by Laura Kressly Alice and her husband moved house from a bustling city to sleepy Berkhamsted just 6 weeks ago. She can’t wait to make new friends and get stuck into all that village life offers, even though her new home is hardly trendy like Margate, and none of her friends are willing to visit. […]
Hear Me Raw was perhaps the poshest theatrical experience I have ever had (and that really is saying something). It was a glowing auditorium of bad hair, good genes, and plastic prosecco, followed by a swarm of supportive mums murmuring ‘Oh, isn’t she brave’.
Louise Orwin is asking big questions about female sexuality and desire, but she doesn’t have the answers. There are no definitive answers anyway, just individual experiences. To make Oh Yes Oh No, she interviewed dozens of women around the country and found some disturbing patterns.
Whatever your thoughts are about the inevitable march towards death, The Lounge is likely to touch on them in some way or another. Set in the lounge of a care home with characters ranging from residents to staff to hapless visitors, this three-hander is a funny and moving overview of attitudes.
Andrea isn’t very well. In solitary confinement at some sort of secure facility, she has no one to talk to other than those who briefly visit and those who live in her head.
The all-female play looks at the complex and controversial landscape of commercial surrogacy in India through the microcosmic relationship between three parties – the surrogate, the doctor and the mother.
Hearing Things is a show that sets out to show how these issues are played out at ground level and how they affect those that manage and use mental health services on a day-to-day basis.
Running at just over an hour, writer Andrew Maddock fits in the nature of art and its criticism, public health, social class, poverty and loyalty across two very different sets of characters in the same neighbourhood.
Donny Stixx is a teenaged magician with boundless dedication to his craft and desperation for fame. Rather than doing things that boys his age normally do, he spends hours honing his skills and tweaking the act he performs.
Gavin Plimsole is a good enough guy. A bit geeky and nervous but well-meaning, maybe even a bit endearing if you like that sort of thing.
What happens when a dancer and performance maker loses the ability to dance due to chronic pain? She makes a solo dance piece with hardly any dance in it. A mix of emotive description, encounters with medical and health practitioners, and her own research tell the story of an injury and the subsequent pain that wouldn’t leave her body. Pointedly still and so quiet that she needs a mic, Laura Dannequin’s resilience makes a compelling piece of solo storytelling that mourns the dances her body wouldn’t allow her to make.