Saturday, 30 May 2015
Part Of The Sum (Flash! Friday)
Construction of the Statue of Liberty's Pedestal CC2.0 photo by National Parks Service, Statue of Liberty c.1875 (via Flash! Friday)
Part Of The Sum
One set of skinned knees in shorts. Two long socked legs hop – jump – skip. Year Three of six, added to, equalling Eleven
Plus. Percentages determine geography’s
equation, history recorded. Divided, two
part - their sum presently unknown. One
minus one is one.
Two promise as one, united faithful before their countless
congregated. Twinned rings are exchanged,
separate inscriptions catching the light.
Confetti mingles afterwards amidst her dark hair. Three tiers of carefully constructed
confectionery stand tall mid table by evening.
Two added are one.
Three form from two - wails announcing his arrival. Paired smiles contrast with intermittent cries,
interspersed with sleepy silence.
Blankets swaddle tiny tufts sprouting from an as yet misshapen
head. He is held two armed, encircled by
four. Two multiplied is three.
Two stand as one, dark clad arms holding each other, apart
from a crowd. Four trickling lines of
moisture glisten across their faces, as they stand before a lone marble tablet
bearing two dates, mere digits apart.
Two minus one leaves two.
One faces one, the table separating them. He puts his pen to the paper, scrawling. “I’m can’t anymore,” he says. Brow furrowed, she shakes her head – pauses -
signs - without meeting his gaze.
Divided, two part. One minus one
is one.
Comment
A 210 word piece for this week's Flash! Friday, which had to incorporate the above photo prompt and the theme of "defeat". This one proved quite tricky to write, given each paragraph had to be exactly 42 words long to allow for the deliberate increase and then decrease in number from paragraph one through to five to add to the sense of loss at the conclusion.
Such Stuff As Dreams Were Made On? (Treading The Boards)
Such Stuff As Dreams Were Made On? – Associate Director Nick
Bagnall’s vision of the Athenian Court versus woodland magic proves to be a
sinister and enchanting realisation in one of the latest offerings from the
Liverpool Everyman.
From the start of Bagnall’s contemporary, innovative
interpretation of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, it is clear the audience will
see a world of mischief and wonder appear before their eyes in a production
which places firm emphasis on the darker aspects of the text.
Cynthia Erivo’s trapeze artist Puck appears from above clad as
Master of Ceremonies to introduce us to proceedings and cast her sparkling wand-slim
cane to display a predominantly bare stage backed by a graffiti scrawled
blackboard. Soon enough, the stage widens
to transform from Athenian public school and grey uniforms to paperwork forest
– its floor littered with discarded leaves constructed from the abandoned
homework or note passing musings of the student lovers, played by Emma Curtis
and Charlotte Hope (making their stage debuts) and recent graduates Tom Varey
and Matt Whitchurch.
Cleverly, the woodland floor is backed by a circus-like hall
of mirrors, creating the illusion of an extended dream forest cast back into
the audience’ eye and literal reflection in a play rife with imagery concerning
appearance and reality. The trickery
continues as, later, the woodland fairies appear unannounced from beneath the
papers – once again playing with our perceptions.
Transformation, too, is key to the inspired use of the paper
littered stage, as the scrunched leaves become bedding and blankets surrounding
the characters as they slumber – the rustling, crunching noise as they shift
whilst being reassembled adding an auditory aspect to the suggestion of the natural
world we, as audience, inhabit.
The presentation of Hermia and Lysander and Helena and
Demetrius as gym slip lovers is an interesting one, given it provides an
alternative, more modern, explanation for the irrational infatuation induced by
the love potions and sense of emotion (at the hands of the darkly mischievous
Puck) wielding control over the teenagers, who are literally and figuratively
helpless whilst its spell remains cast over them. Careless crushes rule – proving fleeting and
easily discarded once the initial intense flood of hormones fades. Meanwhile, “Midsummer Madness” abounds –
complete with hissy hits and rivalry between the partner switching couples. Happily, the energy needed to convey the
jealous conflict amidst the mischievous misunderstandings proves easy to
conjure for the young actors.
Contrary to some interpretations of Robin Goodfellow, there
is little of the jester about Erivo’s dark and predominantly black-clad Puck,
who makes solemn sport of the task of tormenting the teenagers. Here, too, the pervading use of black and
white costuming (Puck in black, the beleaguered – and innocent - teenagers in
lighter whites and greys) adds to the overarching sense of the dream world into
which we have been conducted courtesy of Puck’s cane at the outset. Into this are added the sinister midnight
hooded woodland fairies – sprites without discernible faces, reminiscent both
of masked (and threatening) intruders and suggestive of the lack of visual
clarity and confusion capable of being created mid-sleep. Clearly, the couples are caught in the throws
of a nightmare from which they can be released only once it has run its course. Thus, the pervading sense of menace increases.
Whilst Dean Nolan makes the most of comic opportunity in his
booming Blessed Bottom, who proves energetic enough to perform an almost
perfect (and definitely impressive) on stage splits, his character, too, is
subject to nightmarish transformation, donning a spectral, equine skull visually
reminiscent of the legendary midwinter Grey Mare – a genuinely shocking sight
as he rises from the paper piles he has previously been hidden by.
By the time the characters spin in circles at the conclusion
of the play, their frenzied dancing parodying the off-kilter surfacing from
dream to reality, we, too, welcome the return to the world of the concrete from
that of dark dream and illusion.
However, even post conclusion, we are left with the overwhelming sense
that, though the couples may have escaped their woodland nightmares, there
cannot be a happy ending for all. Here,
Curtis’ sulky Helena’s refusal to walk with Demetrius infers that any illusions
she may have had concerning her now partner have been removed in her eyes,
leaving disenchantment in their wake.
Whilst a departure from general interpretations at the denouement, this
adds a suitably shadowy note to the concluding Act – suggesting that sometimes
what we want is not necessarily best long-term, if we but knew it. A suitably adult lesson learnt by the young
girl, perhaps. Thus, we leave slightly unsettled
in the wake of our interlude in the company of the cast – a final trick to
leave us wondering about reality and its permutations as we depart.
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