street theatre – devizine.com

If it’s good enough for Knight Rider it’s good enough for me. I see the Hoff ditched his Knight Industries Three Thousand on the Green for a stroll around Devizes on Sunday. He probably found a crusade to champion the cause of the innocent in a world of criminals who operate above the law, whereas I ended up at the British for a scrumpy or three….

Unlike some guys who act like Spongebob Squarepants on his tenth bag of Haribo at Chessington World of Adventures, I can only get yay excited about a car show. But Devizes Lions do it with cherries on… and debatably false advertising. There were no lions on the Green, but it was Lions on the Green this Sunday past, an annual free fete/car show crossover which never fails to appeal universally; kids nag mums for Rowdey Cow ice cream while dads furiously argue for three hours with a total stranger in sandals that the Mk2 2.8 Injection Granada handles better than the Mk1 with a 3.0 V6 engine.

I browse unacquainted with such matters, unfazed by contemporary cock extensions, but in admiration of vintage, retro cars and those with a movie reference attached. Every local from MP Brian Matthews to Pete of Vinyl Realm, and outsiders like Marty McFly have brought their big boy toys along to display, as Fantasy Radio blast Gary Numan. It’s a sunny morning, it’s a lovely occasion, it’s raising funds, and there’s nothing to dislike about it.

Cars ticked off, hot dog and an extended conversation with a detectorist who’d discovered a variety of civil war shots and cannonballs on Roundway, if the Lions on the Green is a great and unbroken walkthrough event it coincided with Crammer Watch Day further along on, at the Little Green.

With long term solutions outstanding for unsafe conditions for wildfowl on the Crammer, there appears to be a far more communal tenet between concerned residents and the council compared to the outcry a few years ago, and this day was intended rather to celebrate the Crammer than address expensive possible solutions. As it stands, the simple fix is to raise public awareness that the only escape route for swans is across the roadside and they should apply caution when driving through….please.

With live painting from the Lawrence Arts Society, stands from the RSPCA, Sustainable Devizes and hosts Friends of The Crammer, conservation was a topic, if overshadowed somewhat by historical tomfoolery, which was something new to the day and personally my highlight.

A random team of amateur thespians, some from the Wharf Writers Group and others along for the giggle and wearing of knitted beards, staged a short promenade satirical play “reenacting” the fable of the moonrakers, aptly at The Crammer. The premise didn’t sound so inspiring to me, and I thought I might have to hold my tongue. The actuality surprised me, it was absolutely brilliant!

Pythonesque humour delivered with skill on a local legend, deliberately naff props such as a paddling pool for the pond, and astutely scripted silliness, it was indigenous and hilariously original.

Authenticity deliberately skewed for amusement; they couldn’t have done this anywhere else but here, the setting of the beloved fable, which is amusing enough without the added gags. Francis Grose was a witty Victorian chubster and nothing more needs to upset the applecart about the origin of the moonrakers, as this wasn’t intending to proclaim historic fact checking rather to amuse, which a country gent in Harris Tweed with a carrot in his mouth pretending to be a donkey will inevitably achieve.

I don’t know where the Hoff got to, but he missed a rarer treat than reuniting with Pamela Anderson for a titillating slow-motion beach jog. Oh, and a whistle stop to Morrisons was a let down culturally compared to what was outside. Along the road I shrug at a classic bus, for its appearance would’ve been more expected trekking the Sahara than parked outside the faithfully traditional British Lion, and there was no explanation for it being there.

Nevertheless I’m one step away from the bar, pondering if there’s one thing expected in Devizes: it’s that The British Lion doesn’t change, because it doesn’t need to. With Devizes Arts Festival is full swing, they’ve arranged a Cwmbran roots trio called Whiskey River to play us some of their sublime classic rock covers, Celtically, with a deep southern Americana twist, as a free fringe event; I cannot argue with this.

Devizes live music aficionados amassed and were thankful, as if they needed an excuse for a pint and fundraising burger from the barbecue. The British Lion is a fond institution, Whiskey River was a great break from our usual circuit, The Lions put on a brilliant and well organised family event, Crammer Watch added to an already great day and those awesome actors with rakes did make us laugh as promised.

It was all too much for me, the White Bear and Southgate continued the music, but I needed a little lie down, while our roving reporter Andy outdone me, partying like Prince in 1999, so I’m also putting up his account of weekend adventures for it’s fuller, far more informative and factually accurate than mine, even if it doesn’t mention Pamela Anderson, because really, she didn’t show. Devizes though, doesn’t need Pam, the fun never stops here, Sunday proved it.

For personal reasons Strong Lady Charmaine Childs was unable to perform her show, Power at the DOCA Street Festival this year, but came to visit Devizes as a one-off separate show in St Andrew’s Church yesterday, and it was as advertised, inspiring……

I can stagger home from a music gig already with an oven-baked opinion, and have a broad idea of what to write about it. It may take serious grammar corrections if I do jot intoxicated notes down, but the basis is there. Whereas in, as what was essentially street theatre, it takes a little time and reflection for what I just witnessed to fully sink in; that’s certainly the case with Power.

Often the fascinating world of street theatre DOCA artistic director Loz Samuels brings to us is abstract, provocative, and most importantly for our market town, completely off the wall. A Strong-Lady conjures ideas of circus, of ta-da-da…and-for-my-next-trick-type acts, of which Charmaine was keen to elucidate the roots of her talent lie there. But this was different, this was theatre, and it had an enthralling narrative.

There was no big top, crazy clown costumes, blinding stage lights, in-your-face effects, and shows of acrobatic talent were minimal, in context. There was only, at first what might appear somewhat disappointing to those in want of dazzling mainstream spectacles, just a fortysomething Australian lady in gym shorts and vest carry two tote bags of house-bricks.

I mean, yeah, props expanded to some books, planks and two wallpaper stands, but that was all you were getting. Yet, through charisma, magnetism and skill she weaved an autobiographical tapestry with audio excerpts taken from other’s personal reflections on the subject of times they felt, or didn’t feel powerful, of which she had collected on her journey, and visually created an act of tragedy, comedy, and thoughtful prose which was itself, powerful.

If there were feminine connotations, they were subtle, the message was neutral on every level, open to all. The idea we all have it within ourselves to overcome mental obstacles and have the power to continue, was prominent, though other angles like attaining power through success was touched upon, as Charmaine opened up her story, and related the recorded ones accordingly. And for the times when she did perform acts of strength and agility, they were backed with reason and relation to the monologue. She is one strong lady indeedy, yet while there was wasn’t the crowd counting along and drum rolls, these shows of strength were incorporated in such a way as not only to impress, but to provoke an emotion; there is no circus act which does this.

It was indeed something entirely different, and unable to pigeonhole, and for that alone, deserves recognition and commendation. The result was apparently, to leave the audience “energised and hopeful,” and it was indeed a positive catalyst, but more so, it was inspirational, conjuring your own stories of times you were powerful. I reminisced upon two occasions immediately afterwards, and while I could reveal them in interminable yarns, I think you’d rather me get directly to the point. You don’t want me to get all Uncle Albert on you, not on a Friday at any rate!

Needless to say, the stories differ in two basic elements, one was a time when due to a personal tragedy I had to undertake tasks I’d rather have not, nor ever expected I’d need to, whilst retaining a plastic smile, and it was, I guess, the power in me and my love for that person, to have managed. The other is less abstract and more physical, but I did once, in my younger years have one of these massive super-heroics shows of ability, accomplishing a feat I’d never even contemplate attempting, if it hadn’t been for the fact if I didn’t, I could’ve died. Now I know, if you know me, you’re thinking, na, mate, get out of town, but it is true. Now I find myself contemplating which one was more relevant to Power, which show of power was the Strong Lady getting at, mental, physical, or both? But it doesn’t matter, what matters is it got the cogs revolving, it got me mulling it over, and in turn, it evoked personal reflection in its narrative; hence I rightfully call it inspiring.

Charmaine Childs is a Strong Lady touring internationally as an independent artist since 2002. She trained in theatre at university, before focusing on outdoor arts festivals and circus/variety shows; if you get the opportunity to see this show, don’t argue with a strong lady, just go!