G's Theatre Blog

© ELOINA Just after ELOINA's HIGH STEAKS, the other night, I had my first conversation about labia. Two days later, I had my second one. As far as proving the power of this show goes, I cannot think of a better way.  Believe me, it's not for a lack of trying. Last night, while videocalling one of my best friends in another country, I was trying to describe HIGH STEAKS to her. I was painfully aware of a strident clash between my factual recollection of the evening, and the way it made me feel. The factual recollection presented the following points: 1) The performer, ELOINA, came out with an accordion hung over her neck, covering the front of her body. The accordion made music as she moved. Pieces of steaks were hung from the ceiling in pairs with strings and pegs.  2) ELOINA then removed the accordion. When she put the instrument down, we saw strings taped to her belly, which were attached to another pair of steaks, peeking out from a bush of salad covering her vulva. She sat ...

  © Close Enough To Touch I took a break from reviewing in 2023. The pressure of making fringe theatre, navigating a world in which funds and resources are low and expectations are high, got to me. I felt forced, as a creative, to be a show's everything - dramaturg, director, and producer in a professional capacity; but also, on a personal level, champion, nourishment, ontological reason, and more. When a sector is systemically undermined by the absence of economic and cultural investment, every opportunity is a "now or never"; every chance to be bold and creative for the sake of living an experience and learning from it, crashes with having to continuously justify the long-term value of your work's existence.  I feel bittersweet, this morning, as I think about this in light of the fresh news of VAULT Festival's closure. In the last 12 years, VAULT has been the London destination for innovative shows that might not find a direction or platform otherwise; personal...

  © Zhaolin Zhou and Tingying The wholesome feeling I have while walking home after  Walking Cats  at Camden People's Theatre is almost impossible to put down in words. As I walk home, I keep thinking about how, as a migrant, the show's themes of nostalgia and fitting in feel relevant and relatable; at the same time, it's a unique masterclass in storytelling that highlights the uniqueness of each individual experience, in all their singular beauty and vulnerability.  Walking Cats  is an intimate and endlessly ingenious exploration of two parts within the protagonist's soul, and the effort to make them coexist. On one side, we have Kilburn Cat, a grey and white cat who lives in North London, shops for groceries at the Sainsbury's down the road, and tries to get acquainted with its new home away from home; Dongfeng Cat, on the other hand, comes from a village in China, is colorful, and very in touch with its roots, strengthening that connection with food and memor...

  © Corinne Din Din Lights go up on 16 bright-coloured foam boxes. Stage center, Lila Robirosa - whose simple yet effective costume reminds of both a pawn and a bell - limpidly intones: "The first term of the first year of university gave to me...". The rest, you'll want to figure out on your own. Suffice to say, Lila's reinterpretation of the famous tune The Twelve Days of Christmas  retraces her nine terms of university and the hilarious and almost grotesque things that happened to her in those three years.  The show is a collection of comedic anecdotes candidly discussing queerness and womanhood. Since the order in which they're performed is decided by the roll of a dice, they're cleverly conceived to work both on their own and within the wider narrative - like stackable storage units. Lila's friendly and light-hearted style allows her to build rapport with the audience quickly; and we remain loyal to her all night, as she - more or less diligently, but...

© Alessandra Davison I've never liked the colour orange. In a world full of traffic cones, reflective vests, and life rafts, I've found myself overwhelmed by its loudness, betrayed by its promise of vitality that always ends in tartness.  Last night, I went to Camden People's Theatre, one of my favourite places in London, one that to me means safety, acceptance, growth. When I started working at CPT, in 2019, the dominant colour in our logo was a deep, dark aqua: a gorgeous, grounding shade I now instinctively link to creativity and family. Hence, I am taken aback when I look at the CPT stage, ready for For A Palestinian , and notice an unignorable pile of oranges on the floor. Then, rows of oranges hung from the ceiling. Then, an orange wash in the background, which, in combination with the other elements of the masterful light design (Ros Chase), fills the room with wondrous shades of magenta purple, indigo blue, and of course, an abundance of orange.  Now, it would be re...