Once, the news that a circus had arrived in town was a source of great excitement. A whole community could look forward to becoming immersed in this colourful world; amazement at the death-defying acts and incredible skills would leave them cheering for more. Today, the audience would feel no less in awe of the performances, but circuses are certainly rarer and seen as part of our entertainment heritage. The Giant and The Bear is a refreshing interpretation of a traditional circus. A collaboration between Unlimited Theatre, Layla Rosa and Hide & Seek, this production is neither just circus nor just theatre. Chris Thorpe, founder of Unlimited Theatre, explains:  ”We had to be very careful; it was important to consider what a circus needs, what a theatre needs and then fuse these elements together. It was essential to look at how each art form was used to tell a story.”

The audience goes on a journey during the performance, a journey that starts as they arrive at the West Yorkshire Playhouse, where The Giant and The Bear is playing. “The audience is met with a welcoming parade and then sat down and told the story of the circus. It is vital that they throw themselves into the experience; adults often forget to make this investment into a performance.” But this is still a very different sort of entertainment. “Rather than simply being absorbed into a theatrical performance, The Giant and The Bear contains elements of interaction which allow the audience to be part of a self-contained world.” Often children will more readily throw themselves into such an activity but this production encourages everyone to participate and engage with the performance.

This interactive approach certainly goes some way to characterise the work of Unlimited Theatre, yet Thorpe explains that the collaboration with Layla Rose and Hide & Seek was essential for this production. There are aspects of The Giant and The Bear which are inspired by the style of Shunt, the company of which Layla Rosa is a founding member. Shunt creates street performances in unusual locations with audience engagement. The show’s aerial and acrobatic performances are typical of a Shunt production and Thorpe adds, “It was in fact Layla who first envisaged the bear, which is a motif often used in Shunt’s work. It became an integral part of this production.”

A visit to Blackpool inspired the idea of creating a circus. “It came out of an opportunity with a different venue, the Winter Gardens in Blackpool, which have a long history of music hall entertainment. The shows in this venue had mass appeal and were often circus based. We were walking around thinking how we could inhabit the whole building, hence the idea of creating games.” On the other side of the country, however, there was more inspiration to be found. ”Leeds has a wonderful entertainment heritage. The old commercial bear pit still exists and echoes of things we used to have with animals.” Audiences should expect a very different sort of performing bear, however. “Although he has to operate to certain rules, our bear represents freedom and is very happy,” assures Thorpe.

As part of the London 2012 Festival and Imove, Yorkshire’s Cultural Olympiad programme, the locality of this production is certainly at its heart. But does this national celebration of the arts affect individual theatre companies, such as Unlimited? “If it has allowed work to exist and has a knock-on effect for the future then this cannot be a bad thing. In terms of individual companies, it has brought together productions from all over the world and helped build working relationships between them.” Unlimited itself has a history of producing work using a pool of expertise, described as “cross-platform curiosity”. Thorpe compares this to a “renaissance for the arts”, explaining the company has “worked to develop relationships and trust in different fields”. From working with astronauts, Unlimited has fused science with the arts. Its production The Ethics of Progress, for example, investigated how theatre works as a medium for entertainment. “Instead of performance lecture we have twisted education into a more abstract form and explained quantum phenomena using artistic means of expression.” It is, in essence, about scientific principles and their ethical implications. “We don’t tend to find out about scientific advances, due to economic, political and social control. We like to think that a lot of the stuff we make gives the audience an experience which questions these constraints.” For Thorpe. it’s not about trying to radically change people’s views but to help audiences gently examine the social contract between the people sitting in the room.

As for The Giant and The Bear, there is something exciting about a collaboration between companies that prioritise audience engagement. ”The best thing theatre can do is to reassure the audience that they are in safe hands and that it’s alright to be part of the journey,” summarises Thorpe. “We want everyone to step into this world, and leave feeling that they have thoroughly enjoyed the experience.” The Giant and The Bear will not only amaze the entire big top with the flying ballerina and the hanging hoop girl, but also with the companies’ passion and creativity which shines through in footage of their rehearsals. For now, The Giant and The Bear is staying in Leeds, but in true circus tradition, it might not be long before the whole country is rolling up to the most exciting show in town.

The Giant and The Bear plays at the West Yorkshire Playhouse until 8 July. For more information and to book tickets, visit http://www.wyp.org.uk/what’s-on/2012/the-giant-and-the-bear/.

Image credit: Unlimited Theatre

Shocking, visceral and totally rough around the edges, Minsk, 2011 is a strikingly real portrait of life in the only remaining dictatorship in geographic Europe. The piece, devised by Belarus Free Theatre is part play, part documentary, but so real you feel uncomfortably close to the reality on the ground, or should I say underground, in Minsk.  Based on a play by Kathy Acker that explored sexuality in New York, Minsk, 2011 is the Belarusian answer – exploring the sexuality of the city, and how the society today has developed around it.

It is impossible to separate the play from the politics surrounding it. The Belarus Free Theatre was formed in 2005 by husband and wife team Nicolai Khalezin and Natalia Kaliada, later joined by Vladimir Shcherban. In a country of media censorship and sexual repression, the members of the company and artistic team have been subjected to harassment and intimidation. To be part of it means being expelled from university, spending time in jail and, while I watched, I couldn’t forget that for a moment. In Minsk you cannot look people in the eye for more than a second, but as part of the audience you cannot look away.

We are introduced to the country’s capital by a string of loosely connected episodes. Skinheads drag flag waving political activists, a flute player and a man whose only crime was to look at his watch twice, off stage. Then minutes later we are watching an underground rave where it is okay to exercise your sexuality. The play is performed in Russian with English subtitles on a screen behind (translated by Chris Thorpe), but there is little dialogue and most of the talking is done through monologues from a microphone stand. The strength of their words and the clarity of meaning through expression and sometimes grotesque gesture, means that understanding is never an issue. Each actor has a presence on stage that is undeniably embedded in the fact they are acting out the reality of their lives in Minsk. With a nearly bare stage, it is the strength of their acting that carries the performance. It is, after all, a piece of theatre.

It is a show that is not for the faint-hearted. There is full nudity; one actress’s naked body is painted black before she is wrapped in paper, only to wield a whip terrifyingly close to the audiences’ head. But on the other end of the scale there are moments of touching softness – snow falling on stage, hiding the greyness of Minsk and the actors sharing their own, personal stories with the audience.

The presence of an unplanned heckler in the audience, who told us it was “all lies”, throws the power of political theatre into context. Minsk, as the title of the play suggests, is what it is all about. The actors talk of the city in an almost mystical way, having a hold on them that will always draw them back. They lift the lid on what is hidden and oppressed, and there are those who want it to remain unseen. So go see it. They want to show you and believe me you want to see it.

Minsk, 2011 is playing at the Young Vic Theatre as part of LIFT until 23 June. For more information and tickets, see the Young Vic website.

We tend to forget, living in our cosy homes in the UK, that there is a wider world beyond our waters. The world is an expanse of land and sea inhabited by seven billion humans, living their lives in their countries, in their cultures and spheres of life. There are effectively seven billion stories, as each person has their own unique tale about life where they are in a given moment. What I Heard About The World, a collaboration between Third Angel, mala voadora and Sheffield Theatres, explores some of the stories from across the globe and places them into a piece of awkward, yet oddly fulfilling theatre.

What I Heard About The World features Alexander Kelly, Chris Thorpe and Jorge Andrade bringing stories from across the world into the intimate space of the Upstairs Theatre at Soho Theatre. Flowing from true life stories of terrorists who hijacked a plane thinking they could fly to Australia, to the strange and comical telephone service that allows you to repent your sins with a telephone-confession. These oddly mystifying stories pepper What I Heard About The World giving a sense of charm and amusement at how different people from across the world interpret the world around them.

At times laugh out loud, and at others an inward sigh, Kelly, Thorpe and Andrade lead the audience on an unexpected journey of stories that skip and soar through our imaginations. Often the sensation is like being brushed up against by an unknown substance or force, entirely otherworldly whilst still retaining a sense of understanding.

Whilst the sensation of going on a journey through stories might appeal to an audience of theatregoers, there is a sense that What I Heard About The World is a little too abstract and fragmented to hold a coherent narrative. The individual stories and moments are enlightening, and often surprising, yet the transformation from moment to moment seems entirely forced, this being because the very nature of theatre asks for some sense of framework to be able to leap from one story to another. The fluidity of these moments, for me at least, did not work, which is a shame given that there is a general curiosity towards some of the stories portrayed.

The collaboration between Kelly, Thorpe and Andrade has clearly been a fruitful one, but I’d be inclined to suggest that an external eye in the form of a dramaturg is needed to ensure that the piece runs at an effective pace and fluidity. The material gathered through the trio’s research is fascinating and continually enlighting, but I wonder if there isn’t a better way of presenting them. Whilst there are these niggling doubts that set the performance back slightly, what it does offer is a brilliant example of making you realise how utterly bemusing other people and their stories or outlooks on life can be. An enlightening if not completely rewarding show.

Chris Thopre is writing a new version of Robin Hood for the NSDF Ensemble production this year. The hour-and-a-half session took the form of a developmental workshop which explored the creative process of re-making this myth for modern times.

Chris led us through an initial brainstorming session which asked each of us to recount the story of the Robin Hood legend. A mass of outstretched arms surged into the air as we each began reeling off the familiar tropes: returning soldier, state seizure of land, deep wild woods, band of merry men, stealing from the rich, giving to the poor, etc.

As the list increased, we realised that ‘story’ and ‘myth’ are two different but related things. ‘Myth’ was framed as a culturally engraved series of readily available facts, while the ‘story’ (narrative) was a systematic reworking and recontextualisation of these facts. You might think this all sounds very academic, but Chris communicated it without allowing it to become a dry exercise in literary theory. Instead, we came to appreciate the legend’s potential significance for a twenty-first century milieu. Neither was Chris’s comparison of the tale to Rambo: First Blood reductive, but a means of comprehending its potential grittiness and the character’s underdog status. To be honest, who wouldn’t want to see Stallone don green tights, strap on a crossbow and spread quasi-Marxist propaganda throughout the leafy wilderness of Nottinghamshire? Heck, why not throw Jason Statham into the mix as Friar Tuck, include Bruce Willis as Little John and have ourselves an Expendables sequel of truly epic proportions?!

No one? Moving on…

We were then divided up into groups and allowed to work briefly on an outline of a scene. Our group set to work on a rough and ready narrative, in which the Sheriff attempted to compromise on a deal with Robin. Despite the fact there was little time and a large number of participants involved in this section of the workshop, we scratched together and performed a small scene to the rest of the group. It resembled PMQs, with our Sherrif of Cameron-shire slogging it out with the leader of the Milli-band of merry men. The rest of the pieces ranged from bleak social realism, absurd comedy, road movie styles, or more formal presentations on the development and trajectory of each scene.

Overall, the atmosphere of this workshop was alive, friendly, relaxed and fun. It made me excited for the Ensemble auditions later this week.

Chris Thorpe founded Unlimited Theatre and is part of Third Angel, the Sheffield-based performance company. He writes prolifically for radio, and is working on an adaptation on Mike Duff’s novel Lowlife for film.