“A magical land!
Sophie Stone: I’ve spent most of my life in theater – from the workshops at Half Moon and The Unicorn as a kid to the West End as an adult, exploring my identity in amazing theatrical spaces. The place that gave me the belief, education, lifelong friendships and training that led me to audition for Rada is the magical land of the Watermill Theater in Newbury. I was a 12 year old deaf child who needed to get away from it all in an environment that allowed me to experiment, learn through play, make great mistakes and fine art. The building has broadened its reach and programming in recent years and still strives to accommodate its artists and audiences by offering closed captioning devices, signed performances, accessible workshops and opportunities – a small team that works incredibly hard to stand on the shoulders of giants deserves praise. he receives. I have memories of sharing the pension as a teenager; swim in the river that surrounds the theater in summer; come back to perform professionally; standing on the boards to read my very first commissioned writing concert; I am asked to be an associate artist and to make my voice heard. They don’t do tokenism – it’s at the very heart of what they believe in and because of that I trust them and I’m so proud to say that I started my career in their hands.
‘Low ceiling, big lights, a crowd ready to laugh’
Suzi Ruffell: One of the great joys of the comedian is traveling across the country to perform. Over the past decade, I have rarely spent a weekend at home. Usually I’m on different highways, mediocre coffee in hand, listening to a podcast about the murder. One of my favorite places to play has always been Birmingham Glee club. It has the perfect setup for the stand-up: a low ceiling, great lights and sound, and most importantly a large, laughing crowd. Over the years, I’ve gone from an open space on Thursday to closing on a Saturday night to selling the main venue on tour. Clubs like Glee are vital to the survival of live comedy. Every booth you’ve enjoyed on TV has passed through the comedy circuit and everyone you’ll enjoy in the future will learn their craft on these stages.
‘The stars were our limit’
Shobana Jeyasingh: I had just set up a job at the placein London in the late 1980s and three people had gone out quite loudly. Some rang the bell later to complain about my muddling their ideas about dance categories. I arrived at the locker room when the tall figure of Robin howard, the founder of the Square, made his way slowly walking on his trademark two sticks (WWII had cost him his legs) to tell me that he had appreciated what he had seen. Later, my company of two had this magical object that all choreographers dream of: a desk in an office. As one of the resident businesses of the Place, with free access to the shared photocopier, the stars were our limit. Much later, I enrolled my son in their Saturday classes. If he loved having lunch in their cafe, he chose football. He is now watching the dance and knows it is rude to go out.
‘It gave birth to many careers – mine included’
Paterson Joseph: When director Debbie Shewell auditioned me for Lucy Gannon’s play Raping the Gold in 1988, which was to be performed in the little theater above a pub in Shepherd’s Bush Green, I had a few months before I got my Lamda diploma. I would have done the job even if they hadn’t paid me £ 160 per week in a little brown envelope. Traveling to work on my Kensal Rise pushbike, I felt like my plasterer dad – a shopkeeper. Only my profession was words, emotion and movement. As you can see, it was a magical time in my life. The young actor’s first job is the most crucial. From the closed environment of a drama school class to the cutoff and push and chaos of the acting world in practice is a huge leap forward.
Smaller theaters must exist to feed our big industry. To shape it, even. This is where art comes as close to being for itself as the business constraints of running a theater building, even a very small one, allow. The Bush gave birth to many careers and mine was no exception. My favorite word from a review, by the ever-smart and kind Michael billington, was “integrity”. I reveled in this for a long time. Because the oddly wedge-shaped tiny theater could be a closet or a world. It was a thing of the human imagination that resembled close quarters magic. And it worked because we all agreed to believe it. Although this room above a pub no longer houses Bush Theater, her child – and namesake – proudly sits like a specially designed theater shouting.
“ I was mouse n ° 3 in the panto ”
Pippa Bennett-Warner: In 1997, I played Mouse Number 3 in the Oxford Theater panto Cinderella. It was my first time on a big stage and I loved it. Over the next decade, I got to know the Playhouse quite well, going to school on the road and taking trips to see plays. The people who worked at the OP were always very friendly, the vibe was great and I enjoyed seeing the space change in size, get smaller as I got older. When I was 16 I saw Max Stafford-Clark’s production of Macbeth with Danny Sapani and Monica Dolan in the central roles. I remember it clearly; it was brilliant, so visceral and informed my decision to act professionally. I have worked with Danny and Monica since then and by meeting them for the first time I have absolutely fan-girl them. Danny is now a dear companion. The Oxford Playhouse describes itself as “a theater for all”. I believe them. He will forever hold a very special place in my heart.
“ The theater doesn’t have to be in a shiny building ”
Ali Pritchard: A freezing basement in the Lit & Phil Bookcase in Newcastle upon Tyne. It’s 2011, I was living with a perpetual hangover, dreaming of being the next Black Jack and my hair was tangled in a dreadlock – I was a very unkind theater student! As I leaned back in my seat, the stand gave way, giving me an instant trunk workout. Then all four lights – the entire lighting rig – dimmed and nothing else mattered.
I was watching The Tin Ring by Zdenka Fantlová, adapted by Mike Alfreds and Jane Arnfield. The play area was empty except for a single wooden chair, Jane was barefoot and wearing a simple black dress. There was no razzmatazz, just the most amazing creative team telling an essential true story that we must never forget. I learned that the theater doesn’t have to be in a shiny building; and that the price of the ticket does not dictate the quality – I built Alphabetti Theater on this mantra. We are an award-winning, socio-economically accessible theater in a former rubber stamp factory. Everyone is probably a little grateful to have seen The Tin Ring in the basement of the Lit & Phil library, because without it they might have had to put up with an aspiring Jack Black with long limbs.