What If We Tried Something New? - Thoughts on Romantics Anonymous

For a little while in the last month or so, the world began to look like it did in January and February. An almost distant memory when the world made a lot more sense and there wasn't a 24/7 never ending sense of doom all over the news and the internet.

The main thing that the beginning of the 2020 had was a show that I truly could not have foreseen the effect it would have on me. A show that would cause me to travel a 150 mile round trip twice in a fortnight to see it three times (twice in one day) because I loved it so much.

That show, of course, is Wise Children's magnificent production of Romantics Anonymous.

If at any point this year I have spoken to you about theatre, this show has undoubtedly come up. I'm mad about it in every possible way, and its for a reason that is completely new to me.

When you watch theatre, it's not often that you find yourself staring back at you on stage. But that is what I find in Romantics Anonymous.
The central performances from Marc Antolin and Carly Bawden as Jean-Renee and Angelique stop me in my tracks, because I am these people.
Let me explain.

Romantics Anonymous, based on the 2010 French film Les Emotifs Anonymes, is the first musical from Emma Rice's production company Wise Children. It looks at the life of two socially anxious people: a woman who quietly works as a chocolate maker, hidden away from the world, and a man who is struggling to keep his chocolate factory afloat following the death of his father. 
It's a story where you know the ending from the beginning: you know these people are going to be together by the time we get to the end. It's more a musical about discovering why these people have the imperfections that they have, and how they learn to live with them, and each other.

The first time I watched the show, I was completely enamoured by the way Emma Rice's book, alongside Michael Kooman and Christopher Dimond's music and lyrics created a world that revolved around chocolate, and then every so often you found your heart-strings tugged at so tightly that you can barely breathe. 
This is none more prominent in the number "If She Loved Me", sung by Jean-Renee. He has followed Angelique to the support group Les Emotifs Anonymes (which stays in French, because, as Angelique puts it, who would go to something called 'Emotionals Anonymous'?) because he has realised that he can't live without her.

It's all in Dimon's beautiful lyrics, alongside Marc Antolin's incredibly understated performance. The song is the show's '11 o'clock number' in a sense, but it's sort of not the musical that has one. It's the moment where the stakes are the highest, and he has one last shot to not lose the woman that he loves. 

"I'm not good with words, I'm just not equipped,
perhaps I'm afraid and so I stay tight-lipped,
but I could be something to see, if she loved me."

A song had never made me feel that way before.
Sure, I've had emotional reactions to songs before (the two main examples being Defying Gravity and Being Alive), but there is something about If She Loved Me that gets me in a way nothing has before. The lyrics honestly could have been written about me, especially me at  the beginning of the year. 
It's a feeling that I can't really explain, but it's just one of those moments in musical theatre where you see yourself looking back at you, and it's a lot to take it.
Je suis emotif and all that.

I'd be wrong to not quickly discuss the cast of this show (I could honestly write an essay on Carly Bawden and Marc Antolin and maybe I still will).

Bawden and Antolin have such a connection on stage that is like dynamite. There are no huge numbers that they belt to profess their love, it's all done through the smallest of gestures and the simplest of melodies. 

Sandra Marvin superbly gives life to Angelique's man-eating mother, and Magda (who has worked at the Chocolate Factory since 'the beginning of time'), alongside Me'Sha Bryan as Suzanne and Harry Heppel as Ludo (who's performance is so understated that you can't help but love him.)

But it is Gareth Snook who almost pulls the rug out from underneath everyone in his spectacular performance as Madame Marini, who is so over the top and ridiculous that the audience is in hysterics before he's uttered a word.
The world needs more Madame Marini's

 

So, lets talk about exactly what Wise Children managed to achieve last week. 

Emma Rice, Wise Children's artistic director, managed to pull together the majority of the cast, crew and musicians from the beginning of the year, got them to bubble together for a week, rehearse the show for another week, then tech and dress the full show. 

On top of that, they performed it to a digital audience for 5 nights, and then a socially distanced audience of around 150 on the final day.
Because of them bubbling together as a unit, the show was performed in it's entirety, without the need for social distancing.

Just let the logistics of that all sink in for a moment.

Even though we are in the strangest of times, these people have given up seeing any family or friends (I mean, anyone other than other members of the company) for three weeks. That might on paper not sound like a huge amount but it is when you think about it.

I essentially wanted to write this as a bit of a love letter to Emma Rice.
I've always been a fan of her work, from the first piece of hers I saw at the Globe (her superb production of Twelfth Night - who'd have thought Le Gateux Chocolat singing I Will Survive would work so well?!) and then her Kneehigh production of The Flying Lovers of Vitebsk (starring Marc Antolin). 

But it was when she started Wise Children that I properly discovered what an 'Emma Rice show' was, and realised it was absolutely my type of theatre. 

I loved Wise Children and I thought that Mallory Towers was one of the best pieces of theatre that I saw in 2019 (and was very much looking forward to seeing it again this summer until 2020 happened). She has such a distinct way of creating the worlds in which her pieces happen, and the quirkiness is what makes her style so unique and engaging.

In her pre-show speech before the show on Sunday, Emma (along with Tom Morris, the artistic director of the Bristol Old Vic) was met with a deafening applause that went on and on and on. It was an intensely moving thing, to be there in a small audience, to celebrate the achievement to playing to an online audience of 10,500 over the five shows and then get to do it to real people.
Emma said something that has stuck with me since Sunday, and it really is so true of how we are all feeling now.
"We are meant to be together, we are meant to be on this planet and we are meant to tell stories"

I don't think there was a dry eye in the house by the time she was done speaking, and that was before the show had started.
For a week, Emma Rice managed to create some normality in these weird times. Apart from there being less people in the auditorium, we saw a full production with it's full cast, and it was utterly wonderful

I love this show with all of my heart, and for it to be one of the first shows that I came back to after the longest period without theatre was incredibly special. 
These people, this show, this theatre, this music - it's all so personal to me in a way that I don't think any show has ever been (or possibly will ever be again.) You so rarely get a show that is 'your show' and I think this truly is mine.

We are being forced to adapt with the times for the foreseeable future, and in the grand scheme of things that is fine. We get that the world is going through a lot, and that we have to do things differently for a while. And we are capable of doing it. The thing we are not capable of is doing it without help.

I'm not gonna press any more on the last few weeks and the state of the world (mainly because I'm doing that in another blog post where I write a response to the absolute horror show coming from our Government) but know that it is still ongoing, like everything else...

Jesus Christ Superstar The Concert @ Regents Park Open Air Theatre - Review

Theatre was allowed to happen outdoors this summer, so Regents Park did the unthinkable and managed to stage a full musical, socially distanced, and make it more hard-hitting than it's original outing
 

It's not something that gets taken for granted at the moment - the experience of live theatre. Nobody could have predicted the situation we have found ourselves in this year, and with little to no end in sight, it's going to be a long road yet to recovery.
However, we were told, back in July, that theatre could happen outdoors, socially distanced (by both audience and actors) and so the Open Air Theatre team jumped into gear and have welcomed us back into the world that we love in the best possible way.

It's a strange, yet incredibly uplifting experience arriving at the theatre in the heart of Regent's Park. The team are working exceptionally hard to make the audience's time as comfortable but safe as possible. On a socially distanced capacity, the audience goes down from over 1,000 to 390, so it feels a little strange. Temperature checks are done before entrance to the site, and all patrons are required to wear a face mask throughout their visit. However, you soon forget any of this is 'not the norm' and settle in for an evening of musical theatre.

Drew McOnie has perfectly reconstructed his choreography from the previous incarnation of the production, and adapted it to fit the slightly different staging that is in use here. Rather than the original set, Sheader has repurposed the steps staging from last year's Evita to make keeping to the guidelines easier.
Nothing is lost, in fact everything is gained.
There's something so hypnotising about people standing in formation on levels going up, and dancing with their whole bodies. McOnie's movement is not what you would instantly imagine it to be, but the way he was manoeuvred his cast is mesmerising. 

The team have made the sensible decision to largely bring back familiar faces in order to stage this in a pretty short space of time. Director Timothy Sheader has cleverly double-cast the leading roles of Jesus, Judas and Mary Magdalene in order to cover themselves against illness and to give themselves maximum flexibility with no set schedule.
What that does mean, however, is that fans are playing a bit of a lottery trying to see specific cast members. A few weeks into the run, people seem to have spotted a pattern, but with reduced capacity, a  lot of tickets had already gone. Not a criticism, just an observation!

On this particular afternoon, I was lucky enough to see Pepe Nufrio as Jesus, Ricardo Afonso as Judas, and Maimuna Memon as Mary Magdalene - and I really mean lucky!

This score is no easy ride for either man in terms of vocal load, but Pepe Nufrio really flies high with his performance as Jesus. The first moment we see him - when the entire cast pull down their face coverings (such a brilliantly thought-through piece of direction by Sheader) - you see Jesus full of hope and full of love for his followers. His character arc certainly builds throughout the show, until he stops the show with his unbelievable performance of the legendary Gethsemene.
It truly is the definition of a showstopper - watching a man in pain and anger ask the question he will never receive an answer to: "why?"
Nufrio is wonderfully supported Maimuna Memon as Mary, who is gives such a round performance. With a beautiful rendition of "I Don't Know How To Love Him", Memon manages to perfectly capture the confusion Mary finds herself in.

But for me, the show belongs to the sensational Ricardo Afonso, who's portrayal of Judas is one of the best male musical theatre performances I've seen in the last couple of years.
The vocal load of Judas is one thing, but to see the emotional horror that Afonso goes through is magnificent. He gives mind, body and soul to that performance and it's utterly breath-taking to watch. 
Opening the show with an almighty rendition of Heaven On Their Minds, his performance builds and builds to the 11 o'clock showstopper - Superstar. Afonso deservedly has the audience on it's feet. The crowd have missed being able to cheer at spectacular performances, and this is one that deserves the recognition.

It's not just the three leads of this production that need mentioning. 
It is ridiculous the ensemble of people they have bought together, even in smaller parts. Seeing Cedric Neal as Simon singing for his life is sensational, as are Ivan De Freitas Nathan Amzi as Caiaphas and Annas. Shaq Taylor brilliantly plays Herod in a way I had never seen before (head to toe in gold!) and the stellar David Thaxton blows the metaphorical roof off the Open Air Theatre as Pilate. Thaxton truly comes on and storms the stage and it's fantastic to hear a voice like that.

The shows is currently in it's final week, and has been sold out for pretty much it's entire run. So much so, that an option to sit out on the lawn and watch it on a screen was added. 

It's been really exciting to see theatre quickly adapt to our new surroundings and constraints, and still be able to come together to show our appreciation for the thing that we love: theatre.

I will never take for granted again just how lucky we are to have theatre, and just how important it is. If the Government could cotton on to the fact that it's a  'viable' business sometime soon, that'd be super great.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

It's A Return

 

Just when you believe things may be slowly getting back to normal, the world looks like it's going to go absolutely mental once more.

From Monday, I am going back to work for the first time in over five months.
Now lets not get ahead of ourselves. I'm only going back to cover someone's holiday, and then sporadically for another couple of weeks. There is still no part of my actual job to do yet (or not enough of it to justify having to start paying my wages again) but I'm grateful for anything right now.
Our theatre is also a cinema, and we are re-opening three days a week, to test the waters and see what the appetite is for our audiences. We are one of the lucky ones in the fact that we have the facility to do that whilst we cannot stage full theatre/comedy/music. Cinema is significantly cheaper to run, and we need approximately 20 people per screening to cover our base costings. With a capacity of around 65 with social distancing, it's a gamble we are going to take for now.

Theatre is not really functioning in any way yet, and that is one of the points I wanted to make mainly here. 
It's great to hear this morning that Nimax and Nica Burns will be reopening some of their theatres from the  end of October, and with that Everybody's Talking About Jamie looks set to be the first West End musical to return before the end of the year. 

But it's important to remember that this is far from over. 
A second wave is looming. Whether the country will go back into lockdown remains to be seen. Personally I can't see it, because there is no way the economy would survive and the Tories couldn't magic another furlough scheme out of the air - that was a one time thing. Everyone  is still struggling, and unable really to plan with any certainty, and with winter on it's way, everything just feels that bit more gloomy...

I've been at home now for 27 weeks, and not working for 23 of them. 
In some ways this all weeks like it's gone on for about 10 minutes, but in other ways I truly feel like I've lived through a millennium. I know people are talking about mental health a lot at the moment, and I imagine most people are getting fed up of it, but it really has been hard. 

It was all semi-manageable because we thought we could see an end in sight. There was talk that the summer might kill it off (that was just optimism I guess), but we got through it because we had good weather, could spend time in our gardens, and had an hour a day outside. With the winter on it's way, and the  the threat of going back to where we were once more, it's hard to think positive.

But, work tomorrow. 
A little bit of normality, even if it's just for a short while...

So let the sun come streaming in
‘Cause you’ll reach up and you’ll rise again
If you only look around
You will be found

Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek and Paul

Don't You Love Farce?... A Little Night Music @ Holland Park - August 2020

It's a real thrill to be able to sit here and write about the fact that
I HAVE BEEN TO SEE A SHOW!

When given the opportunity to go to a prestigious outdoor venue, to see a concert production of a musical you love, with a cast of people you admire, it was a no brainer. For one evening, 200 people gathered in the grounds of Holland Park Opera, to see A Little Night Music in concert, produced by Alex Parker and Janie Dee. Back in 2015, Parker conducted a concert version of the show at the Palace Theatre, with Dee starring as the leading lady Desiree Armfeldt, so this is material that they know intimately. With a mixture of old and new cast members, it truly felt like a labour of love that this night happened, and come rain (!) or shine there would be an audience.

Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler's delightful musical is about love, relationships and the consequences they bring. Centred mainly around a group of inter-connected people across one night in the country, against the perfect backdrop of Holland Park, it really was the ideal setting for this wonderful story to be bought to life again.

Reprising her role as the enigmatic Desiree and wonderfully leading this cast, Janie Dee proves that she is an almighty talent and so incredibly versatile. The fact that the staging for this concert is so simple allows the performances to really shine, and that is no more evident than with Dee's Desiree. She's chaotic but gentle, flirtatious but timid. Her rendition of 'Send In The Clowns' in the middle of a torrential downpour was a particular highlight. Walking out from under the canopy cover to join the audience as the heavens opened will be a moment I remember for a long while yet.

Damian Humbley gave a superb performance as Desiree's old flame Fredrik, beautifully capturing his confusion and his lust for what has passed. The other man fighting for Desiree's affection - Count Carl-Magnus - was brilliantly played by Nadim Naaman. Relishing in the extravagance of the part, both men sing up a storm  and followed Dee's lead, standing in the rain by the end  and joining in the fun.
Two spectacular women have returned from the 2015 concert to reprise their performances. Laura Pit-Pulford is mischievous and bold (almost stealing the show) with her rendition of "The Miller's Son".
But it is Joanna Riding as Countess Charlotte who all but walks away with the night - there's something about Riding that you just can't take your eyes off. With razor-sharp wit and a hysterical rendition of' 'Happy Birthday To Me', she grabs every moment and runs with it.

Full marks to Alex Parker and the 9 piece orchestra for battling through the rain, fighting to keep their instruments dry, and producing a sound that was every bit as full as the 30 piece orchestra we were treated to previously. Hearing strings play a Sondheim score really is a joy that will never fail to bring a tear to my eye.

What this night proved, more than anything, is that there is an audience hungry to return to live theatre as soon as we are told that we can.
This concert had a capacity of 200, and the tickets sold out in 6 minutes. Jesus Christ Superstar at Regent's Park is virtually sold out. I know we're on a reduced capacity and it's meaning that we are stretched on finances, but the audiences are there.

If  you keep putting this stuff on, we'll be there.
Even in the most torrential rain, we'll be there to the end and we will be cheering you on loud and proud.
Theatre came alive again, in a night that will stay in the memory of those who were there for a very long time. We were soaked to the skin, but we were there together, and that proves just how far theatre fans will go to support.

It looks like the interval is starting to be over - slowly but sure, we are back. And my gosh, it feels good to be able to say that.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Even The Darkest Night Will End And The Sun Will Rise...

 

Yesterday, for the first time in 24 weeks, I booked a ticket to a piece of indoor theatre.
And man, how I cried.
I'll be honest, it doesn't take much to set me off at the moment, but the thought of actually getting to sit in a theatre (albeit socially distanced) with other humans, and enjoy a musical is a lot.

The phrase "you don't know how much you'll miss it till it's gone" has never been more applicable than it is now.
I really did know that theatre was a huge part of my life, but I don't think I'd fully realised that it was my life. I've never really stopped to think that it is both my employment and my home. I really do consider theatre my home.
Throughout some pretty turbulent times in the past 8 years, theatre was there for me to escape to, to cry at and to be healed by. There isn't a single time I've been to the theatre and one of those hasn't happened (apart from that year everyone did Macbeth and they were ALL terrible...!)

I'm always booking tickets for stuff. Like, I memorised my card details years ago so that it was just easier! But I couldn't let myself book anything during this time. It hurt too much when an entire year's worth of shows vanished in the space of a few weeks. 

But now, we appear to be moving again.
Tomorrow, I am going to the first musical for 23 weeks (and honestly, if you'd told me it was going to be Joanna Riding and Janie Dee in A Little Night Music I may have told you that Covid-19 was worthwhile to have to live through...) and I'm going to get to see so many friends tomorrow, which  again has been something I've missed. In person, human conversations about theatre, geeking out, has been something I've really missed.

I have two more outdoor musicals booked in August and September, and then in October, we return to indoor theatre. It's sort of ironic that The Last Five Years will be the first proper indoor musical I see after this madness, as it was the first 'virtual' musical produced in lockdown...

It's been an emotional time, and I'm really not ready for the amount I'm going to cry tomorrow when I'm back with  200 other people, watching theatre.
Yesterday, the Government moved us to Stage 4 of the 5 step plan: socially distanced performances indoors. I'll continue to shout at their useless approach to everything until we, the arts, get what we deserve.

But for now, we are moving forward. Even if it's at a snail's pace...

"And we will come back home, home again"
The Greatest Showman, Pasek and Paul

Not Going Left, Not Going Right.

Seeing as how I got a lot out of my first post (talking about the last four months and it's damaging effect specifically on the Arts sector - https://hardtoseethelightnow.blogspot.com/2020/07/trying-to-keep-sane-as-rules-keep.html), I've decided I'm going to write more often. I used to review shows a lot, and when the wheels are back in motion, I'm sure that I'll be doing that again. 

But I think for now, I need this creative outlet so that I can scream less into the void on Twitter, and actually get back to some kind of eloquence in my work.

Honestly though? I'm struggling - more than I have been for a while.

By now, I really thought that things might begin to get moving in some kind of positive direction for the Arts, especially given that the rest of the 'world' is starting to come back to some kind of normal again. In a sense, people can be forgiven for thinking this to be true.

As I write this, the details of how to access the Government's 'rescue package' are available, and my employers are frantically putting together an application that we hope will enable us to come back 'in tact' when we are allowed to re-open (whatever 'in tact' even means).
We have become such a close team in these last five months - much closer than I ever expected us to be - and it's going to make what comes next even harder.
People are going to lose their jobs (me included - I can't program a venue that isn't open until who knows when) and  it's happening all over the sector. 

Plain and simple, the Government's 'bailout' will protect venues in the short-term from closing. I don't see it saving everywhere, but it's likely to help a lot of places mothball their way through until 2021, when we might get some more information from Oliver Dowden, who honestly has no idea how a theatre works - apparently he thinks we can make shows in 48 hours (hint: we can't.)

There are over 1100 theatres and arts venues in the UK. You're kidding yourself if you think the money is anything other than a plaster for the knife wound that is the pandemic. This won't solve all of our problems (I don't actually think it's going to solve any of our problems but maybe I'm being pessimistic). It maybe buys venues time, but the people in those venues and what those venues are able to offer is in serious doubt.

Look, I get it. I get that this is happening everywhere. I get that people are losing their jobs in all sectors. I get that everyone is having a really shitty time. But my point to you is this: theatres have been told that we will not be receiving any more information as to whether when we can reopen without social distancing until at least November.
Can you IMAGINE if that statement had been said to the retail industry, or the aviation sector? The country collectively would be in uproar. Yet, because the arts are still seen as a luxury, and not the absolute necessity that they are, we are being left totally until the last minute.

As you read this, theatres up and down the country are in the process of postponing or minimising their annual Pantomimes, which create the revenue they need to stay open for the following year. For most smaller venues too, Pantomime is where the money comes from for the community projects they are able to do with young people, the money that enables them to takes risks on shows they book to make their programme more diverse in all areas.
Losing a whole year's worth of that money is a terrifying prospect, and a prospect that will cause most venues to streamline their staffing.
At least 5000 people have already lost their jobs in the Arts, and that number will skyrocket when the employers have to start contributing to the furlough scheme in September.

Oh, and if somebody could explain to me what the difference is between sitting on a plane, wearing a mask, for three hours, packed in like sardines, and sitting in a theatre, wearing a mask for three hours that would be great.
(We either should be doing both or neither - convince me otherwise...)

I'm sorry that this all sounds so bleak at the moment, but I'm just tired, and angry and hurt.

When your life is also your career, and you're watching them both crumble before your eyes it's really hard.

We're stuck. In the middle of the floor. Not going left. Not going right (thank you Mr Sondheim). 
We just have to cling on and keep fighting for our lives and our livelihoods.

Hear my song
It'll help us get through til tomorrow
Hear my song
It'll help us survive all the pain
Hear my song
It's the one thing I have
That has never let you down

(Jason Robert Brown - Songs For A New World)

Trying To Keep Sane As The Rules Keep Changing

Where to begin, eh?

It's been quite a time, these past few months.

I'm not sure that anybody could have predicted just how bleak things were going to get on that fateful day in March, when Theatreland just... stopped. And then, a week later, the rest of the world followed.

The night itself was a bit weird - or, as my boss described it 'strangely exciting'. We had very little information (how common that theme was gonna be - but more on that later), but we knew that theatres across the country were closed 'for the foreseeable'. So we set about cancelling the next month's worth of shows. Naively, I thought that might be it, and we'd be back early May. But as the days and weeks rolled on, the enormity of the situation unfolded, and we find ourselves where we are.

The essence of this, is to try to put into context for people that are not in our industry just how this has been for us. It took me about 12 weeks to finally be able to pinpoint a way of describing just what I feel like I've been through, and the only thing I can really describe it as is grief.
When you are lucky enough that your hobby and passion is also the way you make your living, it is doubly painful when it is taken away from you. Before this, I got to wake up every morning and say I did what I love for a living. The arts, and more specifically theatre, is my life - anyone who even slightly knows me knows that. And for this stretch of time absolutely everything has gone.
One of the arguments that got made very early on, and brilliantly articulates just how vital the Arts are is this: imagine going through lockdown, but having no TV, no books, no music, no films, no radio and so much besides. How much more difficult would your time have been if you didn't have all of this at your fingertips? Just think of that and then tell me the Arts aren't vital...

At this stage, it seems unclear in what state theatre will return, and what the full damage is going to be in the long term. It's great that we have a rescue package from the Government, and I'm grateful that it's there. But there are some things that people need to understand:

1. It isn't going to fix everything, save everyone or actually scratch more than the surface. This money is likely to save buildings, but not an awful lot more than that. 
Major organisations are in serious trouble - the Royal Albert Hall say they will be closed by March with no help, the Globe is in dire needs, the National Theatre too... 
These are just three of our biggest places whom we absolutely should be saving, as they are the flag of our identity as a nation in the Arts. But the money that they are going to need to survive will mean that what is left to go around for the rest of us isn't going to be a lot. 

A billion pounds for England sounds like a lot, but in the grand scheme of things, it's not going to do an awful lot...

2. It took too long for the Conservatives to come up with any details.
We were absolutely left until the end of the 11th hour, when we were on the brink of collapse and thinking help wasn't coming. We waited 15 weeks to get even the smallest piece of information, despite months of campaigning. And I'm sorry, that just isn't good enough. The money that the industry brings in to the economy is roughly on a 1:4 ratio (every £1 invested, we put £4 back into the economy through hotels, restaurants, flights). Wonderful people fought our corner from the very beginning and begged for the industry to be heard - I'm petitioning for James Graham to get a knighthood for what he did (and also for making Quiz...) - but it just all took too long.

3. People seem to think we can just make a show overnight. When the Culture Secretary announced that outdoor shows could now take place with social distancing, he gave us 48 hours notice. 48 hours to cast, build, rehearse, tech, dress rehearse, and sell tickets for a show.
I cannot even begin to explain how angry it makes me that the person making the decisions of the future of the Arts doesn't seem to possess even the smallest idea of how it... actually works?
And I know some people have managed to make outdoor theatre happen in very short spaces of time, and that's really great - I'm so here for the fact there is theatre that's going to happen this summer. What I'm not here for is the then bitchy "see, it's possible to put a show together in a week" posts that follow. Not calling anyone out, but can we stop trying to snipe at each other? We're all really tired and trying to work out how to make it work.

4. There also appears to be a complete lack of understanding from people outside our industry that theatre cannot operate within social distancing measure. The majority of shows need at least 70% of seats to be sold to just cover their costs (everyone's wages, running costs and so much more.) Let me just spell it out a little clearer - today I bought a ticket for Regents Park Theatre in September. They have had to reduce their capacity from 1200 seats, to  just under 400, to comply with social distancing measures. This takes them to 30%, and as such they are doing a concert, rather than a full musical to reduce their costs. Even with such smaller production costs, it's going to be so difficult for them to turn that into a profit.
When we are back to working without social distancing, it's probably going to take people a long time to be confident that they can go back into the theatre safely

If you want to see more of exactly what I think on this specifically, check out my Twitter - I'm spending most of my furlough (and exceedingly looking like I'll be spending some of my possible upcoming unemployment...) yelling at the incompetence of the upper-middle class, middle aged MEN who are running our country into the ground (and also the vile Patel woman who I seem incapable of shouting anything but expletives at...)

 It's been beyond infuriating watching a group of adults get it so wrong, but refuse to admit that they're getting it wrong. That's what's been so hard for all of us - one rule for them and one rule for us. We spent weeks and months going out of our minds, going round and round in circles, watching these people blatantly lie to us.
And it hurts.

I've set this up, because I need something to do, and somewhere to go. I've spent 17 weeks at home, and only started seeing people again within the last 5 or 6. This time has been rough for everyone, but when you have mental health problems on a day today basis anyway, it's just been amplified to the extreme and there have been some really hideous days and nights...

But for now, I hope you can get a bit more of an understanding of why I've been a stark raving lunatic on social media for the last few months, and why I am so passionate about saving our beloved theatre industry.

There is light at the end of the tunnel, but we are only just beginning to see the tiniest bit.

My brilliant friend, Dr Emily Garside, put it in a really concise way shortly before we heard about the rescue package, and I felt that I should end with that. Because she perfectly summed up the nightmare that we have been through, and are continuing to go through:

"If your theatre friends seem a bit 'over-sensitive' right now it's because after a lifetime of our identities tied up with our job, and what we love...our world has disappeared. And nobody outside our bubble seems to care, because there's football and pubs now. That's why we are shouting a lot. Because we can't do much else."

Holding to the ground as the ground keeps shifting
Trying to keep sane as the rules keep changing
Keeping up my head as my heart falls out of sight
Everything will be alright...
(William Finn, Falsettos)