Note: This is a cross-posting from Paul Holmquist’s “Neverwhat?” blog, chronicling his research for directing our spring MainStage production of Neverwhere.
I have been a tad neglectful in my blogging but not in my reading.
Here is a link to a fantastic article in the Guardian about Henry Beck, the who created the famous map (he would call it a diagram) of the London Underground.
Neverwhere makes use of the fact that London has so much beneath it. It is built on the remains of the earlier cities that were London past. it also has the intestines of the underground railway that wend their way underneath it.
I wanted to share a picture from Bath actually where the layers of civilizations have been excavated and coexist. Here you can see the Roman baths built after the displacement of early Celtic peoples and above you can see Bath Abbey looming in the background. In the Abbey, which was first Catholic and then after the dissolution of the monasteries Anglican, you can see the layers of tombs and memorial placards. The Abbey was bombed in World War II and only recently were renovations completed. I indulge in this digressive story about Bath because it illustrates the layers of history, religion, geography and human experience compressed into a single space. It is the compression of London Below. London Below still has Roman soldiers and black friars. It hasn’t forgotten the history merely added to it. I can only imagine that those early Roman soldiers must have been so happy to have found the magical hot waters of Bath having left their warm climate to travel in this strange, cold, and to them god-forsaken country. Being able to build baths like they had at home at to feel amazingly civilized.
Speaking of compression I also wanted to share a bit more on the London Underground which is featured in Neverwhere. More specifically, the map of the London Underground which we know so well. This map (diagram)was designed by Henry Beck and it was a leap forward in map making. Beck realized that a map of the underground did not need to show actual distances but the relative positions of the of the stations along a route. All maps in someway alter reality. They are smaller than the thing they claim to represent. They leave out details. The exaggerate the shape of Greenland so that they can show a round globe on a flat surface. I have always found maps fascinating because they hint at something not seen at that moment strange places. In Neverwhere, these places are strange places but they are also more what you would imagine if you were just reading a map. Shouldn’t Blackfriars have black friars?
In addition to this the Underground does have closed stations that are not used and it makes you wonder what might be there. Much in the way that early map makers put monsters on the edges of the map where they were uncertain what might be there. At the edges of the earth at the edges of reality you might fall off the map. You might meet monsters.
This is perhaps why the places one visits in Neverwhere feel so real, or at least possible even while feeling magical and impossible. We’ve seen these places on a map or at least imagined them. Like the Roman soldiers that arrived in Bath and London these places were off the map and full of monsters. That is why it is so exciting to go with Richard off the edges of the map.
Note: This is a cross-posting from Paul Holmquist’s “Neverwhat?” blog, chronicling his research for directing our spring MainStage production of Neverwhere.
… my mother wrote the following to me in an email response to the previous blog entry and I want to share it, it’s good…
Is it too simplistic to think this is a coming-of-age story for Richard? Although plenty old enough in years, Richard starts the story awfully immature in all the areas you mentioned (responsibility, self-direction, purpose, etc.) He (to an almost self-destructive effect) allows his dreaminess, his not paying attention to the real life of a grown up, to sabotage the things he does believe he values–Jessica, for one. In a way, to me, he starts out as a Boy.
Because of his Good Heart (he certainly does not seem to be thinking, deliberating, choosing), acting on instinct only, on “a feeling” only, he rescues Door. A more grown-up “old” man would not have done this. Jessica (as I recall) has a list of sensible alternatives to get the girl cared for and the two of them on with their adult life full of adult plans and responsibilities. Grown-up men cannot risk behavior like Richard’s–to scoop up in your arms a strange girl from off the street (strange, dirty girl) walk away from your fiancé and install this girl in your bachelor apartment. Once done, this simple act starts him off on a quest from which there is no return.
Coming-of-age is also a no-return deal. You just relentlessly forge ahead, meet those various demons and challenges, some of them disguised, to cope with and conquer as best you can. In the very end, he cannot return to his former hum-drum paper-pushing life because it is a Boy’s life and he is now a Man.
In the back of the book there’s a short interview with NG in which he says that this story is a lot about the homeless people in London and that the Underground was always going to be the setting. He also says “I wanted to write a story about someone growing up and changing.” and this really makes the story very meaningful to me.
Note: This is a cross-posting from Paul Holmquist’s “Neverwhat?” blog, chronicling his research for directing our spring MainStage production of Neverwhere.
Been a while since I posted - sorry for that. I’ve been enjoying some R&R after the holidays and simply marinating on some things, reading and making notes.
Under the tree for me this year was “Prince of Stories: The Many Worlds of Neil Gaiman” which is a passionate guide to Gaiman’s work published before Fall 2008. A great reference of the behind the scenes development of the man’s career and just a fun read. In it I learned that Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar make an appearance in “Mr. Punch” which means I must stop by my local comic shop and investigate.
On Saturday the 2nd, Maren and I went to the Art Institute of Chicago to visit the collection of Victorian photo-collage art that recently passed through, our interest sparked by the art of the music video costume designer Elizabeth Wislar shared with me a few months back. Ultimately the art is not relevant to our production values but was an illuminating immersion into the bizarre and fantastic minds of the idle Victorian woman, influenced heavily by Darwin and Lewis Carrol.
Last Wednesday I had a fascinating chat with Rob over some beers and BBQ. He’s in the midst of some thinking and pondering on the script before diving into more writing probably in February he shared with me notes and thoughts and ideas from feedback given to him after our reading a few weeks ago. Our discussions continue to delve deeper into Richard’s character arc; where is he at the beginning, where is his shift, and where does he end up. There is something very interesting to me about Richard being a blithe participant in the modern cultural machine, a cog, a brick in the wall, at the beginning of the play. He’s absent minded and doesn’t seem to be able to make any long term goals. He has no vision and little purpose. As he gets wrapped up into the adventures of London Below, he continues to go along with what’s demanded of him, more or less with bravery but without much personal investment. He feels somehow deep inside that he must intervene and protect Door when and where he can. When he loses Anesthesia on Night’s Bridge, he experiences what may be his first profound sense of responsibility. Further trust and emotional investment and even vulnerability with Door deepen his personal connection to the quest before him and in The Ordeal Of The Key there is a deeper, more radical shift.
What The Ordeal is, what it actually symbolizes and provides for Richard, has been a challenge for Rob and I to articulate. There is a tricky combination of Richard struggling with his sense of what is Real vs. what is Imagined and his being urged to off himself. What he ultimately wins, besides the key, is a grounding - he feels more deeply and truly that he has purpose and that he is Doing The Right Thing. And he gains that knowledge by rediscovering Anesthesia’s necklace and confronting that guilt and loss. He then becomes something of a leader, more confident, less whiny.
Fighting the Great Beast of London is the next evolution of Richard’s character, but one I wonder if it may be even more felt later, when Richard returns to London Above. At that point in the story, when Hunter dies and passes a torch of sorts to Richard, he must quickly go forward to complete the quest. Time is of the essence and self-reflection is a luxury he cannot afford. But when he finally gets what he’s been wanting all along, like Dorothy, to just go home again, he’s left feeling deeply dissatisfied. At the moment of killing the Great Beast and painting its blood on his face, he becomes The Warrior. How could he go back to paper pushing then?
Our next production meeting is coming soon. Between now and then I am:
1. rereading the script and pondering the logistics of the transitions and what they may mean tech wise
2. considering the many pros and cons of using liquid blood on stage - a HUGE question
3. investigating the use of puppets (rats, pigeons and the Great Beast) and thinking logistically of which actor will do what and how should they be seen, what are they in the world when they are manipulating a puppet
Note: This is a cross-posting from Paul Holmquist’s “Neverwhat?” blog, chronicling his research for directing our spring MainStage production of Neverwhere.
Before the year comes to a close I am excited to share with you the news of the last weekend. On Saturday the 19th our production team met for our first Production Meeting. Then on Sunday the 20th the cast assembled to read Rob’s latest draft of the script, which has gone under some revision in the past month through banter between him and I.
A Production Meeting, in case it needs explaining, is a gathering of all the designers involved in the play, the writer, director, assistant director and production manager, and occasionally the artistic director of the company producing the play is there too to have a greater idea of how all resources will be used in realizing this sprawling urban fantasy. We all sit in a circle and after confirming details like dates, rehearsal schedules and deadlines, we start a creative discussion of all the aspects of the script that require that special art of stagecraft to do.
The theatrical medium is uniquely different than movies/television. We take the arts of sound and lighting design, the technologies of craft and sculpture and flash animation projection, the textile fashion creative art of costume design, the creative architectural magic of scenic design, the thoughtful and exciting passion of combat choreography and the inspiration of puppet techniques to try to create a cohesive world that will help us tell the story of NEVERWHERE. There were 12 of us in the room and for about four hours we bantered over everything. From the look and feel of the costuming to the use of projections to create mood and atmosphere. We always struggle with budget and scope and think out loud on how to creatively work around a our resource limits to fit the storytelling we are all so motivated to get right. It takes a group of very smart and experienced people, all of whom must be motivated by the play itself as well as inspired by their contribution to the whole, and I am overjoyed to say this meeting illustrated how right this group of collaborators is for this production. When you come to NEVERWHERE on Lifeline’s “postage stamp” sized stage, you will be transported to another world.
Sunday’s reading was terrifically exciting as well. My job as director involves wrangling the various gifts of the designers into a cohesive whole as well as casting the show and guiding those actors to perform their lines and move in a way that effectively conveys the emotional and grippingly adventurous through line of the quest. Again, all in the room are enthusiastic and engaged by the material and bring a wealth of experience, intelligence, passion and imagination to their work. Hearing it read aloud is such an exciting thing, you feel the beginnings of something incredibly special going on. After the reading, many of the cast stuck around to talk about the script, ask questions about it, wonder aloud at plot points and give Rob some things to think about as he makes another revision before we start rehearsal. One of my joys was being present when stage directions (those parts of a script that aren’t character lines but describe Rob’s vision on how special effects are staged) were read. My assistant director Jessica would read something along the lines of “She walks to a bookshelf with her hand outstretched. A small panel on the side swings open and DOOR reaches inside. She pulls out a sphere of brass and wood, polished copper and glass. She picks up a small platform from the desk and places the sphere atop it. The sphere begins to spin and a beam of light projects onto a nearby wall.” and everyone would start laughing at me - it is apparently very funny to them that I will have to somehow make this happen.
I can’t help but smile, sure there are demands in signing on to steer a ship this big and wild, but it feels right, and I am in a comfortable place to be filled with questions and wonderment over answers. Something my mom mentioned to me yesterday (she just read the book) is that quest stories speak to all of us because they magnify something very universal. We all face challenges not knowing whether fortune or fate will make us fly or fall in our endeavor. We chose to go outside and face a world that can be dangerous, we take risks and go on quests every day. That’s what makes us rock stars.
I’m proud to be a member of this team of rock stars and wish you all a very safe and splendiferous New Year of bold choices and risky adventures.
The Last of the Dragons opened this weekend! We’ve got songs, sword fights, a talking parrot and — of course — a DRAGON! Oh yes, we totally have a dragon. The story calls for a 70-foot beast and Lifeline only has a 26 foot stage, but that did not deter our dragon-maker, Joanna Iwanicka, because she is brilliant as well as intrepid. Our dragon is gorgeous, ginormous and nimble: he fights, too.
Joanna Melville (yes, another Joanna — we had two amazing Joannas on the team) also had a challenging path. As always with Lifeline shows, we have several people playing multiple parts, making quick changes with very specific costume demands. David Fink plays three different characters (two of them animals) and Anne Sears mus
t be elegantly attired as a princess on her wedding day — and then run, leap, dive, roll and wield a broadsword. Yes, a broadsword! Do you know how much those weigh? We’re all very impressed with Anne, who is a heck of a fighter. But — the dress! It is one powerful, flexible and stain-resistant yet gorgeous gown that Joanna M. has crafted for our princess with the mad fight skillz!
I’m also super geeked about the music in the show. Mikhail Fiksel has composed a really catchy score and the CDs are flying off the concession stand. You can check out a video clip of the Fight the Dragon song here.
All three shows were packed this weekend, plus we had a special event. Between shows on opening day, there was a sword-fighting demonstration upstairs led by fight choreographer (and adaptor) for the show, David Gregory Bareford. That was something no one wanted to miss. Every single person from the sold-out 1am show went straight upstairs to watch. David and fight partner Matthew Bartels kindly did the demo twice so that we could accommodate the incoming 1pm crowd as well.
Like most of our KidSeries shows, this one is appealing to adults as well. And it’s under an hour! I hope you will come and visit us.
Lifeline emeritus ensemble member Eric Lane Barnes making splashes across the nation
It has been 10 years since Eric left Chicago for Seattle to become the assistant artistic director of and composer for the prestigious Seattle Men’s Chorus. You can check out all that he’s doing and his ginormous catalogue of musical compositions and the recent feature article on him by Seattle Magazine at his website, www.ericlanebarnes.com. Lifeline KidSeries fans will be pleased to know that the kids’ shows that Eric created at Lifeline Theatre continue to play across the nation. Remember these goodies…?
The Amazing Bone
Adapted from the book by William Steig (Shrek, Doctor DeSoto) The Amazing Bone was originally presented at Lifeline Theatre in 1997. It follows Pearl the pig and her adventures with a magic, talking bone. If you happen to be in California in January, you can see it at the Morgan-Wixson Theatre in Santa Monica.
Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel
Adapted from the book by Virginia Lee Burton, Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel premiered at Lifeline Theatre in 1998 and was remounted here in 2003. It was toured by TheatreWorksUSA and has been performed by several notable children’s theater companies in the USA. Know anyone who might be in North Carolina this winter? Look for the Children’s Theatre of Charlotte’s production February.
Simple Jim and His Four Fabulous Friends
An original creation by Eric Lane Barnes, this 3-person tour-de-force was a big success at Lifeline, where it was first performed in 1999 and then remounted by Lifeline in Chicago Department of Cultural Affairs’ Storefront Theatre in 2002. There are no current productions of this piece… but we’ll keep you posted when it next hits the road!
We had a really fun subscriber/donor event on Sunday. The theater was swept completely bare and everyone who walked in said, “Whoa! I’ve never seen the space empty before.” It was a fleeting state, so don’t rush over to see. Monday morning began the load-in for The Last of the Dragons. The season marches on!
As usual, we had wine and cheese and other yummies. We had 30 subscriber/donors attend and we got an unusually intimate peek at the rehearsal process of Mrs. Caliban. Ann had the cast performing physical improvisations in pairs, based on three words they’d chosen that characterize their stage relationships. This was totally fascinating and great fun. The audience got to guess the relationship words the actors had chosen and the guesses were dead on, which tickled all involved. Then we heard some scenes read and a lengthy discussion followed. Many thanks to cast members Peter, Brenda, Jenifer, Dan and Monica, as well as Frances, Ann and Stephanie for allowing us to look inside their process.
Several folks have asked me for text copies of a short piece I performed at the recent City Lit 30th Anniversary Benefit (some of it originally written/performed for The Callback, a radio show podcast out of Strawdog Theatre back in 2007). I am perplexed. I have no idea if a performance piece will work as an essay… But I am glad to share it:
What’s my deadline?
When I sit down to write… I need a little treat. I need a little reward for sitting down to write. I also need to set up the scene: a real writer would be sitting at the computer with a cup of coffee. Or a scotch. Yes, a real writer would have a scotch. But I don’t like scotch. I’ll have a glass of wine. Yeah… this looks good now.
I bet I could write if I wasn’t hungry. I should make a little snack and then I’ll be able to focus. Except who could write in the middle of this mess? I’m not going to be able to concentrate until I clean the apartment.
I know a lot of artists who are self-starters. Artists who produce work even though no one is making them do it. My dad was that kind of artist. He was a painter. He’d come home from a long day at work, eat dinner and then sigh, “Well, I guess I better go paint.” Like someone was making him — but no one was! He was painting because he wanted to. Or even when he didn’t want to, something inside him was making him do it.
When I was a kid, whenever we had guests over my mom would whisper “Keep an eye on your father,” because sometimes he would disappear. He would run down to the basement for an extra chair for a guest and wouldn’t come back. He had passed his workstation where that landscape was not turning out as he hoped. And it’s not that he’d reject the party — he’d forget it was up there. He had no reason to be in the basement but to fix the sky.
I get that. I understand sudden inspiration and the pull just taking you from wherever you are. But in truth — I don’t have inspirations or pulls – unless the press release has gone out and I’ll have to return ticket money if I don’t finish the project. But my Dad could say, “I guess I better go paint.” And then be able to do it! No deadline! I so admire artists that have that thing in them that drives them and makes them create. I don’t have that thing.
One of the many features that is wonderful about theater is the deadlines. If you’re acting or directing or writing or designing for a show, then it’s going to happen. If you’re ready or not, if it’s good or not — that train will be leaving the station. You can only explore and experiment and start over and delay decisions for so long and then you just have to do something — because the audience is coming. I love that about theater. With any creative project, you can always make it better. But better is the enemy of done.
For years I wanted to write but I could never finish anything. I’d barely even start. I’d write a page or so and it would suck so I’d stop. But the first time I committed to creating a show and it was put on a theater’s calendar… then the fear of producing Crap was replaced by the greater fear of showing up empty handed… of being in breach of contract… and then I had no trouble producing work.
The only thing that makes me finish a show is having a gun held to my head. Otherwise I just keep making it better.
Yes, I’d love to create a little something for your show… What’s my deadline?
Note: This is a cross-posting from Paul Holmquist’s “Neverwhat?” blog, chronicling his research for directing our spring MainStage production of Neverwhere.
It should be no surprise that a major part of my visiting London involved a growing fascination with the London Underground. I tried to catch as many pictures and ogle the tile work of the tube stations I visited as much as possible without blocking pedestrian traffic. Sadly for me, London Transport officials have stopped allowing public tours of the derelict stations, of which DownStreet was high on my wish list. But I wandered happily around where I could, paid a visit to the richly curated London Transport Museum (where I bought the souvenir you see above) and I recently watched for the last time The Story of London’s Underground, the cheesy 2006 doc I’ve had on loan from Netflix for over a month. The music is annoying and the presentation grainy but the information is fascinating to someone who’s a little fanatical about finding bits of history about the London Underground.
In as early as 1800 London was the largest city in the world. In the early years, horse was the only way to get around and traffic congestion was a huge problem. A commission started in 1855 looked at the problem of traffic congestion and one of the members of the commission, solicitor Charles Pearson, saw public transport as a way to clear London slums and get the poverty stricken, disease ridden populace into safe, affordable homes. At the end of the Crimean War, parliament voted public money for a vast network of sewers, fearing the city would not survive without them. Thus begins a new London under ground. Cholera practically disappeared and London engineers began to lead the world in tunneling.
The horse driven bus first enabled London to grow outwards but by the 1840’s London had grown beyond an hour’s ride to the city center. The arrival and development of the steam rail by 1829 didn’t solve anything, because the main railways wanted to build their termini as close to the city center as possible. A commission early on decided that railways couldn’t build too close to the city center because of the destruction of property that involved. As a result, they came in to a periphery of the city so that people arrived into London by train and immediately wanted to go elsewhere, which meant either by foot or by horse drawn cab. So the railways brought more and more people to London and actually made the congestion worse. Pearson’s idea was to connect the mainline railway stations with a new system, the issue being how to build it when London was so built up. Money was raised and work actually started by cut and cover tunneling - dig a trench, put a railway at the bottom and here and there roof it over so that property could be restored on top. Today’s Maryleborne and Euston roads cover the first section of tunneling. In many cases they did actually have to purchase property and demolish it.
Steam was the only viable technology present to propel the trains and they had areas of open tunnels to allow the steam and smoke to escape. A condensing engine was developed to consume its own smoke but it took some revising. The 1866 engine for the Metropolitan Railway was the most successful first development, used until 1905. In 1864 the Met started to issue workman’s fares - costing less for the skilled working class to move out of the center to Hammersmith, Waterloo. The system was the first classless public transport with no classification for seating.
The construction of new suburbs did not take place as rapidly as Pearson envisioned while the slums were being torn down and the central tunneling of the Met didn’t really extend outwards as much as envisioned meaning it didn’t solve the congestion as much as it was hoped to because the lines circumnavigated the city center. The concept was okay but clearly the cut and cover record wasn’t working and was too expensive. They needed to find a new engineering method.
Marc Brunel constructed the Thames Tunnel, a 20 year long financial disaster, started off an engineering process of a tunneling shield held back the walls while the tunnel was bricked off. He succeeded at building the tunnel eventually but his technique, developed by James Henry Greathead and William Henry Barlow, using hydraulics, would erect an iron lining behind the shield advancing the tunnel by 13 feet a day. The fact that beneath the city was there was a huge bed of clay, made this kind of tunneling possible.
Propelling trains still being a problem that deep under ground, steam powered cable hauling was tried but in 1888 an inventor and engineer named Frank Sprague proved that a number of trains could be run simultaneously by electric motor in Richmond, Virginia. First everything was built too small to make enough money, the first effective tubeline ran from the city out to Shepard’s Bush. Infamous financieer, CharlesTysonYerkes arrived in London from Chicago to persuade the Americans to finance a plan to further the underground by 1907, providing electrification and the building of a number of new lines.
The new system had a distinct marketing problem asking pedestrians to feel that going underground was safe, clean, easily accessible and sensible. Frank Pick lead the charge on developing a bold marketing move across the board. The use of high quality graphic design was established, with new artists and traditional designers creating beautiful poster art advertising the system. A new typeface was commissioned in 1916 and the Bar and Circle logo was developed. Charles Holden created a functional and marketable design for new stations utilizing the logo design that was also highly functional. And in 1933, a man named Henry Beck designed a map of the underground system some say revolutionized the way the public perceived the system (though not all agree).
Investors in the development of the underground were also investing in property in the green fields surrounding London, knowing that suburban development would soon follow. “MetroLand” was begun by Metropolitan Railway, given free reign to develop land as they wished, establishing ten huge estate near the railway, encouraging other developers and builders through 1933. The West End flourished thanks to public transport, what was once an upper class residential area without commercial business development welcomed big department stores, theaters and movie houses, creating a great draw for the public.
World War I saw the first use of the tube as a bomb shelter which returned in World War II. While some bombs did fall on stations and lines, people by the thousands would bring their families underground and lie there on the platforms through thesuspenseful nights. In 1942 some stations were converted into underground arsenals and munitions factories. Here’s a clip from the doc about that:
Note: This is a cross-posting from Paul Holmquist’s “Neverwhat?” blog, chronicling his research for directing our spring MainStage production of Neverwhere.
Being in London so close to Remembrance Day meant that the cultural heritage of war was very present. Everywhere you looked there were red “poppies” - signifiers of a society that shall not soon forget the devastating experience of violence in their City, in their communities. There are many families still living in the aftermath of World War II’s blitz, less than a generation after the Armistice that marks Remembrance Day.
I saw the National Theatre’s production of WAR HORSE at the New London Theatre and was heartbroken by the story. As enamored as I was by the production’s incredible use of Handspring’sarticulatepuppets, seeing the horror of World War I though the eyes of Joey and Albert, the British calvary and the German soldiers, the French peasants and British countrymen, made the story rich and evocatively emotional.
My personal experience of war is removed - I’ve not known one person in service to the United States Army, Navy or Air Force involved in any war. I haven’t been faced with the savage loss of living under siege, seeing my neighbors’ homes destroyed, my proud city burning, my family taken from me, my peers hurt by PTSD or loss of limb or brain injury. I am always fascinated in the culture of being British, due in no small part by my many experiences playing Brits and directing plays about them and the dramaturgy that accompanies this work. Also thanks to public television in the States broadcasting BBC television shows. Americans are somehow aware of a common idea of what it means to be a Brit, and like racism, this (to coin a phrase) culturalism is deeply rooted in prejudice and half truths. It incorporates a wry wit, a stalwart determination, stoicism, a “stiff upper lip” and any number of fill-in-the-blank ignorant assumptions about the stereotypes we use to isolate ourselves as different from Them. But we must acknowledge that there is a stark influence of violent war on the culture of the country and its people. The legacy of war in the attitudes and traditions of the populace is a direct and clear influence on the realites of being human in that community. And like humans all over the world, it is passed on, from parent to child, generation to generation.
