The story of a London teenager who finds that suddenly and inexplicably she has become an alien in her own country. Shala Nyx plays five versions of the same girl, after finding out that her world has changed, and she has no house, no home, and what feels like no hope. To start with she’s a familiar teenager on her mobile phone, worried about boys and shoes and arguing with her mum. But then things change, and we move to the stages of discovering that your world is falling down, needing to flee, travelling and being ‘processed’ – quite literally as a number.

As her image and accent shifts from Londoner to Arabic to Scottish, it’s startling how differently the situation portrayed appears. What seems unthinkable becomes a potential reality; what seems incomprehensible becomes identifiable. Terraced houses and bombed shelters all mingle, and the audience does feel a sense of collective identity, even from the safety of this beautiful venue. Although shooting and shadows replace loud music and youthful vigour for all, it may well be hardest for females. We see the girl forces and degraded in order to access basic needs, and ‘be less than I am.’ Independence and identity are irrelevant, and shame and judgement pervade.

Director Dominic Hingorani and designer and illustrator Rachana Jadhav have used the resources well, and Nyx risen to the challenge. Doors open and close and the screen action reaches into the live. In one poignant moment the familiar streets become coated in blood, and when in a café and call centre, being lured to finding a sense of belonging once again freedom fighting group the scene is surrounded by sinister tentacles. When so much has happened, for soldiers and refugees, the need to survive outweighs ideals, and some ‘turn on my truth.’

Half Moon is local venue that supports and provides for young people in the community, and the performance of her an important one to show. Engaging the audience and showing a hint of the struggle that some go through, whilst also capturing their attention and provoking debate is hugely important – for all generations. After every show there’s a question and answer session with the cast and team, as well as a day of workshops planned. Whilst I’m not sure that I could say I enjoyed her, I did absolutely love it. Creative activism certainly has a role to play in influencing  the future, and her is a wonderful step towards that change.

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Bristol’s Creative Youth Network and their seasonal performance of Turkey is a production formed through collaborative workshops with young people participating in their schemes and arts initiatives, all based on true stories . Written by Alice Nicholas, directed by Nick Young and produced by Emily Bull, although very much created by the cast and their peers, this immersive and real life performance at The Station is both tender and gripping – just like the rest of the festive season.

‘T’was the night before Christmas’ begins our narrator Theo (Jake Bartlett), in his dazzling glitzy jacket – and as we hear from the characters it can be everything from borderline hell or most wonderful time of the year.’  Homelessness, poverty, loneliness, broken relationships and illness can all take their toll – and the feeling of being alone and failing is only exacerbated by what looks like the perfect Christmas that everyone else all around is having.  . Often through no fault of their own individuals find themselves unable to produce that perfect day, ‘just like everyone else.’ That’s what Abigail (Cirwen Farrant) wants for her and her unborn baby Biscuit, and she speaks tenderly to her child about the eternal hope of the new year and what it will bring. ‘I should be happy and full of Christmas cheer’ our characters feel – that should weighing them down.

Like most ‘perfect’ things in life, the depiction tends to be a somewhat filtered version of events. Whether it’s the Black Friday consumerist fight, one-upmanship pursuit, the hypocrisy of ‘pretending to believe in Jesus once a year then go back to being c*nts’, the demands of bratty children, finding out Father Christmas isn’t real, or  just the fact that domestic bliss skates on thin smiles that crack by something as simple as not buying ribbon. In the pursuit of the ideal Christmas the endless ‘rush, anxiety, panic and failure’ ring more loudly than any peace and goodwill.

Or so it seems. Because for everyone who walks straight past the homeless, there’s those like Hazel’s (Emily Gilbert) family who invite Alfie (Matt Fleming) and his ‘invisibility cloak’ in for dinner. Or Abigail and her sister Jas hand crafting presents. Or the mother supported through her breakdown.

And people like Creative Youth Network and the participants of Turkey. As well providing a brilliant evening’s entertainment and making the whole audience think, they invited us all to share a meal with them, all donated by FareShare and would have gone to landfill otherwise. Sharing, laughing, and feeling part of a community – that’s what Christmas is about, and that’s what Creative Youth dished up with their Turkey.

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Running until May 21st 2016

It’s the first time Charlotte Keatley’s play has been performed in London in 25 years, but this production of My Mother Said I Never Should, produced by Tiny Fires and running at St James Theatre, suggests that the capital has been waiting that long. It’s easy  to see why the National Theatre ranked it as one of the most significant plays of the twentieth century in 2000, and despite it being the most performed play ever written by a female playwright, Paul Robinson’s direction and Tara Finley’s production keeps it fresh.

The family drama spans 1940 to 1987 and four generations of women, and explores not only the personal dynamics at play, but those of society and its effect work, marriage and motherhood.

The plot is simple – we have Doris, born in Oldham in 1900, her daughter, Margaret who inherits some of her work and duty values but is some more freedom, her daughter, Jackie, who has an unplanned pregnancy in 1969, and hands her baby daughter, Rosie, to her mother to bring up as her own. But as all mother and daughter relationships, the reality is all the more complex. The ways in which they mirror one another, even whilst trying to break away, are clear, and we see repeated a longing to be different coexisting with a desire to connect.

Of course things have changed and female freedoms extended and opportunities grown. There’s a sense of movement for the women – at one point Margaret says to Jackie ‘You’ve got to go further than me – otherwise, what’s it been worth?’ – but at the same time it’s very clear that much has stayed the same, particularly when it comes to the bonds and family dynamics. She herself made a similar assertion as young woman, declaring, ‘Well I’m going to be different! Women did so much during the war: there’s nothing stopping us now.’  Men are never physically present, but always casting a shadow, whether as husbands, fathers or bosses. However, rather than a play about women and men, this feels like more of a play about mothers and daughters.

Much of this is down to the convincing familial dynamics between the cast. Doris Lipman is superb as Maureen, showing grit, humour and strength of character even as she is constrained by conventions. Katie Brayben, Olivier Award winner last year for her performance as Carole King in Beautiful, plays Jackie, and manages to portray a wild child of the sixties to a mother parted from her daughter and the complexities of changing emotions and relationships. Serena Manteghi is vibrant and animated as the youngest character, and it’s touching to see her grow.  Huge congratulations and respect also has to go to Hilary Jones, who stepped in at the last moment to play Margaret due to Caroline Faber having to step down – this performance was the first configuration of the cast, and only the second time they had met.

Signe Beckman’s set design is sparse, with flickering television screens setting up the context of the time without overpowering the individual stories. Interspersed with movement through the decades are flashbacks, such as from Doris to 1923 when Jack proposed, and waste ground scenes where all four become children again, playing together and casting spells. There’s simple repeated motifs, such as the movement from ‘mummy’ to ‘mum’ to ‘mother’ to a first name, and the solitaire board that becomes a metaphor for winning at life by being an individual.

There’s no formula. The relationships between mother and daughter are delicate. Margaret says at one point that ‘You do what’s best for your daughter, and you find out it’s not what she wanted, or needed’ – a thought millions of mothers have had. But still the bond is there. The scene where the family sort Doris’ late husband’s house provides a particularly lovely lens through which to explore the relationships of the four women together.

Whilst watching My Mother Said I Never Should, I wished that my own mummy was there. I wanted to share the moments with her. This feels like high praise.

Festivals have been having a tough time of it. Thousands are held every year, spanning all types of music, arts and culture, and from a high point a couple of years ago, economic and environmental pressures have caused some crashes. A forthcoming conference from the British Arts Festival Association aims to address the question of what festivals and their futures, and how they can not only endure hard times, but contribute towards the communities and societies in which they operate.
The Conference for Festivals: ‘Capacity to Endure’ running over 7th, 8th and 9th of November 2012 at The Southbank Centre and The Barbican features a host of talks, workshops and panels, covering the spectrums of social, economic and environmental sustainability.
It’s not only due to our amateur business skills and lack of interest in accounting that It’s All Happening really do believe in the capacity for festivals to ‘do good’ for the places and faces they touch.
The ethos and emotion of a celebration of creativity is one that inspires most people to start and visit festivals, and such intangible reasons for being are also credible signs of success. One of the key speakers on Social Sustainability is Matt Burman, Head of Programme and Audiences, Warwick Arts Centre and he puts it thus ‘We need to move on from measuring impact in economic terms – the language of miserly bean counters – and talk about the emotional impact, the effect on quality of life, about values of creativity and inspiration beyond those extrinsic factors dictated to us.’
Festivals are valued by audiences and participants for their cultural relevance, the opportunity to engage more deeply in something that matters, to entertain and stimulate, reconnect and discover, and for this reason should be supported.
Contributions to cultural diversity, community cohesion are difficult to measure, but a study by BOP on the effect that Edinburgh Festival had on the city during the 2010 event found that local people were on the whole very positive. . 93% of parents agreed that the Festival event had increased children’s imagination, 89% of locals agreeing that the Festivals increase their pride in their home city, 69% saying that they were now more aware of other cultures, and 55% of reporting feeling that the event had made a difference to their well-being. For giving people kicks, as things go, festivals are surely one of the best routes for communities to go down.
For the pen pushers, political executive and bureaucratic officials, the value of festivals will always be considered in pounds and pence. Unfortunately humans have not yet advanced enough to view the world by any other scale. This event aims to ask what does social sustainability really mean, and is there a more rounded way of judging the impact of an event upon inclusivity, collaboration, community engagement, cultural stimulation – and the contribution to the coffers.