi.

How many series are being made, in reality, in Ireland this year? To have one doing just that, thanks for the tenacity of the producer Gerard O'Rourke, is phenomenal and I can't wait.

On Wednesday, I get to see my latest great-nephew - my tenth great niece or nephew! (Scary, but true!) And on Thursday, I meet the director/ producer interested in putting my play - A Fresh Gale and Cold Chicken - into production next year. I had been told he required chasing; he himself told me to "hound him" and yet he was the one who made first contact looking for an early opportunity to meet. Which feels fantastic.

So I'm all spurred on again, juggling the different projects in my head that I want to get my teeth back into and thinking about my next play. There are a few I had to put on the back burner but are any of them the right one now? Would I be better coming up with something utterly new that captures the energy of this latest one? Or a children's play? Or a comedy?

I want to write so many things! Where is the time, and what should I really focus on?!

I can list at least five projects I really, really want to get back to.

Meanwhile, my daughter only wants me to play Littlest Pet Shop. We have worlds laid out in the sitting room with doll's house furniture, even if upside-down tables are doubling as beds, and each of us has a business. Mine is a book-store, hers is a magical park that covers a table, a shelf and a stool.

I've sneaked out to the office on the premise of collecting a new range of books for my characters - one hamster, one bird, two cats - to sell to hers. So long as I keep creating little books, I get to write a little more...

Nope, the idyll is over. She has informed me that my book-store is too full of books and it's time to take up the reins again. Sob!

School's back on September 1st.

George Farquhar is In The Building...

"... Up, all of you. I want to see the whites of your eyes and sense the swell and heave of your bosums as the play dances around you. Smell the underarm sweat. Inhale the odour of horse dung walked in through the muddy cobbles, mixed with the lethargy of bare arms and the whore-making scent of excitement and desire..."

And so George Farquhar returned to Smock Alley Theatre in the flesh (of actor Stephen Bradley) for the first time in 305 years.

A wonderful audience, exceptionally positive - yup, I was floating, just a little; how often do writers hear their work commended by their peers?! - and insightful feedback and, in the end, that wonderful electricity only theatre can create.

Next stop? A full production! From what happened yesterday, just at a reading, I know it will happen. It has to!

Countdown to Resurrection...

... of George Farquhar, playwright, lover and actor. Words by me, performance by Stephen Bradley, the Derry-born actor.

The reading of A Fresh Gale and Cold Chicken happens this Sunday at 5pm sharp in Smock Alley - The Boy's School for those of you who want to come.

I'm getting nervous now, but the excited sort, which is good. It's a return to my first love as a writer and it seems the stage and I have been apart far too long, by virtue of me getting lured into the sinewy world of TV/ film scriptwriting.

In 1997, Trade Me A Dream ran for two weeks in the Focus Theatre, which has just reopened. In addition, a reading of Fur Doesn't Hurt took place with Andrew Bennett in the lead role in The Abbey before winning at the Cork Arts Theatre festival later that year - as had Trade Me... in '96. 13 years is a long time. We will make it an evening to remember!

For those of you coming along, we'll see you there. If you're early, there's a lovely coffee shop just opposite the entrance called Piccolo's. Great coffee.

x

A Fresh Gale and Cold Chicken: The reading

We have a date, tied down, for the rehearsed reading of my new stage play about George Farquhar: Sunday 27th June, 5pm in Smock Alley/The Boy's Theatre.

There’s a fantastic atmosphere in the space but what adds to the magic of the event is that we are bring Farquhar to life again a few steps away from the main theatre in Smock Alley, where he himself performed in 1696/7 and 1705.

The Boys' School is a really interesting space, for those of you who haven't seen it yet. For the reading, there will be just 45 seats, plus standing room at the surrounding balcony – you’ll understand when you get there - so if you want to come, and it's free, can you let me know? It should be an evening of pure theatre, dramatic, powerful, emotional and entertaining!

The reading will run about 75 minutes – which means I managed to cut out about 8,000 words - with a chance for feedback and a glass of wine afterwards.

We hung out in the space yesterday, to see how the script would work. We blocked out some of the scenes – not too much, it is a rehearsed reading – but it’s a shame to waste the very unique space.

Best of all, when everyone had gone, I sounded out some of the scenes myself standing on a church pew, on a table, on the stage and it was pretty powerful stuff. Possibly one of the very few times I’ve ever wished I was a man, so that I could perform it.

A Fresh Gale and Cold Chicken: on cuts and motivational deadlines

Met with Patrick Sutton of Smock Alley Theatre today and we’ve settled, provisionally, on the week of June 21st to hold the rehearsed reading of my play on Farquhar in The Boy’s School, Smock Alley. It’s a fantastic and unusual venue; a version of theatre in the round where the viewing area is a ramp that ascends around the space several times. It almost feels as if you’re observing a play from the terraces of a tenement building in the 17th century.

Smock Alley is where Farquhar performed before he went on to become the most popular Restoration playwright based in London. It’s also where he nearly stabbed a fellow actor to death on stage but more of that on the night!

Since arranging last week to meet Patrick, I’ve re-written the first act, based on our at-home reading in March. It’s fantastic to be back under its 17th century skin, to be bawdy and bold as well as poignant and witty! Oh and keep the narrative and all the threads flowing freely.

Of course, when I type it all into the computer, some of it will work and some of it will be far less exciting than it appeared when I was scribbling in the margins, but it’s good to have something tangible to put in. Deadlines are fantastic, if occasionally vicious, motivators.

I have agreed to cut the play down from a full length one-man show (we were aiming to follow Simon Callow’s footsteps with his Dickens show) to one hour 15 max. A tall order, but then haven’t I spent the last month crafting seven minutes scripts?!

In some ways, it feels really refreshing. I have been given the freedom to cut everything that isn’t essential, gripping and entertaining... But then I haven’t sat down to try and do this yet, so the pain threshold hasn’t yet been breached.

Since I have a gut feeling the script currently runs close to 100 mins... this means cutting at least 25%. I put the expected pain on a par with the extraction of one, possibly two wisdom teeth and the squashing of seven particularly healthy and shiny cockroaches with my bare feet on a tiled floor in the dark.

It may be a case of keeping two drafts so I don’t feel I’m abandoning favourite sections or speeches. I’m just putting them aside.

But I can’t wait to start. I’ve had a chat with Pettigrew, the Creature of Small Stature, Minimal Dialogue and Varicoloured Shell. She has agreed to assist. The idea is I place her on the script and she’ll mark what needs to go with a gentle slime trail.

Cold Chicken etc, The Farquhar Play part two

We read through the second act of Cold Chicken and a Fresh Gale this afternoon. Lovely experience, far more fun, the momentum really beginning to build up under the script as we moved towards finishing what is the first full read through of the script.

It felt pretty emotional, because the character, George Farquhar, does live and breathe and suffer and laugh and it feels like I've always known this man, even though he died in 1707. I can see it coming together and dancing about the stage. I can feel that hunger to bring it alive, as does Stephen who talks of 'when' we stage it, rather than 'if'.

I've started to be more hands on in suggesting how I imagine sections or speeches or scenes might run and really enjoying it. It's more than 20 years since I directed a play and there's a little itch in the palm of my hands to start moving and blocking this out, to play with various ways of using the audience and the character and the props...

I won't be the director when it heads onto stage but for this reading, it's just Stephen and myself so I can bring whatever I can to the table. Some of it will work and some won't but at this stage, he is still a character I have created. I must know him better than anyone else!

But what is great about working like this with Stephen is that he brings a huge amount of emotion and understanding of the character to the lines I've written. And if there are parts I comment upon, by the time I have clarified or elaborated on some part of it, and sometimes as much for myself as for the interpretation of the script, I can see what's missing on the page. It might be as simple as a bit of clarification, a single stage direction, the addition of a 'beat' that adds weight to what come next or what came before or some way to bring out what lies buried under the words.

I think it was Scott Fitzgerald who said 90% of writing is swimming underwater.

But isn't it fantastic when you come up for air and discover how far you've gone - and see how interesting the scenery has become!

But what also becomes clear, from reading it like this, scene by scene, is whether the momentum and the pace work; if the character progresses in the way I want him to for maximum emotional and dramatic effect. Sometimes characters run before they should be walking or forget how to walk when I want them to be able to run in two scenes time.

Now I have the opportunity to digest the lessons of the read through and, having tested the script, to take the play apart in safety, experiment, brainstorm, love it a little more, try not to throw out stuff that will work with the stuff that just isn't good enough, and then put the limbs back in place.

So I'm putting the script aside to let it all germinate. Just for a little bit. Like I'm giving George a chance to drink a few flagons of wine and slumber. He worked hard this afternoon!

Cold Chicken and a Fresh Gale

We had the first read through on Monday afternoon of the first draft of my new play, Cold Chicken and A fresh Gale. It's a one man piece, full-length, and the actor is Stephen Bradley from Derry, whose currently acting in Hamlet in the Helix. The idea is to run a Rehearsed Reading in Smock Alley in late April/ early May.

It's a strange experience hearing a play read aloud for the first time. Sometimes, as the writer, you feel an itch to grab it from the actors and read it yourself. You know the voice, the nuances, the tone. Sometimes the actors just do not sound as you imagined. They don't catch the meaning you intended in certain lines, they read too fast or too slow, they make funny bits sound onerous and fly through the thoughtful bits with a levity they don't deserve.

But you re-tune your expectations, appreciate the knowledge they are bringing to it as performers and the knowledge you gain from hearing it read. Sometimes, when they hear what you intended, a piece that wasn't working suddenly does.

So, if nuances are missed, if the tone or the language is misinterpreted, if parts feel slow and faded, maybe it's the writing that's at fault because, at this point, that's all you are in charge of. And if the actors are not ultimately going to perform the piece, they are doing it so you can hear the words and find the parts that work and the parts that don't. It's a huge honour.

Fortunately, this was one of the good experiences. Stephen hails from Derry, as did my subject, the restoration playwright George Farquhar (The Recruiting Officer). He has always felt a deep affinity for him and therefore brings genuine passion to the script. He wants to inhabit this man's skin and bones, if only for a couple of hours a night.

I sit at the head of the table - oh, such authority! - and read the directions. We stop after every scene and talk it through. To run through one act of the play takes nearly 2 hours. We end up shattered but exhilarated because we feel it works, mostly.

I know things are going well when I sit waiting for the play to continue and forget that I'm meant to be reading the directions; I forget I'm in my kitchen and the heaters have just gone off.

It was fascinating to hear the dialogue read in the accent that Farquhar would have had. I actually have no recollection of writing some of this play - this draft goes back over a year - but whoever wrote it, at certain moments, was a hell of a writer!

But there were parts that lacked energy, scenes that seemed overlong, blocks of dialogue that gave information too easily or simply weren't entertaining enough. The opening scene worked fine in my head, but read now, it feels too slow to start the play with. Some scenes make me want to sing because they sound and feel glorious; others need fine tuning, or to have a bit of fun injected into them although possibly not if we were to use the audience actively.

So there is work to be done.

Some of the parts that didn't work can be put down to the fact that we were sitting at a table and it was the first complete read through. Once you stand a play up and move it around, once you can direct the actor and really work with a script, you can explore the underbelly of each scene, each fragment of speech; you find the nuances and humour and colour that will make the script leap into life.

The great thing is that now I have a voice to work with, and a provisional date by which we need to have it prepared for an audience of our theatrical peers.

So I want it all to leap off the page. No matter who reads it.