Does anyone still wear – gloves? Royals, of course, still consider them an essential element in the capsule wardrobe – anything to protect them from the clammy-handed flesh of the commonweal. Driving gloves suit men of a certain age and Rover-loving air of Alan Partridge. And commuters scatter single woolly numbers on public transport all through the winter. But a lady’s elegant, elbow-tweaking … [Read more...]
Propwatch: the bell in Amsterdam
Ping! There’s a bell on the desk in Amsterdam. The kind of calling-for-immediate-attention bell that invites a sharp smack with palm or finger, and drives Basil Fawlty to the very verge of derangement. Ping! It’s a comedy device – an indicator of short-fuse entitlement, an enhancer of retro-farce chaos. It retains its comic tinge in Amsterdam, by Israeli playwright Maya Arad Yasur; which is … [Read more...]
Propwatch: the photo album in Appropriate
In Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant?, her graphic memoir about her parents’ old age, the New Yorker cartoonist Ros Chast has some advice about hoarding. Don’t hold onto anything you don’t want your kids to have to sort through once you’re gone. In her case, plastic tchotchkes beyond number. In my case, look forward to old theatre programmes and a surprising quantity of wooden spoons. … [Read more...]
Propwatch: the kettle in The Doctor
Is a home without a kettle even a home? ‘Oh David, such a homemaker,’ sighed a visitor to my spartan university room, softened only by a kettle and the complete Arden Shakespeare. But the kettle was hospitality and self-care for a scaredy-cat student; even today it amplifies (and, on grouchy days, paves the way back towards) connection. A kettle is the first step towards home. In The Doctor – … [Read more...]
Propwatch: the takeaway cartons in the end of history…
I love food, but I love cooking even more. The shopping and chopping, the stirring and serving. Cooking for other people is a pleasure, a game, an expression of care. At heart, I’m a caterer. So it was remarkably upsetting to see food repeatedly announced yet never enjoyed in Jack Thorne’s new play the end of history… at the Royal Court. Each of the three acts – set a decade apart, from 1997 to … [Read more...]
Propwatch: the hammock in The Night of the Iguana
It’s long, saggy and full of holes. But there’s more than that to The Night of the Iguana, one of Tennessee Williams’ lesser-loved plays. Though there’s never enough love for Williams’ characters, especially in this play from 1961. The defrocked priest Shannon has been craving a sojourn on Maxine’s veranda – rum-coco in hand, stretched out in the hammock, which he unfurls as soon as he … [Read more...]
Propwatch: the lighter in Venice Preserved
In the opening scene of Venice Preserved at the RSC, a rebel recruits a desperate friend to the cause. His indignation is scorching hot, so of course he pulls out a lighter, itching to burn the rotten state to the ground. In Thomas Otway’s tense, too much neglected Restoration tragedy (1682), a viciously corrupt Venice has reduced Jaffeir (Michael Grady-Hall) to ruin. He covertly married a … [Read more...]
Propwatch: the telephone in Present Laughter
Did you see that video of two teenagers baffled by a dial-up phone? Nothing is guaranteed to make you feel jurassic like watching the routine technology of your childhood appear irrefutably foreign. In an age when even buttons feel vintage – when, let’s face it, the idea of making actual phone calls rather than messaging seems pretty bloody weird – no wonder post-millennials boggle at such a … [Read more...]
Propwatch: the seeds in King Hedley II
Some props haul their own metaphors on stage with them. When King (Aaron Pierre), recently released from prison, sprinkles flower seeds over an unpromising scrub of soil outside his Pittsburgh home – well, you don’t need dramaturgical skills to wonder if the severely challenged little seeds will mirror King’s own struggle to nurture a new, post-prison life. King Hedley II, August Wilson’s 2001 … [Read more...]
Propwatch: the stuffed duck in Rutherford & Son
There’s barely a scrap of frivolity in the Rutherford home. The home of a Tyneside manufacturing family in the 1910s, it’s imposing, substantial, stuffed to the gunwhales with heavy furniture – yet you struggle to spot anything that isn’t grimly functional or solid enough to break your toe should you drop it. Whatever else it is, the house of Rutherford is not a house of fun. Githa Sowerby … [Read more...]