The calm before the (second) storm

The whole process was demanding, enthralling, fascinating and a whole ream of other adjectives that I could exhaust to their full extent in an attempt to encapsulate the truly unbelievable experience I was lucky enough to have. I’ve made friends for life, built a lifetime connection with Glasgow, learnt so much about the value of community theatre and how it can change lives, and most definitely had my life changed in one way or other.

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Last time I spoke (or rather wrote) was when, as a company we were right in the heart of rehearsals. It seems an absolute decade ago. At the time, we were struggling to find a collective way to present a complex story, whilst distinguishing between what it was to be a community member and what it was to be a National Youth Theatre member. As we learnt later on, there was no real distinction. We fed off of each other in entirely different ways. There is so much to be said for not necessarily receiving formal training, but building off of what you are naturally given. Encased in those brick walls, for those three weeks was an unprecedented amount of talent. Even now, when I think back to the journey we had in Glasgow, or indeed look into my journal, it’s incredibly difficult to recollect all that we did in those three weeks. The second two went inextricably fast.

After only being back in the country for four days, I’m clink-clunking along another train track on my way to another part of the country. It does have to be said that upon arriving home on Sunday I was astounded and re-awakened to the sheer beauty of Cumbria on a bright and crisp afternoon. It really doesn’t compare to anywhere else I have journeyed to in the past year on various theatrical endeavours. That aside, I definitely need to update you all on the progress of the phenomenon that was the ‘Ghost Office.’

My last blog finished at the end of the research and development process. The changes had been made, the script finalised and the play cast. The latter wasn’t a problem in the grand scheme of things. We were informed from the beginning that the focus of the project was on the ensemble and how they work as a chorus, rather than on the principle parts. This is a philosophy that the National Youth Theatre values itself on. They are merely there to guide the audience and provide a coherent storyline. Following those decisions, it was the responsibility of the company to devise and collect the processes and techniques we’d developed to create believable printer characters. However, it is worth me explaining the main body of the storyline. Katy is a 30 year old woman living in London with her boyfriend John. They’re currently experiencing relationship difficulties and Katy has just been made redundant; an issue that ignites an interest into her mother, Patricia Bailey’s past as an editor at the Herald. Katy moved from Glasgow and knows little of her parentage and wants to know more about her father. Whilst online she finds George, whom she travels to Glasgow to meet. George was the best friend of William, Patricia Bailey’s father, who tragically died in a boating accident. No-one really knows what happened in the boat whilst on holiday in Girvane, but Mary, Katy’s Grandma still blames George entirely. Whilst George hints at, he doesn’t directly tell Katy anything about her father. So she travels through the past with her mother’s help. She looks back into the Editor’s office, the redundancies and the archives; providing a great opportunity to create these visceral and engaging spaces with music, movement and the whole ensemble. The pieces swiftly transported from the past to the present, and the casting of three Mary’s and three George’s helped the audience to differentiate these. This also allowed for an apparent inter-generational collaboration onstage. We never learn of Katy’s parentage, and its left open to the audience’s interpretation. However, I have an inclination that Patricia resigned from the Herald as a result of dealings with George. She couldn’t face to stare into the immorality of the situation involving her father’s death and so resigned. It is indeed a complex script that hoped to incorporate as many elements of the past, the future, relationships between families, and the printer’s stories whilst voicing the hardships of Glasgow in the 1980’s.

So, as soon as we’d blacked out the windows of the vast space with tinfoil and helped with some of the ASM-ing tasks, we dived into character work. There were two main processes that we used as vocabulary between the whole company and the directors; Peter and Kane. We studied Labov’s states of tension first. They fall into seven different states of tension and the exercise was initiated after a lengthy circuit workout, so we were genuinely exhausted and could fully commit to the lethargic level of Number 1. They fell into the following categories:

Number 1: Relaxed, no tension in your body at all; laying down.
Number 2: Minimal tension, jelly like; nicknamed the “Californian.” Comparable to first waking up.
Number 3: Slightly more tension in your body; a neutral state that has no real purpose.
Number 4: High level, more upright, with a clear purpose. Walks in straight lines and nicknamed “stage management.”
Number 5: “The optimist.” A higher level of curiosity and purpose; quicker pace.
Number 6: “The pessimist.” An over-exaggerated state of tension, in that everything you see, touch or hear, throws you into a state of tension that is unbearable, fast paced and scatty.
Number 7: The amount of tension in your body reaches a level that is excruciating; grief.
 

This technique was combined with “Archetypes;” we were equipped with adjectives and stereotypes that we had to interpret to create these extreme levels of archetype. These were as follows:

The Innocent: forward, light, inquisitive.
The Fool: Clumsy, heavy, open jawed, clenched fists, tight.
Mother: Open, warm, caring.
Hero: Simple, tall, strong.
Trickster: Sly, magical.
King: Tall, arrogant, simple.

After experimenting with these and how they effected our movement, posture and indeed our voices, we applied them to the different choruses that were forming out of the initial printer’s chorus; the journalists, the dispatchers and the office workers. We collectively decided that the characters of the printers would be a combination of the innocent and the trickster; they are the innocent victims of the move to Albion Street and indeed are under-appreciated in their place of work; embodying the elements of the sly and magical. This vocabulary became vital in communicating and re-establishing characters at the heart of the story. And with that, the time to work on the main blocking of the script arrived. Whilst we’d formed a tight company it was integral for the principles to work with the writer, and the bigger ensemble to create a tight chorus. The first main breakthrough came with the opening scene, which was established from piles of boxes and newspapers. The inspiration behind it being the ghosts in the walls re-awakened by the character of George armed with water and ink. It was a motif that carried throughout the body of the production; and formed a vehicle to transport the audience around the promenade production. Rachel Clive, our writer, visited the Herald offices early in the development process and became fascinated with the idea that two converse elements work together inside a printing press to create something magical and transcendent. It was an idea akin to the whole process of the Herald when based at Mitchell Lane; so many elements in one space; some denied and quietened, others dominating, yet still they continued to print a quality newspaper. No evidence of the move was ever documented in the paper, despite the fact it affected so many lives.

I really could write on and on in ridiculous detail about every nook and cranny of the production, as it skipped from camp Frasers scenes, with us dancing hypnotically to Blondie, to throwing our arms around violently in a club scene. The latter of which came out of an exercise with a Frantic Assembly technique; spelling your name out with various body parts inside a box. It sounds unlikely, but it looks and works incredibly well, especially with the aid of glowsticks and ‘Mr Brightside.’ The archive set was made from fishing nets with the musicians buried away in a corner, in which they recreated the obsessions of a “Glasgow Murder,” and headlines from 1980. Nothing in the production was isolated and considered in its own space. The whole production was about collaboration and it definitely stayed true to that. The lighting was phenomenal (even if it did take a 14 hour tech rehearsal to get it all right in 7 different spaces) and the set breathtakingly simple and effective. It really is incredible what can be made out of newspapers and boxes, including a 10 foot monster “editor” puppet.

Aside from the production we were given some rare and exciting opportunities’ in the form of what we like to call, “schmoozing.” One of the National Youth Theatre’s main funders in Scotland are Scottish Television, and after the opening night, the NYT members were invited up to the STV headquarters for a get together and to see the footage shown on the news earlier that day. We were all introduced to Rob Woodwood and various members of the higher body of the National Youth Theatre. The view over the Clyde was impeccable and we really did receive a taste of the good life.

But it was all about the Ghost Office. We sold out before we even had a show. Every single show was emotional and extraordinary, and each night bought us all more surprises. The only criticism we received on the first night was that many of the 100 strong audience couldn’t see, and as a result we had to immediately re-block a lot of the transportation of the audience. Thus, we made way for benches, and an entirely improvised first scene. It was a project that was constantly developing, growing and changing even in its final breaths. The whole process was demanding, enthralling, fascinating and a whole ream of other adjectives that I could exhaust to their full extent in an attempt to encapsulate the truly unbelievable experience I was lucky enough to have. I’ve made friends for life, built a lifetime connection with Glasgow, learnt so much about the value of community theatre and how it can change lives, and most definitely had my life changed in one way or other.

And so, onto the Edinburgh Fringe I go!