You might not automatically associate Charles Dickens with vintage vinyl, festivals, busking and burger joints, but Theatre Alibi’s new adaptation of The Old Curiosity Shop might just change your perception. Featuring malignant loan sharks, bent lawyers and wide boy rappers, Daniel Jamieson’s new adaptation plants the action firmly in today’s world, incorporating a soundtrack spanning the decades from Elvis to Professor Green. The adapter tells Laura Turner more about the tour.

How did you come to work with Theatre Alibi?
I started working with Theatre Alibi as an actor when I left university in 1989. It was for a show called The Withered Arm based on short stories by Thomas Hardy. At first they gave the job to a bloke who could play the accordion and act but he dropped out so they gave job to me instead (I can’t play the accordion)!

So tell me about Curiosity Shop.
Curiosity Shop is Theatre Alibi’s version of a novel by Charles Dickens called The Old Curiosity Shop. In Dickens’s original, the Old Curiosity Shop is an antiques shop owned by Little Nell’s grandfather. In our version, the action has been transplanted to the present and the shop has become a record shop selling mostly old vinyl. The book is 73 chapters long. The play is 84 pages long!

What drew you to such a huge project?
It felt like it had relevant things to say to people now. It tells the stories of several young people whose lives are undermined by the weakness and the malice of older people. That felt very relevant now because of the tough time young people are having at the moment getting an education and a job. Also, the novel has brilliant characters – very colourful and vivid – that felt like they would work well on stage.

It certainly seems like there’s little “old” about your curiosity shop. Was it an easy transition into a modern context?
It wasn’t always easy but it was always fun! It became a sort of game or a puzzle to imagine what the modern version of a Victorian travelling waxworks show or Punch and Judy were, for example. It was a deliberate decision. Dickens will always feel immediate and relevant if you look at it carefully enough, but setting the story now helped me to inhabit it more fully imaginatively.

What was your journey into writing?
A few years after starting work as an actor, me and several other actors decided we wanted to call the shots ourselves so we agreed to put on a play and discovered how hard it is, and how rewarding. Everyone took responsibility for the job they were interested in – I’d always fancied myself as a writer so I wrote the play. I enjoyed it very much (although found it very scary!), it went well and I’ve never looked back.

Are you very involved in the rehearsal process as a writer?
I’m around in the background, ready to give advice if required, ready to change anything in the writing that doesn’t work, helping to make artistic decisions if I’m asked. Nikki, the director, and I talk very thoroughly before rehearsals so we’re on the same wavelength. But you’ve got to give people room to make the show their own.

Where do your inspiration or influences come from?
I get inspiration from all sorts of places, not all theatrical. I’ve always loved Complicite and some of the work of director Katie Mitchell – I thought The Waves was inspirational. But I also love film – old stuff by directors like Powell and Pressburger, Carol Reed, Orson Welles, new stuff like any Studio Ghibli films directed by Miyazaki, Wes Anderson, Michael Haneke – various things. I read a lot of fiction too, all sorts, which I find very inspiring – Cormac Macarthy, Haruki Murakami, Graham Greene, WG Sebald. I’ve also always found art very stimulating in relation to theatre. Artists are such interesting people anyway, but theatre is a visual medium as well as a literary one, so art is very inspirational. Looking at paintings and photos gets my brain working differently.

What’s your advice for aspiring playwrights?
Write as much as you can! Make it as quirky and individual as possible – don’t feel obliged to copy other people to get noticed. Get feedback but don’t get put off – what one person says is never the whole picture. Get in the habit of writing more than one draft of stuff – you can make it much better second time round.

What’s next for you?
Don’t know yet! I’m doing more stuff with Alibi hopefully. I’m adapting a kid’s show for them from a story by Michael Morpurgo called I Believe in Unicorns about a boy growing up in war-torn Bosnia and the importance of books in his life. I’m in the middle of a residency at the Mood Disorders Centre at Exeter University researching and writing about people with depression, which is harrowing, fascinating and, in many ways, uplifting.

And finally, give us a hint of what audiences can expect from Curiosity Shop?
Hopefully, lots of colour – vivid characters and a vividly told story with lots of Alibi’s characteristic ingenuity. And lots of cracking music too. And a brilliant design! All the ingredients for a good show, I reckon.

Curiosity Shop is playing at the Exeter Northcott Theatre until 16 March, then touring until 27 April. For more information, visit http://www.theatrealibi.co.uk/curiosityshoptour.php.

Image credit: Curiosity Shop in rehearsals by Steve Tanner

Playwright E V Crowe is probably best known for her Royal Court debut, Kin. Dealing with the pre-adolescent trials of growing up at boarding school, Kin was a adult play full of children; now, Crowe is turning her hand to writing for younger audiences with Liar Liar. Currently playing at the Unicorn Theatre and originally commissioned as a prequel to King Lear, Crowe tells Laura Turner about how the play has developed, working with and for young audiences, and creating a play that, when you watch it, feels like eating a Haribo sour.

How did Liar Liar come about?
I ran some youth classes for a Unicorn project called ‘text generation’ which encouraged young people to write their own play. And I was also commissioned to write a new play, originally as a sort of prequel to King Lear, which became Liar, Liar.

Liar, Liar is a story about a girl called Grace who has been out all night and everyone wants to know where she was. She tells them what she thinks they want to hear, until the end when she tells the truth to her Dad, which turns out to be a lot harder than lying. She has the kind of energy and imagination that I experienced when working with young people. And she’s fighting for a sort of inner self: the right to be her own person.

You’ve written for young characters before – was this a similar process?
I haven’t written a play for a youth audience before. I wanted to honour how they presented their experience of the world to me when I spent time with them. I wanted the play to be on their side, or at least to ask questions that are relevant to them, even if these aren’t normally considered important details. For example, how young people sometimes internalise how they are perceived by adults, and then sort of become that person without even noticing. And the power of friendship, which is a strange relationship never really mentioned in law or in the history books, but a friend can save your life, I think. Texting can be like an epic poem of emotional commitment.

There must be challenges as well as positives?
I think a youth audience has the potential not to play by the rules of theatre – as in I don’t think they will sit politely and tell everyone they had a marvellous time at the theatre. I think they will react if it’s boring and react if it’s not representing them in a way that feels honest. I like it; I like knowing how an audience feels right away. That said, I haven’t written something that just seeks to ‘entertain’; I’ve taken them seriously and written something that I hope is about big ideas in terms of how the world works, not just about a kid who fibs.

Do you enjoying exploring adolescent expereince in your writing?
I’m drawn to people who tell the truth and whose emotional lives are important to them. I think teenagers respond to their emotions and spend a lot of time navigating relationships and power dynamics and versions of themselves. I think there’s good drama in all that. And it’s exciting to play a part in giving it a voice in ‘art’. If theatre is art. Which I think it is. But of course young people should respond to what I’ve written by writing their own play. That would be brilliant.

What would be your advice to aspiring playwrights?
Don’t give up. If your play is rubbish, write another one. Nurture your interests and idiosyncrasies. If there’s a metaphorical bruise, push it, don’t worry about three act structure. Try and join a writers’ group connected to a theatre.

Are inspiration and influences important too?
I think I’m inspired by other writers of my generation who work really hard and are fearless in their responses to the world. It feels important to not always be wishing you were Arthur Miller (I kind of do) but to take responsibility for the now, and know that what we say as writers now matters. And that theatre matters now more than ever. That said, I really like Edward Albee, Caryl Churchill, Anthony Neilson, Christopher Shinn…

And what can audiences expect from Liar Liar?
There’s a line in a play where Grace says it’s like “falling asleep in a bag of Haribo sours”.

Liar Liar plays at the Unicorn Theatre until 6 March. For tickets and more information, visit http://unicorntheatre.com/liar-liar.

Image credit: Danusia Samal as Grace in Liar Liar by Manuel Harlan

The UK premiere of Pulitzer Prize finalist Rajiv Joseph’s Gruesome Playground Injuries is being staged at The Gate until 16 February. Mariah Gale and Felix Scott’s performances have already been highly praised in this intense 80-minute two-hander, described variously as a “crazily watchable anti-rom com” and “a fiercely honest story of modern America”. I chatted to Leverhulme Bursary-winning Director Justin Audibert about working on the show, his advice for young directors and what the future might hold.

Let me say now that the answer to that last point involves discussing the sex lives of the over 65s; a statement which I hope goes some way to demonstrate Audibert’s lively character and that he’s an interesting director. Trained on the Theatre Directing MFA at Birkbeck University, this 31 year-old has got his foot firmly in the door. He is Resident Director at the National Theatre Studio, holder of the 2012 Leverhulme Award, Associate Director at the Finborough and an education practitioner for the RSC and Told By An Idiot. So it’s no surprise he’s been heralded as “one to watch” on the back of this recent production.

Audibert is drawn to plays that “question why human beings do the things that they do”, and sees all art as a great reflector of the choices of humanity. He looks for writers who “create dialogue that has something to it, a wit or a character”. Upon first read of Gruesome Playground Injuries he was impressed by the sharpness of the writing and the way it “zings off the page”. He was also excited by the challenge of having to show the two characters moving from age eight to 38. A lot of rehearsal was spent “filling in the blanks” of their relationship between the ages, work that manifests itself in the show’s transitions.

In Audibert’s words this play is “a time hopping dysfunctional love story between two damaged people”. The rehearsal process was spent untangling this love story, and examining the nature of pain. Audibert describes himself as a text-based director, taking a Stanislavskian approach of discerning character’s objectives and obstacles and “looking for the clues with the actors in the text”. He learnt from Katie Mitchell’s book The Director’s Craft to seek the events in each scene – events that make everything shift for the characters. Working in this way he and the cast “made a set of choices that gave us an agreed set of parameters through which we were going to tell the story”.

He describes being a director as having “a desire to tell stories clearly”; it is the director’s job to coach the actors “so they feel as confident, happy and committed as they possibly can while they’re on stage, and have a clear sense of why they’re telling this story”. The big questions Audibert identified in Gruesome Playground Injuries are “why do we sometimes have relationships that are bad for us, and why do we love people that are damaged?” To help explore these in rehearsal he worked with movement director Joe Wild. Looking at the physical signifiers of age, and also of pain and injury, was combined with the focused text work. One of the major questions examined movement-wise was “the difference between pain in an immediate sense and long term decay”.

It’s certainly not an easy subject to work with, but Audibert explains how the rehearsal room always maintained a fun atmosphere: “anytime we got a bit stressed we’d play a game, run around the room like idiots or eat cake”. He speaks fondly of the process of working with his entire team, and says the show wouldn’t be what it is without the input of all involved. Lily Arnold’s design, for example, hugely influenced the acting and choices made. Audibert has a very clear understanding of the director as collaborator, as the facilitator of “a dialogue between artists” and shares the following piece of advice about his craft: “Mostly directing is about speaking the different languages of the people you work with accurately… If you do that, you have a happy team and a happy team makes good work.”

Another major piece of advice he offers young directors is “ don’t get yourself in financial debt to work” and “there’s no such thing as a big break, you just have to keep working at it”, which is wonderfully refreshing to hear. Reading this advice, you may pin Audibert down as a sensible, non-risk taking director. You’d be wrong. His dream production to direct is “a version of Spring Awakening set in an old people’s home with all OAPs”. Why? Because it’s a play that touches him every time he reads it, and “nobody talks about the sex lives of people over 65”. A very valid point and I agree with him that it would be a fascinating process where a young director could learn a lot. He also wants to direct King Lear, seeing it as the “greatest parable of humanity of them all”.

Gruesome Playground Injuries plays at The Gate until 16 February. For tickets and more information, visit http://www.gatetheatre.co.uk/whats-on/gruesome-playground-injuries.aspx.

Image credit: Justin Audibert in rehearsals for Gruesome Playground Injuries by Ludovic des Cognets

Auditioning is hard. That’s no secret. It is terrifying putting yourself on display with the risk of failing – and even the best actors are rejected from time to time. Sometimes you are just not right for the job. There are factors you can’t argue with and have to accept.

Auditioning for drama schools is no less daunting. Even though you should solely be judged on your talent, other little factors can get in the way. Sometimes the schools are looking for a certain type and it’s tricky figuring out how to give them what they want. Here, however, are a few things ideas based on my own experiences, and tips I’ve gained over the years from professionals and current students.

1. Be well-prepared. This might seem totally obvious, but you would be surprised how many people show up to their auditions not knowing anything about their speeches, the characters or the play they come from. I once had to endure a boy doing Romeo’s famous balcony scene while sitting on a chair talking to a few people on the floor – the guy had just assumed he knew what was going on, didn’t bother reading the play and therefore hadn’t realised he was actually talking to Juliet on a balcony. Quite embarrassing.
2. Have a few speeches up your sleeve. Most schools ask for one contemporary speech and two Shakespearean/Jacobean – have at least twice that prepared. You never know what they’ll want to see. Just make sure they are contrasting and no longer than the time limit (usually 2-3 minutes). I was once asked to do a Danish piece (I am Danish) and panicked as I didn’t see that one coming.
3. Be confident, not arrogant. Believe in yourself and that you can contribute to the school.
4. Don’t let the nerves get to you. Very often you see nervous applicants chatting away just before the audition like their lives depend on it. Don’t be a blabber-mouth just before the big moment – you will make yourself more nervous and forget to breathe. Stay calm and focus on yourself, at least til after your audition. Chatter won’t help and trying to prove to the others just how great an actor you are won’t get you a recall.
5. Commit. Let go of your inner critic and go with whatever happens at the audition – if the panel redirects you then don’t question them or go against it. They just want to see more of you and if you can take direction well. This has nothing to do with your interpretation. I was once asked to do a Shakespeare tragedy as a 4-year-old girl in a tutu with a magic wand dancing around. Which probably isn’t how Shakespeare intended it. But have fun and play, they’ll be looking for you to let go and be adaptable.
6. Be creative, but not insane. One of my friends who’s studying at the moment told me that a girl brought a suitcase to her audition containing an entire tea-set. She took five minutes to set it all up, sat down, made (real!) tea and drank a cup, then stood up and walked away from her little picnic and started her speech (which was Shakespearean tragedy). She didn’t actually use the tea-set in the piece. And no tea was mentioned in the monologue… which leads me to number 7:
7. NO PROPS!
8. Don’t worry if you don’t get recalled. There are other schools and they all look for different things. Some people take years to get in – others never do but still have great careers. Don’t beat yourself up. If you believe you can do it then it will happen eventually.

Image: The Teaparty