Review of 'The Maddening Rain'

'The Maddening Rain'

Written by Nicholas Pierpan

Directed by Matthew Dunster

Old Red Lion Theatre

31/08/2010 - 18/09/2010

*A darkly comedic look at the City’s final, pre-recession glory days.

Money is a game in Nicholas Pierpan’s new one man show ‘The Maddening Rain’, which tells the story of the economic crisis from the perspective of an unlikely ‘City boy’. Following its protagonist’s rise from disgruntled bank teller to financier on a £400,000 per year bonus, actor Felix Scott quips that the result of the recession was that ‘no one would lend us money to play with’. ‘It’s a big storm. It’s going to fuck things up for awhile. You’ve just got to ride it out and try to make some money while you do,’ are the sage words of his boss. Meanwhile, Felix Scott’s character does ride it out, he does make money, and in the process he readily betrays everyone in his path. The only distraction from accumulating wealth and status is an unlikely encounter with his teenage girlfriend, and what ensues as a result is the spark of his professional and personal ruin.

Felix Scott is engaging and likeable in his role, and he tackles head on the challenge of supporting the weight of the play squarely on his shoulders. Particularly in moments when he portrays his boss, Andy, he displays raw emotional intensity and vulnerability. Likewise, the tenderest moments come when his character is discussing feelings of isolation, and exploring the magnetic pull he feels to his former life and love. Humour is also well utilized, and Felix Scott has excellent timing where this is concerned.

The two main drawbacks for the production are its length and set design. With a runtime of just under 90 minutes, and without an interval, the piece struggles to maintain attention throughout. Although Nicholas Pierpan’s script is engaging, some consolidation would be appreciated in order to cut down on the duration. Secondly, Alison McDowall’s set is very appealing, but it does not serve Felix Scott well and is not practical for the Old Red Lion Theatre. The majority of the space is occupied with a replica of an office, which is accurate and useful in creating the environment, but which renders the large portion of the stage unusable. Felix Scott is left with only a very small amount of bare stage to play. Further complicating this problem is Matthew Dunster’s direction, which finds his actor standing centre stage for the bulk of the time, with his hands firmly in his pockets, while an unused set looms behind him. A set which is more interactive would add variation and visual interest and would allow Felix Scott an opportunity to explore more emotional levels. More importantly, it would give the piece some greatly needed variation.



As a side note, Nicholas Pierpan’s ending to ‘A Maddening Rain’ is well constructed and interesting, but it doesn’t fit with the progression of the rest of the text. The conclusion of the play, although well acted, left more questions than answers. Ultimately, this is a well acted piece with promise, and a few minor changes would go a long way towards improving it further.

Playing August 31st through September 18th at the Old Red Lion Theatre, London.  Review written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Review: http://www.fringereview.co.uk/.  3 Stars.

Homesick

Close your eyes tightly. Now think of ‘home’. Chances are that one distinct image rushes to your mind. For me, the idea of ‘home’ will forever be torn between two very different places. There is 'the home that chose me', and then there is 'the home that I chose'.


It’s strange how our memories consolidate with time. When I think of my grandmother, I think of her perfectly manicured, blood red fingernails. I think of picking strawberries that matched those nails, in her garden, on a warm summers’ evening. I remember her sundress rippling in the breeze as I clutched tightly to her steadying hand.


My memories of my childhood and of 'the home that chose me' are of waves on a clear blue lake, endless expanses of prairie that melt into the skyline, the shrill cries of tornado sirens, and my father’s classic toy car collection. I can still taste my mother’s pancakes and apple cider, can still hear the sound of my fingers descending on the keys of my piano, and can still feel that first, perfect kiss with the first, perfect boy I ever loved. I will always remember the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair as I sped down the highway in my blue Honda Accord (the one with the ‘Free Tibet’ bumper sticker that garnered more than a few curious looks).


My memories of 'the home that I chose' are no less precise. They include taxicab headlights glistening through the rain at Astor Place, Bryant Park covered by a blanket of fresh snow, Grand Central Station brimming with tension at rush hour, and the massive foyer in our apartment with its smooth wooden floors. I can still taste my favourite Venti-Earl Grey-Soy-Tea Misto with two unrefined cane sugars, can still hear the sound of fireworks over the East River on the Fourth of July, and can still feel that first, perfect kiss with the perfect man I married. I will always remember the feeling of sinking into our beige, down-filled sofa with geometrically patterned pillows (the one that cost well over a month’s salary and took even longer to pay off).

Seriously. . . I loved that sofa.

So why the sudden burst of nostalgia? A few weeks ago, I was speaking with a work colleague about New York. Unable to contain my excitement that he would soon be visiting 'the home that I chose', I stuttered inarticulately ‘you should really, really go to . . . uh . . . um... oh god, what was it called? It was on 6th… or was it 16th…?’ Disastrous, just 100%.

I never did remember either the name or the location of my mystery suggestion. Thinking back, I’m not even sure what I was trying to recommend. Was it a restaurant, perhaps, or a vintage clothing store? The fact is, I will never know at this rate. It's gone. Details that only 18 months ago were as real to me as my shoe size have now, inexplicably, disappeared from my mind. Memories from my childhood are even vaguer. They come in brief streaks of colour, sporadic flashes of true sensory overload. I remember my grandmother's nails, but not the sound of her voice. I am losing myself somehow, losing my history, and it completely terrifies me. I feel like an intruder in someone else's life, with a past that I can recite the details of but which I cannot personally recall.

For the first time in recent memory, I am desperately, nauseatingly homesick. Or at least I would be, if I could remember 'home' at all.  So I must try harder.  I must close my eyes more regularly and think of my 'homes'.

The London Theatre Talks 2010

The London Theatre Talks 2010: 'Banks are More Important to Society than Theatre'
London – The Phoenix Artist Club – 24 Aug – 19:00 (0:40)


As a stimulating addition to the London Fringe Festival, the historic Phoenix Artist Club in Soho hosted ‘The London Theatre Talks 2010’.


The talks were a series of panel discussions which featured prominent cultural experts in conversation about issues currently affecting the arts. On Tuesday, August 24th, the topic was: ‘Banks are More Important to Society than Theatre’.


The panel consisted of Nina Caplan, journalist and former Arts Editor of ‘Time Out‘, Shaun Hutchinson, the Editor of ‘New Black Magazine‘, and journalist and actor Ben Holland, who also used to work in the City. The talks were chaired by critic, journalist, and regular chair of the ‘Platform Talks’ at the National Theatre, Aleks Sierz.


In discussing the connection between theatres and banks, the panel paid particular attention to new theatrical works which dealt with the subject of corporate and economic corruption. Lucy Prebbles’ ‘Enron’ was a major point of discussion. Other topics focused on why theatre remains popular, what it should aim to achieve to be classed as successful, which of the two (theatre or banks) had brought society more honour throughout the course of history, and how the current economic crisis would impact the way that each does business going forward.


Thankfully, none of the panellists were biased in their responses and all were, as expected, articulate and well informed. In considering the talk prior to attending, I had feared that the ‘debate’ would in fact be a funding rally in response to the recent governmental cutbacks to the arts. While I obviously disagree with the arts-focused budget cuts, I was interested in hearing a balanced argument for both sides and was pleasantly surprised to find just that. The responses were well rounded and provided interesting insight into how we measure ‘success’ and ‘value’ in modern Britain.


As Shaun Hutchinson said, we go to the theatre to be inspired, entertained, to learn, and to seek answers about ourselves. Nina Caplan added that since the beginning of the financial crisis, the theatre has attempted to provide answers to the questions of what went wrong and why, while the banks have remained largely silent and insular. Likewise, Ben Holland pointed out that the visual medium of the theatre has provided an entertaining way for the general public to gain some understanding of a particularly complicated issue which is considered to be dull and dry. In this way, people have flocked to productions like ’Enron’ for answers, even when they are not specifically related to the topic of the global recession.


However, we have also constructed a society which is wholly reliant upon finance. Major financial institutions regularly back commercial theatrical productions, primarily on the West End, and because of this the relationship between the banks and theatres is incestuous. Still, one of the main differences between the two is their attitude towards profit. While banks are concerned only with their bottom lines, much of the theatre is actually loss-making. As funding cuts continue and with banks less likely to lend financial support to riskier artistic endeavours, the area of the theatre predicted by the panel to suffer the most was the Fringe. The conclusion of an interesting evening was that both financial institutions and artistic outlets are necessary in society. While I agree with that assertion, I know which of the two I prefer.


Panellists: Nina Caplan, Ben Holland, Shaun Hutchinson
Chair: Aleks Sierz
The London Theatre Talks 2010 were held August 24th and 25th at the Phoenix Artists Club in Soho. Review written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Report: http://www.fringereport.wordpress.com/. (c) Megan Hunter 2010

Creekside Artists at the Fringe

Creekside Artists at the Fringe
Seven Dials Club – 2 Aug to 18 Sept – 26 Aug – 11:00 – 21:00

The exhibition consists of 45 pieces by 14 separate artists. The works displayed are in three interconnecting rooms, on the walls surrounding the Seven Dials Club in Soho. Mediums range from oil on canvas, digital illustration and prints, charcoal and ink on paper, and spray paint on canvas among others. Throughout the dates of the exhibition, the Creekside Artists have teamed up with local musicians and poets, and have even featured a life-drawing event during the showings in order to create a multi-faceted artistic experience.

Necole Schmitz’s ‘Madonna of the Sorrows’ is 54 x 74 cm oil on paper. It is an inventive re-imagining of Renaissance paintings portraying the Virgin and infant Christ. In Necole Scmitz’s piece, a haggard and broken woman with sorrowful eyes clutches an expressionless child to her breast. In contrast to the perpetually glowing images of youth and beauty usually seen in this context, ‘Madonna of the Sorrows’ invokes feelings of pain and uncertainty.

Emma Louise Fenton’s ‘Not Again’ and ‘The Morale of the Story’ show brief insights to lives of modern, city-dwelling children. Both pieces have been created using digital illustration and are 156 x 110 cm. In ‘Not Again’, a small boy sits in his bedroom, surrounded by numerous forgotten gadgets, engrossed in a book while his mother scolds him from the doorway. In ‘The Morale of the Story’, the same boy stands amidst the technological clutter, his arms and legs sprouting branches as he morphs into a tree. By the window, an abandoned telescope focuses on the world outside, a bleak and grey urban landscape. They imply an increasing isolation from nature as we simultaneously yearn for it.

Paul Coombs’ ‘Why the Long Mask?’ is 30 x 24cm acrylic on canvas. It shows the dark visage of an unknown man covered in a white mask. The piece is both fascinating and very disturbing. It has the feel of a cold and degenerate sexuality together with mysteriousness, and is deeply unnerving.

Brenda Brown’s ‘Jazz’ is a colour burst of vitality against a dark backdrop. At 40 x 44 inches and in oil on canvas, red and vibrant yellow pop as the texture creates an interesting focal point. There is the impression of motion and sound together with a subtle hint of the curvature of a saxophone.

Victoria Trinder’s ‘By a Hairs Breadth’ and ‘JP’ are round, 120cm diameter creations in oil on board. They are gorgeous, fantasy like glimpses into a brightly vivid dream. Exotic flowers blend with a myriad of colours to create a stunning and wistful experience.
All of the art featured is the work of members of the Creekside Artists, a not-for-profit co-operative based in Deptford, which provides affordable studio space and a unique, creative community for artists working in all disciplines. The Creekside Artists hold Open Studio events three times each year, in June, September, and December.

Artists: Brenda Brown, Paul Coombs, Emma Louise Fenton, Alex Glen, Rachel Hale, Siobhan Keane, Henrietta Loades-Carter, Daryl Mohammed, Sofie Pinkett, Dave Ravenswood, Mat Rochford, Necole Schmitz, Victoria Trinder, Caz Underwood.

Showing at the Seven Dials Club 1 August through 18 September 2010. Written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Report: http://www.fringereport.wordpress.com/. (C) Megan Hunter 2010