Meet the cast for Captain Corelli's Mandolin part 2

In this post we meet the Iannis family - Dr Iannis and his daughter Pelagia. Our play opens with Dr Iannis talking at the grave of his wife; bringing her up to date on the island's news and events around Europe that would soon have a major impact on life on Cephalonia.

Dr Iannis is played by Mike Maran, who has also written the stage adaptation of Louis de Bernieres' best selling book. Mike has had a long relationship with Captain Corelli having first created a stage version in 1999 for the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. That version, which stayed in his repertoire for ten years, had just three people: Mike himself told the story accompanied by Alison Stephens on Mandolin and Anne Evans on piano.

Mike began his career as a folk singer before moving into rock scene and opening shows for groups like Uriah Heap, Emerson Lake & Palmer, Captain Beefheart, ELO and Roy Wood’s Wizzard. In 1977 he opened a show at the Edinburgh Fringe about the life and work of Robert Louis Stevenson and Penny Whistles of Robert Louis Stevenson was bought by BBC2 and shown on Bank Holiday Easter Monday the next year. There followed a stream of plays with music – a new one every year.

In this interview Mike was sitting on the roof terrace outside his hotel room, with panoramic views over the city of Tbilisi. 

Pelagia begins the play as a 16 year old, the island beauty who is sought after by every young man. Dr Iannis has educated her to read and write both Greek and Italian, a skill that he fears will make her an unacceptable wife in the largely illiterate village. When she falls for a local fisherman, Mandras, their time together is cut short by the outbreak of war as Mandras is called up and his inability to read her love letters has disatrous consequences.

Natalie Kakhidze was born into a musical family (her father wrote the music for our production and is Chief Conductor of the Tbilisi Symphony Orchestra) but she broke the mould and went into the theatre rather than the concert hall. Her career since then suggests she made a good choice. Invited to join the Marjanishvili Theatre company after graduating from the Rustaveli Theatre University. Her first part was in Levan Tsuladze's award winning production of The Lady With A Dog which, like Captain Corelli, combined live actors with puppets so she has experience of seeing herself portrayed by a puppet. Natalie won the Best Actress Award in 2010 for her part in Medea Redux by Neil Labute.

At the Marjanishvili Theatre Natalie was in a dressing room named after one of the theatre's biggest stars, Veriko Anjaparidze, who joined the company with Marjanishvili in 1933 and stayed there until her death in 1987. Anjaparidze created the part of Yudif in Marjanishvili's 1929 production of Uriel Acosta, a show that is still in the company's repertoire and in which Natalie currently appears.

Captain Corelli's Mandolin opened at the Marjanishvili Theatre on 5 October 2011. It opens at the Mercury Theatre Colchester on Thursday 27 October and plays there until 12 November.  Click here to book tickets

A break in Georgia for Captain Corelli's Mandolin

After a magnificent opening, with a ten minute standing ovation, the company took a well earned rest. Theatre programming in Tbilisi is based on presenting a wide repertoire of shows so any single production rarely plays more than a couple of performances a week. With a four day break the company went exploring. Here Mike Maran describes his adventures

Georgia is a glorious patchwork of old and new.  The old town in Tblisi is a ramshackle collection of  tumble down tenements leaning against each other punctuated by piles of rubble where buildings once stood that couldn’t wait to be demolished, criss crossed by alleyways that are beautifully restored with art galleries, carpet bazaars and open air cafes where you can sip Turkish coffee and smoke a water pipe.  It would take months to explore this beautiful country.  We have made a start with three fabulous days out.

Day 1.



Bodbe Monastery



The first trip was to the tomb of St Nino in Bodbe Monastery, convent building near Signaghi which is about 100km  east of Tblisi,  We took the metro from the centre of Tbilisi to the eastern outskirts and there we found a minibus which we hired for the trip.  The wheels on the bus went round and round but only just.  We squeezed ourselves into the seats and set off eastwards over the cobbles and pot holes without any suspension.  People pay good money at fairgrounds for a five minute ride like this.  We got far better value and had two hours there and two hours back.  What fun! 

St Nino came to Georgia from the Holy Land bringing Christianity in the fourth century.  Georgia is intensely proud of its Christian roots which go back to the very first years anno domini and St Nino’s remains are housed in a beautifully restored convent  which stands in manicured lawns shaded by cypress trees.  I knelt and kissed her tomb with the other pilgrims and looked at the sacred items for sale in the gift shops.  There is none of the tackiness here that you find in Rome or in Lourdes and the air of sanctity is not eroded by clerics greedy to turn a quick buck.  The icons are bought and sold for their sacredness.  Nino was the only female among the early disciples  Most of the women in Georgia are named after her.  There is no point in calling out, ‘Nino!’ backstage.  At least half a dozen women will answer your call.

Then we moved on to Signaghi.  Some of us felt like we were in Italy which is hardly surprising because it is a hilltop town and all the new building was in the old style – as they say in Italy, ‘Dov’ era, com’ era’ – where it was and as it was.  No attempt here to graft modern architecture onto an old walled town.  Much of the building here is new but the design is centuries old and there is a sense of stepping back in time.  I think of Edinburgh and buildings that I remember from my childhood that were demolished and replaced by something entirely different which have themselves been taken down and replaced again by something  different which may very well not be fit for purpose before I die.  Many of us who live in the present inhabit an ever changing urban landscape.  Here you may live in the past. 

The museum here is home to the paintings of Nikolai Pirosmanashvili (known as Pirosmani) who depicts scenes of life on the land growing and tending the fruit and vegetables and animals that supply the tables of Georgian feasts.  I have never been in a Georgian restaurant that doesn’t have at least one reproduction of a Pirosmani canvas on its walls. 

And so to our feast.  The restaurant is at the edge of town and our table on the terrace looks over the valley below to the Caucuses mountains some 50 kilometeres away to the north.  At first I thought they were clouds in the sky  but once I got used to the light I could see the summits were snow capped.  This is a giant wall of Himalayan proportions and forms a natural boundary between Russia and Georgia.  

Roger (producer), Nino (puppeteer), Mike
Tony, Roger (actor), Jill

If only Russia would see it that way!  In generous moments Georgians drink toasts to the culture of their northern neighbours which gave birth to the glory of Chekov and Turgenyev.  In other moments Georgians ruefully observe that Christianity got no further than the Caucuses and that the lands further north are uncivilized.  Our view of the mountains was matched by the meal, plate after plateful of Georgian cuisine wich I washed down with Cha Cha – which is similar to grappa.  We ate goat in honour of the star of our show, vegetables dressed with walnut sauce and bread stuffed with cheese.

Then it was time for the bumpy ride home.  I brought my headphones and CD player with me.  Living in the past?  I hadn’t listened to Dave Milligan’s ‘Unusual Suspects’ yet though he gave it to me months ago.  The first track blew my hair off!  I never got to hear any more as I passed the headphones around the minibus and the others heard it – one at a time – and they bopped all the way home.  Nothing to do with the pot holes.

Could it get any better?

Yes.

Day 2



Chateau Mere



The next trip was to Chateau Mere, the Winiveria winery near to Telavi an hour and a half to the north east of Tblisi.  The winemaker is a patron of the theatre and a benefactor. A gigantic, cheerful man who is hugely pleased with his chateau.  When I saw how the tables were set I knew we were in for a treat.  You see tables set like this, you finger your wallet, it feels it too thin,  and you move on to somewhere cheap and cheerful.  Nothing cheap here and all of it very very cheerful and a gift.  What a meal!  There’s a lot of wine in Georgia but not all of it is made by a master wine maker.  He also makes cha cha.  Yes, I am inordinately fond of this spirit and I know a good one when I sniff it.  There was a huge help-yourself decanter at the door to the dining room on a platter with salted toasted sunflower seeds and walnuts to dip in honey.  I wasn’t sober when I sat down to dinner. 

There were  decanters of the very best red and white wines on the tables with dishes of salads and vegetables and cold chicken followed by barbecued pork, followed by singing and dancing, and more cha cha.  I lost track of whether I was drinking or dancing the cha cha and ended up by a table of Georgian singers answering them with a less than sober rendition of ‘My Love is Like a Red Red Rose.’  Our director, Levan Tsuladze was with us.  He’s a big man in every sense.  He has a lot in common with Carlo and Velisarios.  If you don’’t know what I mean read the book – or better still, come and see the show.  What I wanted to tell you was that we travelled in a minibus that was big enough for him and the rest of us and this was the Rolls Royce of minibuses.  No pot holes on the way to the winery and on the way back to Tbilisi we didn’t drive on a road at all  – it was a magic carpet that floated on a sea of cha cha and wine.  And just in case you’re thinking – don’t these guys ever do any work? – the next day we did a show.  Our Corelli, just like its cast, is becoming well oiled.

Day 3

And today was another day off.  We were taken to the Turkish sulphur baths.  There’s a whole complex of them above a sulphur spring of very hot water in the old town. 

It was here that I learned the meaning of Tbilisi– ‘Hot Water Here.’  Legend tells us that the king who founded the town was out hunting when his falcon brought down a pheasant and when the king’s dog retrieved it the bird, which had fallen into the water, was cooked.  Levan explored the different baths for us and chose the most appropriate ‘hole’.  Well, that’s what I thought he said.  He meant to say ‘hell.’  I thought of Dante, ‘Abandon faith all ye who enter here!’  In we went and stripped off and presented ourselves, naked virgins, to the Turkish bathmasters.  We soaked in the very hot water – no, we cooked.  And when we were parboiled the Turkish bathmaster tenderised us. 

Gus is the young warrior among us and he bravely went first and got slapped and pummelled and stretched.  When I saw the way his masseuse was manipualting his limbs I had to cry a note of caution about the torn cartiledges in my knees and the shoulder I dislocated during a performance of ‘The Little World of Don Camillo’ in Chelmsford.  He let me off lightly.  He slapped me around as I lay on my tummy and then turned me around and did it all over again.  He had a fine disregard for my tender parts and just got on with the job.  Nobody else yelped or flinched and neither did I.  Afterwards we sat on leather armchairs wrapped in white towels and like Roman senators we put the world to rights. 



Levan, Gus, Tony, Tim, Zura, Mike, Crinkie
at the Turkish Sulphur Baths

Levan then took us to a nearby café for beers and Chibureki.  They were like the little khingales that I love, which are small parcels of pasta filled with meat or cheese.  These were much bigger parcels of pasta filled with meat and cheese and these ones were deep fried.  Turkishly bathed and Georgianly fed we felt like a million dollars and if I had that kind of money I would have bought the saddlebags I found in the bazaar on my stroll home through the old town.  They were very old, heavy, woven carpetbags – beautiful tapestries.  I want them for my scooter.  Tim, who has come out to join us from the Mercury Theatre in Colchester, is a biker and I told him about the saddlebags.  They’re for a donkey but hey!  Donkey, Vespa, what’s the difference?  Well, speed for one thing.  Tim was concerned that I might set off down the M11 with my saddle bags flapping in the wind more like Dumbo the flying elephant that Travels with a Donkey.  I’m not convinced.  I’m as stubborn as a mule and if I still feel like a million dollars tomorrow I might go back and buy them and maybe trade in the Vespa for a donkey.

Standing ovation for Captain Corelli's Mandolin

The magic of theatre! At midnight on Tuesday people were still changing lights, completing the set and doing running repairs on puppets. But at 8 o'clock on Wednesday a packed house at the Marjanishvili Theatre settled down to see the opening performance with high expectations and those expectations had to be met.



The banner outside
the Marjanishvili Theatre



When I say 'packed' I mean packed. Every seat was taken, extra seats were added at the end of each row (would never be allowed in Britain) and then yet more people stood alongside them. Add to that the several television cameras filming bits of the show and a number of press photographers (would never be allowed in Britain) and you begin to get an idea of the sense of excitement.

A Tbilisi opening is a very special kind of evening. The cream of Georgian theatre turns up to see the work of a colleague and Levan Tsuladze, our director, is one of Georgia's leading artists so a new show by him is always eagerly anticipated. The interest of the media is very high making it difficult to walk round the theatre foyer through the ranks of television and radio crews interviewing the audience before the show, during the interval and especially at the end.

Levan has a tradition of watching a first night from the lighting box with colleagues and a bottle of whisky. Each positive response from the audience is rewarded with a drink from the bottle so he judges the success of the show from the the level of whisky remaining in the bottle at the end. Last night he went on to the second bottle!

The audience don't have whisky to show their appreciation; they just get to their feet and applaud. And applaud. And applaud. The standing ovation went on for over ten minutes but even then they were not satisfied. When the curtain finally came down the audience moved backstage to continue congratulations on a one-to-one level. Eventually they left and the company was able to move on to their celebratory party.

And what a party! A Georgian 'supra' is a feast beyond imagination. The restaurant table was groaning with food when we arrived and that was before any of the hot dishes arrived. Food just kept coming and when there was no space on the table they just piled dishes on top of each other. Vakhtang Kakhidze, who composed the incidental music for the show, was appointed 'Tamada' - toastmaster - and he kept the wine flowing with toast after toast.   Compagnia Finzi Pasca, who are performing later in the festival, joined us as guests and did an impromptu acrobatic show on the table, much to the consternation of the restaurant manager.

A great night all round. The show plays again tonight but then the company have a much earned, but unexpected, four day break. Unfortunately our scheduled performance in Yerevan has had to be cancelled because a landslide has taken away a large section of the Tbilisi - Yerevan highway. A great pity, but after four weeks of non-stop work the rest will be welcome.

Music for Captain Corelli

It’s one thing to have specially composed music for a show but there can’t be many regional theatres that have that music being played for them by a full symphony orchestra. But when the music is written by one of Georgia’s leading composers, who also happens to be the Chief Conductor of the Tbilisi Symphony Orchestra and Artistic Director of the Djansug Kakhidze Tbilisi Centre for Music & Culture, you can expect something a bit special.



Vakhtang (checked shirt on the right) and his daughter Natalia
(who plays Pelagia) during a break in rehearsals to celebrate
puppeteer Anna's birthday 



Vakhtang Kakhidze (Vato) was born into a musical family and graduated from the Moscow State Conservatory as a composer in 1981. He went on to study conducting with his father, world famous Georgian conductor Djansug Kakhidze. He has since composed music for ballet, drama and film as well as symphonic pieces for the concert hall.

His work with Levan Tsuladze, director of Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, includes the award-winning Lady With a Dog (Duruji Prize 2009) and Decameron (2011). He twice won the Georgian Theatre Union Award for best music composed for drama performance (1998 and 2005) and in 2010 was awarded the Shota Rustaveli Prize, Georgia’s highest arts honour.

His daughter Natalie (Nato to her friends) took a different path after originally studying music and decided to concentrate on theatre. She made an immediate impact and now regularly works at the Marjanishvili and also the Royal District Theatre in Tbilisi. She was Levan's first choice to play Pelagia - indeed she was cast before any of the other actors in the play.

In this short interview Vato describes the process of composing music for the theatre and his working relationship with Levan.

The orchestra is busy preparing for the Autumn Tbilisi International Music Festival but found time to record music for the Captain Corelli. The festival itself opens on 20 September with Chinese conductor Tan Lihua conducting Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No 3 (soloist Tamar Licheli from Georgia) and Sibelius Symphony No 1 as well as Tibetan Dance Music by Ke Jie Fang. On 24 September Vakhtang conducts his orchestra in a programme of Gershwin with George Mikadze on piano.

Alongside his original music composed for the show, Vato has put together a soundtrack of music from the Mediterranean combing the sounds of Greece and Italy. Levan, the director, is very keen on using music in his productions, underscoring the action and heightening emotional moments. Music ranges from Orthodox Church chants to folk music, 1940s popular music and opera - and of course Tony Casement, who plays Captain Corelli, has been busy learning to play the mandolin!

These two clips show the string section of the orchestra laying down tracks for the wind section to add their contribution at a later time. The recording took place in the orchestra’s own magnificently restored concert hall but apologies for the sound quality here - the recording was made on a simple Flip camera - but you can hear the music in all its glory when you see the production.

A double episode from Mike Maran's rehearsal blog

Things are hotting up in Tbilisi where the company are in rehearsals for Captain Corelli's Mandolin. Things are also hotting up in Colchester where bookings have now passsed the 35% mark. The show opens in Colchester on 27 October and runs through until 12 November so make sure of your tickets by calling the box office on 01206 573948 or book online at the Mercury Theatre website by clicking here. Performances in Tbilisi will be on 5 and 6 October as part of the Tbilisi International Festival of Theatre. Full details are on the festival website here

Today we have two instalments of Mike Maran's rehearsal blog:

Woke up this morning…da da da da dum!

It rained during the night.  This is day ten and last night’s rain was the first to fall since we arrived.  All the wonderful fruit and vegetables growing in the market gardens around Tblisi drank well last night.  So did I.

Our team is growing.  We began with 6 puppeteers and now we are ten.  It’s a labour intensive project.  Six puppeteers manipulate two puppets and I had written scenes that required three. To be perfectly honest, I never had an upper limit in my mind and would have been ready to go back to the drawing board and remove the goat or the pine martin from a scene although it would have broken my heart to fire the pine martin.  Anyway the pine martin had nothing to worry about because, manipulated by one puppeteer, it was good value. 

Levan, our director, wanted crowd scenes, but crowds of individuals.  So when Corelli arrives the Cephalonians line the street to give the Italians an inhospitable and sullen welcome.  Corelli, an actor played by Tony, asks Limone (puppet) the way to the town hall.  She hides behind Velisarios (another puppet).  Corelli crosses the road and asks Father Arsenios (puppet) where he can buy a map of the island and the priest gives him a cold shoulder.  The communist (puppet) lays down a Greek flag, the royalist is there too, other villagers, and a jeep full of Italian soldiers, - all of them reacting to what’s going on.  Ten puppeteers handle this.  And so we are ten - not six.  Nino (puppetmaker) has more costumes to make and Roger (producer) has gone back to the UK to rewrite the budget.



Birthday girl Anna with Director, Levan Tsuladze



One of the new puppeteers celebrated her birthday so rehearsals finished early to party in her honour. The Mercury Theatre actors bought her a birthday cake and so, of course, did all the other puppeteers so there were two enormous cakes. We sang Happy Birthday to Anna in Georgian and in English and then we drank toasts to her.  The whisky flowed.  When Tony had to leave to get back to the flat for a Skype conversation with his children another bottle of whisky was opened for a toast to his children, and when Jill got up to leave another was opened to toast stage managers.  And when another bottle of whisky was opened there were only five of us left and we toasted each other until it was done.  And they weren’t just bottles – they were litres. 



Irina, who's helping with puppet costumes and Crinkie,
puppeteer,  celebrating Anna's birthday.
Clearly neither of them alcoholics



Levan’s (director) definition of an alcoholoic is someone who stops after two or three drinks.  That person is thinking of himself and the acholol – so he’s an alcoholic, unlike those who stay till it’s all gone, caring nothing for the alcohol, they drink for each other.  They are not alcoholics.  I rolled home well after midnight feeling no pain.

Then it rained.  Roger (actor) who shares the flat says the night lit up with sheet lightning and thunder.  I missed it all.

Today’s rehearsal was long – we ploughed through pages of script and the goat stole the show.  First of all Roger, playing the Italian quartermaster, eyes up the goat for dinner.  Then when Corelli arrives the goat nips his finger.  The goat has the same puppeteer as the pine martin and this man has a genius for bringing animals to life.  Then the puppeteers take over the story completely as Velisarios and Carlo smoke together, the Italian jeep is sabotaged, and then blows up killing the young Italian soldier.  Corelli (actor) has to write to the young boy’s mother and weeps as the goat looks over his shoulder.  It is heartbreaking.  There won’t be a dry eye in the house.  Dr Iannis’s (that’s me) special friend today is Father Arsenios (puppet) but when he come knocking on my door with gossip about my daughter and the mandolin playing Italian captain I have a right go at him and send him and his tittle tattle packing.  But, of course, Father Arsenios is only saying what everybody is saying and, however cross Dr Iannis is with the priest, it’s blindingly obvious to him too.  And so the die have been cast.  Mandras has gone off to the mountains to fight for Greece and the enemy is living in his fiance’s house.  Things are going to get worse, a lot worse, better they get better.

Day 11 and today’s rehearsal was electrifying. 

I have lived with this book for twelve years and more, performing Captain Corelli’s Mandolin up until last year in a storytelling musical way in theatres all over the UK.  Pelagia and Corelli inhabit my world.  I know them.  I went back to the book and read it again before making this new adaptation for the stage.  I wrote episodes that we can show on stage that I left  out of the storytelling adaptation, the beach for example where the Italian soldiers dance with the prostitutes and Limone rides on a mine as it drifts ashore – scenes that are better shown than told – and puppetry is a wonderful medium to bring them alive. 

But when two people fall in love it’s actors we need – not puppets.  I never referred to the pages in the book when Corelli tells Pelagia he loves her.  I know them and although I wrote the lines that Tony and Nato spoke to each other this afternoon nothing prepared me for what I saw.  The actors took Louis de Bernieres’ characters off the page and stood them on their feet.  Tony (Corelli), Nato (Pelagia) and Levan (director)  know these people too.  They know the risks you take when you tell someone that you love them – and for Corelli and Pelagia especially – Corelli, the captain of an enemy occupying force and Pelagia, betrothed to a Greek patriot who is fighting for his country.  Tony and Nato took the risks in both hands and the glowing embers burst into flames.  I could not begin to describe that rehearsal for you – and I won’t.  But there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.  And Levan (director) – the man’s a genius – proposes to begin the next scene in the rain with Dr Iannis holding an umbrella, pleading with his daughter to wait until after the war.  I had very little to do today except watch and admire.

I had lunch with Gus (Mandras).  Mandras left the village to go to the mountains and join the partisans and Gus left the theatre to have the afternoon and evening off.  He cheerfully drank two beers while I sipped a bottle of lemonade and went back to work.  Gus went into town with a copy of Hamlet in his back pocket which is more than Mandras can take with him to the mountains.  Mandras is a good fisherman but cannot read or write and one day soon Gus will land the big part that I guess all young actors go fishing for.

Jill Russell (Mercury Theatre stage manager) and I have landed a nice little job. Vato (our music director) is Chief Concuctor of The Tbilisi Symphony Orchestra,  and he has asked us to record the message to the audience before concerts to remind them to switch off their mobile phones.  He wants good English voices (I’m Scottish!) - a male voice and a female voice.  So Jill and I are going to do it for him in a recording studio tomorrow afternoon.  Eat your heart out Sir Ian McKellen!



Roger, Nino and friend, Zura, cheering on Georgia
against Scotland in Oct 07



I notice that Scotland beat Georgia in the Rugby World Cup.  Well, I’m very pleased about that.  But I suspect our producer, Roger McCann who is an Englishman in love with Georgia feels differently.  There are still fond memories here of an international football match in October 2007 when Georgia beat Scotland in a Euro 2008 qualifying match (Roger was there). 

The Tartan Army descended on Georgia in their hordes and watched their team lose before going out on the town.  The locals were delighted by the Scots capacity for alcohol - the Georgian hosts and their Scottish guests fell into each others arms and drank for each other and sang for each other.  You see, Scots don’t only sing when they are winning, and this is true for Georgians too.  Give us a drink and we start to sing.  The Georgians were mighty impressed with the Tartan Army that night and I walk around Tblisi wearing tartan braces to hold my trousers up.

Tomorrow the British will be blockading Cephalonia and everybody is hungry. Dr Iannis suggests that everyone goes to the forest to collect snails.  We are going to rehearse this on stage tomorrow where Levan has arranged a forest  covered in snails.  I have eaten snails in Italy.  My dinner companion showed me how to flick them out of their shells with a toothpick.  You must flick them towards yourself, not your date, otherwise she will get your snails in her blouse.  I learn something new every day.  Gus showed me how to use Skype and we skyped each other across the table at lunch.  Who says the art of conversation is dead?

Ciao! 

Mike

Mike Maran's Captain Corelli Rehearsal Blog #2

Day 6 and I’m getting into a groove.
Up at 8am, shower, breakfast, and a letter home. 10am, to the coffee shop which has wi-fi to e-mail my letter and a capuccino. 11am rehearsal until 2.30. Lunch and a stroll then rehearsal until 9pm. A beer on the way home, a few words for this blog and then sleep.


The view from the back of our flat




The view from the front



It’s a strict routine – so strict that I go to the same restaurant every day, sit at the same seat at the same table and I always have khingalis. Yes, a creature of habit but an adventurous soul who today, in addition to my regular khingalis, ate a puree of aubergines and walnuts, cheese dumplings, cottage cheese with mint wrapped in a parcel of cheese, (the cheese rolled into a thin layer is used to wrap up whatever is inside and served cold – they look like large ravioli), a pastry stuffed with cheese and a dish of hot smoked spare ribs, all washed down with a bottle of tarragon lemonade. No, I didn’t eat it all on my own. Roger (producer) and Roger (actor) had lunch with me. It’s the only meal of the day and there is time to eat well in between rehearsals. And I do. Those who know Georgia know that it is a gourmet’s paradise – not for its haute cuisine but for the ingredients. It is all home grown in the market gardens that surround Tbilisi. It seems that everyone has a shed somewhere out there in the south Caucuses where they grow tomatoes, cucumbers, aubergines, and chillies and so on and so forth and they carry the veg into Tbilisi in the morning and set out their produce in cardboard boxes outside little basement shops - apples, oranges, peaches, and I mustn’t forget the corner shops selling cut flowers.


The Georgian creation myth says that when God was making the world and Georgians were queuing up with everyone else to get their land, they became hungry and impatient and went off somewhere to eat and drink. After the meal they fell asleep by which time all the land had been distributed. There was nothing left. At first God was unsympathetic and told the Georgians they shouldn’t have left the queue to eat and drink. The Georgians explained that they were toasting God’s health when one thing led to another and they fell asleep. And God took pity on them, relented, and let them have the land he was keeping for himself. And here we are. There is a MacDonalds here where you can buy the same french fries that you can get in New York and in Tokyo which may or may not contain potatoes. Or you can join me in the Georgian restaurant round the corner for a plate of french fries made from potatoes grown in Georgian soil which cost half the price, and I doubt God eats better chips in heaven.
No wonder people round here live for a long time!


The chap in the theatre who is responsible for explosions is 90. He is a wiry little man with smooth tanned skin and large thick spectacles. He brought the jeep to the stage today – the Italian jeep that gets blown up - and showed us the explosion. Flames leapt out from under the bonnet. He clapped his hands with pleasure and so did we. He had a throat cancer some years ago and the surgeon removed his voice box. He cannot make any vocal sounds but communicates through a series of clicks and tuts which everyone in the theatre understands. He was proposing to detonate simulataneously three more explosions on the driver’s side and the passenger’s side to blow open the doors and one underneath the jeep to blow it up in the air. Health and safety people in the venues which are taking our production may read this with fear and trembling. Be afraid! Be very afraid! There’s the episode when the mine is washed up on the beach… which we haven’t got to yet. That’s an explosion that involves an awful lot of sand! I shall go to bed now and dream about explosions.

More tomorrow.

Gus reflects on a week away from home

I thought I should pen something to mark our first week out here. Having been lucky enough to have had this evening off, it turns out I am not needed until 3pm tomorrow either! And so it is that I find myself at my computer at the highly unprofessional school night hour of six whole minutes past midnight. My two flatmates - Tony and Jill - are hopefully sound asleep and not being disturbed by my tap tap.

Anyway, this is about the time that we arrived here in Tbilisi a full seven nights ago. I can't tell plainly whether it feels longer or shorter than that. I have become increasingly homesick over the past few days, and that can't help but drag. On the other hand, I can't quite grasp that we've already had seven of our precious rehearsal days - and we won't ever get them back again!

The show's coming together well. It's very strange seeing the whole picture mounted around you - lights, sound, costume, props - but I like it. Among other things, it forces the actor to make bold choices. After all, a whole sequence might be suddenly thrown together before your very eyes based in some small part on your particular reading of the given situation - so you'd better have something good to put up there!

We seem to be settling into our Tbilisi life comfortably enough too. Our Georgian hosts have been so kind and remain on hand to help with anything we might need, but we have enjoyed exploring our new temporary home for ourselves in the past week. Perhaps predictably, we seem to have honed in on a couple of places in particular - The Arts Cafe (get us!) for an after-work cheeky, and Prospero's Books (spot the actors) for a pot of Earl Grey and a naughty bit of carrot cake - and a decent internet connection.

So so far so jolly good. But I know we all miss our lovely loved ones back home. My beautiful bride to be and I haven't managed to find our Skype rhythm quite yet, but we did manage an all too brief face-to-face on Sunday. It was wonderful to see her - even if it wasn't quite the same. But I think of her lots and like to think that we're creating something she'll enjoy sometime in November, in a garrison town far far away.

Until then, thank God for Wi-Fi!



Relaxing after rehearsals in the Art Cafe
From Left: Roger (producer) Gus, Jill (Stage Manager), Roger (actor) and Tony
Mike is taking the picture



Mike Maran's rehearsal blog

Sunday



Nino and Maia with the
puppet of Dr Iannis



Here I am in Tbilisi and we’ve just finished day 5 of our rehearsals in the Marjanishvili Theatre with our director, Levan Tsuladze, and I find it enthralling. 

I spent this morning in a café with a communist, a royalist, a fascist and a priest.  They were having a right go at each other and I just sat there and listened to this furious argument going on.  They seemed very affectionate towards me and demanded my attention.  The priest finally got the radio to work and through the crackles and hiss we learned of another atrocity in the war.  We all followed the priest to the church to pray.  All these characters are puppets made by the maestro puppeteer at the theatre, Nino Namicheishvili.  They might seem an unseemly bunch but they are my new friends.  I find myself talking to these puppets in breaks in rehearsals and we engage in delightful conversations that have nothing to do with the war or with the play.  The fascist sits on my arm and taps my spectacles when he wants my attention.  The communist stabs his finger in my ear to emphasize his point. The priest, despite his Orthodox Christianity which reeks of Byzantium has a blunt four square Yorkshire accent.  My new friends are all disparate characters voiced by Tony and Roger, two of the actors from The Mercury Theatre in Colchester who are working with me on this production, and they are all loveable. The royalist doesn’t deign to look at me – I only see him in profile as he sits across the table from me.  Oh, I like him!



Gus put through his paces by Gia Marghania



That was this morning’s rehearsal.  This evening’s rehearsal was thrilling.  Gus Gallagher, the third Mercury Theatre actor who’s with us here, has been put through his paces by the theatre’s choreographer, and he dances like a Greek God!  No wonder Pelagia falls for him. He is electrifying and erotic.  Mandras doesn’t have a lot to say.  When I wrote the adaptation I was afraid I hadn’t fleshed out the character but Levan assured me it was good.  It’s enough!  Levan had a vision that went way beyond the words on the page.  I hadn’t realised I was going to be part of such a physical production.  At the end of tonight’s rehearsal Gus was drenched in sweat but he looked like he’d enjoyed it as much as I had.  I’m going to have to get rid of this admiration because I’m Dr Iannis and I’m supposed to be dismayed at losing my beautiful daughter to this illiterate fisherman. 

Between the morning and eveing rehearsals I went for a stroll around Tbilisi  with our producer, Roger McCann and we took our life in our hands every time we crossed a road.  Roger and I share a passion for khingalis – a delightful Georgian pasta parcel with minced meat and gravy inside.  You sprinkle it with black pepper and then bite into it.  For a novice it’s quite tricky.  You have to bite into it and suck in the gravy taking care not to spill the juice down your shirt but at the same time you must not inhale the pepper and cough and splutter.  When you eat khingali don’t sit opposite a novice like me – you might get my khingale all over your shirt!

Here's a video of Mike's first encounter with Khingale, two years ago.

The roads are awful – the traffic’s a nightmare – the food is heavenly – and the theatre is fabulous.

Tomorrow we’re going to rehearse the Italian invasion of Cephalonia.  For those who have read the book you’ll know this doen’t happen unitl page a hundred and ninety something.  Tony, who has been voicing puppets for the last five days, plays Corelli and at last he’ll get to march into the story and strut his stuff.

For anyone reading this in the UK you may like to know that we are bathed in warm summer sunshine – T-shirts and shorts.  We left Gatwick wearing scarves and gloves!  

For anyone thinking of coming to Georgia the local religion is Hospitality and regular services are held with copious amounts of food and drink.  The only comparable ritual I can think of is a Burns supper which is celebrated in Scotland once a year.  The celebrations here are held several times a week.  But now I must sleep because tomorrow I have to work.  Ciao!  Mike

Rehearsals start in Tbilisi

The British contingent has arrived in Tbilisi to start rehearsals for Captain Corelli's Mandolin, a co-production between the Mercury Theatre Company Colchester and the Marjanishvili Theatre Tbilisi in assocociation with NFA International Arts and Culture. The show will open in Tbilisi on 5 October as part of the Tbilisi International Festival of Theatre before moving on to Colchester, opening on 27 October at the Mercury Theatre.



Mike and Gus feel the coolness in the air

 Things started easily with a short meeting to introduce everybody and talk about the process Then it was off to Levan Tsuladze's summer house, high above the heat and dust of Tbilisi for a welcoming party. At 1200 metres above sea level the air was clear, the wine was cool and the food delicious!

 The first day proper of rehearsal began with  a reading of the script. As well as playing their own characters, the actors have to provide voices for the puppets so they need a variety of voices - and then have to remember which is which! Towards the end of Act 1 there was a long pause. We had reached the moment when Corelli arrives in the village and addresses the villagers.There are three characters in the jeep plus a number of villagers standing and watching. Levan turned to me with a grave expression: 'Roger, we will need more puppeteers'. So, can we a) find the budget for three more puppeteers and b) arrange UK visas for them in time? It'll be alright on the night.


The first read through


The rehearsal process is quite different to the way in which the Mercury company is used to working. They are used to working in a rehearsal room without a set and with rehearsal props and furniture but with this show all elements are brought together at the same time. As the production is so visual, it is important for the Director to be able to see the finished effect as it takes shape.

Most of the first day on stage was taken up with the first scene - only a few lines of text but a mountain of technical effects. Dr Iannis (Mike Maran) is sitting at his wife's grave chatting to her. In the background villagers are climbing the hill to the church carrying candles and singing to pray for the sick. Iannis decides to join them. At this point the scene transforms and the live actor is replaced by his puppet. It is a beautiful moment but also crucial for the audience as it is the first moment when they realise that the characters on stage are both actors and puppets. They will hopefully marvel at the beauty - and does it matter if they don't know that those few seconds took nearly four hours to create? 

 

 

Hands and Feet for Captain Corelli

Booking is now open for Captain Corelli’s Mandolin at the Mercury Theatre in Colchester from 27^th October to 12^th November.

You can book online by clicking here Mercury Theatre box office or telephone +44 (0)1206 573948. Performances are at 7.30pm Monday to Friday with matinee performances Thurs 2^nd and 10^th November at 2.00pm and Saturday 5^th and 12^th at 2.30pm.

The show is a co-production between the Mercury Theatre Company and the Marjanishvili Theatre in Tbilisi, in association with NFA International Arts and Culture. Four actors from the Mercury will be joined by one actor and six puppeteers from the Marjanshvili in a production directed by Levan Tsuladze.

This is the fourth post on the blog charting the progress of the production. To see them in chronological order, click on the links on the right, starting from July!

You Need Hands

In the last blog we showed how the heads were being made for the production of Captain Corelli’s Mandolin. Several of the puppets will be representations of real actors in the show, and are therefore carefully modelled from reality whilst others appear only as puppets, giving greater design freedom. But all of them need hands and feet, meaning 32 pairs of hands and 32 pairs of feet.

The hands are made from a special substance that can be worked and modelled like clay but dries in the air into a hardened substance that can be carved and used like wood. Each hand takes about half a day to make although with drying time at each stage it mounts up to several days. The feet are less complex and are carved from wood.

The picture on the left shows the basic structure of the hands. They may look like egg whisks but these show the palms of the hands with the wires ready to become fingers. You’ll notice how the thumbs are placed on the top and the fingers come from the centre of the 'palm'. Each hand is operated by a rod, which will be added at a later stage. They are not actually directly attached to the body, although it will look as though they are.

The next stage, shown in the picture on the right, is to build up the fingers using the special ‘plastic wood’. This is a long process as it has to be done with a small piece at a time because the material dries in the air; simply rolling up a piece of the material and sticking it to the wire won’t work because it would just crumble. Once the basic finger is made it is further modelled with extra pieces of plastic wood being added in a painstaking process. In this picture you can see one pair of hands with just the palms and wire, one pair with the fingers partly made and two pairs of children’s hands – too small for individual fingers!

Sanding down the rough work makes a smooth, realistic hand, another time consuming process. Each hand is then individually painted in a neutral colour and hung up to dry.

This video shows you the process. Nino is making adjustments to the fingers; Ani is rubbing them down and painting; and finally, Maia is putting finishing touches to the feet.

Next step will be making the bodies and putting the puppets together. And of course there are the various animals to be made. Watch this space!

Are you in Edinburgh for the festival?

You can catch Mike Maran Mike Maran, who has written the stage adaptation and is playing Dr Iannis, in Edinburgh where is performing 3 of his shows at Valvona and Crolla (venue 67): A Funny Valentine, about the life of jazz musician Chet Baker; Did You Used To Be RD Laing, about the controversial Scottish psychaiatrist; and Italia ‘n’ Caledonia, the story of the early immigrants from Italy who settled in Scotland, not least Mike’s own family and that of Philip Contini who now owns Valvona and Crolla. Full details are here on Mike Maran's website

You can also see another production from the Mercury Theatre, Wretch by Gari Jones at the Gryphon Point Hotel (venue 109a)  Full details can be found here