The Whispering Wood

Welcome to the Whispering Wood.

In our performance tonight, it’s a clearing where two bands of roving actors meet, and find themselves competing to tell the best tale. In real life, it reflects an age-old English tradition of travelling theatre that we’ve supported for the last twenty years, entertaining people from Coulsdon and beyond with our open air productions. This isn’t the first time we’ve performed folk and fairy-tale based plays, having previously stage ‘Grimm Tales’ in 2003 and ‘More Grimm Tales’ in 2006. But many of tonight’s stories will probably be less familiar to you. Our author, Lucy-Ann Martin, has always been fascinated by folk tales, and she spent a year reading several hundred of them from cultures all over the globe, while travelling the world herself. She then collected her favourites and ended up with more than sixty possible tales to included in a performance. We’ve whittled these down to the final dozen or so stories that we’ll perform for you this evening. They come from all over the planet. Some are many hundreds of years old, some are far more recent, but what is amazing is just how universal the themes are.

Storytelling is a skill and a challenge we relish, and the perfect way (we thought!) to make sure the production was truly innovative was to arrange the telling of the tales as being part of a competition. The Great North Players taking on the Little Sackville Players, each trying their utmost to amuse and entertain you and ultimately gain your favour. A vote for whichever group of players did best will take place at the end of the evening, and you, the audience, will decide the outcome!

First a few thanks though. To Jeannie Lewis, who has for the second year running led the choice and arrangement of all the live music you’ll hear tonight. She and her husband Keith will be playing live at every performance, along with Simeon Dawes and Ryan Newby, just as musicians would have done in times long past. Thanks too for Jenny Moorcroft who designed the programme for us. And finally thanks to you, the audience, for coming and supporting us. Every play is a contract between the audience and the actors, this one a little more explicitly than most, perhaps. And we sincerely hope you enjoy it!

 

R.U.R.

When idealistic young Helena Glory arrives at the remote island headquarters of Rossum’s Universal Robots (R.U.R.) with vague ideas about liberating the robots the company manufactures from their lives of enforced servitude, she is unprepared for what she finds. Overwhelmed by the almost evangelistic Harry Domain, she remains on the island, and inadvertently sews the seeds of her and mankind’s destruction…

Written by Čapek in 1920 and set at the end of the 20th Century, ‘R.U.R.’ premiered not on the stage in Prague as was originally intended, but with an amateur group in the far smaller town of Hradec Králové in January 1921. Ahead of its time in its depiction of human-like artificial beings, Čapek’s play introduced the word ‘Robot’ into the English language, derived from the Czech word ‘robota’ which means ‘forced labour’. In their creation, assembled from artificial bones, flesh and organs rather than mechanical parts, we would more likely refer to them as androids, or even (borrowing from Philip K Dick’s ‘Blade Runner’) ‘replicants’. The script was translated into English by Paul Selver later in 1921, and adapted for the stage by Nigel Playfair the following year, but it was far from faithful to the original. Many lines were cut, others added, a robot character removed entirely and his lines given to another. This version, or something similar to it, debuted in New York in October 1922 (featuring, in his Broadway debut, actor Spencer Tracy), and at St Martin’s Theatre in London in April 1923. Čapek complained that his original ending had been suppressed. It would not be until 1989 that a new unabridged translation, by Claudia Novack-Jones would actually appear,

Paul Ford’s first foray into directing also saw him tentatively try to adapt the script for a more modern audience. He started with a 1973 imported American edition of the script, by the Washington Square Press, of the Selver/Playfair adaptation and it was clear that what might have made sense in 1923 was jarring over sixty years on. (Dr Helman, practically the last man standing and desperately shoring up a barricade against the coming army of robot insurgents hears an explosion and says ‘The damned rascals, they’ve got bombs.’ with not so much as an exclamation mark to indicate shock or urgency.) Changes were made, but as the comments of the critic attest, he could have and should have been bolder in his alterations. However, the production did provide a showcase for the remarkable talents of Mark Taylor, who composed here a full original music score for the show, the first time he had done so, as well as performing on stage as Dr Gall.