All the world’s a stage.
I haven’t spent so long in all my adult life confined to the same county, let alone the same place, as I have these last few months. Whilst the freedom that working in the arts affords for movement and exploration is not something I have ever taken for granted, being trammelled by circumstance has made me all the more appreciative of the wonderful places we have discovered over the years.
We travel in a little green van, which we affectionately call Grahame, after Grahame Greene the author of Brighton Rock. It’s decorated with quirky characters painted onto the sides and has a washing machine window at the back in which we hang posters of upcoming shows, sometimes complete with swimming puppet fish as it looks a little like a goldfish bowl! Perhaps it’s a throw back to when we used to travel with horses but whenever Grahame is struggling with steep hills after long journeys laden with props and tents we almost involuntarily start clicking our tongues and chivvying him on as if he were a gentle old gelding. So far it has worked like a charm!
As a rural touring theatre company Sabotage stage productions in all sorts of obscure places, both inside and out. In fact we’re so used to roaming off the beaten track that whilst we were on tour last year we found ourselves driving the van along an increasingly overgrown length of abandoned road. I was adamant we were on the right course, despite Zoe’s protestations from the driver’s seat, as I have come to associate Cornwall with narrow bends between wild hedgerows. I had been double checking our progress on a map. I am infinitely more fond of maps than of satellite navigation but in any case GPS tracking doesn’t cover the smaller roads in the area as they’re little more than gravel tracks. After a couple of minutes I was hit in the face by some shrubbery which had sprung through the open window as if to prove that we had reached the point of no return and I looked up to discover that Zoe really hadn’t been exaggerating about us needing to find another way!
We were just minutes from Carn Marth Ampitheatre, near Redruth. It is the site of an obsolete quarry and the Carn Marth trust work hard to preserve it as a place of natural interest and an intriguing theatre space for touring companies. They have power on site but everything else is brought in especially for the events that they put on.
From the top of the grass banked amphitheatre seating you can see out to sea, and if you follow another impassable track on foot up the hill you’ll discover far reaching coast to coast views, with the Irish sea in one direction and the English channel in the other. So it’s not the first place you’d imagine finding a surreal show complete with masks and puppets and musical instruments!
We camped out in the amphitheatre itself, sheltered by steep granite rock faces on three sides where birds of prey soar and play overhead. It really is a magical venue. It even has a moat between the grassy stage and the banks of seating! The acoustics were fantastic even though it’s such an exposed location, because voices and sounds echo off the stone and carry further than they ordinarily would. This allowed dozens of passing walkers to stumble upon us in the morning before the show as the company practiced singing and playing music to get a sense of the space. When performing with masks and puppets the actors have to work twice as hard to ensure their voices carry. It’s crucial to have an understanding of how best to use the environment around us to enhance the shows, especially as we don’t have our own microphones so only usually get to use these at bigger events and more established venues.
We had been warned to expect torrential weather so did what we could to protect our minimal technical equipment, raising things off the ground and running cables to a little tent pitched amongst the gorse from which to run our sound desk. We even donned our speakers with raincoats so they looked like additional characters from the show, in which our heroine’s father is a fisherman. Despite all our preparations we were blessed with an afternoon of the most glorious sunshine and “Cornish rain” has since become a euphemism amongst the company for the best of British summertime!
At some of the venues we travel to there are opportunities to make provision for the weather in advance. One of the woodlands we love returning to is Poulton Woods near Ashford in Kent. It is the site of a conservation project set within acres and acres of beautiful bluebell woods.
This wonderful area is managed by an enthusiastic team with additional help from the Poulton Wood Rangers. The rangers learn all about traditional woodland conservation and there are opportunities to complete City and Guilds training on site as well as for more focused learning for people with complex needs. They also engage in a range of woodland crafts and make all sorts of decorative signs and ornaments.
On more than one occasion when we have had a show scheduled at this lovely location the heavens have opened and we’ve had to improvise to ensure that our audience are as well protected from the weather as possible. We always advise bringing your wet weather gear and often your own seating when coming to a Sabotage shows as there’s no telling where you might find us. Fortunately there is an open sided barn at Poulton Woods so the first time that it rained heavily we were able to set up our dray - a cart without sides which doubled as a stage - at one open end so that we could arrange sheltered seating under the barn.
Before our most recent visit we went one step further and challenged the Wood Rangers to see if they could make a small stage within the barn itself. To our delight they did an incredible job. As a result we ended up having an impressive pop up theatre, complete with hay bales for seating and lighting rigged from the wooden beams overhead. It was such a splendid transformation. And sure enough when show day came along the rain was incessant so we were very grateful that we had some protection from the weather, especially for our papier-mâché puppets!
Sabotage visit both sites which have long been silent and places that are alive with engaging activities. We have also performed at places which combine elements of both such as The Weald and Downland museum. Set within the South Downs National Park it is a living museum where you can discover stories of how people lived and worked in the local countryside over the last thousand years. There is a collection of rural buildings which are conserved to house installations and exhibitions. It is yet another apt and atmospheric setting for the stories we bring to life.
The museum was one of the stops on our tour of ‘Owlers' which told the tale of the Aldington Gang of Smugglers who operated in 19th Century Kent along the coastline and across the Marsh and of the magical sisters who looked on from the lighthouse above the land. Perhaps not considered the most noble of career choices it’s surprising to learn just how dependent entire communities were on the contraband that smugglers came across and the income it afforded them. The aesthetics of the piece worked beautifully in amongst all the rural figures at the open air museum who were dressed in outfits from a similar era, albeit from more respected professions!
Art is always a reflection of life but the stories Zoe has written for Sabotage based around historical figures offer insights into long forgotten local folklore and characters from the coast and countryside. It’s lovely that the range of venues we tour to reflects the continuation of traditions that have been a cornerstone of rural life as it adds another dimension to the whole experience for our audiences. The issues the characters face resonate through the ages so it’s a unique way of learning more about those folks who have gone before. It’s also comforting - even more so in times of such uncertainty - to be reminded of how communities come together and how little has changed in regard to the simple things at the heart of living a rural life. It gives us hope to imagine what gatherings such places might see a hundred years from now and to wonder about the stories they might be sharing then.
Words by Zinta Gercans
