spectre

Too tired to talk. Or to conceive or perceive original music. Instead I propose interactive theatre composed of various scenes of interminable length, possibly life-long. The main site is an old public house in the region of south London. A ghostly production, it begins heading the audienceas if on a ghost tour into the abandoned or squatted pub. After self-congratulatory welcoming drinks, the audience are separately led upstairs into the private lodgings and rooms of the establishment. What begins as curious, suggestive though an ultimately banal tour ends up being disrupted by live drama: accusatory dialogues in small rooms; characters presumed to be fellow tour-members becoming dramatically abusive; uncanny shrill and piercing shriekings, with the charged erotic energy that is suggested.

Traditional saloon bar changes violently. A woman exhorts us (the birthday downstairs, the eulogy) to remember any detail at all of her loved one. Visibly older, she appears later to shock us with the guilt of death and age, and the weight of her unresolved accusations. Small fires burn, the audience coralled into senseless risky games of chance, the tarot and the dice, tricked into betting their lives and other audience participants' souls – dialogues replay in small scenes again, toilets, drink cellar, beneath and above, behind the walls – a murder made and a murder – resolved? - of sorts.