S.O.S (part two)

This week's blog post comes from Joe Steele, director of S.O.S
 

I must admit, there was a moment - after we had casted the play - in which I suddenly felt very apprehensive. Apprehensive, as I realised that I was now in charge of the execution of a new piece of theatre: trying to get inside the mind of writer Tom Straszewski, and directing two actors with far more experience of theatre than me. Being a music student who has directed only one play (Nöel Coward’s ‘Hay Fever’ - a far cry from Tom’s atmospheric psychological thriller-meets-ghost story), what right did I have to be doing any of this?

Perhaps none at all, but here I am. And, as it turns out, my musical background is not as useless here as one might think. I have always felt that dramatic writing - or rather, good dramatic writing - demands a lot of the same qualities as a piece of music. A strong sense of rhythm is required: rhythm that builds, breaks, re-forms; pauses, rests, and beats; dynamic variation: crescendos and diminuendos. Luckily, Tom’s script for ‘S.O.S.’ has all the above in abundance, and our two actors - Richard Easterbrook and Ian Giles - show a flair for interpreting the lines as such. The fact that their vocal qualities stand in stark contrast to each other - Ian’s insistent staccato against Richard’s bassy growl - is an added bonus.

In addition to all of this, it is perhaps something of a blessing for me that the main motif of the piece is an aural one. I am referring to the use of morse code, which permeates and even affects the action throughout, tapping away like someone constantly knocking at a door. This serves to help create the dark, foreboding atmosphere of ‘S.O.S.’, as Henry, our anti-protagonist, comes face-to-face with Spargo, a mysterious figure from his past. The events gradually become stranger until we reach the play’s eerie, quasi-supernatural climax.

‘Quasi-’ is perhaps the important part of that sentence; this is no straightforward run-of-the-mill ghost story, blending with it thriller and mystery, whilst also tackling questions surrounding communication (and miscommunication) in contemporary society. So far we have found that discussion is as an essential part of the process as actual ‘rehearsal’, which highlights the strength of the writing. Want to know what we’ve been talking about? The only way is to come and found out for yourself. 

Tickets for The Envelope Project are on sale and can be purchased by calling 01904 613000 or visiting www.ridinglights.org/envelope

 

S.O.S

This week's blog comes from Tom Straszewski, writer of 'S.O.S'. 

 

The word rehearsal literally means “to repeat aloud”, but is derived[1] from the same root word as “hearse”- a funeral vehicle- and from there to “harrow”- literally to break up the ground, but also to torment the soul. All these might be used to describe the process of handing over a play to be rehearsed, but thankfully it’s the first meaning of harrow that described Joe Steele’s approach, breaking up the hardpan soil of the script and preparing it for growth. Having spent the last month digging up an overgrown allotment, I like this metaphor. Let’s see how far I can push it...

Although S.O.S. has been work-shopped, drafted, redrafted, scrapped and rewritten entirely and read aloud by a number of groups and individuals before coming to this point, until Saturday it was entirely in my head. Now, I've had my first chance to see it performed in a roughly final state- at least as far as the text goes.  But there was still work to be done! Once outside my head, passages that felt right on the page were awkward in performance. Through Joe’s direction and the actors’ performance, I was able to see and uproot these occasional rocks that might throw the plough, and uproot the weeds that might later take over the plot.

That's enough farming metaphors for now. 

It also allowed the actors to query phrases and moments in the text where I had been unclear or contradictory. I’ve had the good fortune of acting with Ian (playing the Henry Pelham) and Richard (playing the enigmatic Spargo), and their intelligence in the rehearsal room is one of the qualities that encouraged us to cast them. At their prompting, some lines were changed, other paragraphs cut entirely, and some I insisted on keeping- often because they intentionally revealed contradictions in the characters.

Once the run-through was finished and the initial round of cuts and notes were made, we started discussing the characters and their key moments. If it’s harrowing to place your script in another person’s hands, it’s also deeply rewarding when an actor pinpoints without prompting the exact subtext you wrote. And that’s why I like writing for the stage- because at some point you have to give up control and let nature (or rather, the rest of the creative team) do its work.

Next week on the blog, Joe will be discussing the director’s view on all this. As a musician and composer, he’s already been thinking about the background sounds, in a play full of sound effects, missed messages and storms. But he’s also looking at the script as a piece of music- lending his skill and attention to the play’s pauses, beats and rhythm. I’m excited to see it all come together- and you should be too.

[1] According to that esteemed academic, Professor Internet.

Tickets for The Envelope Project are now on sale and can be purchased by calling 01904 613000 or visiting www.ridinglights.org/envelope

First glimpses and ticket information

Ping! New email.

Can you take a look at this for me?

Ping! New email.

Can I come and look at the space again?

Ping! New email.

Where do we stand on hanging things from the ceiling?

Let's just say it's all go at Envelope Project HQ. Which is fantastic - it's great to be hearing about so much activity. Actually seeing what has been all on paper becoming a reality is pretty amazing. And to be fair, I'm sending out plenty of emails of my own! As more and more of the casting is confirmed, my many, many multicoloured spreadsheets are filling out. Drafts of posters, requests for props and practicalities for rehearsal spaces and photo shoots are flying back and forth. It's exciting.

What's also exciting is that from noon today you can now lay your hands on tickets!

If you need your interests teasing any further, we now have a trailer to tempt you with.




Friargate Theatre is a wonderful space and is perfect for an event like this one. However, we're anticipating that tickets will move very quickly, so I'd advise you to not wait around, but to book yours sooner rather than later. 


Tickets can be bought in person from Friargate Theatre, over the phone on 01904 613000 or online from www.ridinglights.org


- Becky Thomson
Script Yorkshire (York Branch) Co-ordinator