A Bristol Sandwich - Lund/ Bristol/ Stamsund

10 - 23 May 2010

Loyal readers of the NIE blog might notice a few new authorial voices in the mix as we share out some of the blog reporting for NIE over the next few months..

After Lund we headed to Junges Ensemble Stuttgart (JES), Germany to play both Berlin 1961 and Everything Falls Apart as part of their anniversary celebrations. These went really well and the company really enjoyed seeing and meeting performers from some of the other shows in the festival.

After a days rest, NIE headed off to the UK to play Everything Falls Apart as part of Mayfest - an annual festival of contemporary theatre in Bristol. We were performing at one of our favourite UK venues, the Tobacco Factory and those who had been there before look forward to coming back.

Volcanic Ash and airline strikes did not hamper our travel endeavours so everyone got from Germany/ Belgium/ Norway/ Czech Republic to Southville in Bristol by Thursday for the set-up and get-in of the show.




Before we arrived we weren't sure how the height of the space would affect the show and if we would need to modify some bits, but once we had carried all our stuff into the space, we found ways and a spot to make Unai's scenes on the fridge work. The industrial building lent itself to the urban feel of the show, so once we had everything prepared the show looked great. Unai, Liz and Cat headed off to Bristol Radio for a quick interview explaining the show and the company.



After the get-in on Thursday we explored Bristol a bit more and saw some other shows as part of Mayfest - the ever-brilliant Will Adamsdale in The Human Computer at Bristol Old Vic studio and the massive installed outdoor performance Electric Hotel by the waterfront. Both shows are highly recommended so if you get a chance to catch them elsewhere I would get a ticket!

We had a great couple of show days in Bristol with 2 of the shows sold out - audiences seemed to really enjoy the promenade style and the story, appreciating the new ways we make shows without losing the NIE style. By Saturday night, we were once again packing up in our newly decorated van and heading over to Norway for the Stamsund International Theatre Festival next week.
www.stamsund-internasjonale.no

Posted by Cat Moore, UK producer for NIE

Stuck in Passau

In a perfect world, this post would have been called: driving by numbers: Graz-Berlin.

But I didn't make it to Berlin yet. I am in Passau.

One of my wheels came loose and I lost two bolts. 

I blame the man in Sweden who put the tyres on two weeks ago. Wouldn't you?

By the time the mechanic came to help me (it took him an hour and a half to arrive), the garage was already closed so I couldn't get those two bolts.

So I need to wait until tomorrow morning.

While I was waiting by the side of the motorway for the mechanic to come and fix the problem, I did this:

 

So the van is now a little less generic, and a little more NIE.

Everything Falls Apart at Spleen - Post 250

The get-in for Everything Falls Apart finished around 10pm, and as everything was set, we decided to have a later start the next day. 1.30pm would do - enough time for a music rehearsal, soundcheck and run through before Alex had to fly off back to the UK to prepare for a scratch performance of Sea Journey.

In the morning Iva, Anna, Alexander and I went for an international haircut. The ladies at the hairdresser were very nice, and once Anna's hair had been cut to the required length (I think she got about 20cm cut, if not more), and the kids were waiting for me and Iva, one of the ladies asked Iva if she could put some colour in Anna's hair, promising it would wash out with the first wash.
Iva agreed and shortly afterwards, Anna had some pink streaks in her hair. It was very cool, so Alexander wanted some colour too.
He got some blue.

 

I just got a trim, because I don't want my hair too short during winter.

In the afternoon, we went into TAO to rehearse EFA. It was great to come back to that show - the last time we did it was in September.
We made Beate run around a bit to pick up some stuff we broke/forgot/needed, and we were ready for the show.

Since TAO is a little bit narrower than the space we usually use, 80 people suddenly felt like a lot, but they found their way around and understood quite quickly that they could move to wherever they felt they would see best.

And then everything went very fast: we played, went to bed, got up, played again, packed up, had lunch, filled the van, got in cars/vans/trains.

Exit Graz...

My Life With the Dogs at Spleen

(the van arriving at the theatre - it has been 4 years since we were here last, and I had forgotten where to unload vans)

We got to the theatre at 9am and unloaded everything. TAO (Theater am Ortweinplatz) gave us a nice big room to put all of our stuff in. We went straight to work taking out the stage (we'd have to take out even more for Everything Falls Apart, so we thought we might as well start with the stage immediately).
Clemens and his colleagues were very fast and moved on to hanging lights and our enormous sodium lamp in no time. 

Tom went missing for about an hour - he didn't emerge from the train Beate was picking him up from, and while she searched the train for a sleeping actor, Iva phoned anyone she thought could have more information on Tom's whereabouts. Tom himself wasn't answering his phone, and after several tries we decided his battery must have run out.

Doom scenarios were constructed: did he forget to get off? If he did, where could he be? Bratislava? Further? Or did he miss the train altogether?
Four people confirmed he got on the train. Or at least left the theatre in Prague on time to make it onto the train.

An hour and a half later he walked into the theatre.
Due to reorganisation of the train he was on, there was a delay which made him miss his connection from Vienna to Graz. As simple as that. He used someone else's phone to reassure everyone we had succeeded in worrying, and then helped us with setting up for a run through.

The show in the evening was very full, and a lot of fun. The audience made them come back for five curtain calls. (Five!)

 

In the meanwhile Liz had arrived and we took her along to the festival centre for some food and drinks. (And a lot of praise from the people who had seen the show).

When we got back to the hotel, Unai arrived. He'd come from Vittoria to Graz via Palma de Mallorca.

The next morning (well, noon), we played a second show to mainly teenagers. It was great fun again.

This was our walk to the theatre:

 

After we finished, it was time for a lot of action. Kjell and I went for lunch while the others packed the set, and an hour later we swapped teams and I made Clemens and his colleagues take all of the seats out of the theatre.

Most of our shows are very simple and we generally don't ask for much, but with Everything Falls Apart it is quite a different story. But I think that after all of these years of being flexible and simple, we deserve to be more demanding now.
Clemens didn't seem to mind, he kept smiling and didn't ever call me a slave driver.

Driving by numbers 19: Berlin-Graz

Distance: nine hundred and thirty six kilometres
Duration: nine hours and seventeen minutes
Idiot drivers: none
Snow during the last 5 hours.

When I arrived in Graz, the Moberg family, Alex and Bob were already there. I got there at 6pm and after showing off my new van we headed to the festival hub to get some food. We met Ossi who had invited us there and whose theatre we were about to perform in. He was in great form.

Graz was covered in snow and cold. But the festival atmosphere made up for the cold. Colombo was there as well - Sgaramusch had performed the day before and he stayed behind to be in the jury of the Jungwild section of the festival.
Jungwild are young people who make theatre. Three of them would win a prize to help them develop their work further.

We had some drinks with old friends and new friends, and then headed back to the hotel to get some sleep after a long travel day and before some long festival days.

A great day in total darkness

Iva phoned me yesterday to discuss some future things, and while we were talking she said that the culture contact for the school we were going to today said we could have as much darkness as we wanted.
I said I'd have all of it.

For those of you who are not familiar with the kind of touring we are doing right now: we play in schools. Usually in gyms. And gyms usually have a strip of windows just below the ceiling. They are usually impossible to reach and sometimes there are no blinds.
Since it's harder to create the magic and illusion of theatre in broad daylight, we always ask schools to come up with something. Sometimes they stick black binliners along the windows, sometimes they attach an enormous tarpaulin to the roof.
But Norwegian sunlight is very bright, and it is never easy to make it pitchblack.

But some schools have gyms without windows. That's where we were today. The main thing the darkness does is make it easier for the children to focus. And to imagine they're not in their gym.


In the meanwhile Kjell is looking for a new van. If all goes well, I'll be driving a new van to Germany on Saturday, and from there I will take it to Graz in February. We will be bringing a lot of stuff to Graz, and all that stuff doesn't fit in our current van (which died a few months ago anyway, so that was no option).

The other recurring issue is the chairs for Everything Falls Apart. Due to lack of van-space, we've been buying them all over Europe.
Until....
Ikea stopped producing them. Iva then sourced a different type of chair for the shows we did in Czech Republic. They were quite similar, but not the same.
Today I found out that our trusted Oddvars are back in stock. So I'll pick up a few extra on the way to Graz.

Everything Kept Falling Apart

We have been immensely busy this week, hence no blog posts. I'll try and catch up with this post.

So this is what happened since Horn:

Friday night: a wild night for some
Saturday morning: a rough morning for some, combined with driving from Horn to Prague.
Saturday afternoon: some more NIE people arrive in Prague. Kjell, Iva, Alex, Cat and I had a meeting about the meeting.
Sunday afternoon: NIE meeting in cafe Montmartre in Prague about making a new Montmartre agreement and working out how our mental touring could stay as mental as it is without killing anyone.

This is the meeting.

This is NIE at Montmartre.

(when I have time in the near future, I will do a photoshop job and put in all the people who couldn't make it last Sunday: Lenka, Henrik, Margit, Kieran, Tuan, Honza, Bara, Tarek and Hannah)

Monday morning: get-in at La Fabrika in Prague
Monday afternoon: play the first show at 5pm
Monday evening: play the second show at 8pm
Monday night: strike at La Fabrika

Monday was not such a good day. We were told that the company that would take us across the Atlantic in November is going bankrupt and cancelled our booking on the banana boat. Alex phoned Cat and asked if she could fix something.

Tuesday morning: drive to Jindrichuv Hradec.
Tuesday afternoon: get-in in Jindrichuv with the same brilliant technicians who helped us in Horn.
Tuesday evening: dinner and an early night in Jindrichuv.

Wednesday morning: 10am show to teenagers of Jindrichuv. It was great fun.






Wednesday lunchtime: get-out at Jindrichuv.
Wednesday afternoon: travel home (for me: five hundred and fifty four kilometres, nine hours and seven minutes, three idiot drivers).
And Cat found us a new cargo ship to sail across the Atlantic with. Top job! I've ordered myself a singing saw to celebrate. I will try to learn and play it on the boat, but I might try a little bit before we set sail, otherwise Alex might kill me (or saw my head off) before we see land.

Today I've been chasing a lighting desk for hours. It wasn't fun. I ended up letting go and getting a different one that didn't have to be chased.
Tomorrow I will go back on the ferry to Norway, to rehearse with the guys from the Song of Lost Treasures. On Sunday we're going to the UK with the Dogs.
Three different shows in four different countries in just over a week. You have to admit that's pretty good going.

Everything Falls Apart in The Waldviertel

We just went to Szene Bunte Wähne, which is one of my favourite festivals. It's in a place called Horn, a small town in the Waldviertel of Austria. One of the great things about it is the place we perform in: an old barn that comes with a voluntary fireman who has the most amazing white beard. He's there every year and looks after the space and the bar.

The other great thing about it is that international delegates from across the world travel down to this small town to see international theatre, so you find yourself at the festival centre talking to people from Canada, Korea, Scotland, Liechtenstein and so on.
I always wonder what the people of Horn make of this sudden foreign invasion.

I did some time lapse photography in the barn.
This is our get-in.

This is the 10am show we played on Friday.

There was something very bizarre about our accommodation: every night when I got back, my bed hadn't been made. The others said theirs had been made. But I could see from the folded edge of the toilet paper that someone had been in the room. Every day they folded the toilet paper edge into a nice triangle, but for some reason unknown to me they would not make my bed. Why would that be?

At the moment we are in Prague for a company meeting - most of the NIE members are here so we can sit together and discuss our future plans of roaming the world.

Tomorrow we will play in La Fabrika, and then we move on to Jindrichuv Hradec. It's a very full week, but it's great to have the chance to play our newest show.

Travel by Numbers 15: Berlin - Horn

Distance: five hundred and ninety eight kilometres
Duration: ten hours and four minutes
Idiot Drivers: one, and one cyclist on the Czech motorway

The Operatic Fight

When we were in Stuttgart, Dave, Tom, Liz and Bob, worked out a more advanced version of the opera part of the fight scene. Here in Porsgrunn they worked on it a bit more. This is still in the early stages, but I think if you know NIE, you know this will develop more and more as the show is being played more.

Geeks, soft ice and the water taxi

The morning after our first performance, we hung around in the horse riding place and had a geeky morning. This sometimes happens with NIE. Everyone gets their computers out and exchanges tips and tricks. This is a side of NIE most people probably don't know...


We did eventually decide we had to go out and enjoy the sun.
And some soft ice.


When we arrived at the festival centre to have some lunch, we were offered a boat ride to the venue. It was fantastic. This is Lars, who chauffeured us all the way to work.

Life in Porsgrunn

The PIT festival is very very nice. There are a lot of incredibly nice festival across Europe, and each of them is nice for different reasons. PIT is nice because it's in summer, it's in a beautiful town and it's run by very nice people.

We were staying in a horse riding place. This was our building.



There was a list of the rooms that were ours, and we were apparently called the NIE underdogs. Although Underdogs was most probably the name of another company performing in the festival.


After our first show we went into town to the festival centre. The below pictures were taken between 9pm and 11pm. Summer in Norway - it doesn't go dark.

The camera I had at this moment had something called Smile Shutter, which we were testing out. Basically it will only snap when the subject is smiling.


Everyone was enjoying the late evening Norwegian sun, and as NIE touring usually means very long winters, we stayed outside for as long as we could, until it got a little bit too chilly.


The river leading to the fjord. If you follow the river, you arrive first at our fantastic venue, and a bit later at the sea.

The building

Porsgrunn found us an amazing place to perform at. Porsgrunn Bad. The building itself had been built and bombed by the Germans, used to be a porcelain factory, then a gokarting place, it had several other purposes throughout the years, and now it is mostly empty and very dusty.

As soon as we arrived we started setting up and all got very dirty in no time at all.
The people from the festival tried everything to get rid of most of the dust, but it was near impossible to get rid of decennia of accumulated dust, so we just avoided to many brusk movements that would trigger a cloud of dust to fill the space.


Standing with your back to our front door, this is the view:


This is where we played. The first floor of the furthest part of the building: the four big windows just in front of the two smaller ones...

Travel by Numbers 12 : Berlin-Porsgrunn

Driven distance: six hundred and one kilometres
Driving time: seven hours and thirty seven minutes
Ferry crossings: two
Time on boats: fifteen and a half hours
Idiot drivers: none

Driving into ferry number one (Kiel-Göteborg)

My cabin



The arrival of ferry number two (Stromstad-Sandefjord)

Driving off ferry number two

Junges Ensemble Stuttgart celebrates its 5th birthday

And we were there to help celebrate. I drove from Oslo to Stuttgart, which is many kilometres and many hours and only one idiot driver, met up with the guys at Dave and Grete's barbecue, and got dragged around Stuttgart by Kjell, who had to show me his newly acquired local knowledge.
The next day we started the get-in at 10pm, knowing that if we'd forgotten or broken anything, there would be no shop to get a replacement, as the next day was May 1.

But the people from JES solved anything that came up, and we were ready to play at 8pm on May 1.

The family Zog was more than ready...

And so were the bare-chested ladies.

On Sunday I went from Stuttgart to Oslo, which was not as easy as it sounds and definitely not as cheap as it sounds.
But I got there in the end and brought Kjell back home to his family.

I've now taken over from Honza on the Song tour and am hoping to bypass the bad luck that's been on their heels last week. They had a very tough week where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Poor Honza said goodbye, saying he hoped the curse would leave him before he got on the plane back to Czech Republic.
The leftovers of their cursed week is that every morning I have to spray the car into action with some special gas that goes straight into the engine. So every morning I disconnect a tube, spray into the other end of it, and start the car with a bang. It's an unusual morning routine, but then again if all mornings were usual, life would be very very boring.


In the meanwhile we are very close to booking our transatlantic boat trip which will happen in the autumn. Isn't that exciting? I think it is.

Travel by Numbers 11 - Berlin - Oslo

Yes! I'm on the road again.
Being in one place for over two weeks has made me a bit jittery, so on a sunny Sunday, I drove to Kiel to find my boat.


If you click on the following picture, it will open up a bigger version of it and you'll be able to see the tiny little boats watching the massive big boat.



Driving distance: six hundred and sixty four kilometres
Driving time: eight hours
Sailing time: fourteen hours
Idiot drivers: one

The guys at the ferry on both sides (Germany and Sweden) found it very confusing that I was Belgian driving a Norwegian van from Germany to Sweden. They urgently need to develop a more European or even cosmopolitan mentality.
I passed the breathaliser test without difficulty and drove off.

In Oslo I visited the new NIE office in the centre of the city. It's very nice. I wouldn't mind living there, apart from the fact that I wouldn't want to live in an office. But if all the offices would move out, it would make a perfect home for me...
(centre of the city, garden, fire place, high ceilings, lots of light,...)
I had coffee with Iva and waited for Honza to get back from playing the Song in a school in Mysen (they're on tour as well).

Once Honza arrived, we both drove to the storage space to change the contents of my car for most of the content of the storage space. It was a race against the clock, because his Caravelle was being checked out at the garage which was closing at 6pm, and the storage place was also closing at 6pm and we had our weird collection of set all over the place.
We just made it and drove into the garage at 5.58pm.

At the garage they told us his car had the wrong tyres.
But the garage was closing, so all we could do was drive back to base (Moberg house). Once there, after many phone calls back and forth with the Viking in Stuttgart, it was decided that Honza would get the tyres that were supposed to go on my Caravelle (everyone should have his own Caravelle), and I would get new tyres in Germany.
So Honza set about changing tyres.




And as old tyres came off one Caravelle, they were fitted into the other Caravelle in order to be driven to Germany where they will be turned into the right tyres. (I don't fancy going into details about right and wrong tyres now. If you're desperate to know, write me an email and I'll see if I'm willing to elaborate then).



Eventually, all was fixed. So now both Honza and I are completely equipped to deal with our respective next bit of touring.



This last image is one I found posted on a wall in one of the Berlin metro stations. The tragedy of it struck me so strongly I had to post it here.
It just might help.
(Again, you may have to click on it to be able to read it. You may also need to know German to be able to understand it.)

End of the Seminar

We finished the seminar with a Grand European Dinner. We had asked all participants to bring something from their country. The fact that more than half of them had brought liquids was cause for a few laughs. For a moment we were worried there wouldn't be enough food for everyone, but there was plenty.


The Danes had written a manual of how to make a proper Danish sandwich. It was the DIY part of the table.


And of course there was the international alcohol, followed by a challenge of who's slivovice was the best. I don't think anyone won, considering no one refused any of them.




After dinner there was Music for a While,