Excel will be the death of me.

My eyes have gone square. I've been crunching numbers for the past few hours and unlike last time I have had neither Low nor her dairy-free cake to help me through it, I had to settle for a pot of tea and the Book of Mormon soundtrack - bizarrely invigorating to listen to!

It's occurred to me several times before, but more so today, that it would have been hugely helpful to have taken a class on fundraising applications at some point, as it seems to be a crucial part of any creatives existence. They're horrible. They go on for pages and pages and come with PDF's of guidelines and FAQ's and "Advice on How to Complete..." none of which is any use when you're actually writing them.
If you can imagine writing a cover letter for a job and thinking of all the reasons you're perfect for it and putting them into succinct sentences without too much repetition of "responsible" and "hard-working," and managing to finish it off with the correct variation of "yours whatever," but then, realising there's a second application in which you have to document how you'll spend every penny of the wage they probably aren't going to give you anyway, and explain what each expenditure brings you and justify it's cost. If you can imagine, that's what I've been doing today.
Fairly unsuccessfully.

Anyway, hopefully something comes of all this. Something more than my improved Excel sheets and ability to guestimate the cost of everything from printing to performances. We should be, and I certainly am, grateful that any kind of funding for new creative ventures exists at all!

TwentySomething will be sharing our plans for 2017 soon, (once we finalise them!) so keep an eye on Facebook and Twitter for what's coming next!

#KeepTheSecrets

First and foremost I should apologise because I’m about to deviate from the normal theme of this blog. Although when we first decided to start blogging our adventures we thought about blogging stuff we’d seen, not just stuff we’d made, but I haven’t really felt the need to write anything about something I’d seen, until now. On Saturday I saw Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.

Now, whatever your thoughts on the global, corporate, seemingly never-ending world of Harry Potter, I have to tell you that it was one of the best things I’ve ever seen. In all fairness I am a self-confessed Harry Potter obsessive, born at just the right time to climb on board the Hogwarts Express with him, live through high school, live through being a teenager (the fifth book where he basically only communicated in capital letters? That’s exactly what my brain felt like too.) all at the same time. So I am a sympathetic audience member to say the least.

It’s been just over forty-eight hours since I saw it and I have tried to stop thinking about it but it keeps coming back, constantly, because all I can think about is that I want to talk to someone about it. I want to talk about every bit of it, I want to go back over it again and again in minute detail. I want to talk to somebody about every movement, every look, every cadence in speech, I want to talk to somebody about everything I thought was wrong with it, every opportunity I thought they missed, every character who didn’t quite work, everything that didn’t quite make sense. And I want to talk to somebody about everything that was brilliant about it, everything that was perfect and sensational and purely, beautifully magical about it. I want to talk to somebody about every moment that made me jump out of my seat – I think I should have apologised to the people sitting behind me because I was the worst kind of audience member.

I should be so lucky to see theatre like that.

I should be so lucky to make theatre like that.

Because that’s what theatre is. Theatre is magical and transformative and transporting and it makes you gasp, and scream out and shout at these people on stage who are pretending to be something they aren’t. That’s what theatre is and I should be so lucky to make it.

In between the two shows I said I would have given my right arm to have been in the technical rehearsals, which I can only imagine went on for several weeks. There must have been something pretty amazing about being in the room when the magic worked for the first time. Because there was magic in that theatre and I believed in it. It’s magic that I’d seen hinted at before in a John Tiffany play. Peter Pan at the Festival Theatre, years ago, I had the same feeling then. The same feeling when I watched Peter crawl out of the top right-hand corner of the proscenium arch and walk, horizontal down to the stage. I felt that magic, magic that only happens in the theatre and while I can’t go in to detail about what happened this time round because #KeepTheSecrets I can say that it was even better. We all, everyone who makes theatre, be that as a writer or a director or an actor, we all wait for that moment when it works. It might be a line that wasn't landing but then suddenly it does and the whole play makes sense, or a prop that was clumsy until it became essential. The people who made Cursed Child got to experience that on a mammoth scale. They saw the characters click into place, the dialogue flow and they saw the magic work, they saw magic come to life. I would've given anything to be in the room when it happened. 

The story of Cursed Child was like finding a hidden chapter at the end of the seventh book – a hidden chapter that went on for several hours – and the best bit about it was I got to experience it with an entire theatre full of people. I got to learn more about that world at the exact same time as the people around me, which isn’t something I’ve been able to do with Harry Potter since I decided I couldn’t wait for my Dad to read them to me and started the third book in secret without him. I heard people gasp from the stalls and stood up with everyone in the circle to peer down below us and it was that collective experience that made it all the better. 

I’m so relieved that I loved it because I was terrified when I sat down. “Don’t touch your idols, the gold comes off on your hands.” That’s what I was scared of, I was so scared that this would ruin the perfect and sacred world, but it didn’t. I can’t shake the feeling that the world’s biggest Harry Potter fans were responsible for the production, because it could only have been made by people who really, really loved and respected the story. And (I say again!) that's what theatre is about. The best kind of theatre is made with love and respect and inspiration. So thanks to J.K., John Tiffany, Jack Thorne and the cast and the crew and whoever it was who made the end of the first play work because OH MY GOD. 

I count myself lucky to have seen theatre like that. 

I'd be even luckier if I could make it. 

Sweeney x

Coming out of Hibernation

I'm currently sitting at my dining room table surrounded by empty coffee cups, a tea pot, a half-finished slice of a delicious dairy-free chocolate cake and what seems like several thousand post-it notes. Oh yes, it's that time of year again - APPLICATIONS. Low and I have just trundled through the first batch of Fringe and funding applications for the year, accompanied by the relaxing sound of BBC Radio 4. Whilst we are nowhere near finished, thanks to the mammoth size of most funding application forms, we've definitely made a decent headway - decent enough that I will probably allow myself to finish off that half eaten slice of dairy-free cake that Low clearly didn't want or she would have taken it with her... It's a bit strange to already be thinking about Edinburgh Fringe when outside it is very clearly still the bleak midwinter, but terrifyingly most Fringe programmes will be confirmed within the next three months. Eek.

2016 was a great year for TwentySomething with Hell Has No Fury and For Our Tomorrow and we're hoping to build on their success in 2017. This year should see the emergence of some new work, although that is dependent on my ability to actually write anything new - so fingers crossed! We're also hoping to revive Hell Has No Fury and bring it to some new audiences.

Watch this space!

Sweeney x

(I ate the cake.)

Time to Breathe

As always it takes us a little while post-production to get a blog out. This time more so than most as Low and I whisked off on a sunny getaway just moments after For Our Tomorrow finished!

I should start off by saying thank you to everyone who came over the two nights. We appreciate it so much! Especially given they were mid-week, fairly late performances. Those who dealt with rail-replacement buses are heroes in our minds! We had a great time and the feedback has been amazingly positive. And no ones mentioned the ropey lights operated by yours truly so clearly I got away with that one!

If you weren't able to make it to the shows then fear not - I'll be adding some "production" photos (AKA pictures I took on my phone during dress rehearsal which will be heavily filtered before publishing) onto our Instagram and Facebook pages soon.

I'm sure I've said this before but it bears repeating how incredibly lucky TwentySomething are to have such wonderful people want to work with us. We simply couldn't have made For Our Tomorrow without the dedication and enthusiasm of our actress, Rowan, Jacqueline and Alex. It was no mean feat, getting to Edinburgh for late and long rehearsals in cold rooms, not to mention dealing with re-writes only a few weeks before the performance (sorry again Alex!) and they dealt with it all like the complete and utter professionals that they are. I can only hope that we haven't scared them all off and that we'll be able to work with them again sometime soon!

Up next for TwentySomething... who knows?! We'll keep you posted!

Sweeney x

Progress

I don't know how your Sunday night was but mine was fantastic. Last night we showed For Our Tomorrow to a small group of invited audience members  (eg. My parents, Alex's mum and assorted pals). It was great to have a proper audience - albeit one that was predisposed to positivity. The idea behind last night was for us to get feedback on how the play is shaping up and how we're staging it. Luckily everyone we invited had notes for us: parents can be surprisingly cutting - I'm looking at you Valerie!

It's always nerve-wracking to ask for feedback on work, especially when it's at such an early stage, but it has given us a few things to think about during the next few weeks.
By choosing to perform a play set during the First World War we've given ourselves a lot more work than we needed to. Low and I have spent a long time talking about how our limited (non-existent) budget will affect how we can make it clear to an audience when the play is set. Our thoughts, in general, are that naturalistic setting and costume only work when they can be done well. Realistically we can't create an authentic looking 1914s living room inside Roxy Central and so we aren't going to! Likewise our costumes won't be historically accurate either! Instead we're going to be giving a nod to the period without being too precious about naturalism!

Our other challenge is performing in the round. If anyone saw Sex and God, Low's first foray into directing in Dundee, you'll know that we love a play in the round. However it isn't easy to block, or light for that matter - but that might just be my inability to use a lighting desk. Roxy Central is a beautiful space too and so we want to make the best use of it we can.

Low and our actresses have a few more weeks of rehearsals before the show opens properly in October. I'm going to try not to send over too many rewrites in the meantime!

A reminder- Tickets are on sale on the Assembly Roxy website and we'll be selling them on the door too.

Sweeney x

Introducing: For Our Tomorrow

TwentySomething are back! After a few months of rest and relaxation... who am I kidding?! It was Fringe - Low and I are just happy to be alive! But anyway, the three of us are back in business and getting ready to share something entirely new. 

Our latest project, For Our Tomorrow, has been brewing in my mind for the best part of a year and a half now. It started in a classroom in Dundee and took me to the Progressive Playwright event at Tron Theatre, and now it's going to the Roxy. It's a period piece (something I'm always worried about telling people, less they think I've tried to dramatise Jane Austen) set during the First World War. I've always been fascinated by the lives women lived during both world wars; the way they took on jobs and responsibilities that would be handed back over to men a few years later. In particular I've always been struck by how their lives would be irrevocably and immeasurably changed by a war that would take away almost all the men they knew. 

For Our Tomorrow follows theee women from before the war starts to halfway through. Mairi, Anne and Lucy are each affected by the war in different ways and deal with it in different ways. I wanted to show the scope of what could happen to a woman during that time, and what a woman could do herself. 

Our characters will be played by three marvellous women; Jacqueline Thain, Alex Forrest and (we didn't scare her off in Prague!) Rowan Hall. We started rehearsals last nighr and despite the hilarity (keep your eyes peeled for an egg motif throughout the play) we actually managed to get a fair bit of work done: with Ms Low at the helm we were always going to be in safe hands! 

Tickets will be available from the Roxy website very soon and on the door each night of the performance. Keep up to date with our rehearsals on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram! 

Sweeney x 

Prague Fringe 2016

Prague Fringe 2016

We’re back! After days on end of 37ck beers and late night trips to McDonald’s – we’re back to reality. This year was my third at the Prague Fringe Festival and I think it might have been my favourite so far. The quality of performances this year was incredible and I think I speak for all of TwentySomething when I say how grateful we were to be a part of it.

"Prague Fringe is like Edinburgh in the 60s; intimate, friendly and fun." Jim Haynes. 

 For my sins, I spent the Fringe working as a Venue Supervisor and my every waking moment was dedicated to Fringe-life. Being part of two sides of the Fringe was an eye-opening experience (and one I’m sure I’ll be repeating before too long!) Prague Fringe is like nothing else. It's so small you can meet every other performer if you wanted to. It's so supportive that audiences can sometimes be made up entirely of other companies taking a break from promoting their own shows. Whilst I'm an Edinburgh Fringe regular, I have to say that my love for Prague is still going strong! 

Hell Has No Fury opened to a sell-out audience at the Golden Key on June 1^st. It was actually a little heart-breaking having to turn away Fringe staff at the door. The performance space had been described to us as a cellar, underneath a boutique hotel on the street leading up to Prague Castle. We didn’t really know what to expect beyond limited tech and limited space but we hoped that the room would add some atmospheric element to the piece. The venue completely lived up to our expectations. Heavy rain the day before meant there was water dripping down the back walls during our technical rehearsal (classic Prague), which filled the room with a damp, dank smell. The room was boiling – despite the two fans which had been furiously blowing air into it between shows – and only got warmer when filled with 22 expectant audience members (also classic Prague). I hadn’t realised how lucky we had been with our venue; that hot, cramped, enclosed atmosphere was so

perfect for performing the piece.

Bizarrely, this was the first time I had seen Hell Has No Fury performed. I was absolutely blown away. Rowan Hall is incredible and Prague Fringe thought so too, nominating her for their Performance Fringe Award. Being in that room on opening night was an utterly wonderful experience. 

All in all we had an amazing first (and most certainly not last) time at Prague Fringe! 

Up next for TwentySomething - keep an eye out for encore performances of Hell Has No Fury and it won't be too long before we have something completely different to share with you all! 

Sweeney.