What WBN Has Been Doing (whilst we haven’t been blogging) PART 2:

Important team building and research. Naturally.

Important team building and research. Naturally. See point 12.

Last time we hadn’t blogged in a while, we let everyone know exactly what was so important that we couldn’t write some words in a bloggy format. Well, we are in this junction once again so I have come up with another list so that you can see what we have been up to:

1. Writing. (Now Corinne and I are even writing TOGETHER – which hasn’t been the unmitigated disaster some may have predicted. By ‘some’, I mean Corinne and I)

2. Planning. So much planning.

3. Meetings. So many meetings. To do point 2.

4. Moving house. For me, this was my first time moving house in London. For Estelle it was move number 4 in London for the same period. For Corinne, it was move 576 in London in the same period. Here’s hoping Corinne can settle now.

5. Having pieces on in Walthamstow, Latitude and Exeter. What jet setters we are.

6. Getting ready for shows in Forest Hill and Sydenham (x2) and Scarborough.

7. Eating lots of Biscuits.

8. ALL OF US having Norovirus. At the same time (please note, this was not due to the biscuits).

9. Eating lots of ice lollies (this was a result of having Norovirus and the fragile nature of our tummies)

10. Working very hard on various projects (not all of them for WBN, we must admit)

11. Going on a Writers Retreat in Wales where we discovered wild ‘Sheep-Goats’.

12. Going to AltonTowers for my birthday (even though I had an Ear Infection, and crazy up and down rides are not great for balance. Especially, when said Ear Infection means you can’t stand upright at the best of times)

13. Realised that despite all the scary rides, the most frightening part for Corinne was being made to walk through the Aquarium. She is not a fish lover, suffice to say. Unless it is covered in battered and comes with chips (she is from Yorkshire, after all?)

14. Watching a hell of a lot of Doctor Who.

15. Estelle and Corinne putting up with me ‘singing’ along (singing is the wrong word here) to the Doctor Who theme tune. VERY LOUDLY.

16. I have started wearing less clothes with holes in, Estelle has branched out into new colours and even wears green whereas Corinne still gets stopped and asked questions whenever a vintage fashion fair is happening in London.

17. Me insisting that Estelle and Corinne try every ale that we come across.

18. Group hugs. Again, on my insistence.

19. Having strong reactions to most things in the news.

20. Really enjoying the Olympics and going to one of the Paralympics athletics sessions.

Back again soon.

WBN Charlie x


As Charlie WBN would say: Crumbs 1

So, erm, didn’t quite expect the (lovely, slightly overwhelming) response which the love letter got. I’m still trying to find time to respond to everyone who contacted me but, needless to say, you’re all wonderful. And to everyone who tweeted, re-tweeted, blogged, commented, emailed – thank you.

One of the results of all of this is that I have about a squillion new blogs (see, that A in GCSE maths didn’t go to waste) to add to the blog roll. I’m in the midst of writing a play at the moment so have forbidden myself anything I recognise as being procrastination but I intend to schedule in a slot in the next week to do the updating. So, feel free to wave manically in my direction if you’ve got a blog I should be reading.

As a final piece of housekeeping, I should say for those who are visiting here for the first time that I also blog about theatrey-things over on my personal blog (only, I swear a bit more and tell marginally embarrassing stories over there).

On Why It’s Time To Listen (or a love letter to theatre bloggers) 14

I’m going to write down a date. Friday the 10th of September 2010. One day everyone who has ever written – or read – a theatre blog might want to remember it. The day that the Royal Opera House not so much poked themselves in the eye as repeatedly bludgeoned themselves with a heavy instrument (an instrument which, in the subsequent health and safety report, they spelt incorrectly). The wonderful irony to the whole thing being that whilst the storm was raging the ROH’s Head of Digital Marketing, Rachel Coldicutt, was at The Media Festival Arts talking about the importance of open data. It is indeed all in the timing.

I’m not going to give a blow-by-blow account (or analysis) of the events because you can read them first hand on Intermezzo’s blog, with the legal view here and the marketing view here. I also feel it needs pointing out that there were two distinct issues that got tangled up on Friday, issues which should be separated out:

1. The specific case and what it shows about theatre bloggers, blogging and theatres.
2. The perception of the ROH within the arts community (which is bundled up with the issue of funding and the level of fear that is – justly – prevalent in much of the arts community about what the Autumn funding cuts will look like).
I’ve lots to say on the latter subject but, for today at least, I’m going to stick firmly to the former.

Theatre blogging is a niche pursuit. But then going to sit in a darkened auditorium and watch people speak – or in the case of opera, sing – someone else’s words multiple times a month (or some times a week) is also a niche pursuit. The internet, in all its multifaceted joy, allows a niche to flourish. Like attracts like (or compels like). It not only cements tendencies (that of reading about theatre, of continuing going, of knowing more than you could ever keep in your head), it also allows tendencies to grow. Knowing there is a community of people out there doing the same thing – theatre-going is a tribe as much as anyone else. Of course not all repeat theatre goers blog but, in 2010 with the ease of google, I’d be surprised to find a repeat theatre-goer (who wasn’t directly involved in the industry*) who had never read a theatre blog. These people – the people whose names might otherwise be simply one in a marketing database – should be hugely valued (and respected). And if not now, then when? As we get ready to batten down the hatches and weather the oncoming storm Theatres should be respecting these people more than ever.

Theatre blogging, like all individual blogging, is massively democratic. A “name” will only get you so far. But you can make yourself a name within the community. There are many, many ways to do this – most are a niche within a niche, either because of their predilection to certain types of theatre or because of their locality – but what unites theatre bloggers is their dedication (have you tried going to see multiple shows and then coming home and writing them – without being paid to do so? It’s bloody hard work when, frankly, you’d rather be in bed). Every single one of them, even the most world weary or caustically brilliant (you know who I’m looking at), love of what they write. They want theatres to succeed, they want the next show they see to be the best thing they have ever seen, they want to share their excitement (or, as it may be, disappointment).

Recently the Guardian Theatre Blog made me want to put my fist through my computer. From the moment I saw the title of the article – Five stars in their eyes: can you trust unpaid theatre critics? – I knew it was most likely going to result in my feeling the need to jab a knitting needle in my eye. Theatre bloggers, with their wordpress and blogspot accounts, are unpaid. Some might occasionally get free tickets but by and large they pay for the privilege of sitting in a theatre’s seat (or standing as the case may be) and then come home and write about it for free. I was genuinely pained when I saw that the article had caused Jake Orr, who founded the – excuse me for the expletive – fucking important A Younger Theatre, say that he was “somewhat down heartened and questioning the value of what [he writes]”. No one comes out as a fully formed theatre critic. What you need is dedication, some degree of writing flair, a willingness to see a lot of theatre, the knowledge you can always learn (or re-learn) and a whole bundle of passion. Theatre bloggers in the UK have these characteristics in abundance. If they didn’t they wouldn’t be writing about theatre and people wouldn’t be reading them. For me a critic is only as good as my relationship with them. Through my reading – whether I visit their blog in a vaguely stalker-ish manner on a hourly basis or whether I drop in and out according to interest in what they’re reviewing – I know their biases, I know their specialisms, I know where I stand in relation to them. This is what matters. That they also entertain, inform and (sometimes) provoke me is all part of the package.

What blogs create – something which Twitter’s popularity amongst the art-prone has intensified and broadened** – is a web of community. Forget six degrees of separation, I’d decrease it to one degree for the online arts enthusiasts. What role you play in this community can be as diverse as any real-life community might be (whether you see yourself as the Mayor in waiting, the person drawing graffiti on the bridges or occasional tourist who wants to see the major attractions). Words spread (with some voices, as in any community, being louder). In the offline world I’m often asked about shows people should see and I clocked recently that my default response is to fall back on what the “buzz” is on the theatre blogs. Theatre bloggers are word-of-mouth amongst friends magnified – because anyone who can access the internet can be their “friend”. If you under estimate the scale of this community and its ability to communicate – well, then you end up with the Royal Opera House on Friday.

As Intermezzo says on her latest post on the subject theatre blogging is here to stay. I first blogged about theatre-going in 2001, I first bought a theatre ticket directly because of something I’d read on a blog back in April 2007 (when I didn’t even live in London) because of this. It’s laughable that it’s 2010 and many of our major arts institutions haven’t realised that blogging exists as more than a vague concept (or something that someone in their marketing department does in a half-arsed, vaguely inept manner). The theatre companies who have embraced social media (and embrace means more than just being there with your twitter account RTs of positive comments and Facebook page of official photos) are largely the ones without buildings (there is a notable exception up in Stratford). When you’re filling spaces with hundreds of seats every night it’s easy to forget the individual theatre goer sitting in E23 up in the Amphitheatre. When every person you engage with your work matters – as it does for many small and medium sized companies – you don’t forget the individual. That ticket sale – those future ticket sales – matter. That’s why these companies understand that “social” goes both ways.

Having been a long time blog reader I’m happy to say that theatre blogging in the UK is more exciting than it has ever been. It’s also expanding at a faster rate than I’ve ever seen before. Am I surprised that Friday happened? Absolutely not. Maybe the ROH is lucky that it happened now and not six (or twelve months) later, just as the Tricycle is lucky that this happened in 2008. It’s time, however, not just for (if an organisation is lucky) having one person in a marketing department who knows what a theatre blogger is. All it takes is a clear policy, a lightness of touch, and the humility to remember that these people buy tickets to your shows.

Remember that love I mentioned earlier? That love is for your industry, your venue, your show. Embrace it, don’t stamp all over it in steel-capped boots. Why shouldn’t press photos be available to bloggers as long as they’re properly credited? Given that you have charged them money for your product why shouldn’t bloggers review show whilst they’re in previews? Talk to us. We’re bloggers, we love a conversation. But – and here’s the big lesson – bloggers will not bend to you. Five years ago, maybe, but not now. This community – it’s too big and vocal, for that. You need to adapt and respond to us, not the other way around. Change, innovate, blaze a trail. You might even learn something.

*I’m constantly shocked when people inside the industry can’t name a theatre blogger.

**Not every tweeter blogs but I’d guess 97% of bloggers tweet.

Wherein a Critic Hammers Another Nail In The Coffin.

I don’t think I was alone in doing something of a double take when I read Michael Coveney’s post about watching a preview of Legally Blonde. Specifically the bit where he appeared to projectile vomit all over his computer screen:

“I went on Saturday night and I’ve never sat in an audience so unreal or abnormal. Weird couples, clacking hen parties, simpering teenage girls: it was like being stuck in a nightmare college campus graduation ceremony.”

Yep, still had to do a double take when I copied that over because I’m not entirely sure which part of that paragraph is the most offensive.

I was going to write a rebuttal about Coveney’s prejudices (not to mention his hardly covered misogyny and contempt for a theatre audience who had paid to see a show) but others have already said so incredibly well that I’m going to point you in their direction instead:

Carrie Dun writing at Spotlight robustly and passionately defends the audience’s right to like something critically disliked.

The magnificent Mission Paradox blog wasn’t writing of Coveney when he wrote about art’s hostility to its audiences – but, crikey, someone should send Coveney the link pronto.

Finally, and gloriously, Sans Taste has what is possibly the most eloquent response to the whole debacle.

Around the Blogs: Number 2

Once again taking the lead from The Clyde Fitch Report to take a tour around what all those theatre bloggers in the UK are going on about.

At A Hectic Phase In The Life there was a reflection or two on Howard Barker.

At A Younger Theatre Jake revealed why he really, really doesn’t like one man shows.

At Carousel of Fantasies Matt brought some urban decay to the BAC.

At Confessions of a Playwright our attachment to the idea of the lone genius was questioned.

At The Corner Shop Blog it was almost time for opening night (plus a rather spectacular to-do list)

At Fin Kennedy Fin broke his hiatus to tell us his blog was going on hiatus.

At Hannah blogged about apathy (or rather the myth of apathy), something which after the reaction to that edition of Question Time seems even more pertinent.

At Helen Smith Helen had her second dream about Playwright and one-time blogger David Eldridge.

At John Morrison The Power of Yes proved that it was continuing to underwhelm bloggers.

At Killing Time Dave Windass stepped into Annie Hall. Well, almost.

At Life in the Cheap Seats Webcowgirl saw rather a lot of one of the stars of Silence: The Musical, and rather liked what she saw.

At Miching Malchio it was the proliferation of reviews which was up for discussion.

At Nabokov NewsBlog there was some rather impressive packing going on.

At Paul in London Paul suffered for his art and went back in for the second half of Carousel: The Songs of Jacques Brel at the Barbican

At Pirate Dog Alex Sierz responded to Matt Trueman’s thoughts on liveness and in his effortlessly concise way maybe hit the proverbial nail on the head.

At Russell’s Theatre Reviews it was all about the touring production of Beauty and the Beast. I saw UK Production’s version when it was last doing the rounds 18 months or so ago and would rather have my fingernails pulled out while watching Waiting For Godot than repeat the experience. But, with the brand behind it, it seems like there are many more regional audiences to traumatise before it dies.

At Shenton’s View Mark Shenton had a timely reminder about the problems of buying theatre tickets.

At That Damn Yankee Jason Ferguson continued to explain British Theatre to Americans, this time with the aid of a fire curtain.

At The Guardian Theatre Blog Andrew Haydon considered his relationship to (man of the week) Howard Barker and, subsequently, the terms by which we judge theatre. My (limited) experience of Barker in performance has done nothing but leave me cold – though the other half of Write By Numbers would say the opposite of that – and as anti-intellectual as it might sound for me theatre is at its most compelling when it engages my heart as well as my head. In that way the title of Haydon’s piece is a no-brainer: yes, of course we should watch plays for pleasure because I can stay at home, save my money and read dry critical theorising on the internet for free.

At View From The Stalls the task was to puzzle out what actually happened in Memory Cells with even its Director getting in on the action…

At West End Whingers it was a trip to the almost universally adored Enron which which was on the cards and, perhaps inevitably, it just couldn’t live up to the hype.

Around The Blogs: Number 1 3

One of my favourite recent-ish discoveries is the Clyde Fitch Report and one of the things I love about it is it’s From The Blogroll section that takes a brief look around, well, the Blogroll. So in blatant theft I’m going to start doing the same thing here once a fortnight. It’s a bit different to what I write for Whatsonstage as I’m going to stick to UK based blogs and undoubtedly be a little bit more flippant than I am over there.

So, if you’re sitting comfortably, here goes…

At A Younger Theatre Jake became part of the play and reviewed Tim Crouch’s The Author.

At Carousel of Fantasies Matt Trueman took Roger Foss to task for his dismissal of interactive audience-led theatre in The Stage. Given my documented obsession with One & Other I’m with Trueman on this. And I can say that and still be in raptures over Stoppard and Shakespeare etc etc. Because that’s what’s great about theatre. Difference.

At Confessions of a Playwright there was what can only be described as an accordion moment.

At Hannah blogged about A City Staged and the kind of embracing of the possibilities of social media for theatre which makes me a little sick with excitement. It even made me want to have been in Derby so I could have taken part. (My only connection with Derby is an interesting evening in a club in the early noughties when my feet stuck to the floor and where I probably should have worn a polo neck. So, believe me, this is saying something).

At Helen Smith it was all about a giant knitted poem. And murder. Agatha Christie would be proud.

At Killing Time Dave Windass found paradox and Apostrophe Use Gone Mad in the same sign.

At Life in the Cheap Seats Webcowgirl quite probably could have done without having seen Jane Horrocks  in Annie Get Your Gun.

At Miching Malicho there was an adventure in the streets of York with Belt Up production of The Trial.

At Paul in London the interval of Mother Courage led to the revelation of what Rah-Rah Gay is.

At Pirate Dog it was all about a monkey upstaging Kevin Spacey on stage at the Old Vic. Which almost makes me want to see Inherit the Wind.

At Postcards from the Gods Andrew Haydon most definitely didn’t agree with Michael Billington on David Hare’s The Power of Yes.

At Russell’s Theatre Reviews the Young Vic’s production of Annie Get Your Gun continued to astoud – so much so that it was re-christened Annie Get Your Act Together.

At Shenton’s View Mark Shenton discussed the questions that the launch of Love Never Dies failed to answer. But not – WHY? For the love of God, why?

At the Guardian Theatre Blog Lyn Gardner sent out a plea for more Rupert Goolds in British theatre. Goold had me at his production of Six Characters in Search of an Author which delighted me more than almost anything I saw in the first few months of living in London. Also if we are to go by his photo on Gardner’s blog then he also has rather impressive hair. So winning all round.

At View From The Stalls there was Shakespeare aplenty in Lend Me Your Ears.

At West End Whingers it was third time unlucky for Annie Get Your Gun and, well, you should just go and read as it’s the Whingers doing what they do best.