Pebbles Postcards

At the heart of Pebbles on the Beach is the power of the letter or postcard sent and received. Part of the story is about the letters we should have written. That we wanted to write. We needed to write. And the letters that we sent and then regretted. Within the play, the letter is a source of inspiration, of pain, of love and of anger.

We have invited people to send us their letters or postcards - real thoughts or imagined - and here are some we've received to date-

Dear Dad,
I'm writing this to you but you'll never get to read it, the postman doesn't deliver to your address. I'm angry dad, I'm angry at you leaving me, at all the things you missed, and I missed, the birthdays we never celebrated and the Christmas presents never bought. I'm angry that I didn't know, that I never said goodbye properly, that no one told me what was happening or what was going to happen - even though I understand that you can't explain those things to a child I'm still angry no one tried. And sometimes, when I'm alone, I'm sad, so sad, sad for the things that are, and the things that might have been and the things that never will be. And I feel hurt, and lost, like there's a huge hole right in the middle of my soul and no matter what I do to fill it, nothing ever will because time doesn't heal, and anyone who says it does, doesn't know. But most of all I miss you dad, I miss everything that was and everything that should have been, that you missed out on and I missed out on. And I miss your cuddles.
I love you dad. xxx

I'm so sorry I had to say goodbye. So sorry that we can never see each other again. I think of you often. But your face is fading from my consciousness. I stumbled across some photos of you this morning and the memories came flooding back. The memories of what it was like to spend time with you. But now they've faded again. I don't know whether it's denial or self-preservation. All I know is that you are truly gone from my life.
Ines

I don't think you are my brother. 60 years of wondering why he hit you and hated you but not me. I got sweets, which rotted my teeth and you got none, which rotted your mind, so you hit me. I suppose that's what war does.

Dear T,
Who would have thought that something I was treating with derision would put us back in contact again? I'm sorry that I lost my phone, and for all the things I wasn't there for in the time it took to get your number again (which still haven't changed- I think you're stuck in time!).
I'm holding back on saying what is on the tip of my tongue so much recently because I've said it too much and too early in the past, and because just a little bit it scares me to think that I could lose you again. Or that you might say it too. And that this time I wouldn't lose your phone number. Or you.
M x

To my cousin David,
I miss you. We have wept everyday for you since the news came. I wish i had known how sad you were, perhaps then I could have done more to help you. My heart aches with the silence of these burdens we carry alone. I know many of these were carried by you.
My mom dreamt you were greeted by your mother above a sea of yellow. I hope you have found each other and that the next world is filled with joy. You are loved, whatever you thought, you are loved.
Louise

I know you never wanted to hear from me again, but please read this, it's important, or I wouldn't pester you with it, You must know that by now.
You have proved your point. I was indeed an 'emotional void'. I have learnt, and I am not empty now. Thank you. I heard last night that you had moved out of town, and realised that I no longer have to save your feelings by avoiding you. Realising today, just one year after we first met, just what I have denied myself since Spring out of deference to your pain, I have had my Road to Damascus moment. It suddenly felt as if I had your permission, by word of mouth, to come out of hiding. I now understand; that thing that makes me waste time thinking about you is guilt. That thing that kept me away from all 'our' friends was fear. Those are not emotions. That thing that feels like a physical switch setting off bombs behind my eyes, that made me throw up when I put the phone down, that is an emotion. That is pure blind rage at the time I have wasted, assuming that poor, fragile little you had to be protected ever having to question yourself by seeing me again. A whole year which, as you yourself put it, I do not really have to spare. That is my first real emotional experience in years and it is your personal gift, and I thank you. It obviously didn't last, as I now really do not care, and I mean do not care, one way or the other, if our paths cross when you come back in the New Year. Never mind, it's a start. Your call.
Be happy.
Andi.

and this one came all the way from Antigua!

Forget the cry of gulls and the deep sea swell, and the profit & loss.
A current under sea picked his bones in whispers.
Phlebas.

Keep sending us your postcards to ensemble@weaverhughesensemble.co.uk

WHen. and Pebbles on the Beach

WHen.'s current production is the London premiere of Joanna Pinto's Pebbles on the Beach.

Following its run at this year's Edinburgh Festival Fringe, where critics said-

'a touching picture of missed opportunity' Fringe Review

'strongly naturalistic performances all round' The Stage

'an exploration of the tidal rhythms of life; of love and longing, of regret and forgiveness, of the beautiful amidst the mundane' Edinburgh Fest Magazine

the production has now transferred to London-

'the difficult, disorienting terrain of emotional trauma is lent enticing dramatic shape in this snapshot...Gabriela Restelli's spare, evocative design...director Timothy Hughes ekes out the caustic urban humour and emotional heart with insightful ease' Time Out

'Pebbles on the Beach is an emotional yet beautiful portrayal of the lasting effects of regret and missed opportunity' The London Word

Pebbles on the Beach runs until 22 November at the Old Red Lion Theatre, Angel - www.oldredliontheatre.co.uk - we hope to see you there.

What the critics have said so far...

Here's a selection of some of the reviews for our three shows up at the Festival Fringe this year:

The Six Wives of Timothy Leary

****
'the real treat of the piece is the quality of the performances by the young actresses.' The Herald

****
'One of the three productions being staged by Weaver Hughes Ensemble, The Six Wives of Timothy Leary is just as the title suggests, played out with an admirable economy of form...audacious....engaging...I can highly recommend it.' Edinburgh Festivals Magazine

The Army of Reason

***1/2
'It makes for powerful theatre, particularly as it is well performed.' The British Theatre Guide

Pebbles on the Beach

'Excellent and simple design by Gabriela Restelli...Strong naturalistic performances all round' The Stage

Tom Corner from St Andrews

Hi,

My name is Tom Corner from St Andrews.

I have just got back from a day at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival and one of the many shows I saw was your one on Six Wives of Timothy Leary and must say it was my highlight of the day.

I was excellent, all the story line and the 6 female actresses were very very good, I was sitting at the front and could clearly see the emotions that the actresses were using were first class as if it was real life.

Even though all other shows I saw was good that was just a bit more special and well worth £9.

Keep up the good work and will be definately looking out for your future productions at next years edinburgh fringe festival.

Please if you can pass on my good words to the cast and crew.

yours Tom Corner.

What the heck!!!

Paul Arendt wrote in the Comment section for The Guardian an opinion on Monologues. Below is his original text and then my reponse. Enjoy!!

Edinburgh festival: Spare us the monologue

Less tricky to write than a full-scale drama and cheaper to produce, the one-person how is everywhere this year. But doesn't your heart sink, just a little?

More than half the shows I saw this week were one-person plays or monologue collections. Big deal, you might say: at a festival where larger companies can lose 10 grand or more a month, a solo show makes more financial sense. Transport, food, accommodation, even wages: everything is multiplied by your cast list. Little wonder that so many writers, actors and directors practice the monologue method, with its controllable costs and supreme adaptability to Edinburgh's unforgiving venues. After all, why should stand-ups be the only ones to have it easy?

And yet I can't help feeling that it's a lack of imagination, as much as cash constraints, that provokes this annual glut of theatrical onanism. You could not, for instance, blame budget for the staging of The Six Wives Of Timothy Leary at the Pleasance, where a sextet of clearly talented actors barely address or acknowledge each other for 85 numbing minutes.

With one or two exceptions - Spalding Gray springs to mind - the theatrical monologue show is intrinsically dull. At best, it spoonfeeds an audience that wants to be flattered with subtleties; at worst it simply harangues them. Who hasn't walked into a venue to feel their heart sink, just a little, at the sight of yet another single chair, yet another single spotlight, yet another cast of one? Solo plays can showcase fine, delicate acting, as Bully does at the Gilded Balloon, and inventive staging (try Borderline at the Underbelly for that), but these shows succeed in spite of the form not because of it, and they're not half as much fun to watch as an actual, honest-to-goodness play.

For writers, especially developing or first-time playwrights, the one-person show is understandably less threatening than a full-scale drama. There's little need for the tricky cut-and-thrust of conversation and plenty of space to explain your hero's hopes and fears. But are you sure you wouldn't rather write a novel?

The conventions of traditional stage drama are restrictive, yes, but then they're supposed to be. What's the first thing that every student director learns? Show, don't tell. All drama is about conflict, about argument, whether it's Richard III seducing Anne or Josh crossing swords with Toby. Good stage writing offers multiple points of view engaged in an almighty barney for supremacy, and an argument requires more than one person.

So here's a request for any playwrights who are hard at work plotting next year's smash hit show. Please, ban yourself from the monologue. Go on, give it a go. Scrape together enough cash to hire two actors. Even if the second performer does nothing but listen to the first one, you've created a dynamic that is more interesting than one actor spilling their guts to the audience. Resurrect the fourth wall and build it high - lock your characters inside until they're forced to talk to each other. Spare us the confessionals,
no matter how searching. Spare us the lectures, no matter how eloquent. Just write a goddamned play.

Timothy Hughes wrote

Paul,

I couldn’t disagree with you more. But then I would as I produced THE SIX WIVES OF TIMOTHY LEARY and am one of the Artistic Directors of Weaver Hughes Ensemble, who along with this production, have two others up at the festival this year. For your information both of those other plays are not monologues.

But let us address your comment on monologues or “monologue collections”. You have a very nifty get out clause to your damning statement that monologues lack imagination by the phrase “with one or two exception” which I am assuming excludes such writers as Alan Bennett, Samuel Beckett, Shakespeare, etc. So, you are able to avoid these great theatrical works and not lump them with the rest of playwrights attempts at being “intrinsically dull”.

Of course you include the SIX WIVES in that group. Lets forget for the moment the many, many, many great reviews that have been given to this production (4 stars in The Herald; 4 Stars in Edinburgh Festivals; “Be Impressed” The Independent; “A remarkable Achievement” The Stage; 4 Stars and Critics’ Choice in Time Out, etc.) as with all theatre there will be critics who don’t like a production, the writing, the performances as sometimes its about taste, world view, what is means to them – the list goes on. But let us rather examine this statement of a monologue being dull. Your statement is just immature and quite reckless and demonstrates a lack of understanding of theatre, though I see your name mentioned as producer of the Guardian Musical event so clearly you work within the business. A successful monologue is incredibly hard to achieve as it’s a direct relationship to the audience. The solo actor has to be both their own character and the one they are relating to. It is demanding on an audience. Also, for a playwright, it’s about developing their craft. Is Sarah Kane’s Crave this “dull collection” or an artist desiring
to establish and create new a form and relationship with the audience.

In the end Paul, I am just bored of your statement, and disappointed. It lacks imagination in its writing. You seem not to understand that the all important relationship which is necessary for theatre is the one between the stage and audience, whether the stage is filled with a cast of hundred’s, a single chair or nothing but a woman buried in sand. That is the real tension. So to demand of playwright’s just full-length plays is to ignore the power of the craft, its diversity and beauty. It shows ignorance.

I am not going to even address the issue of finances, but for the record the cast have been paid and provided with travel and accommodation.

Isaac Harper writes his Edinburgh Diary

Day 4 Sunday the 3rd of August

Up early again, we have the independent on Sunday coming to review the show today so papering and flyering on the royal mile is a must again. Before the show I try and work on my physicality as a teenager as it seemed to disappear yesterday. We have 28 in the audience! our highest number so far. Just before we go on we all remind it each other to hit the lines, lift the energy up. It works! From start to finish we are nailing it. Everyone is buzzing afterwards. We here commenting as they leave that they found the show riveting. Maybe this is a result from the work on the royal mile. There is still room for improvement but hopefully this is it. We've got the ball rolling now. Need to buy new trainers, feet cant take much more.

Day 5 Monday the 4th of August

Another decent crowd maybe 15 but we are not as good as yesterday, time is a bit slow as is the energy. David has them in fits of laughter by the end of the show though, two days in a row now, he's getting into it. Great applause during our ovation, even a loud whoop whoop. Of to the royal mile again. Maybe the novelty has worn out but we don't seem to be giving it as much effort as on the previous occasion. Everyone's voices are scratching but we still get a lot of attention and people are approaching us wanting to know more about the play. Things are looking up. Walking with a bizarre limp now.

Day 6 Tuesday the 5th of August

Big crash back down to reality. Only four people in the audience two are reviewers, one is a friend of Mikes. Whilst waiting in the wings we even heard one man telling Steph that we should not bother as he would prefer not to sit and watch by himself, luckily the other 3 arrived. But we were not good. Hard to be when there are only 4 people watching but we should be better than this by now. Energy down, volume down, rhythm down AGAIN!!! It appears the we are not doing enough promotional work. Nothing is clearly organised enough yet. Maybe this is the wake up call we need on that front. Bought myself some nice new trainers. Feet feel orgasmic.

Day 7 Wednesday the 6th of August

Raining. Heavily. All day. Cant wear my new trainers as they are to thin and will just get soaked. Gutted! We got a bad review from the stage last night. Laid into the script and the acting. Everyone is pumped for today.Audience numbers are low again. Casting director amongst them as well as reviewers from the British Theatre Guide and 3Weeks.Out early again to try and get people in but due to rain no one is out on the streets. Emmy has organised Ed fest TV to come and record us before the show, Greg and Mike do monologues for the camera and James has a radio interview with radio Leith. We nail the performance our best yet. Everyone raises their game. Steph says without doubt that was our best. Energy up, volume up everything. We must maintain this now for tomorrow as we have the scotsman coming in as well as an agent from Pat Lovett. Due to the rain we decide against going to the royal mile. Instead as a group we go for lunch and draw out a schedule of serious theatre during the day that we can flyer outside. We split them into four small groups so that every day each of us will know where we have to be and which shows to go to and in which order. Hopefully this will work. Cold wet and important people coming tomorrow. Feet are the least of my concerns.

Isaac Harper writes his Edinburgh Diary

Edinburgh Diary.

Operation: Army of Reason.

Day 1. 31st of July.
First preview no one in the audience. The show goes on, just as well as we still have issues to iron out in the new space. Major problems are the walky talkies picking up other peoples transmitions. Also head nearly gets blown of by the gun firing a blank less than a foot from my ear. After the show we decide that we need to really start getting our pr campaign going to avoid such a poor turnout again. Feet are already swollen.

Day 2 1st of August.
Amy David and James meet at ten to give an internet radio interview (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyJLnW-jt00). 10 30 we al convene to start papering the public. Its still only friday so the pickings are slim. 12 45 we go on. We have an audience, marvellous! Probably 20 people to begin with,15 by the end. Felt the energy was a bit low in my scene hopefully will improve. Still issues with the walky talkies.

We have a judge coming from amnesty international coming tomorrow so decide that papering tomorrow morning is a good idea.

Feet are very sore!

Day 3 2nd of August.

Four of us get rid of all but 5 of our free tickets. We feel very positive about today's performance. What happened after that, who knows. Possibly only 9 in the audience 4 of which are the wives of Timothy Leary. We are all over the place. The show runs over by 10 minutes. Still no solution to the walkie talkies. Emmy tried pretending she had an earpiece today. It didn't work. Everyone panics. We decide we have to begin our PR offensive straight away and with power. Operation Army of Reason is go! Armed with megaphone, flag, balaclavas, printed t-shirts, whistles, face paint and a priest we set of towards the royal mile, making as much noise as possible. We are scaring the crap out of everyone, its working ITS WORKING! However as we turn into the royal mile we are told that we cant use megaphone, whistles or set up a stand. We ignore the latter. After marching through the crowds we set up a stand and start flyering. Not enough attention. The I decide to set the priest down on his knees, mouth gagged and hands bound with an AOR operative either side, another waving a flag whilst the other two run around shouting and flyering. In an instance cameras are out, photos are being taken, crowds are gathering, interest is growing, I'm sweating. Occasionally the priest wriggles fee and we chase him through the crowds catching him and bringing him back to our spot. An hour and a half later, drained and moist our work is done. Hopefully we have started some momentum. Decide to continue our offensive. Tonight we shall meet and start spray painting our AOR stencils up and down the city.

Feet have blisters, they hurt a lot. I now walk funny.