We went last night to see Alan Ayckbourn's Absent Friends at the Mercury Theatre in Colchester. It was very funny and we had a great evening and it's on until 10th March so there's still time to go and see it. And that's about it, really. You can skip the rest of the post if you like.
I have said it before, but if you live in the Colchester area the Mercury is a wonderful theatre. The staff are pleasant, the seats are comfy, service at the bar is quick, the multi-storey car park is a few minute's walk away, tickets are a third of the price of London theatres. There's nothing not to like, provided the play is any good. As we enjoy Ayckbourn's brand of sharply observed, near-the-bone comedy then given a half-way competent production we were practically bound to be happy.
The Mercury's version is not merely competent, but good. Absent Friends is a play in real time about a man who has tragically lost his fiancee in an accident, who is invited to tea with a group of old friends who haven't seen him for a while and never met his fiancee, but think they ought to be supportive. This is a classic Ayckbourn set-up, with a group of people whose relationships are already strained or simply in the past, a major taboo subject (death), and an outsider (the bereaved and out of touch former member of the group) to tip things into motion. They move. It would spoil it to say how, but it is a deliciously funny, minutely observed play, and the cast do it justice. The set, a 1974 domestic interior, is a masterpiece, from the furniture down to the tiniest details like the pair of wooden gazelle on the fitted modular shelves, and the two stereo speakers at different heights. And the spider plants. It was uncanny, like being there (and being in 1974 was quite bad enough the first time round).
Ayckbourn writes cruel plays. I've thought so before. There is some knockabout comedy, and there are some brilliant bits of dialogue as people say the things that they shouldn't, or that are madly inappropriate given circumstances they don't know about but that the audience does. It isn't fluffy, though. Absent Friends was first performed in 1974, the same year as Porridge first appeared on TV, but is far nastier than Porridge's gentle, compassionate humour.
There were a few empty seats last night, but the auditorium was pretty full. I originally tried to book for Tuesday, just because Tuesdays are slightly cheaper than Wednesdays, but was late getting round to it, as the Mercury spring brochure is yet another piece of mail that never reached us. By the time I thought it must be out by now and looked at the website, Tuesday was almost a sell-out. The Colchester audience likes its acid comedy.
Absent Friends is a good choice for the Mercury in that regard, and because it is a six hander with only one set, and so comparatively economical to stage. It's a tough choice for regional theatre directors in these difficult times for the arts. Put on too many plays that are perceived as middle-brow, middle class humour and you risk losing your Arts Council funding like Exeter's Northcott did, even if they do delight the local audience and fill the house. Put on too many modern-dress re-creations of Greek myths intended to challenge us and tick the funding boxes and you risk playing to empty seats. The Mercury's production of Iph featured in Charles Spencer's list in the Telegraph of the top ten worst plays of the year a few years ago, and we didn't go to see it, even though the Mercury did write to us offering us free programmes and ice-cream if only we'd give it a go. Sorry, but we know what we like, we provincials. I'm rather hoping that in the current climate they will play it a bit safe, and we might get some JB Priestley, or a Tom Stoppard revival.
Regrettably, the next company production is by Arnold Wesker, and after being bored out of my skin at the National Theatre some years ago by a play of his about national service, that had practically no plot and not much to commend the dialogue, I'm not inclined to risk it. I'm more of a natural theatre-goer than the Systems Administrator, so the deal is that I try to choose things we'll both like, and the SA puts up with the duds with a good grace provided the long term aggregate experience remains positive. Absent Friends was a big plus in the theatre-going enjoyment account. We're planning to try Dancing at Lughnasa in the summer, and while I hope that will be another positive, it might require the SA to draw on accumulated reserves of goodwill, so I'm not chancing my luck with Arnold Wesker.
Showing posts with label Colchester Mercury Theatre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Colchester Mercury Theatre. Show all posts
Thursday, 1 March 2012
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
how many major heritage attractions do you need?
The headline in the East Anglian Daily Times said Colchester: Iconic Jumbo water tower could be turned into flats and restaurant. You might not know that Colchester has an iconic water tower. It was built in 1883 in Italianate style out of red brick, and is tall and high up, as you would expect a water tower to be, so you can see it from round about. I'm quite fond of it. It is especially useful if you are on the train and have dozed off, or were not paying attention, so that when the brakes go on and you realise you are approaching a stop you can see at once that it is Colchester, and you aren't still at Chelmsford or Witham. A friend who lived in the cosmopolitan centre that is East Finchley found the idea that one of Colchester's most significant buildings was a water tower faintly risible, but there you go. We have to take our amusements as we find them in the provinces.
Jumbo, or the Balkerne Water Tower as it is more correctly known, is Grade II listed, and has been shuffled from one owner to another without being used for anything since it ceased to function as a water tower in 1984. It is now rather sad, boarded off all round the bottom, with pigeons on it. The current owner, who bought it for £330,000 back in 2000, wants to turn it into offices, flats and a restaurant. The planners at Colchester Borough Council have said that this would be OK.
It turns out there is a Balkerne Tower Trust. They don't actually own Jumbo, and as far as I know haven't been campaigning with popular local support to buy it, but they are opposed to the development plans of the man who does own it. Their chairman says that 'Jumbo should be a major heritage attraction of which Colchester can be proud', and that Colchester already has enough offices, flats and restaurants around there, and that the scheme will lose money.
It is very kind and concerned of the Balkerne Tower Trust to seek to save a commercial developer from losing money in an ill-thought venture, but I'm not sure it is any of their business. Still less am I convinced that Jumbo has a viable financial future as a major heritage attraction. It is a brick tower with a water tank on the top. What are people supposed to do? Pose in front of it for their photos as if it were the leaning tower of Pisa, before climbing up the equivalent of about ten storeys to admire the view? From the top, assuming the Balkerne Tower Trust are OK about cutting holes in the sides of the tank, or putting an extra platform over it, you ought to able to see, oh I don't know, the top of William and Griffin's roof, the inner ring road, the postwar main railway station and the big new housing estate stretching up towards the hospital. I really can't see the gate money coming close to meeting the staffing costs and running expenses.
Colchester already possesses a beautiful fifteenth century grade II* listed timber framed house with a much-loved small garden called Tymperleys, which was given to the town by its previous owner, a local businessman, after he had funded its restoration. Tymperleys is currently closed, its future uncertain, and its collection of clocks moved to another museum (Hollytrees), because the council can't afford to run it, and doesn't know what to do with it. The new firstsite development is nearing completion, late, over budget and having attracted a storm of local controversy. It is 'committed to delivering a world-class centre for the visual arts and a fantastic community facility for all our residents to enjoy, free of charge.' The Mercury Theatre and the Arts Centre have both seen their funding cut, and their devotees (which includes us) are nervous that further cuts could make them unviable a few years hence. Oh, and Colchester has a delightful free entry art gallery and garden in The Minories, and there is already a town museum. With all of these buildings, which were actually designed as buildings for people to go into, not as a structure to hold up a big lump of water, providing ample space for static displays and performances and competing for public funds and private support, I'm not convinced that a Victorian water tower is going to cut the mustard as a major heritage attraction.
If Jumbo can be redeveloped commercially, and continue to sit in its familiar place on Colchester's skyline, then I say good luck to the developer, and to the businesses in the offices, and the people living in the flats, and the restaurant. You never know, a nice civilised eaterie that offered a pre-theatre menu, in-at-six-out-by-ten-past seven, slick service, food not too salty so you don't get wildly thirsty midway through the first half, understated minimalist decor, no loud music or shouty young people, bang opposite the Mercury Theatre, might even persuade some of the grey pound that you see pouring out of their cars in the multi-storey twenty minutes before curtain-up to make an evening of it and go for a pre-performance supper first, instead of having a snack in the kitchen before going out like we do.
Jumbo, or the Balkerne Water Tower as it is more correctly known, is Grade II listed, and has been shuffled from one owner to another without being used for anything since it ceased to function as a water tower in 1984. It is now rather sad, boarded off all round the bottom, with pigeons on it. The current owner, who bought it for £330,000 back in 2000, wants to turn it into offices, flats and a restaurant. The planners at Colchester Borough Council have said that this would be OK.
It turns out there is a Balkerne Tower Trust. They don't actually own Jumbo, and as far as I know haven't been campaigning with popular local support to buy it, but they are opposed to the development plans of the man who does own it. Their chairman says that 'Jumbo should be a major heritage attraction of which Colchester can be proud', and that Colchester already has enough offices, flats and restaurants around there, and that the scheme will lose money.
It is very kind and concerned of the Balkerne Tower Trust to seek to save a commercial developer from losing money in an ill-thought venture, but I'm not sure it is any of their business. Still less am I convinced that Jumbo has a viable financial future as a major heritage attraction. It is a brick tower with a water tank on the top. What are people supposed to do? Pose in front of it for their photos as if it were the leaning tower of Pisa, before climbing up the equivalent of about ten storeys to admire the view? From the top, assuming the Balkerne Tower Trust are OK about cutting holes in the sides of the tank, or putting an extra platform over it, you ought to able to see, oh I don't know, the top of William and Griffin's roof, the inner ring road, the postwar main railway station and the big new housing estate stretching up towards the hospital. I really can't see the gate money coming close to meeting the staffing costs and running expenses.
Colchester already possesses a beautiful fifteenth century grade II* listed timber framed house with a much-loved small garden called Tymperleys, which was given to the town by its previous owner, a local businessman, after he had funded its restoration. Tymperleys is currently closed, its future uncertain, and its collection of clocks moved to another museum (Hollytrees), because the council can't afford to run it, and doesn't know what to do with it. The new firstsite development is nearing completion, late, over budget and having attracted a storm of local controversy. It is 'committed to delivering a world-class centre for the visual arts and a fantastic community facility for all our residents to enjoy, free of charge.' The Mercury Theatre and the Arts Centre have both seen their funding cut, and their devotees (which includes us) are nervous that further cuts could make them unviable a few years hence. Oh, and Colchester has a delightful free entry art gallery and garden in The Minories, and there is already a town museum. With all of these buildings, which were actually designed as buildings for people to go into, not as a structure to hold up a big lump of water, providing ample space for static displays and performances and competing for public funds and private support, I'm not convinced that a Victorian water tower is going to cut the mustard as a major heritage attraction.
If Jumbo can be redeveloped commercially, and continue to sit in its familiar place on Colchester's skyline, then I say good luck to the developer, and to the businesses in the offices, and the people living in the flats, and the restaurant. You never know, a nice civilised eaterie that offered a pre-theatre menu, in-at-six-out-by-ten-past seven, slick service, food not too salty so you don't get wildly thirsty midway through the first half, understated minimalist decor, no loud music or shouty young people, bang opposite the Mercury Theatre, might even persuade some of the grey pound that you see pouring out of their cars in the multi-storey twenty minutes before curtain-up to make an evening of it and go for a pre-performance supper first, instead of having a snack in the kitchen before going out like we do.
Friday, 19 August 2011
an evening with the humour of Bob Newhart and Tom Lehrer
We spent last night at an evening with Tom Lehrer and Bob Newhart. Well, not actually with them, obviously, though both are still alive, Lehrer being 83 and Newhart 81, but at a touring show of Lehrer's songs and Newhart's skits that was running at the Colchester Mercury, for one night only. As it was for just the one night you won't be able to go and see it locally in the near future, so really there's no point in my banging on about how good it was.
Tom Lehrer only wrote 37 songs, as last night's performer Peter Gill pointed out in his introduction (not the theatre director Peter Gill or the ex-drummer of Frankie Goes to Hollywood Peter Gill, but the jazz and rock-and-roll pianist from Cheltenham Peter Gill). This sounds a small number, but only equates to running out of songs after three albums, which is as far or further as lots of bands got. I don't think Joe Jackson made it past three albums, or at least three good ones, and the Kaiser Chiefs ran out of material and critical acclaim after two. Lehrer wrote very good, clever, nasty, songs, and the Systems Administrator and I both like that sort of thing. Peter Gill, as he points out on his website, has been around for a long time, starting off as a cocktail bar and wedding reception jobbing piano player, and he can play the piano, and sing so you can hear the words, with an unnerving leer and a twinkle in his eye. His site says he is still available for private bookings if he isn't doing anything else, and if we needed a jobbing pianist and maybe lived a smidge closer to Cheltenham we wouldn't hesitate to book him. And if you get a chance to hear his new show The Golden Age of Musical Satire I should take it. We would.
The only Bob Newhart sketch I had heard previously, on R4, was Introducing Tobacco to Civilisation (here's a link, but why don't you read the rest of the blog first and then come back to it? Introducing Tobacco to Civilisation). The other routines, all presented as one half of a dialogue with an unseen partner or audience, are equally funny: The Driving Instructor, The Retirement Party, Defusing a Bomb. I should go and get a CD of them if you have a long drive ahead of you, or need cheering up. The school for advanced bus drivers is clearly true. We have been on a bus (in Eastbourne) driven by one of its alumni, and I think some of them may be working for National Express East Anglia. Brake, accelerator, brake, accelerator. You have to let them get right alongside the bus (train) and then slam the door in their faces (here's another link).
Digging around on the net before going out for some information on the show (like the running time) the Systems Administrator came up with a gem, the Theatre Information Pack. This is put out by the promoters of An Evening with the Humour of Bob Newhart and Tom Lehrer. It sets out their fee (£1000 or an 80:20 split in their favour), the optimal size of venue (50-500 seats so The Mercury is at their upper limit), minimum ticket price (£12) and the technical details for the set and lighting. They specify that they must have one lockable dressing room with an iron, ironing board and suitable power supply, but their other requirements seem very modest. No demands for kittens or blue smarties in the dressing room. Instead they require access to tea and coffee making facilities, still bottled water, and light refreshements for three people (two vegetarian) no later than one hour before the performance, though sandwiches and soft drinks are perfectly adequate. How can you not like such people?
The show was packed out, and should have made a useful surplus for the Mercury, which is handy as their public funding is being reduced in the cuts. We are both keen to support the theatre, and this was the only remaining thing before Christmas that we wanted to see, pantomimes not being our thing and the Systems Administrator having a deep-seated aversion to Shakespeare. I hope there are a few more similar shows out there, and that the Mercury manages to book one or two of them.
Tom Lehrer only wrote 37 songs, as last night's performer Peter Gill pointed out in his introduction (not the theatre director Peter Gill or the ex-drummer of Frankie Goes to Hollywood Peter Gill, but the jazz and rock-and-roll pianist from Cheltenham Peter Gill). This sounds a small number, but only equates to running out of songs after three albums, which is as far or further as lots of bands got. I don't think Joe Jackson made it past three albums, or at least three good ones, and the Kaiser Chiefs ran out of material and critical acclaim after two. Lehrer wrote very good, clever, nasty, songs, and the Systems Administrator and I both like that sort of thing. Peter Gill, as he points out on his website, has been around for a long time, starting off as a cocktail bar and wedding reception jobbing piano player, and he can play the piano, and sing so you can hear the words, with an unnerving leer and a twinkle in his eye. His site says he is still available for private bookings if he isn't doing anything else, and if we needed a jobbing pianist and maybe lived a smidge closer to Cheltenham we wouldn't hesitate to book him. And if you get a chance to hear his new show The Golden Age of Musical Satire I should take it. We would.
The only Bob Newhart sketch I had heard previously, on R4, was Introducing Tobacco to Civilisation (here's a link, but why don't you read the rest of the blog first and then come back to it? Introducing Tobacco to Civilisation). The other routines, all presented as one half of a dialogue with an unseen partner or audience, are equally funny: The Driving Instructor, The Retirement Party, Defusing a Bomb. I should go and get a CD of them if you have a long drive ahead of you, or need cheering up. The school for advanced bus drivers is clearly true. We have been on a bus (in Eastbourne) driven by one of its alumni, and I think some of them may be working for National Express East Anglia. Brake, accelerator, brake, accelerator. You have to let them get right alongside the bus (train) and then slam the door in their faces (here's another link).
Digging around on the net before going out for some information on the show (like the running time) the Systems Administrator came up with a gem, the Theatre Information Pack. This is put out by the promoters of An Evening with the Humour of Bob Newhart and Tom Lehrer. It sets out their fee (£1000 or an 80:20 split in their favour), the optimal size of venue (50-500 seats so The Mercury is at their upper limit), minimum ticket price (£12) and the technical details for the set and lighting. They specify that they must have one lockable dressing room with an iron, ironing board and suitable power supply, but their other requirements seem very modest. No demands for kittens or blue smarties in the dressing room. Instead they require access to tea and coffee making facilities, still bottled water, and light refreshements for three people (two vegetarian) no later than one hour before the performance, though sandwiches and soft drinks are perfectly adequate. How can you not like such people?
The show was packed out, and should have made a useful surplus for the Mercury, which is handy as their public funding is being reduced in the cuts. We are both keen to support the theatre, and this was the only remaining thing before Christmas that we wanted to see, pantomimes not being our thing and the Systems Administrator having a deep-seated aversion to Shakespeare. I hope there are a few more similar shows out there, and that the Mercury manages to book one or two of them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)