An enormous apology. I had fully intended to document the final few days leading up to the performance itself, but each time I was simply so exhausted that it was left to the next day… So that is three rehearsals and a performance, all combined into one post.
Day one – Sunday. This was a combination of rehearsal and social occasion, but even though it was beset by withdrawals, and meant that in fact only Hamed, Davood and Roji (the three wise men from the east) were able to attend, it was a thoroughly successful occasion in both respects. I collected Roji from the station, him coming down from Sheffield and joining us in person for the first time in many weeks. So inevitably we focused on him, and his scenes, in particular the physical aspects, all played out in our garden. And all the more pleasant for all that; it was a beautiful day.
Work done, and time for play. Some booze (for everyone except Hamed the driver); a barbecue; even a game of doubles tennis, with me and Roji seeing off Hamed and Davood. The only down side was that when we weren’t rehearsing, drinking, eating, playing, all three of them were on their phones, poring over the news: their country is under attack.
Day two – Monday. Actually a very mixed day. It began extremely well. We were at the O2 on the Finchley Road, our venue on Wednesday, and had the task of covering the enormous picture window which looks out onto the street, mostly to block out the distracting view, immediately behind the actors, partly to create some sort of blackout. Not very successfully, it has to be said, since the sun was very powerful, but actually we were very pleased with it; it is remarkable how well brown paper packaging does the job.
And then Sam arrived – Sam Alexander, a friend and ex-student of Thame Youth Theatre, and a professional actor – first to run through each of his scenes with Hamed, then to participate in a full run-through with the rest of the cast. He was astonishingly good, immediately picking up on the idea that this was not really to be acted – it has to be understated and natural in order to work.
The one downside of the day was that I had a serious falling-out with Davood. It was entirely my own fault. Most of the time, I am calm and controlled in the rehearsal studio, but the closer we get to performance, I can become very impatient. And I can shout. And since I have a very loud voice, this can be quite impactful. Davood does not present as someone who is damaged, but inevitably his experiences mean that he has been through some difficult circumstances, and, he told me, suffers from PTSD; in particular, he does not react well to shouting. Not that I knew this at the time; I could see that he was desperately quiet in the rehearsal, and ag the end asked him if he was angry with me. “A little bit,” he said, and explained why. I was, of course, mortified, and apologised as profusely as I could, but it certainly threw a dampener over the rehearsal.
Day three. Back to the O2 again, for our dress rehearsal. Some slight confusion that Rm 7 (the name of our venue) was double-booked, that there was an art class in the first room one enters (and through which you have to walk to reach our performance space.) It was, as ever, a failure in communication between us and O2, but fortunately the art teacher was most sympathetic and accommodating, so fortunately it was not an issue.
The dress rehearsal went much as dress rehearsals tend to do, which is pretty ropey… which doe tend to augur well for a decent performance. And Davood, after testing the water and making his point by being the last to arrive, was absolutely fine from that point on. It was bakingly hot today, which did not help, and meant that all of us were exhausted by the end. But a pretty good exhaustion; we had reached the end of rehearsals, and were (almost) ready to perform. One of my favourite quotes is that works of art are not finished but abandoned, and we have certainly abandoned ours a bit early – we are massively under-rehearsed.
Day four – PERFORMANCE! Hamed and I arrived early to finally set up the space. In the absence of any stage lighting, I dug out from our loft some right inspection lamps. One of them had blown yesterday, but fortunately I had a spare, and that was rigged. And somewhat remarkably, they worked astonishingly well, shining up from the ground, and casting dramatic shadows – true footlights.
We were joining in with other events at the centre: an art and craft class, a couple of exhibitions, some music, a debate, but I was only able to get to some of it, for we still had some rehearsing to do. In particular, I wanted to focus on transitions, moving from one scene to the next as slickly, and quickly, as possible.
Which brought us to the performance itself. Because of the nature of the play, our production had decided, in true Brechtian style, on a very spare approach, acknowledging that this was a performance, acknowledging the audience. We were all out on display as the audience came in, and could mingle and chat freely. Even when we began, there was a deliberate joining of actors and audience, that we were all participants in the same experience, in the same room, blurring those moments when the person becomes the actor, and then the actor becomes the character (while Hamed, of course, was all three all the time.
The room was completely packed – it did not help that the air-conditioning, turned on for the first time, dripped water right into the middle of the audience. But not only was every seat taken, it would not be possible to squeeze anyone else into the room.
As for the performance, it was certainly not perfect. Lots of lines went round and round (including my own in the one scene I have had to learn!), and it was not always as clear, vocally, as it might be. And I cannot really give a proper appraisal, because I was in it. But suffice it to say the audience loved it, with Hamed reducing many of them to tears.
And afterwards, there was a hugely positive audience feedback with the general consensus being that it has to be seen again, and by a wider audience. (And we are not must talking about the performance on Friday.) So that will be the intention – to get Hamed to complete the play (all the way to England), to rehearse again , and to find a theatre in order to give it a proper run.
Congratulations! I hope it gets to a much larger theater. More people need to know what refugees go through to get to safety. And now, I suppose, you’re off to India…to me, it would seem almost like a let-down, after such a couragous presentation.