Master and Margarita, Theatre Collection at The Lord Stanley
Ever since the night I squeezed into the semi derelict Wilton Theatre with nearly 30 other random people to watch an obscure puppet show, I have loved the dingy above-pub hand made theatre experience. The more down at heel, usually the better the atmosphere. The puppets in question that occasion were Boris and Sergy: two vaguely mental, vaguely Eastern European vaudeville puppets that chaotically ripped through armed robberies and gambling dens whilst enacting scene from various Hollywood block busters. It was hugely entertaining and I laughed so much my face hurt. Anyone who has met me will know this is a rare occurrence indeed.
They were not everyone’s cup of tea though. If you had come along expecting a kids puppet show you would have been slightly peeved, if not grossly offended. This is indeed half the fun of fringe theatre.
Theatre Collection are a group based in a small, shabby but atmospheric, pub theatre above the Lord Stanley Pub on Camden Park Road just north of the increasingly epic Kings Cross regeneration. The Lord Stanley itself is a gastro pub, all gourmet burgers, potato wedges and rocket salad with wooden tables and three kinds of mayonnaise. It is also the sort of place that needs to be candle lit so you don’t notice the stains and vintage dirt.
The Theatre Collection inhabit the room above, accessible only by a single door to a twisting and creaking narrow staircase. The small stage is within touching distance of the two banks of benches laid out for the audience of no more than 40 people. Paint peels off the walls, the windows rattle and the bare concrete slab floor has years of dents and pits. The wiring and lighting could be described at best as charmingly vintage or down right dangerous depending on how you look at these things. However this is definitely not a criticism, in fact a level of vintage, shabby surroundings are essential to fringe theatre and very much part of the energy of the performance. Consider a fringe theatre performance played out in the fluorescent sterile timber expanse of your local Wagamanas for example.
Theatre Collection are a small company, in existence since 2009. They were founded by Kosovar Albanian Shaban Arifi and Russian artistic Director Victor Sobchak. They specialise in Anglo-Russian Theatre, describing it rather expansively as ‘A collection of world drama: from medieval farces and classic to modern international drama and new writing’. Not a whole lot missing from that then really. They have a reputation for intense short runs, with daring concepts and a risk taking edge.
I am not likely to miss someone having a go at an adaptation of the Master and Margarita. In fact I have been waiting for years for Hollywood to make its attempt at adapting Bulgakov’s work of genius for the cinema screen. Since going to Moscow last summer, I can see the novel’s locations in my mind’s eye. I sat on the bench at Patriarch Ponds, stood in the Courtyard looking up at Flat 50 Bolshyada Sadovya, strolled on Arbat and peered in the gates of Spaso House. Is it that it isn’t easily condensed into a simple good versus evil story? Can we not take Bulgakov’s novel and portray it as it is; a fantastical satire of 30s Moscow where the devil comes to visit and the story of one mans mental trauma and another’s unpublished novel shows us The Resurrection at the same time. Seems fairly straightforward no?
Theatre Collection’s version was a worthy interpretation. Their lack of high tech props, space and imagery was compensated by the visual energy of the performers. The chemistry between Alys Daroy’s Margarita and Arifi’s master was believable and convincing. Woland and his retinue portrayed their eccentricities well with appropriate madness and gravitas, fear and comedy in equal proportion, which is the way it should be. The devil can never be portrayed solely as a figure of fun. Danny Steele deserves a special mention for his ‘fagott’, as does Andrew Baker for conveying a cat in human satanical form. His behemoth is occasionally disturbingly physically real.
We easily transport back and forth from 1930s Moscow to Pontius Pilate and Jesus and none of the key themes are lost in any confusion through the time travel. The last scene of redemption and deliverance lost a little edge and could have been snappier.
But credit to them. Theatre like this, needs to be supported to survive. There is no substitute for being that close to a group of actors doing their best to convey a live interpretation of someone else’s fiction right in front of you. They are telling a story for you, by using only limited disguises and tools. The end result is the product of pure human energy and expression. It exists to challenge and test the mind. It also has the potential to be unique; no two performances will ever be exactly identical. On the other hand, sitting and watching a highly staged, edited and increasingly CGI’d film production can be visually perfect, but seems fake and lacking in the intensity that comes with a live human delivery.. Theatre Collection, unsurprisingly, specialise in Russian works which suit the intimate, high intensity personal environment. I will definitely visit again, so would most of the audience I was with, a random mix of Russians and London Theatre fans.
All that said in praise of theatre, no matter how many times I read the story of Woland, Behemoth, Margarita and the Master, I am still surprised that it remains so under adapted. After all there is nothing more cinematic than Jesus of Nazareth, flying pigs, the elixir of life, dead ghouls, disappearing money, and a taking cat surely.
They were not everyone’s cup of tea though. If you had come along expecting a kids puppet show you would have been slightly peeved, if not grossly offended. This is indeed half the fun of fringe theatre.
Theatre Collection are a group based in a small, shabby but atmospheric, pub theatre above the Lord Stanley Pub on Camden Park Road just north of the increasingly epic Kings Cross regeneration. The Lord Stanley itself is a gastro pub, all gourmet burgers, potato wedges and rocket salad with wooden tables and three kinds of mayonnaise. It is also the sort of place that needs to be candle lit so you don’t notice the stains and vintage dirt.
The Theatre Collection inhabit the room above, accessible only by a single door to a twisting and creaking narrow staircase. The small stage is within touching distance of the two banks of benches laid out for the audience of no more than 40 people. Paint peels off the walls, the windows rattle and the bare concrete slab floor has years of dents and pits. The wiring and lighting could be described at best as charmingly vintage or down right dangerous depending on how you look at these things. However this is definitely not a criticism, in fact a level of vintage, shabby surroundings are essential to fringe theatre and very much part of the energy of the performance. Consider a fringe theatre performance played out in the fluorescent sterile timber expanse of your local Wagamanas for example.
Theatre Collection are a small company, in existence since 2009. They were founded by Kosovar Albanian Shaban Arifi and Russian artistic Director Victor Sobchak. They specialise in Anglo-Russian Theatre, describing it rather expansively as ‘A collection of world drama: from medieval farces and classic to modern international drama and new writing’. Not a whole lot missing from that then really. They have a reputation for intense short runs, with daring concepts and a risk taking edge.
I am not likely to miss someone having a go at an adaptation of the Master and Margarita. In fact I have been waiting for years for Hollywood to make its attempt at adapting Bulgakov’s work of genius for the cinema screen. Since going to Moscow last summer, I can see the novel’s locations in my mind’s eye. I sat on the bench at Patriarch Ponds, stood in the Courtyard looking up at Flat 50 Bolshyada Sadovya, strolled on Arbat and peered in the gates of Spaso House. Is it that it isn’t easily condensed into a simple good versus evil story? Can we not take Bulgakov’s novel and portray it as it is; a fantastical satire of 30s Moscow where the devil comes to visit and the story of one mans mental trauma and another’s unpublished novel shows us The Resurrection at the same time. Seems fairly straightforward no?
Theatre Collection’s version was a worthy interpretation. Their lack of high tech props, space and imagery was compensated by the visual energy of the performers. The chemistry between Alys Daroy’s Margarita and Arifi’s master was believable and convincing. Woland and his retinue portrayed their eccentricities well with appropriate madness and gravitas, fear and comedy in equal proportion, which is the way it should be. The devil can never be portrayed solely as a figure of fun. Danny Steele deserves a special mention for his ‘fagott’, as does Andrew Baker for conveying a cat in human satanical form. His behemoth is occasionally disturbingly physically real.
We easily transport back and forth from 1930s Moscow to Pontius Pilate and Jesus and none of the key themes are lost in any confusion through the time travel. The last scene of redemption and deliverance lost a little edge and could have been snappier.
But credit to them. Theatre like this, needs to be supported to survive. There is no substitute for being that close to a group of actors doing their best to convey a live interpretation of someone else’s fiction right in front of you. They are telling a story for you, by using only limited disguises and tools. The end result is the product of pure human energy and expression. It exists to challenge and test the mind. It also has the potential to be unique; no two performances will ever be exactly identical. On the other hand, sitting and watching a highly staged, edited and increasingly CGI’d film production can be visually perfect, but seems fake and lacking in the intensity that comes with a live human delivery.. Theatre Collection, unsurprisingly, specialise in Russian works which suit the intimate, high intensity personal environment. I will definitely visit again, so would most of the audience I was with, a random mix of Russians and London Theatre fans.
All that said in praise of theatre, no matter how many times I read the story of Woland, Behemoth, Margarita and the Master, I am still surprised that it remains so under adapted. After all there is nothing more cinematic than Jesus of Nazareth, flying pigs, the elixir of life, dead ghouls, disappearing money, and a taking cat surely.
