Megan's Head

A place where Megan gets off her head.

Tag: The Deep Red Sea (Page 1 of 2)

A delightful and cheery end of year light

Last night we performed our final ImproGuise pop up improv show of the year at the Drama Factory in Somerset West. It’s also one of the last shows to perform in the old Drama Factory before it moves a few units down into a bigger space. Sue Diepeveen is one of my theatre heroes, going it alone in that neck of the woods with her fierce and independent little theatre; doing the marketing, front of house, and even jumping in to do our lights at short notice. She has more energy than a teenage party goer, more staying power than super glue, and she is a fabulous actor and director in her own right. Next year I will definitely be performing The Deep Red Sea there, and hopefully, I will be able to do more work there in general.

We also performed our signature format of TheatreSports last night, and we were a team of mixed oldies and newbies. It was so much fun, and there was singing, accents, emotions, story, and lots of corpsing by me.

It’s a great thing to have done as my last outing on stage for 2019.

In comparison to the rest of the year which has had me working in fits and starts, this last month has been full, and rewarding with work. I hope this sets the tone for 2020, where projections are looking pretty good. I don’t want to jinx it, so no details here yet, but I am excited.

I feel them like nagging pilot fish…

these new thoughts of nameless frustration. This is a quote from The Deep Red Sea. I love it, even if I say so myself (as my granny Janie would say).

I am surrounded by nagging pilot fish at the moment. They are the prickle of ideas that have not solidified into things yet.

They are social media and the irritating little nibbles they take out of my brain and time that I just can’t seem to shake.

They are the edgy rasp of global politics that are part nauseating horror and part nauseating almost excitement. Is the world really changing? Everywhere is on fire and people are protesting, from Lebanon to Hong Kong to Chile. People have had enough. A tide could be, may be turning as the terrifying, terrified last dictators stamp their feet and dig their heels deeper. Are people booing at the clown they made or are they distracted as Pennywise takes hold? Or are these more nagging pilot fish? Do most people in the world want to stay as they are because change is even more terrifying than the hell that is known?

I watch things on Netflix with titles like The End of the F***ing World. Imagine that. I watch same sex sex on TV while our own politician tells us to mind our own business when homosexuality is criminalised and given a death sentence by our neighbours. Twitter hate explodes, reverses, twists in on itself, hates the hater. Words bite, burn and heal.

White people deny concepts rather than things and are hurt by the ideas of White Fragility and White Tears, more than the real lived experience of black people, who must be the other every day in a country where they are not the other.

Slaves are bought and sold. Animals are food. Vegans and climate change activists are lampooned. Billionaires are crying about having to pay tax. There is a lobby, a lobby ffs, that has successfully sold the false notion that Pro-Palestine means anti-Semitism.

In the meantime a man is 3D printing limbs for people without limbs. A schoolgirl stands against grown men in the world and makes her voice heard. Chickens run to get hugs from boys. And tiny stories of love, friendship, defiance and bonding float to the surface like blown kisses.

The Deep Red Sea, part 14 – making it to shore

Last night was the final performance of our 5 night run of The Deep Red Sea at the Alexander Bar. I loved getting the piece onto stage, and am absolutely convinced it has a life beyond, and now I need to start thinking about what that looks like.

A 5 show run is literally a chance to test the water. And because the Alexander Bar space is in flux, it wasn’t the smoothest time for the show technically, so after those five performances it feels like we are now ready for a full run.

Tandi Buchan, my most generous, innovative and clever director could feel it too. A longer rehearsal process would have given us a chance to fine tune the piece that is already so fiercely determined by the poetry of the words.

But, Jane Rademeyer definitely raised the bar with her original compositions for the soundscape. She also came to the rescue and operated sound for the show, in a space that needed more hands on deck.

I was touched by how touched people were by the show, particularly the writing, and it has given me licence to think about how to take it further. Festivals? Overseas? All of this needs to be thought about. And I am excited.

I would love this post to be an interactive space to talk about the show, if you saw it. What did you think? What would you like to see it become?

Thoughts on asking for Money

It took everything I had to ask for money to help me get to Jersey City for the reading of Lost Property. I am still trying to unpack why crowd funding made me feel a certain shame. As if I needed charity.

But the desire to go there and represent my work; read it myself, propelled me out of shame and into a shy proudness. And, of course, the process exceeded my expectations. Family, close friends, and even acquaintances helped in big and small amounts and I managed to reach my dream target (which will more than pay for my ticket and production costs in the US). I also managed to do this in a record 4 days. I can’t believe it, and I am overflowing with gratitude and amazement.

So, what I am taking away with me today, and taking with me when I go, and what I will bring back, is that there are people who believe in me. They believe in my work, words, and theatre making. This feeling I am now allowing to permeate into everything I do, and it is no mystery that the flow gates are opening.

I am working more, and dreaming more and making more. I am manifesting and visualising and excited and energised. Watch this space.

Or watch me. The Deep Red Sea comes to the Alexander Bar on 20 and 21 May, just before I leave on the 22nd.

PS. A weird, convoluted, heartfelt bow to Pieter Howes. In the strangest, and most uncomfortable of ways we saw each other. I am sorry the world wasn’t a good place for you to be in.

Good News

Today has been a really good day from a creative point of view. There have been a series of signs that I am moving in a positive direction – not totally there yet, but moving certainly. I am working my way through getting funding for my trip to the US so I can be at the reading of my play Lost Property at the end of May, and I am preparing for a reading of it here at home before I leave (watch this space for more news of that). I am gearing up for the first ever proper performances of my piece The Deep Red Sea on the 20, and 21 May at the Alexander Bar and Café, and I am preparing for teaching a series of classes and workshops. Also, my favourite thing happens next week, also at the Alexander Bar – we are improvising from Monday to Friday in The Style High Club, a series of long form improv shows dedicated to style – film noir, SA soap, Austen, movies and musical, all made up on the spot.

But the best news of the day is that my rhyming children’s story has been picked up by a really big publisher and I couldn’t be more thrilled. I will share all the details as they evolve, but right now I am grinning, and giggling and delighted.

The Deep Red (over)Sea(s)

Once again I must resort to the art of shameless self-promotion. You see, my one-person prose poem for performance, The Deep Red Sea, has been chosen for an American SWAN Day (Supporting Women Artists Now) readings showcase in in Washington DC that will take place on 31 March. It was chosen from 53 submissions and it will now get a professional director and performer working on it, and I am so chuffed.

I’ve had a hard time for a while, coming to grips with how hard it is for me (and my fellow South African theatre makers – those damn words again) to get our work up and running, and supported, and funded, and attended, and recognised at home. I must confess that I have been hanging on, waiting to hear about whether a project of mine has been accepted for something here, and I have gone through the five emotions of grief and loss and still not heard, so when good news and recognition comes from outside the country it has a double lovely flavour to it.

Obviously I won’t be able to go to Washington DC to see my play being staged. I’ll be doing some other less glamorous thing to bring in a few shekels. But it’s really nice to know that it’s happening.

Page 1 of 2

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén