Me: I'm going to a casting workshop.
Mum: What for?
Me: Well, they tell you what kind of actor you are.
Mum: I can tell you what kind of actor you are.
Me: Ok, go on then.
Mum: Unemployed.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Coffee Vs Milk. Part One- A Dangerous Balancing Act
The scene:
An upmarket coffee shop in london. Standing behind the coffee machine a barista awaits his orders. A middle aged, well-dressed woman enters the shop and makes a bee line for the barista. Confidently, she barks her orders.
Customer: Cappuccino, small, one shot, extra dry, no chocolate.
Barista: Certainly.
Customer: Extra-dry. You heard that?
Barista: Yes Madam, extra dry.
Customer: Is Roger here? He knows how I like it.
Barista: He's just in the office. Don't worry I'll make it. I'm trained by Roger!
The Barista makes the coffee and the woman takes a sip, pulls a face and returns it.
Customer: I said extra dry. This has milk in.
Barista: Yes it has a little milk in because its...
Customer: Extra dry. That's just froth and espresso. Espresso and froth. What's wrong with you?
Barista: Just espresso and froth?
Customer: Yes.
Barista: You want a macchiato?
Customer: NO! I want a small, one shot, extra dry, no chocolate cappuccino. Where's Roger? ROGER?
Roger, the Manager, enters.
Roger: Hello Maeve darling. What can I get you? The usual?
Customer: Yes thank you dear. Your barista doesn't know what he's doing. I'll be sitting down outside.
She exits.
Roger: What a pain in the arse that one is.
Barista: What does she want?
Roger: A macchiato.
Barista: But she...
Roger: I know, I know. I can assure you, she wants a macchiato. She just wants to call it a cappuccino.
The above overheard dialogue illustrates how the great coffee movement of 21st Century London has rendered a simple coffee order impossible. Gone are the days of "White, one sugar darlin'", to be replaced by long convoluted sentences made up of a combination of English and Italian words strung together in no particular verifiable order. In this series (there'll definitely be at least two) of essays (blogs) I will be examining some of the top issues that arise when the populous of London attempt to purchase a cup of Joe.
The first problem has arisen from the coffee companies trying to appeal to the modern greed for more, MoRe, MORE! There are so many different coffee shops stretching from major corporations (Starbucks, Nero, Costa) down to smaller, more specialist, independent cafes (Ginger and White, Flat White, Milk Bar) that the coffee marketplace is now cluttered with an A-Z of impressively titled coffee/milk/syrupy combinations. We have Caramel Macchiatos, Cafe Lattes, Cafe Mochas, Flat Whites, Cappuccinos, Cafe Melanges, Frappuccinos, Cafe au Lait, tall blacks, short blacks, Red Eyes, Torpedoes and so many more. Starbucks, for example, has particularly confused the ordering system by using existing words for made up coffees. For example: a macchiato is a famous Italian drink made by combining one or more shots of espresso with a spoonful or so of foam. Starbucks, however, has created the Caramel Macchiato, which can be more aptly described as a latte flavoured with caramel syrup. See where I'm going here?
So, while this is exciting and all, it can also become very complicated for baristas trying to meet people's expectations of the coffee they can get elsewhere while working in a coffee shop that only specialises in a handful of these options. The below are what I would call the actual, basic, widely available combinations of coffee and milk that are all (with the exception of the Flat White which is from New Zealand & Australia) based on the original Italian recipes.
1. Latte
1-2 shots of espresso combined with steamed milk with a small layer of froth on the top.
2. Cappuccino
1-2 shots of espresso combined with 2/3 steamed milk and 1/3 froth.
3. Flat White
2 shots of espresso combined with steamed milk with less froth than a latte.
4. Americano with or without milk
1-2 shots of espresso combined with hot water. Hot or cold milk added as required.
5. Mocha
1-2 shots of espresso combined with hot chocolate. Served latte style.
6. Espresso
1-2 shots of espresso, served straight or with milk if required.
7. Macchiato
1-2 shots of espresso, served with frothed milk.
When I was working in a coffee shop I was overwhelmed by the number of customers who tried to specialise their orders. A little fiddling around is okay -I can deal with extra-hot or a little less milk perhaps- but the reason these bean and milk combos are in existence is because they have been tried and tested and they WORK!
So please don't order a:
-Latte with less foam and an extra shot because this is a FLAT WHITE.
-Wet Cappuccino because this is a LATTE.
-Dry Latte because this is a CAPPUCCINO.
-Espresso with a large side of extra milk because you clearly want a FLAT WHITE and are just being GREEDY
OR A
-Dry cappuccino because this is A CUP OF COFFEE-SCENTED FOAM.
Just my suggestion.
An upmarket coffee shop in london. Standing behind the coffee machine a barista awaits his orders. A middle aged, well-dressed woman enters the shop and makes a bee line for the barista. Confidently, she barks her orders.
Customer: Cappuccino, small, one shot, extra dry, no chocolate.
Barista: Certainly.
Customer: Extra-dry. You heard that?
Barista: Yes Madam, extra dry.
Customer: Is Roger here? He knows how I like it.
Barista: He's just in the office. Don't worry I'll make it. I'm trained by Roger!
The Barista makes the coffee and the woman takes a sip, pulls a face and returns it.
Customer: I said extra dry. This has milk in.
Barista: Yes it has a little milk in because its...
Customer: Extra dry. That's just froth and espresso. Espresso and froth. What's wrong with you?
Barista: Just espresso and froth?
Customer: Yes.
Barista: You want a macchiato?
Customer: NO! I want a small, one shot, extra dry, no chocolate cappuccino. Where's Roger? ROGER?
Roger, the Manager, enters.
Roger: Hello Maeve darling. What can I get you? The usual?
Customer: Yes thank you dear. Your barista doesn't know what he's doing. I'll be sitting down outside.
She exits.
Roger: What a pain in the arse that one is.
Barista: What does she want?
Roger: A macchiato.
Barista: But she...
Roger: I know, I know. I can assure you, she wants a macchiato. She just wants to call it a cappuccino.
The above overheard dialogue illustrates how the great coffee movement of 21st Century London has rendered a simple coffee order impossible. Gone are the days of "White, one sugar darlin'", to be replaced by long convoluted sentences made up of a combination of English and Italian words strung together in no particular verifiable order. In this series (there'll definitely be at least two) of essays (blogs) I will be examining some of the top issues that arise when the populous of London attempt to purchase a cup of Joe.
The first problem has arisen from the coffee companies trying to appeal to the modern greed for more, MoRe, MORE! There are so many different coffee shops stretching from major corporations (Starbucks, Nero, Costa) down to smaller, more specialist, independent cafes (Ginger and White, Flat White, Milk Bar) that the coffee marketplace is now cluttered with an A-Z of impressively titled coffee/milk/syrupy combinations. We have Caramel Macchiatos, Cafe Lattes, Cafe Mochas, Flat Whites, Cappuccinos, Cafe Melanges, Frappuccinos, Cafe au Lait, tall blacks, short blacks, Red Eyes, Torpedoes and so many more. Starbucks, for example, has particularly confused the ordering system by using existing words for made up coffees. For example: a macchiato is a famous Italian drink made by combining one or more shots of espresso with a spoonful or so of foam. Starbucks, however, has created the Caramel Macchiato, which can be more aptly described as a latte flavoured with caramel syrup. See where I'm going here?
So, while this is exciting and all, it can also become very complicated for baristas trying to meet people's expectations of the coffee they can get elsewhere while working in a coffee shop that only specialises in a handful of these options. The below are what I would call the actual, basic, widely available combinations of coffee and milk that are all (with the exception of the Flat White which is from New Zealand & Australia) based on the original Italian recipes.
1. Latte
1-2 shots of espresso combined with steamed milk with a small layer of froth on the top.
2. Cappuccino
1-2 shots of espresso combined with 2/3 steamed milk and 1/3 froth.
3. Flat White
2 shots of espresso combined with steamed milk with less froth than a latte.
4. Americano with or without milk
1-2 shots of espresso combined with hot water. Hot or cold milk added as required.
5. Mocha
1-2 shots of espresso combined with hot chocolate. Served latte style.
6. Espresso
1-2 shots of espresso, served straight or with milk if required.
7. Macchiato
1-2 shots of espresso, served with frothed milk.
When I was working in a coffee shop I was overwhelmed by the number of customers who tried to specialise their orders. A little fiddling around is okay -I can deal with extra-hot or a little less milk perhaps- but the reason these bean and milk combos are in existence is because they have been tried and tested and they WORK!
So please don't order a:
-Latte with less foam and an extra shot because this is a FLAT WHITE.
-Wet Cappuccino because this is a LATTE.
-Dry Latte because this is a CAPPUCCINO.
-Espresso with a large side of extra milk because you clearly want a FLAT WHITE and are just being GREEDY
OR A
-Dry cappuccino because this is A CUP OF COFFEE-SCENTED FOAM.
Just my suggestion.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The Show That Really Is A Party
Having just got back from Edinburgh, one would have thought I'd have had access to pretty much all of the experimental, avant-garde, promenade, cabaret-esque theatre I could ever desire. However, Edinburgh was almost entirely a washout this year in terms of me gracing the audience section of any play other than my own. Plus, any spare time was invariably spent desperately darting from one comedy gig to another, trying to stock up on knowledge of comedians for my role as co-director of Chatback Comedy Club. Even without these events hindering my theatregoing abilities, Edinburgh is not only becoming an expensive way to see theatre but also a place where so many companies are shoving their wares into your hands by way of flyers, it's often difficult to know what to go and see.
Last week, back in London, I was sent a complimentary ticket to a show called Office Party at The Pleasance, Islington. The email informed me that the show had been commissioned by the Barbican a couple of years back and had also played the Edinburgh Festival to great acclaim. Now it was back, boasting a cast chock full of some of my favourite acts currently gracing the cabaret scene. Was I going? A free ticket to something describing itself as 'an interactive theatrical extravaganza which features a veritable smorgasboard of stand-up comedians, and stupendously brilliant avant-garde performers'? Without a doubt.
Despite my initial fervour I got a little bit panicky when I first arrived at The Pleasance. Arriving a couple of minutes before the show was about to start -thanks to the area's apparent adoration for complicated one-way systems and sat-navs that announce a turning two seconds after you pass it- I dashed confidently into the theatre's main entrance only to be turned away and sent down the street to a double door marked with the ineffably dull name of 'Product Solutions'. Entering I was greeted like an old friend by a bunch of festively dressed beings who scrawled my name on a badge bearing the initials CSR and told, "We're going to wear these tonight. You'll be mixing with the other departments so not everyone is going to know everyone else". I was then told to skip off and join the rest of my colleagues from the Corporate and Social Responsibility Department "here at Production Solutions". Shell-shocked I wondered off, peering desperately at other people's labels, before being saved and/or assaulted by Cath from Domestic Services who wanted a chat about Primark and the fact that the CEO wasn't shelling out for a free bar "after the events of last year".
Maybe I'm a wuss but, despite being a generally sociable person, I quickly realised that a) this night was going to be one heck of a more participatory experience than I was expecting and b) very few people/if any had come alone as I had, and I was feeling a little nervous about approaching people. It didn't help that there was no clear delineation at this point between actors and audience so I had no idea who it was safe to strike up a conversation with. I dealt with this by approaching people who looked even more terrified than I felt.
I don't want to say too much about the rest of the show partly because I don't want to ruin the many secret surprises it's hoarding and partly because I feel it's truly a show that adapts to each individual audience anyway. My experience of it may not be your experience.
The phrases 'interactive' and 'theatrical experience' are too often bandied about to describe shows where something...well...happens or where there's a bout of audience participation perhaps. But this is really the full shebang. I'm not a huge fan of participating at the theatre. I often feel that I've paid to see professionals do their thing rather than humouring a bunch of attention-seeking, talentless fellow audience members. Office Party, however, treads the line between the two beautifully. There's a clear structure to the piece, actors posing as 'Department Heads' comically use a blend of script and improvisation to bond with their 'Departments' and, later, each gets their own turn to perform during the party whether they sing, pole dance, do stand-up or strip. There's a bar, a cheesy disco, party games with Departments competing against each other, prizes, guest cabaret performances, spoof motivational speakers and so very much more.
This feels more like an event than a simple show, it's refreshing to find something so entertaining and all-consuming that you really do enter a fantasy world for a while and any panic I felt at arriving alone melted away as boundaries were broken down and everyone started bonding over the peculiar state of affairs we'd all found ourselves a part of. No-one has to join in with anything they don't fancy and the place is so packed it's not a problem if you don't wish to do anything other than just observe with a pint in hand.
Yes, of course, there are awkward moments. Most of these occur early on in the night as actors desperately try to coax made-up conversations out of you before you're quite ready to leave your self-conciousness outside and enter the make-believe world of Product Solutions. But, since this is an unavoidable part of this sort of interactive event, they couldn't have chosen a better topic. Who isn't awkward at the office party, cornered by figures of authority and total strangers into making uncomfortable conversation about things you barely understand!? I bet this is the best -and most surreal one- you'll ever attend.
http://www.officepartyshow.com/
Last week, back in London, I was sent a complimentary ticket to a show called Office Party at The Pleasance, Islington. The email informed me that the show had been commissioned by the Barbican a couple of years back and had also played the Edinburgh Festival to great acclaim. Now it was back, boasting a cast chock full of some of my favourite acts currently gracing the cabaret scene. Was I going? A free ticket to something describing itself as 'an interactive theatrical extravaganza which features a veritable smorgasboard of stand-up comedians, and stupendously brilliant avant-garde performers'? Without a doubt.
Despite my initial fervour I got a little bit panicky when I first arrived at The Pleasance. Arriving a couple of minutes before the show was about to start -thanks to the area's apparent adoration for complicated one-way systems and sat-navs that announce a turning two seconds after you pass it- I dashed confidently into the theatre's main entrance only to be turned away and sent down the street to a double door marked with the ineffably dull name of 'Product Solutions'. Entering I was greeted like an old friend by a bunch of festively dressed beings who scrawled my name on a badge bearing the initials CSR and told, "We're going to wear these tonight. You'll be mixing with the other departments so not everyone is going to know everyone else". I was then told to skip off and join the rest of my colleagues from the Corporate and Social Responsibility Department "here at Production Solutions". Shell-shocked I wondered off, peering desperately at other people's labels, before being saved and/or assaulted by Cath from Domestic Services who wanted a chat about Primark and the fact that the CEO wasn't shelling out for a free bar "after the events of last year".
Maybe I'm a wuss but, despite being a generally sociable person, I quickly realised that a) this night was going to be one heck of a more participatory experience than I was expecting and b) very few people/if any had come alone as I had, and I was feeling a little nervous about approaching people. It didn't help that there was no clear delineation at this point between actors and audience so I had no idea who it was safe to strike up a conversation with. I dealt with this by approaching people who looked even more terrified than I felt.
I don't want to say too much about the rest of the show partly because I don't want to ruin the many secret surprises it's hoarding and partly because I feel it's truly a show that adapts to each individual audience anyway. My experience of it may not be your experience.
The phrases 'interactive' and 'theatrical experience' are too often bandied about to describe shows where something...well...happens or where there's a bout of audience participation perhaps. But this is really the full shebang. I'm not a huge fan of participating at the theatre. I often feel that I've paid to see professionals do their thing rather than humouring a bunch of attention-seeking, talentless fellow audience members. Office Party, however, treads the line between the two beautifully. There's a clear structure to the piece, actors posing as 'Department Heads' comically use a blend of script and improvisation to bond with their 'Departments' and, later, each gets their own turn to perform during the party whether they sing, pole dance, do stand-up or strip. There's a bar, a cheesy disco, party games with Departments competing against each other, prizes, guest cabaret performances, spoof motivational speakers and so very much more.
This feels more like an event than a simple show, it's refreshing to find something so entertaining and all-consuming that you really do enter a fantasy world for a while and any panic I felt at arriving alone melted away as boundaries were broken down and everyone started bonding over the peculiar state of affairs we'd all found ourselves a part of. No-one has to join in with anything they don't fancy and the place is so packed it's not a problem if you don't wish to do anything other than just observe with a pint in hand.
Yes, of course, there are awkward moments. Most of these occur early on in the night as actors desperately try to coax made-up conversations out of you before you're quite ready to leave your self-conciousness outside and enter the make-believe world of Product Solutions. But, since this is an unavoidable part of this sort of interactive event, they couldn't have chosen a better topic. Who isn't awkward at the office party, cornered by figures of authority and total strangers into making uncomfortable conversation about things you barely understand!? I bet this is the best -and most surreal one- you'll ever attend.
http://www.officepartyshow.com/
The Age of the Pre-Packaged Musical
In the 1940's a new phrase was coined to explain what was happening in movie land. Films were being made with a soundtrack featuring mainly pre-existing/well known songs of the day looped around a dramatic and/or romantic narrative. The phrase coined to explain this 'phenomenon' was 'Jukebox Musical'. Famous examples include Meet me in St Louis, A Hard Day's Night, Singin' in the Rain and The Blues Brothers. As this continued into the modern day it started to trickle into our theatres too, spawning a trend which is currently blazing a trail through London's West End and igniting a civil war between those who adore it and those who abhore it.
It's easy, particularly for theatre makers working in the subsidiary sector, to fall into the latter category. While jukebox musicals aren't a risk-free venture -they are, after all, still theatre- they certainly have easier access to a ready-made audience than, for example, new writing or revived classics do. Not only that, but they also appeal to that potential audience much-desired by theatre makers the world over: the current non-theatregoers. Attracting new audiences is a constant battle in theatre but its well documented that, by simply using a famous name in your show title, you can attract hordes of people who wouldn't even vaguely consider spending a night at the theatre in any other circumstance. These shows are also seen as lazy creations since they depend so heavily on simply stringing a storyline or a band's biography around someone else's hard work. You can see why its a particularly bitter pill for theatre companies attempting to create something new and exciting, and living hand to mouth in the process, to have to swallow.
My opinion on the subject? Well, until recently, my opinion was as follows:
As much as I strongly encourage attracting new audiences to theatre, I can't really see how doing so by marketing it towards people who only wish to see Disney movies live or hear their favourite band performed tribute style (often regardless of how well/badly they are performed) is, in the long term, a worthwhile exercise in terms of cultivating new theatre punters for the future. And it's certainly looking like that's all people want. I mean today alone there were performances in London's West End of: Million Dollar Quartet, Jersey Boys, Thriller, We Will Rock You, Mamma Mia!, Rock of Ages, Priscilla- Queen of the Desert.......the list goes on. I know this doesn't matter in commercial theatre. I know that, as long as it goes on being so financially successful, the jukebox musical is here to stay. I also know, however, that the British theatre scene places the utmost importance on fighting to be seen as the cultural hotspot in comparison with rival scenes in countries around the world. Ultimately I can't imagine we're ready to forgo Dame Judi Dench at the RSC in favour of making sure we have the top production of Jersey Boys. It's whether or not these will continue to be able to exist side by side that I question.
Okay so I've thrown my hat into the ring and said my piece as a concerned member of the industry but, as a theatregoer, I've seen and enjoyed a number of these shows. I've also seen and hated a number of them. In much the same way I sometimes like or dislike any other piece of entertainment in fact. The thing is- when I enjoy a jukebox musical its normally because there is something about it that I feel elevates it above the simple, base concept of ripping off an existing work. Something novel that shows how revisiting a old concept can better it.
But I think I've changed my mind. I've finally sat through one of these shows absolutely riddled with all the things I'd normally complain about...
e.g. A heavy dependence on in-jokes and famous songs
A very silly storyline riddled with holes and ridiculous characters
A couple of below-par performances
A lead role played by TV names not famed for their stage skills
...and yet I walked out with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. Why? Because I suddenly realised how FUN these shows can be. In a way that new material can't, these riffings around a common theme can draw people together through nostalgia, memories of happier times and long-forgotten in-jokes. I went to see Rock of Ages for no reason other than that I had free tickets. There was so much wrong with the show that I was ready to get on my high theatrical horse and have a moan. Then I realised how much fun the cast, the audience... everyone was having. People were laughing, singing along, waving lights in the air and cheering almost panto-style as the silly storyline developed.
A week later the show was panned by the critics for all the things I've already mentioned. But I was there. I saw a massive theatre be pumped full of excitement, joy, fun and Londoners breaking the usual boundaries to chat and smile to each other. There was so much wrong with the show and yet, ultimately, it was a triumph.
Maybe we theatre people have more to learn than we're ready to admit.
It's easy, particularly for theatre makers working in the subsidiary sector, to fall into the latter category. While jukebox musicals aren't a risk-free venture -they are, after all, still theatre- they certainly have easier access to a ready-made audience than, for example, new writing or revived classics do. Not only that, but they also appeal to that potential audience much-desired by theatre makers the world over: the current non-theatregoers. Attracting new audiences is a constant battle in theatre but its well documented that, by simply using a famous name in your show title, you can attract hordes of people who wouldn't even vaguely consider spending a night at the theatre in any other circumstance. These shows are also seen as lazy creations since they depend so heavily on simply stringing a storyline or a band's biography around someone else's hard work. You can see why its a particularly bitter pill for theatre companies attempting to create something new and exciting, and living hand to mouth in the process, to have to swallow.
My opinion on the subject? Well, until recently, my opinion was as follows:
As much as I strongly encourage attracting new audiences to theatre, I can't really see how doing so by marketing it towards people who only wish to see Disney movies live or hear their favourite band performed tribute style (often regardless of how well/badly they are performed) is, in the long term, a worthwhile exercise in terms of cultivating new theatre punters for the future. And it's certainly looking like that's all people want. I mean today alone there were performances in London's West End of: Million Dollar Quartet, Jersey Boys, Thriller, We Will Rock You, Mamma Mia!, Rock of Ages, Priscilla- Queen of the Desert.......the list goes on. I know this doesn't matter in commercial theatre. I know that, as long as it goes on being so financially successful, the jukebox musical is here to stay. I also know, however, that the British theatre scene places the utmost importance on fighting to be seen as the cultural hotspot in comparison with rival scenes in countries around the world. Ultimately I can't imagine we're ready to forgo Dame Judi Dench at the RSC in favour of making sure we have the top production of Jersey Boys. It's whether or not these will continue to be able to exist side by side that I question.
Okay so I've thrown my hat into the ring and said my piece as a concerned member of the industry but, as a theatregoer, I've seen and enjoyed a number of these shows. I've also seen and hated a number of them. In much the same way I sometimes like or dislike any other piece of entertainment in fact. The thing is- when I enjoy a jukebox musical its normally because there is something about it that I feel elevates it above the simple, base concept of ripping off an existing work. Something novel that shows how revisiting a old concept can better it.
But I think I've changed my mind. I've finally sat through one of these shows absolutely riddled with all the things I'd normally complain about...
e.g. A heavy dependence on in-jokes and famous songs
A very silly storyline riddled with holes and ridiculous characters
A couple of below-par performances
A lead role played by TV names not famed for their stage skills
...and yet I walked out with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. Why? Because I suddenly realised how FUN these shows can be. In a way that new material can't, these riffings around a common theme can draw people together through nostalgia, memories of happier times and long-forgotten in-jokes. I went to see Rock of Ages for no reason other than that I had free tickets. There was so much wrong with the show that I was ready to get on my high theatrical horse and have a moan. Then I realised how much fun the cast, the audience... everyone was having. People were laughing, singing along, waving lights in the air and cheering almost panto-style as the silly storyline developed.
A week later the show was panned by the critics for all the things I've already mentioned. But I was there. I saw a massive theatre be pumped full of excitement, joy, fun and Londoners breaking the usual boundaries to chat and smile to each other. There was so much wrong with the show and yet, ultimately, it was a triumph.
Maybe we theatre people have more to learn than we're ready to admit.
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