Weird isn’t it. Years of the same old thing and then suddenly, without warning...tomorrow is a stranger.

Hi folks,

Tonight The Cherry Orchard, our Cherry Orchard is about to be out in the world. The press are coming to judge.

And I am a mess.

The last couple of weeks, through tech and previews I’ve been riddled with anxiety nightmares. What's worse is that they mainly involve me being hunted down and shot, which is such a pat metaphor for anticipated critical reception that I wake up annoyed with how unimaginative my sleeping mind is.

I try to dream of better things as often as possible. And I still don’t have any idea what’s going to happen to me.

To reassure myself, I repeat the advice I give to people when they're in this situation - that the nerves just mean that you care - but of course all sound advice becomes terrible when you're not able to hear it. I'm not a particularly prolific writer, my last new play was on four years ago - almost exactly to the the day - so press nights are a rare and horrible thing. I understand why they exist but there is something galling about years of work relying on whether the person coming to see it is in a good mood, or is keen on the kind of play that it is, or even if they've just seen something similar recently. The day after is not much better. I wrote a guide for how to handle reviews a few years back which maybe I'll read for myself again tomorrow but....yeah. Solidarity to anyone who has to go through this.

Only when I arrived here in Yalta did I find out anything much about Three Sisters...it seemed as thought it had not ben much of a success, because people who had read the newspapers weren't saying much about it, while Masha was praising it to the skies in her letters. Well, it's all one to me anyhow.

That's enough about what's to come.

Today, I'm going to talk through a little of my experience of previews because I think that's a part of theatre that's probably opaque to both new theatre makers and the public too. In the simplest terms, previews are when the show is technically open to the public - usually at a lower price - but with the understanding that there is still work to be done, both for the actors and the other creatives. The show is probably/hopefully 75-80% there but it needs a trial period to see what works as you'd hope, what doesn't work at all, and where there's still opportunities for fine touches.

 

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THEY BUILT A SPACESHIP AT THE YARD

But. Before I go on, I just want to marvel at how designer Rosie and her associate Tomás have created a real machine as the set of this play. If you're not in the theatre world, you probably won't fully appreciate what an achievement it is to make something like this when you don't have the budget of one of the bigger theatres but every time I see it, I can't stop smiling. I'm sharing these below images with the permission of Rosie and Jai who lit it, with the caveat that the preview period is also them still building their work so this is all unfinished states but I mean. Look at it. 

Look at it.



And it keeps moving for the whole bloody show.

I have a bajillion other beautiful pictures but I am restraining myself because it honestly looks better now and more so in person. Rosie said something to me last week which I hadn't fully appreciated - when designing the future, everything has to be a choice. The intensity of thought and consideration that went into everything about this show's production I've found strangely moving. Like I still find it hard to occasionally shake the feeling of "What have I done?!" but to see what astonishing work has been done because of it. Right to the end, little tweaks added by Rosie and the associate costume designer, Malena, have been a treat because they all speak to the world and to people who have properly invested in the gesture of the work.

Seeing it go to HOME in November will be a strange, wonderful thing. It will miss the intimacy of the Yard, but the space will give another dimension to it, I think. Either way, I just marvel. The Covid years have been particularly rough for designers. Put respect on their names whenever you can.
 

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BUILDING THE SPACESHIP

The rough process of previews is this: The performance happens, during which the various creative departments sit with their notebooks open and jot down thoughts. After the show goes down, the departments will meet to discuss what needs doing and how that will happen the day after. If the show is short, the director might be able to do some notes with the actors afterwards. If the director is not the artistic director of the venue or organisation, then you'd also likely expect notes and thoughts from them too.

In our case, we'd gather again the next morning or afternoon (depending on what work needs to be done), and James, the director, would talk through his performance notes with the cast. If there's anything I thought would be useful to add that speaks to what James was saying already, I would do it here. If I had something more discordant or bigger, I would e-mail it or have a conversation. Some of those notes would then be worked through on the stage, particularly if they involved changing movements or entrances or props, and then a dinner break and...the show and process goes on again.

For me, this particular preview process has been a lesson in patience and humility. James is by far the most experienced director I've worked with so I was always trying to understand how he operated. He's also far more relaxed as a person than I am. I'm so keen to jump in with everything when, actually, it can't all happen at once. It's too confusing. It's too much to hold. The actors are brilliant, and I think working with James has taught me to trust that they for the most part know what needs doing before you do. He's also good at admitting or suggesting that he's got something wrong, which is not a universal quality in lead creatives. It was galvanising to see that someone who has seen in as many shows as he has was not pretending that he was a mastermind. He reflected what I've always tried to tell newer theatre makers - that process trumps genius every time and before a show opens properly everyone needs a chance to get it wrong a lot before it goes right.

It can be a bit weird knowing what to do with yourself in this period when you're the writer. This time, I've tried to be helpful while not treading on too many toes. I've happily talked through ideas and thoughts that the actors have brought to me. I've tried to praise specific choices that have brought me joy and equally tried to properly think through and be clear about any shifts I think need to happen. I guess I've also attempted to be a sort of pastoral support around the production, doing my best to boost moral when we've had long or tough days.

And there have, of course, been a fair few tough days. Our preview run period was a little curtailed due to tech issues, which is not unusual with a show that's this complicated. But, as I've said just now, things going wrong is sort of what previews are all about. The maxim people would leap to when something....did not quite work as planned...is: "It's better that went wrong in previews!"

Which is entirely true! I admit though, it doesn't mean that it's not emotionally hard. I find myself impatient to be able to see the show that you've been dreaming about, that you've been talking about. It's difficult to be able to express to others what you've made when you're not fully sure what it is or even if it works at all. So I usually mark down in my calendar or on a ticket the night that a play worked. With Cherry Orchard, it was bizarrely early - second preview. The actors had the play more fully in their body, the jokes landed, the feelings were felt. I was bloody delighted! This was followed, naturally, by a performance where we had to stop the show twice because of things going wrong to an extent that it wouldn't be right to continue. I want to give some love here to our stage management team - Heather, Devika and Sussan - who dealt with both instances impeccably. Managing a show stop is an art in itself, its own little piece of theatre and its real credit to them that - despite the issues - the audience were able to come back and pick up with the energy they left with.

Last night was our final preview and while I'm far too close to it to know anymore for sure...I think that show was the best yet? It will only deepen as it goes on. As the actors find new depths in themselves and the characters. As transitions get slicker. As the Chekhovian qualities find their most mesmeric rhythms. I've been with this play for so long. I can't wait to step away and come back to it in a couple of days and be delighted anew.
 

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There are orchards all over this universe. It’s vast and beautiful and full of miracles.

 

The place I want to finish is with an acknowledgement of what has felt like a real sea-change in the quantity of terrific South Asian theatre work happening in the last couple of years. Such shifts always seem fragile but theatre has started to become the place I would’ve dreamed of starting off in all those years ago. So while I may be in a lonely moment personally, artistically I’ve never felt more a part of something.

I’ll give a particular shoutout to two plays that are also going up this month. First is The P-Word written by Waleed Akhtar which is at the Bush Theatre now until the 22nd October. I read a very early draft when I was writer-in-residence there and it was already a beautiful piece - moving, funny, necessary. I can’t wait to see what Anthony Simpson-Pike (The Yard’s deputy artistic director) has done with it.

Likewise, Rabiah Hussain’s Word-Play opens at the Royal Court on the 29th September and, knowing her from briefly working together and seeing her first play, Spun, I'm sure it’ll be a ferocious piece of work that will no doubt reflect Rabiah’s ferocious intellect and talent for bitterly accurate and acerbic observation.

So yeah! That’s it. I’m not certain when or if these newsletters will be back but I hope they’ve been entertaining/illuminating/encouraging/mortifying. Going to now bury myself in a hole with my laptop and get all the other work done that I’m (still) so late with - thank you again to those I do owe work to who have been patient with me. 

This is my own version of leaving the estate/ship at the end of the play, but at least I know it’s in capable hands. How people will react to what we’ve made here, I don’t know. That’s OK. I only know that this production has been a profound, playful experience for me. I've had the opportunity to make something that I feel is unique and pushes a few conversations on and I've been lucky enough to have such talented collaborators. I'm proud of them. I'm proud of it. I'm proud of me? Yeah. F*ck it. I am.

You can’t expect someone to love what we’ve made - you can only hope that they see in it what you do and that, either way, it helps them see where they want to go next.

With love, gratitude and anxiety, from the floor of an East London theatre.

(Where there are, sadly, no cats - but they built a bloody spaceship)

Vin x
If you're new to Patelograms, like what you've read and want to read more, the archive is here.
If you're an old hand, thanks as ever for sticking this out with me. It was nice to have the company.

The Cherry Orchard runs at the Yard Theatre between 5th September and 22nd October 2022. It then goes to HOME from the 2nd to the 19th November