Showing between Thursday 14th and Saturday 16th May 2009 @ Clifton Village, Bristol
Showing as part of Mayfest 2009, Bristol’s festival of contemporary theatre

You arrive at the Lansdown Pub in Clifton. You’re given a headset and an envelope then encouraged to go for a wander around the streets and cobbled alleys of Clifton Village, just watching and listening; “This is not a race. Take it slowly. Stop often to watch. And find routes that you haven’t explored before.” In your ears is a strange, slightly unsettling, stripped-down crescendo of violins and cellos that ebb and flow as you walk. After a few minutes of absorbing these sights and sounds, your perspective on everything around you starts to shift.

Within the streets of Clifton are hidden a handful of stooges; some (overly obvious) actors who give you an ‘experience’ as you pass them. One might glare at you menacingly, another might drop a handful of envelopes at your feet. Simple, innocent everyday acts but in the context of the music and the performance are given a strange cinematic quality. These encounters put you slightly on edge and blur the staged and the real world until everything around you becomes part of the performance.

As I walked, I encountered a multitude of mundane people carrying out mundane tasks but they all became very cinematic, interesting and often quite moving little episodes. Simple acts like a girl carrying a bike out of her front door and turning to wave to someone inside before riding off, through my eyes and soundtracked by the bleak violins became a powerful, touching and beautiful scene. A cat sat outside its owner’s house gazing at me took on a peculiar grandeur and lots of other simple experiences that I have encountered hundreds of times before, but it was like the show made me notice the beauty and cinematic elegance of everyday life itself. There was a strange selfishness to all the experiences too through, like I knew how cinematic someone I was watching was being, but they didn’t.

There wasn’t that much to be impressed by but I was strangely moved by the whole experience. Normally I get very wound up by overly manipulative music, but for this it really worked. Afterwards I was battling in my head for an answer; was I only being impressed because I wanted to be? Moved because I let myself be moved? But then maybe that’s the point; I could easily have recreated the music myself with an iPod but the very act of buying a ticket, anticipating the show and the taking part, all made it much more powerful and a real performance.

Duncan Speakman’s latest show is a wonderful experience but it still feels like this is just the first step. The idea and technology behind the show is already incredibly impressive and has amazing potential and I can’t wait to see what he comes up with in the future.

www.mayfestbristol.co.uk

Matthew Whittle www.matthewwhittleblog.blogspot.com