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Post by Forrest on Mar 22, 2020 9:56:18 GMT
I was pretty shaken up on the evening the theatres in the UK started closing, and it led to me writing a blog post about it, which ended up being all about how and why I fell in love with theatre literally overnight. And that got me thinking how I'm possibly not the only one with such a story, and how I would just love to hear other people's.
So, as the title of the thread says, this is the place to talk about your 'transformative' theatre experiences: those that got you to fall in love with theatre and to never look back. And (of course) the reasons behind those experiences: was it a specific thing - a play that was so great you could not stop thinking about it, a really terrific actor or actress, someone's enchanting directing style, a particular thing you associated with an afternoon or evening when you saw a play... or something entirely different? I want to know all about it, and I hope you will be willing to share!
I have the feeling that I've already shared my story here a million times, through fragments, and you might already be tired of reading it (I wouldn't blame you!), but just to be fair and open the discussion, here it is in its summarised glory:
While planning a holiday in Bristol, for some reason I thought it would be fun to go to the theatre, and - incidentally - there was a play (a Shakespeare one - what could possibly be more apt?!) that was starting its run just a day or two before I was scheduled to travel home, in a small theatre which looked enchanting. So I got a ticket, and somehow got my friends to join, and we went out for what was supposed to be one of those evenings where you do dinner before, and drinks afterwards, and you say to yourself 'that was lovely', and you move on... Only that didn't quite work out for me.
I remember sitting in the third row of the stalls just a bit after the play had started, thinking to myself: 'I don't really know who this guy (the actor) is, or what all of this is, but it is the most beautiful, honest and mesmerising thing - and the most heartbreakingly gentle performance - I've ever seen.'
We went home that night, I travelled back to my country the next morning, and I spent the following days thinking and talking about little else than that play to everyone and anyone willing to listen. (I am lucky that my work colleagues, friends and family were so amused by my enthusiasm, that they didn't mind...)
It was as if I'd fallen head over heels in love, only not with a particular person, but with a theatre play.
And so after much deliberation with myself, I bought a plane ticket to Manchester (for a date almost exactly two months apart from that evening in Bristol), tickets to see that same play four nights in a row, and travelled back; and it was just as enchanting each night as I remembered it. (And then I got home and wrote my first theatre review, because I still had so much to say, which has been a small hobby I've taken up since.)
I don't really know what happened to me on that evening in Bristol, but it felt as if somehow it changed me as a person. That play was so heart-wrenching to me, that it managed to teach me a lesson on thoughtfulness, kindness and patience with others. And it definitely made me a theatre enthusiast!
The play was Headlong's 'Richard III'. The year was 2019. (I'm such a noob, I know!)
Now let's hear your stories!
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Post by BurlyBeaR on Mar 22, 2020 10:35:27 GMT
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Post by nick on Mar 22, 2020 11:40:53 GMT
How do you follow that?
My story is boring. I got into amateur theatrics at a young age and hung out at our local arts centre watching everything I could.
But I've been thinking about WHY I love it. It's something to do with the collective experience but there's more than that.
My favourite genres are dance, puppetry and mime so I think I enjoy the "theatrics" by which I mean it's a (sometimes big) step removed from real life. But then the best theatre is trying to say something about real life. Does that make sense?
It's a safe environment to experience love/hate/fear/anger/alienation etc. Things that really really matter.
I love spectacle and I'm a sucker for a good tune but, for me, the best theatre is a small group of people using all their talent to put across some aspect of our lives in an interesting way.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 22, 2020 12:23:03 GMT
I can't really put my finger on specific moments, because I started going as a child, but there was a winter when we saw 3 or 4 things in our local rep theatre in close succession. It was Theatr Gwynedd in Bangor (now gone). I was maybe 10 or 11, and I know we saw a production of A Child's Christmas in Wales (I already knew the Dylan Thomas reading) which was magical. I do remember being impressed that a bunch of grown ups with minimal props just BECAME children and firemen and old ladies, and that lights made it have snow and firelight and so on. We also saw a production of The Norman Conquests over 3 nights, which I remember finding very funny, and there was a production of On the Black Hill, which again had minimal stuff but was very moving (and I remember the actors ageing from small children to old men without changing anything about their actual appearance).
And I remember seeing a production of the Winter's Tale in Stratford around the same time - I remember nothing about the acting or the story, but I vividly remember that the court setting had everything white, including a giant polar bear skin rug on the floor. When the first bit finished, the whole back of the stage sunk down, taking the rug with it. Then later, the bearskin rug was lifted out of the pit, hauled up by it's paws and head so it looked like it was rearing up, it had red eyes and a big roar, and it then engulfed the poor actor who exits pursued by bear, and dragged him down into the pit.
I do remember loving those moments when something magical and transformational happens - an ordinary looking man becomes a 4 year old on Christmas day, or a rug becomes a live bear - and you gasp a bit at real magic before your eyes.
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Post by asfound on Mar 22, 2020 13:24:39 GMT
I'm afraid I don't have a cool story like yours but I'm also a relative newbie. I don't come from any kind of theatre or arts background but I've always loved cinema, especially of the surreal or macabre or gloomy kind. I had recently moved to London for uni and was just skim reading reviews in the Evening Standard and something caught my eye. Out of morbid curiosity I went by myself to see Katie Mitchell's production of Cleansed by Sarah Kane at the NT. Really knocked me back, I actually wanted to leave at one point out of what almost felt like panic but was near the front dead centre so had to stay. Anyway, in the end I was completely enthralled and disturbed by it, and straight away started looking for more. Over the next few months X and Victory Condition at the Royal Court, the Isabelle Huppert Phaedra at the Barbican, Fleabag, and Shopping and f***ing somewhere I can't recall sealed the deal.
Now I try to go and see something at least once a week, or I did before The Event. I can't actually believe it's only been 4 years or so, it really feels like I've been going all my life.
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Post by Forrest on Mar 22, 2020 14:14:17 GMT
It actually probably seems a bit silly written down. But I figured if anyone would be able to relate, it would be the people here... My story is boring. But I've been thinking about WHY I love it. It's something to do with the collective experience but there's more than that. My favourite genres are dance, puppetry and mime so I think I enjoy the "theatrics" by which I mean it's a (sometimes big) step removed from real life. But then the best theatre is trying to say something about real life. Does that make sense? It's a safe environment to experience love/hate/fear/anger/alienation etc. Things that really really matter. Not boring at all! I wish I was like you and that I'd caught the 'theatre bug' earlier in life. (I did go to the theatre before, but never felt passionate about it. It was just something I did as part of having a social life...) I love your observations about the 'safe environment' and theatre being best when it speaks about real life. I sometimes think I love it so much because it exposes me to emotions I am a bit afraid to allow myself to feel and embrace in real life. It's easy (although, it isn't) to love and sympathise and care for and be heartbroken for and be infuriated with and angry... with something you can only experience remotely, and hold onto in your memory. My best guess is that this was the main reason I fell so madly in love with the character in 'Richard III', and consequently with the play itself - I never felt so much emotion exposed in plain sight, that would normally be buried underneath a million layers of 'being fine' (or 'being evil' maybe, in this case, I don't know...) in everyday life, as I did in Tom Mothersdale's portrayal of that character. That character radiated everything - and made me confront myself and how I felt about it. Watching it each night felt like it required a lot of courage from me, as odd as that may seem. I do remember loving those moments when something magical and transformational happens - an ordinary looking man becomes a 4 year old on Christmas day, or a rug becomes a live bear - and you gasp a bit at real magic before your eyes. Oh, yes! I find that absolutely enchanting too! That's the other side to theatre: the endlessly joy-inducing one! :) Out of morbid curiosity I went by myself to see Katie Mitchell's production of Cleansed by Sarah Kane at the NT. I can't actually believe it's only been 4 years or so, it really feels like I've been going all my life. I've only seen a recording of 'Cleansed' but it knocked me back, or rather caught me by surprise, as well. I'd read the play beforehand, but I still wasn't prepared for it: can't imagine what being exposed to that in the front row must have felt like! That play takes me back to nick 's thought about the complexity of emotion it exposes us to as a reason to love theatre. It's just layer after layer after layer of it... conflicting, complicated and incredible. Also, yup - it's only been a year of intensively seeing theatre for me, and I feel like it's been all my life too... |
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Post by lynette on Mar 22, 2020 16:53:42 GMT
Great thread, ta Forrest.
I was always taken to theatre as a kid, to the plays at the Alex in Birmingham. I was sat at the end of a row, best stalls of course with my parents, had a box of chocs placed on my lap, and I was very happy. Then the pantos etc, meeting Lennie the Lion at the stage door, o joy of joys.
Then the big one: RSC prod of Richard III ( coincidence Forrest ...or not? ) at Stratford. I hesitate to give the date but it was 1964. I was still a mere child of course. I can't explain exactly what went on in my head but I remember thinking I want some of THAT.
Lots of drama, at school, Uni and teaching. Then I met someone who felt exactly the same as I do and we have spent all our pocket money plus some on the theatre ever since.
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Post by Jan on Mar 22, 2020 17:20:50 GMT
Not sure. But the first thing I remember seeing was Alastair Sim playing Darling/Hook in Peter Pan. Imagine that. Maybe that explains it.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 22, 2020 18:56:29 GMT
To be fair, that Headlong Richard III was really good (and Richard III is a really good play anyway). I loved the battle where he was the only one on stage, with mirrors and mud making it special.
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Post by tonyloco on Mar 22, 2020 19:31:39 GMT
I wasn't going to post on this thread but Xanady on the 'Happiest musical memories' thread has invited me to continue with my recollections so....
OK. Here's the view from the other end of the telescope. As I recently related on another thread I have been going to the theatre for more than 70 years and it still remains a unique and magical experience....well, most of the time!
I have talked about the first musicals I saw in Sydney, with Annie Get Your Gun as the clincher in 1947/48.
As for plays, I realised early on since I was about 10 or 11 that I loved the theatre in all its forms. I had seen the so-called 'West End' comedies that were regularly toured in Australia (Worm's Eye View and Sailor Beware! were examples) but they were frivolous lightweight vehicles for comic actors and made little impression on me. I have also spoken about how I enjoyed seeing Robert Helpmann and Katherine Hepburn in 1955 leading a company from the Old Vic playing The Taming of the Shrew, Measure for Measure and The Merchant of Venice, but they were more occasions to see legendary film stars on stage in very lavish productions that were more celebrity occasions than great performances of the plays, although those two stars were no slouches when it came to acting.
I had also seen that excellent Australian play The Summer of the Seventh Doll as well as Judith Anderson in Medea, and various other things in the small professional theatres around Sydney. And I recall a wonderful production in 1958 of The Chalk Garden with Dame Sybil Thorndyke and Sir Lewis Casson that was funny and moving and totally brilliant, as indeed was the revival at the Donmar a few years ago.
But the play that I saw in June 1959 that really showed me how powerful theatre could be was Long Day's Journey into Night, with a cast of Australia's leading actors including Ron Haddrick, Dinah Shearing and Frank Waters. The laying bare of the raw emotions of the Tyrone family was a harrowing experience and none of the productions I have seen more recently in London have seemed as good.
And as an extra bonus, after the performance my colleague from Sydney University, Clive James, walked back with me the 20 minutes or so from the suburban Elizabethan Theatre in Newtown to the transport hub at Railway Square. Clive, who was already a very bright and well-informed young man, discussed the play in detail with me and especially alerted me to the poetry quotations in the last act which, sadly, are generally cut from modern productions to reduce the running time.
The O'Neill play certainly consolidated my love of straight theatre, but I have to admit that I have had similar 'Road to Damascus' moments as regards opera, ballet and symphony concerts so I guess I just subscribe to the dictum that there's no business like show business!
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Post by sfsusan on Mar 22, 2020 21:02:14 GMT
I sometimes think I love it so much because it exposes me to emotions I am a bit afraid to allow myself to feel and embrace in real life. It's easy (although, it isn't) to love and sympathise and care for and be heartbroken for and be infuriated with and angry... with something you can only experience remotely, and hold onto in your memory. This is a lovely description of the appeal of theater! I came to theater through the written word. Words, in any form, are so powerful for me, and to see words embodied on the stage rather than on the page was magic. But theater is more than words, which I discovered in college, with "Wait Until Dark". It was scary and engrossing and I was curled up with my feet on the back of the seat in front of me (yeah, I didn't know any better then, sorry). In the scene where the heroine thinks she's safe but the bad guy attacks again, the actor launched himself from the wings to center stage, airborne, almost flat, Superman-style. I jumped so hard, it's a good thing there was nobody in that seat in front of me, or I would have launched them like an ejector seat. But it was real. Sitting in the dark, with other people, I was living that experience. I've lived hundreds of experiences since then and hope to live hundreds more. |
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Post by Forrest on Mar 22, 2020 22:15:46 GMT
Then the big one: RSC prod of Richard III ( coincidence Forrest ...or not? ) at Stratford. I am prone to conclude that might just be more than a coincidence... Maybe there is something special about 'Richard III'. To be fair, that Headlong Richard III was really good (and Richard III is a really good play anyway). I loved the battle where he was the only one on stage, with mirrors and mud making it special. I think my absolutely favourite part was the "What do I fear? Myself?" monologue, when he spoke to himself reflected in the mirrors. (Although the battle scene was amazing, too - that was perhaps the most imaginative part of the whole play.) I still think that monologue (especially the part of it that Mothersdale kind of sang/hummed), and the final scene just seconds before the lights turned off, when he stood up with his back to the audience, after being left alone on the battlefield, abandoned even by the ghost of Henry VI, are the saddest things I've ever seen at the theatre. |
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Post by maggiem on Mar 26, 2020 12:14:58 GMT
I loved going to the Pantos in Manchester when I was a child. Coach full of kids and parents, and a late evening out! In my mid teens, I saw Shakespeare at Stratford (1981/82) and later on, went to Plymouth Theatre Royal fairly regularly while studying for my degree (1987-1990).
After that there was 4 years of London theatre when I worked in Romford. I enjoyed watching performances at the Barbican by actors who have become much bigger names since (Ciaran Hinds, Anton Lesser). The one that I thought about recently was The Alchemist, as one cast member was Richard Bonneville... what ever happened to him?
I did see some of the big musicals, but I really wanted to see plays, especially the titles that I'd heard of years before but never seen, so it was The Miracle Worker and Rope at Richmond Theatre, les Enfants Terrible and Trelawney of the Wells at the National Theatre, etc...
In 1994 I quit my job and moved back (dole/back to college/part time library work), and that was the end of my theatregoing (plenty of movies though!)until about 2006. It started again with NYC and Boston to see Victor Garber in Of Thee I Sing and Present Laughter. Ever since, I have been going back to Stratford and London fairly regularly, the Lowry and the Royal Exchange, plus other theatres if I can get there and back in a day.
The pull of theatre has never left me. The live experience and sharing it with an audience is something that everyone should be able to have.
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