This month Emma Jane Denly speaks to Tom Penn of Little Bulb Theatre, who are currently in residence at the Battersea Arts Centre. She plays devil‘s advocate with the question of music’s purpose in theatre…

TP: Music is one of the most powerful means of communication we possess. It has the power to overwhelm and to be delicate, to sentimentalise and to be ironic. When used with due care and attention, it has the faculty to transcend immediate thought, and access a deeper, often surprisingly emotional, response. An enormous amount of my time is spent accompanied by music, be it the ‘soundtrack to my life’ that happens to be buzzing around inside my head at the time, or the more tangible mp3 player, squeezing the same old songs into my ears as I board the 345 to Peckham. Why? Because I enjoy my life more when there is music playing. Subsequently I find it difficult, perhaps impossible, to imagine a reason I would have for not including music in my work in theatre.

EJD: Perhaps there’s a case for arguing that music has the power to distract as well as complement, in both your own life and indeed in theatrical productions. Pick the wrong song and the effect can be as small as creating a slightly jarring scene on-stage that doesn’t fit with the rest of the show or as large as being totally alienating for an audience. You wake up and accidentally play one of Enya’s less upbeat tracks through your headphones: rest of the day is then potentially overshadowed by a sense of depressive doom (no offence intended to Enya). Play a rock song in the middle of a show, and all delicacy is sent crashing to the floor. If these effects are intended, then fair enough, but isn’t all music subjective? How can you make an entire audience react in the same way?

TP: I’m not sure that you can, but I certainly don’t see that as a consideration to be taken only with music. I would suggest that any aspect of any theatre show will be viewed subjectively, and therefore it is the theatre-maker’s responsibility to understand and appreciate this, whilst using everything they have at their disposal in order to best serve the moment. When approaching a new piece of work, you come armed with your full toolkit, and you try your best to use those tools wisely. Music is just one of the means we have with which to communicate, and is as valuable to the process as any other. It comes hand in hand with the text, or the movement, or the design – there is no reason one should be separated of given greater significance than the others. If given careful thought and artistically driven, the music will form as vital part of any narrative or atmosphere as any other discipline.

EJD: Do you think then that this kind of music is different to the “conventional” type – and I use this phrase carefully, meaning only music that is not intended for narrative effect – or whether it is the same as something that we can buy or listen to on its own terms? It’s almost as though you are implying that music in theatre is a precise and exact science (the same way perhaps lighting or choreography can be viewed as such), which could make it seem artificial – or failing that then at least oppressed in some way. Do you think that theatre-music is its own art-form – or could it be listened to in the same way as Queen, Fairport Convention or – yes, I’m going there – Enya?

TP: I don’t think that an exact science exists for making music or any kind of theatre. I think there are guidelines available if you want them, but once you get past a certain point, you’re out there on your own. You try something different, something new, in the hope that it will be what you want it to be, and then as long as you learn a little bit each time, you’ll be ready to have another go soon enough. As for whether theatre music is its own art form, I’m not so certain that it can be categorised that neatly. Yes, when used for a specific purpose in a piece of theatre, that music must be precisely what was asked for and needed in that moment, whether newly composed or a well-known classic. But that’s not to say it doesn’t retain individual worth when removed from context. Take Kneehigh‘s ‘Don John’ Soundtrack – I can’t get enough of those tracks still, however many years later. I know the scores and soundtracks to countless films and shows I haven’t seen. I adore the music, and that’s it. Ultimately, in the context of the show or film itself, if that music does not serve the very moment for which it was intended, then it hasn’t fulfilled its purpose, and the final product was probably weaker for it. But there’s nothing to stop me from enjoying it separately – much like I can be satisfied, impressed and even moved by the way natural lighting occurs within a particular environment at any point in my day, music serves a multitude of purposes. Its use in theatre should be treated with the same thought and precision as every other aspect of the production, and when it works, it has the ability to colour and to lift that moment to an altogether new height. The rest of the time, it should just be worth listening to.

EJD: So theatre-music is perhaps just made to fit its definition by the selection process: the artistry lies in the ability of the theatre-maker to select and refine a piece of music for a particular theatrical moment that is utterly appropriate. I’m sure the wave of other companies who take music in theatre very seriously – Kneehigh, RashDash, Third Angel – would be inclined to agree.

Little Bulb Theatre’s Orpheus runs at BAC from 16 April – 11 May, and Tom is performing his solo work at Cambridge Junction’s SAMPLED Festival on Sunday 5 May.

Image: Headphone Throw Pillow

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.

Our friends over at Soho Theatre have offered A Younger Theatre readers half price tickets to Third Angel’s newest show What I Heard About the World. We can’t wait to see the show, so now you can see it for as cheap as £5 (if you’re a concession!)

Below is the marketing blurb and below that is the wonderful offer code. Enjoy!

50% off tickets for A Younger Theatre readers at Soho Theatre
Until Sat 3 March, 7.45pm

Join Third Angel and mala voadora as they attempt to describe the world. As they try to hold an accurate picture of the whole world in their heads. A world that seems to get bigger by the day. How on earth can you know all the places you’ve been, let alone the places you haven’t?
‘The great thing about Third Angel is you never know what you’re going to get… heavenly work.’  Guardian

50%  off tickets (usually £10-£15) for A Younger Theatre members for performances Wed 22 – Wed 29 February 7.45pm, plus 3.30pm matinee Sat 25 Feb

To claim your discount go to www.sohotheatre.com choose your tickets for shows from 22-29 February and enter promotion code YOUNGER – your discount will be shown at checkout. Or call the box office on  020 7478 0100  and quote YOUNGER.

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.