After a week of readings for all 6 of our shortlisted plays for #APlayForIreland, Fishamble Literary Manager Gavin Kostick talks about the process behind the lastest stage of the project, what's next for the shortlisted playwrights, and how many pots of Tesco Finest coffee and tea he made over the 6 days.
Visit our A PLAY FOR IRELAND page for more information about this 2-year initiative, supported by Tesco Finest, with Transportation Partner Irish Rail. Thank you to our wonderful partner venues Draíocht, The Everyman, The Lime Tree Theatre/Belltable, Lyric Theatre Belfast, Pavilion Theatre, and Town Hall Theatre.
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Fishamble is honoured to share this essay by Patrick Lonergan, Professor of Drama and Theatre Studies at NUI Galway & Burns Visiting Scholar in Irish Studies, Spring 2019, Boston College. One of the most memorable experiences I’ve had in the theatre in recent years happened during the summer of 2013, when I brought a group of about 30 people to see Fishamble’s production of Guaranteed! by Colin Murphy at the Mermaid Arts Centre in Bray.
When planning that visit, I’d been a little apprehensive. Guaranteed! was not going to be a full production, we’d been told, but a script-in-hand performance – so I’d worried that it might be more like a lecture than a play. Then there was the subject matter: the bail-out of the Irish banks by the Fianna Fail-led government in 2008. This was an important topic, to be sure, but was it the kind of story that would make for good drama? But upon our arrival at the venue, it was immediately obvious that those concerns had been misplaced. We often read reviews that describe the atmosphere in a theatre as “electric” – but even in the foyer before the play began, it was clear that such a description was (for once) both appropriate and accurate: everyone present seemed energized, alert and ready to listen – and also ready to express themselves about what had been done to their country, in a post-show discussion that was anticipated eagerly. As the performance began, that mood intensified. Yes, the actors were holding their scripts – but they’d obviously rehearsed the play in detail, and had fully worked out their timing and movement (under the direction of Conall Morrison). The audience laughed and groaned in the way you might hear at a summer production of a John B Keane melodrama (which the story of the bail-out all too often resembled), but there was also a feeling in the air that we were carefully gathering evidence, trying to understand the banking guarantee from a human as well as political perspective. There was also a huge sense of (to use another electrical metaphor) currency: that what we were watching was a live experience not just in the sense that it was being performed before us by actors, but also that it was an attempt to understand the Ireland we were living in right now. I came away with a much stronger awareness of how Irish theatre is inherently political - but also with a greater understanding of how Irish politics is inherently theatrical. As Fishamble has been celebrating its thirtieth anniversary this year, I’ve often found myself thinking back to that night at the Mermaid, which feels like a strong encapsulation of the importance of that company and of their place in the Irish theatrical ecosystem. Guaranteed! started life as a short piece written in response to Fishamble’s call-out in 2011 for “tiny plays for Ireland” – works of less than three minutes that were intended to point ways forward for a nation that, in the wake of the bail-out, found itself uncertain about the future. At a depressing time in Irish history, that appeal for new plays was a heartening example of Fishamble’s faith in the playwright, of their belief that there are people all across this island who have something to say on both page and stage. That faith was triumphantly validated when an amazing number of submissions materialized – 1700 in all, from every county in Ireland. The resulting production of 25 of those plays (one of them a shorter version of Murphy’s Guaranteed) appeared at Project Arts Centre in March 2012 – fittingly, just in time for St Patrick’s Day. Under the direction of Jim Culleton, the theatre space became a kind of citizens’ assembly, in which established playwrights, emerging authors, and people who’d never before had their work staged were all presented together on an equal footing. The tiny plays (which returned for a second edition in 2013) demonstrated Fishamble’s longstanding belief that plays can be ‘for Ireland’ in the broadest possible sense. The theatre, they have always shown, can be a space to disentangle matters of political or social urgency, especially when it comes to topics that the Dáil or the news media have been unable to address conclusively. This trait was evident in their earliest years as Pigsback (the company’s original name), when they produced Deirdre Hines’ Howling Moons, Silent Sons (1991), premiering a play that was several years ahead of its time in its exploration of the interplay between gender, the personal and the political in Northern Ireland. And it’s remained evident in the present, as we saw last year when they premiered Eva O’Connor’s Maz and Bricks, a drama that created space for us to think through debates about the repeal of the eighth amendment. In the years between Hines and O’Connor’s plays, we’ve seen work on a variety of similarly urgent topics. Jim O’Hanlon gave us one of the earliest plays about race and immigration in Ireland when The Buddhist of Castleknock appeared in 2002. Fourteen years later, Rosaleen McDonagh’s Mainstream showed us how much we in Ireland still have to learn about diversity and difference, in a drama that was unflinching in its presentation of the oppression faced by people with disabilities and members of the Travelling community. In 2005, Fishamble worked with Amnesty International to present a series of monologues called She Was Wearing…, the aim of which was to contribute to Amnesty’s Stop Violence Against Women campaign. And in 2012, shortly after Ireland was bailed out by the IMF, they premiered The Great Goat Bubble by Julian Gough, a work that was simultaneously hilarious and terrifying in its suggestion that the global financial system should be seen as a demented pyramid scheme. These (and many other) Fishamble plays spoke directly to their social and political moments – but they also transcended their specific times and places to succeed as carefully-wrought dramas first and foremost. Fishamble’s plays have also been ‘for Ireland’ in broadening our understanding of how our country could be represented on stage. For example, The Ash Fire - the 1992 play by Fishamble Literary Manager Gavin Kostick – was a drama about a Jewish family in Dublin. Its setting placed it snugly in the tradition of working-class urban plays like those of Sean O’Casey, but it also expanded our understanding of Irishness, reminding us of the importance of Ireland’s Jewish communities both historically and in the present. In later years, the company showed us a variety of other communities, taking us to the middle-class living room of Joseph O’Connor’s Red Roses and Petrol in 1995 and Jim O’Hanlon’s Pilgrims in the Park (2004); the Ballymun of Sean McLoughlin’s Noah and the Tower Flower (2007); and the contested coastal borderland of Abbie Spallen’s Strandline (2009). They’ve also repeatedly tackled the hardest questions faced by our society, as for instance when Deirdre Kinahan’s 2014 Spinning asked us to understand what goes through the mind of the men responsible for the spate of murder-suicides that had been happening in Ireland during the preceding years. More recently, in Rathmines Road (another Kinahan play), they placed us firmly in the mind of a woman who’s faced with the decision about whether to report to the police that she’d been raped many years before – in a production that demanded not only that we sympathize with the woman but also that we ask ourselves what we would do in the same situation. These are productions that refuse to let their audiences off the hook. There have also been many moments of joy or tenderness, of course, and especially of humour – memorably so in such plays as Michael Collins’ Tadhg Stray Wandered In, Monged by Gary Duggan and Rosalind Haslett’s Still, to give just three examples. And if Fishamble have been committed to the importance of the play, they have also been thoroughly committed to the idea of the playwright. They have an exceptional track record in the nurturing of new writers, and I’ve often thought that they don’t get enough credit for having produced the earliest plays of such major dramatists as Marina Carr, Mark O’Rowe and Stella Feehily. They’ve also played an instrumental role in supporting more established writers (it’s often been observed that getting a first or second play produced in Ireland is much easier than staging an eighth or ninth) – which would include their recent work with Deirdre Kinahan as well as with Sebastian Barry, whose On Blueberry Hill returns for a national tour in 2019. That concern with ensuring that playwriting can be seen as a career that lasts a lifetime is matched by their work with actors who want to perform in their own work. We’ve seen this in their collaboration with Irish Theatre Institute and Dublin Fringe on the “Show in a Bag” initiative, which has given us exciting new writing by people like Bryan Burroughs, Noni Stapleton, Emmet Kirwan and Sonya Kelly (among many others). But it’s also been evident in the stunning solo plays of Pat Kinevane: Forgotten, Silent, Underneath and (premiering just a few weeks ago) Before. This is an amazingly diverse range of writers and plays – and that diversity is all the more impressive when we consider that the majority of them were directed by one person, Jim Culleton. His impact on Irish writing over the last thirty years is literally second to none – and that’s before we consider the work he’s done in supporting Irish actors, designers and producers at all stages of their careers. And as Artistic Director he’s also been important in working with other directors, Morrison’s work on Guaranteed being one example – but his company has also provided opportunities for us to see work by such directors as Annabelle Comyn, Roisin McBrinn, Jo Mangan, David Horan, Mikel Murfi, and Louise Lowe. And here I’m led to think of another those memorable nights at the theatre that I’ve had with Fishamble: the 2007 premiere of Sebastian Barry’s Pride of Parnell Street. Again, I thought I knew what the play was going to be about before I saw it: another Barry play, another monologue play, another football play, another play about inner city Dublin – I was looking forward to it but definitely had a set of unconscious expectations that were based on things I’ve seen in the past. And again I was completely surprised. Under Culleton’s direction, Karl Shiels and Mary Murray gave performances that, even eleven years later, I can still remember as vividly as if I’d seen them last week. They were portraying a married couple whose lives had been torn apart by the man’s violence against the woman, set against the backdrop of Ireland’s elimination from the 1990 World Cup. What has stayed with me a decade later is the compassion of the directing and acting, which was unambiguous in its condemnation of the man’s violence, but which also refused to dehumanize him, opening up the possibility that we might forgive him, while ensuring we would never excuse him. Murray’s character was a woman who could acknowledge that she loved her husband, but she had also reached a point of loving herself enough to leave him, and to stay away. While Culleton’s direction has always been admired for its technical subtlety, this was a crystal-clear example of how humane his work always is. And that humanity reminds us of one final way in which Fishamble have been a theatre company for Ireland. At its best – whether it’s amateur or professional, devised or scripted, classic or contemporary – theatre in Ireland seeks to expand our imaginations, to push us beyond the limits of what we think of as being likely or possible, whether on stage or in life itself. But first as Pigsback and then as Fishamble, this company has also expanded our imagination of what we ourselves can be – and it’s for that reason that I’ve always found myself being surprised by them, shaken out of my expectations and assumptions. That’s been true for the countless people who never thought they could write a play but proved themselves wrong when they took a Fishamble course or sent a short play to them and had it staged. It’s been true for the theatre artists who’ve worked with the company on stage or via resources like their new play clinic. And, perhaps most importantly, it’s been true for the many audiences who have found in Fishamble a company that has always been willing to place their faith in us – making us believe again in our own capacity for compassion, curiosity and action. Fishamble has been busy this year with its major developmental project, A PLAY FOR IRELAND, wherein the writers created 30 new projects in collaboration with our partner venues: Belltable, Draíocht, The Everyman, Lyric Theatre, Town Hall Theatre, and Pavilion Theatre. A PLAY FOR IRELAND is supported by Tesco Finest, with transportation partner Irish Rail. Below, some of our playwrights share their thoughts and experiences during the first year of this initiative. Karen Cogan & Noelle Brown - The Everyman, Cork
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The Play for Ireland process is one that has been defined by a strong sense of community and network. As the sessions have progressed and the plays have been developed, there has always been an atmosphere of generosity and support not only in the individual venues but across the entire programme. Indeed it is now entirely possible to spot when two Play for Ireland playwrights are in the same room. One looks at the other with a sense of exhilarating terror, usually connoted by the raising of the eyebrows or the furrowing of the brow. The look is then in some way reciprocated by the other playwright and in this way, the tension is relieved for another few weeks. |
The Town Hall has been a wonderful venue for our group and we are always warmly received. So many of our country's greatest playwrights have migrated West in search of inspiration. We can only speculate as to how the works of Synge or Lady Gregory might have been bolstered by the luxury of a cup of tea and a half a twix on a quiet train journey before reaching the hallowed ground of Connaught. What has been particularly enjoyable about this process is meeting the other writers and discussing each other's work. It's always a nice feeling when your impetus to write is borne out of the excitement just to find out how your play ends. This process has given me a good few of those moments. Mind you, I still haven't a clue how it ends. Come back to me in a few weeks. (Exeunt, pursued by a deadline).
Clare McMahon - Lyric Theatre, Belfast
First up was Kerry. In our tiny Toyota Aygo my husband and I followed the trail of tourist packed buses around the breath-taking Ring of Kerry. I had been told of its powerful views but nothing could prepare me for how utterly amazing it was up there. Living in Belfast I’ve gotten used to the urban landscape, and the Hills around the city satisfy any longing for greenery, but to stand and see an expansive landscape full of mountains, cliffs, a plethora of greens, and lakes, lakes inside mountains, I was taken aback. Inspired. In my mind Ireland was a small country, with ups and downs, but standing looking across the Lakes of Killarney, I felt like a giantess witnessing the world.
I was also delighted to discover, in true Irish style, the ever-popular Avoca had set up camp on a sharp bend in the middle of the ring. American tourists crashed in and out as if this may be their last Latte before they journey back to the states. It was difficult to reconcile the inspirational effect of the view with the constant battering tourists seemed to be having on the place. A place of beauty had hundreds of buses rattling through it every day. It left me with a feeling of unease, and a hope to return in the depths of winter, to witness the place in solitude.
I was also delighted to discover, in true Irish style, the ever-popular Avoca had set up camp on a sharp bend in the middle of the ring. American tourists crashed in and out as if this may be their last Latte before they journey back to the states. It was difficult to reconcile the inspirational effect of the view with the constant battering tourists seemed to be having on the place. A place of beauty had hundreds of buses rattling through it every day. It left me with a feeling of unease, and a hope to return in the depths of winter, to witness the place in solitude.
On the way to Dingle our car exhaust fell off. All the potholes had been too much for our 900cc car and the exhaust bracket disintegrated. As it was Saturday evening, we could not find a mechanic willing to help, ‘I’ve to be in Killarney for seven’ one said to my other half. I called my Dad. Even from Belfast he helped – the mystical power of Dads. He told us to try tying the exhaust back up to what was left of the bracket, that in the eighties he had driven home holding the exhaust on with a piece of cord laced through the window, he said everything would be fine, if we got to Dingle he’d get someone to come down for us on Monday. We went into a small shop and two wonderfully helpful women decided a metal coat hanger would work. Off home one went to get three hangers from her wardrobe. The other-half did the dirty work. I stood and hoped. We were saved, and drove off at a snail’s pace towards Dingle.
Dingle on Sunday morning was grim. Rain, sleet, wind and sunshine all within a few hours. We couldn’t complain. This was the first break in the summer heatwave and the farmers were delighted. We spent the day in the pub. Watching hurling and reading books. A proper summer holiday in Ireland.
Dingle on Sunday morning was grim. Rain, sleet, wind and sunshine all within a few hours. We couldn’t complain. This was the first break in the summer heatwave and the farmers were delighted. We spent the day in the pub. Watching hurling and reading books. A proper summer holiday in Ireland.
We finished off our trip to Kerry with a good Sunday dinner and a trad session. I was convinced to do a jig and so, much to the American’s delight, I tried to keep up with the ever-quickening three-piece troupe. On Monday morning we drove the ‘local’s road’ to a very friendly mechanic, who reattached the exhaust and charged us pittance. I regret we didn’t manage to convince his dog we were worth bothering with. Off home to Belfast we went. Having missed the marching for another year. One county down, thirty-one to go. |
Barry McStay - Draíocht, Blanchardstown
Being selected for APFI has been great for me. Writing is such a solitary process at the best of times, getting together every month or so to check in with Fishamble and the other writers at Draíocht, my venue, has been a relief. Getting to sit and chat with people who know EXACTLY what you’re going through, who share the same fears and hopes and more fears and a few more fears, it’s immensely reassuring. |
I suppose it’s a competitive process but it certainly doesn’t feel like it. And exchanging supportive tweets when one of us is bemoaning lack of inspiration, or is convinced the latest draft is bollocks - it feels like there’s a little family of us. Having Fishamble there behind us, with Jim and Gavin’s support and insight, has made it all possible. They’re like the dads we don’t want to disappoint, the teachers we have to make sure we get the work into on time, and the weird likeable uncles who probably aren’t actually uncles but that’s what we’ve always called them who play football in the back garden with us, beat us 11-0 and at the end we realise they’ve taught us a real life lesson somehow.
The whole APFI process has been the right balance of hands-off and hands-on. I wish writing every play I had this little family around me.
The whole APFI process has been the right balance of hands-off and hands-on. I wish writing every play I had this little family around me.
Shannon Yee – Lyric Theatre, Belfast
Now that the summer is over, the time has been flying swiftly by! It feels like only the other day in April when we all met for the first time as the 30 playwrights in Dublin at Fishamble’s offices, and now the December deadline for the Phase One final draft is around the corner! At the April meeting, I remember thinking , ‘’these plays are all so different, and all so interesting—I’d go see all of them!’ I don’t envy the task ahead for the judging team… |
By the end of December our A PLAY FOR IRELAND playwrights will submit full drafts of their plays. In Spring 2019, 6 plays will be shortlisted and optioned by Fishamble, and by Autumn 2019 a final play will be fully commissioned and tour to all 6 participating venues around the island of Ireland.
On Saturday 20 October, we held one of Fishamble's regular A PLAY FOR IRELAND workshops. Designer Niamh Lunny facilitated this workshop with the APFI playwrights at The Everyman, Cork, and has written a short post about what this group worked on together.
The Cork APFI playwrights are Noelle Brown, Lisa Carroll, Karen Cogan, John Doran, Bridgid Galvin, and Margaret McAuliffe.
The Cork APFI playwrights are Noelle Brown, Lisa Carroll, Karen Cogan, John Doran, Bridgid Galvin, and Margaret McAuliffe.
Margaret McAuliffe, Bridgid Galvin, John Doran, and Lisa Carroll at The Everyman, Cork APFI workshop on Set Design.
We had a great day in Cork at our A Play For Ireland workshop!
I explained the day would be a jigsaw of experience and we started by introducing ourselves as if everyone else in the room was blind.... It was a really interesting exercise for them & me!
Then I talked about design, inspiration, collaboration, non-linear process, and more practical elements of designing for stage. I showed lots of images & designs and had examples of where things had worked and where things did not go as planned.
In the second half of the morning I did 2 exercises with postcards - carefully pick one post card to tell a story about in 6 sentences, and then be given one to do the same thing with, then examining the differences between having a choice etc. Then I got them to build their story/script or idea in 3 dimensions (with LEGO!)
The idea is that working in 3 dimensions will trigger ideas that talking and writing will not.
We finished the morning with a look at a methodology called ‘scamper’ and a visualization exercise! In the afternoon we had one to one chats which tended towards being an extension of the work done in the morning.
Niamh Lunny
20 October 2018
I explained the day would be a jigsaw of experience and we started by introducing ourselves as if everyone else in the room was blind.... It was a really interesting exercise for them & me!
Then I talked about design, inspiration, collaboration, non-linear process, and more practical elements of designing for stage. I showed lots of images & designs and had examples of where things had worked and where things did not go as planned.
In the second half of the morning I did 2 exercises with postcards - carefully pick one post card to tell a story about in 6 sentences, and then be given one to do the same thing with, then examining the differences between having a choice etc. Then I got them to build their story/script or idea in 3 dimensions (with LEGO!)
The idea is that working in 3 dimensions will trigger ideas that talking and writing will not.
We finished the morning with a look at a methodology called ‘scamper’ and a visualization exercise! In the afternoon we had one to one chats which tended towards being an extension of the work done in the morning.
Niamh Lunny
20 October 2018
Fishamble's A PLAY FOR IRELAND is supported by
Trasportation partner
Our Work So Far
Fishamble has been busy this year with its major developmental project, A PLAY FOR IRELAND, supported by Tesco Finest, wherein 33 writers have been creating 30 new projects. During the first part of the year, with the help of transportation partner Irish Rail, Fishamble Artistic Director Jim Culleton and Fishamble Literary Manager Gavin Kostick were criss-crossing the country (and Dublin) to our partner venues, Belltable, Draíocht, The Everyman, Lyric, Town Hall and Pavilion. There the writers worked flexibly, according to their own processes.
After a summer break, theatre professionals Director Annabelle Comyn, Designer Maree Kearns, Designer Niamh Lunny, Director Oonagh Murphy and Designer Saileog O'Halloran worked with the writers to offer different alternative insights and possibilities. This helped the writers further develop their plays, through visually sketching ideas and scenes. This work will continue through the autumn, culminating in a series of one-on-one meetings in November in Fishamble so as to support all the writers to produce a full draft of their work by the end of the year.
Fishamble is amazed and delighted by the standard of work so far and looks forward to sharing a selection with audiences in 2019.
After a summer break, theatre professionals Director Annabelle Comyn, Designer Maree Kearns, Designer Niamh Lunny, Director Oonagh Murphy and Designer Saileog O'Halloran worked with the writers to offer different alternative insights and possibilities. This helped the writers further develop their plays, through visually sketching ideas and scenes. This work will continue through the autumn, culminating in a series of one-on-one meetings in November in Fishamble so as to support all the writers to produce a full draft of their work by the end of the year.
Fishamble is amazed and delighted by the standard of work so far and looks forward to sharing a selection with audiences in 2019.
Feedback from APFI Venues
“Lime Tree Theatre and Belltable are delighted to be part of A Play For Ireland. We have been working with Fishamble on making sure the participating playwrights receive a stipend to help cover their costs, as well as providing meeting space as benefit in kind. The process so far has been very rewarding to the playwrights and we are looking forward to continuing to work with Fishamble in the next stages of APFI and to the final production.”
Marketa Dowling, Programme Manager
Belltable, Limerick
“Draíocht is delighted to be working in a developmental way with our colleagues in Fishamble on the A Play For Ireland Project. This two year ambitious project has been supporting writers in a considered way through mentoring and peer support at its core, as well as providing audiences with the opportunity to see a fully produced piece that will reflect and interrogate contemporary Ireland. We welcome the opportunity to work in this way not only with Fishamble but with the 6 writers who are working from Draíocht.”
Emer McGowan, Director
Draíocht, Blanchardstown
This partnership represents a clear fulfilment of The Everyman’s remit under its artistic policies. Fishamble are at the forefront of production and touring of new Irish writing, and have a long association with the Everyman and its audiences, making them an ideal partner in every way. We hope that this partnership would ultimately help the Everyman deliver upon its artistic goals: developing the skills of several aspiring playwrights and offering a major new Irish work to audiences made in collaboration with a number of partners.”
Julie Kelleher, Director
The Everyman, Cork
“A Play For Ireland is an important national programme, which is connecting artists and venues North and South of the Border. The project not only is creating an industry collaboration but it is connecting local artists with their professional theatres and encouraging the citizens of Ireland to express themselves through theatre as well as engaging the public in making plays, and engaging with audiences throughout the Ireland and Northern Ireland.”
Jimmy Fay, Executive Producer
Lyric Theatre, Belfast
“Pavilion Theatre is delighted to be involved with our friends at Fishamble, on their ambitious initiative ‘A Play for Ireland’. ‘A Play for Ireland’ forms part of our continued commitment to support artists and their work and it is a real privilege to be part of this process alongside Fishamble. Having already welcomed five very talented playwrights to work in our Gallery Space throughout 2018, we look forward to witnessing the progression and development of their work which we would hope to programme at a later date.”
Hugh Murray, Director
Pavilion Theatre, Dún Laoghaire
“Fishamble’s A Play for Ireland programme has been a fantastic opportunity for Town Hall Theatre to engage with a focused group of playwrights as they develop their new plays, and we hope to see this group continue to be a part of Galway’s creative community in the future. We are delighted to be part of this island-wide initiative and very much look forward to seeing the outcomes throughout 2019, and beyond!”
Fergal McGrath, Theatre Manager
Town Hall Theatre, Galway
Marketa Dowling, Programme Manager
Belltable, Limerick
“Draíocht is delighted to be working in a developmental way with our colleagues in Fishamble on the A Play For Ireland Project. This two year ambitious project has been supporting writers in a considered way through mentoring and peer support at its core, as well as providing audiences with the opportunity to see a fully produced piece that will reflect and interrogate contemporary Ireland. We welcome the opportunity to work in this way not only with Fishamble but with the 6 writers who are working from Draíocht.”
Emer McGowan, Director
Draíocht, Blanchardstown
This partnership represents a clear fulfilment of The Everyman’s remit under its artistic policies. Fishamble are at the forefront of production and touring of new Irish writing, and have a long association with the Everyman and its audiences, making them an ideal partner in every way. We hope that this partnership would ultimately help the Everyman deliver upon its artistic goals: developing the skills of several aspiring playwrights and offering a major new Irish work to audiences made in collaboration with a number of partners.”
Julie Kelleher, Director
The Everyman, Cork
“A Play For Ireland is an important national programme, which is connecting artists and venues North and South of the Border. The project not only is creating an industry collaboration but it is connecting local artists with their professional theatres and encouraging the citizens of Ireland to express themselves through theatre as well as engaging the public in making plays, and engaging with audiences throughout the Ireland and Northern Ireland.”
Jimmy Fay, Executive Producer
Lyric Theatre, Belfast
“Pavilion Theatre is delighted to be involved with our friends at Fishamble, on their ambitious initiative ‘A Play for Ireland’. ‘A Play for Ireland’ forms part of our continued commitment to support artists and their work and it is a real privilege to be part of this process alongside Fishamble. Having already welcomed five very talented playwrights to work in our Gallery Space throughout 2018, we look forward to witnessing the progression and development of their work which we would hope to programme at a later date.”
Hugh Murray, Director
Pavilion Theatre, Dún Laoghaire
“Fishamble’s A Play for Ireland programme has been a fantastic opportunity for Town Hall Theatre to engage with a focused group of playwrights as they develop their new plays, and we hope to see this group continue to be a part of Galway’s creative community in the future. We are delighted to be part of this island-wide initiative and very much look forward to seeing the outcomes throughout 2019, and beyond!”
Fergal McGrath, Theatre Manager
Town Hall Theatre, Galway
Fishamble's A PLAY FOR IRELAND is supported by
To celebrate 30 years of Fishamble, we are publishing a series of blog posts focusing on the everyday experiences of our staff, colleagues and collaborators. We continue our series with a post by Fishamble's most recent Literary Assistant, Zachary Heygood.
Fishamble Theatre Company produces and develops most of the new works throughout Ireland. The have performed shows across the world in hundreds of venues. They receive hundreds of new paly submissions every year, my primary job here was Literary Assistant. That title made me feel special, not just an intern but the Literary Assistant, so professional. I was in charge of reading, recording and analyzing the new play submissions. I had to believe it’s almost over, where does the time go? I guess as they say, time flies when you’re having fun.
If you would have told me a year ago that I would be doing and helping theatre in Ireland, I wouldn’t have believed you. I remember trying to set up this internship up and thinking I had no idea what I was doing and I was going to mess everything up. Gavin and I talked back and forth over email for a while and tried to establish a time to have a phone conversation, but it was tricky due to the time zone difference. When we finally got a time that worked, it was at 7 am Mountain time so it could be 2 pm Irish time. I ended up waking at 6:45, setting up my laptop and a note book with questions and then called him at 7. We were on the phone for about 15 minutes where he told me I had the internship, then I immediately went back to sleep until 8 to get ready for class. I then had to wait like 4 months before I finally arrived in Ireland.
I was lucky enough to get three days in Dublin before my internship began. We arrived on Saturday the 2nd of June, but I didn’t start until the Tuesday the 5th because the 4th was a Bank Holiday. This allowed me to go into the city and begin to understand it before I had to deal with the hustle and bustle of the daily work rush. The first day was finally upon me, and I had no idea what to expect, but I was there bight eyed and bushy tailed. I knew that I would be reading plays but I wasn’t entire sure what that was going to entail. Let’s just say, the first day was daunting to say the least. I walk in and get shown around and receive a history of Irish theatre, and how Fishamble was established. I remember having a hard time understanding what Gavin was saying due to his accent. Then I am given ten plays that I am supposed to read by Friday in order to get an understanding of the style of plays they are looking for. One of the days, I went to a coffee shop and read plays outside, I felt like such a tourist. When I came in that Friday, we discussed the plays I read and began to go over what exactly I was going to be doing day to day.
Throughout my time here, I read twenty-two plays and wrote reports and letters for each of them. I will say, some plays were better than others. That being said, I read each one to its fullest and gave each their best chance. It was great because I felt so important, I wasn’t just doing small things and meaningless tasks, I was working on a project that needed to get done, and I became clear that Fishamble trusted me and my judgement to read these new plays. My first report was stressful. I tried to copy a previous one that the last intern did. Understandably, Gavin was very vigilant of the first report to make sure I understood what I was supposed to doing. However, as the weeks progressed, I could tell he began to trust my judgement which made me feel accomplished. Out of all the plays I read, there were some great ones, but also a few that I wasn’t a huge fan of. But Gavin could tell immediately after reading my reports my opinions on each of the plays. I guess my tone, even in just reading it, was pretty apparent and hard to hide. Due to the large amount of submission Fishamble gets every year, they can only produce a handful of them. Therefore, after most of the plays I have had to write a letter to each of the playwrights telling them what I like about the play, what, if they were to revise this play, improvement could be made, and that I’m very sorry but Fishamble will not be producing this play. However, one day there was a play that Gavin and I both agreed was intriguing for an Irish audience and the style that Fishamble is looking for. So, we invited him to come in a have a meeting with us to discuss what his intentions for his play. It was a nice change of pace.
During my last two week, I was given the opportunity to help with rehearsals for a play that Fishamble is producing for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August. I spent the first hour or so of my day, working with the actors to memorize their lines. I felt like I was back in a familiar situation in the rehearsal process of a show. Although I have dedicated a year and a half to learn all about each of the elements of theatre it takes to do a show in order to understand the importance of what everyone does and have a better appreciation of them and their work, it felt good to get back to my roots for a bit.
All in all, this whole experience has been better than I could have imagined. The ability to see the process of what it takes to put on a show in the preparation stage. I don’t normally join the team until the rehearsals start or as early as casting, but this is the decision stage. Seeing all the work that goes into a show before anyone even joins the team. Thank you so much for this amazing opportunity, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Zachary Heygood is studying at the University of Colorado.
If you would have told me a year ago that I would be doing and helping theatre in Ireland, I wouldn’t have believed you. I remember trying to set up this internship up and thinking I had no idea what I was doing and I was going to mess everything up. Gavin and I talked back and forth over email for a while and tried to establish a time to have a phone conversation, but it was tricky due to the time zone difference. When we finally got a time that worked, it was at 7 am Mountain time so it could be 2 pm Irish time. I ended up waking at 6:45, setting up my laptop and a note book with questions and then called him at 7. We were on the phone for about 15 minutes where he told me I had the internship, then I immediately went back to sleep until 8 to get ready for class. I then had to wait like 4 months before I finally arrived in Ireland.
I was lucky enough to get three days in Dublin before my internship began. We arrived on Saturday the 2nd of June, but I didn’t start until the Tuesday the 5th because the 4th was a Bank Holiday. This allowed me to go into the city and begin to understand it before I had to deal with the hustle and bustle of the daily work rush. The first day was finally upon me, and I had no idea what to expect, but I was there bight eyed and bushy tailed. I knew that I would be reading plays but I wasn’t entire sure what that was going to entail. Let’s just say, the first day was daunting to say the least. I walk in and get shown around and receive a history of Irish theatre, and how Fishamble was established. I remember having a hard time understanding what Gavin was saying due to his accent. Then I am given ten plays that I am supposed to read by Friday in order to get an understanding of the style of plays they are looking for. One of the days, I went to a coffee shop and read plays outside, I felt like such a tourist. When I came in that Friday, we discussed the plays I read and began to go over what exactly I was going to be doing day to day.
Throughout my time here, I read twenty-two plays and wrote reports and letters for each of them. I will say, some plays were better than others. That being said, I read each one to its fullest and gave each their best chance. It was great because I felt so important, I wasn’t just doing small things and meaningless tasks, I was working on a project that needed to get done, and I became clear that Fishamble trusted me and my judgement to read these new plays. My first report was stressful. I tried to copy a previous one that the last intern did. Understandably, Gavin was very vigilant of the first report to make sure I understood what I was supposed to doing. However, as the weeks progressed, I could tell he began to trust my judgement which made me feel accomplished. Out of all the plays I read, there were some great ones, but also a few that I wasn’t a huge fan of. But Gavin could tell immediately after reading my reports my opinions on each of the plays. I guess my tone, even in just reading it, was pretty apparent and hard to hide. Due to the large amount of submission Fishamble gets every year, they can only produce a handful of them. Therefore, after most of the plays I have had to write a letter to each of the playwrights telling them what I like about the play, what, if they were to revise this play, improvement could be made, and that I’m very sorry but Fishamble will not be producing this play. However, one day there was a play that Gavin and I both agreed was intriguing for an Irish audience and the style that Fishamble is looking for. So, we invited him to come in a have a meeting with us to discuss what his intentions for his play. It was a nice change of pace.
During my last two week, I was given the opportunity to help with rehearsals for a play that Fishamble is producing for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August. I spent the first hour or so of my day, working with the actors to memorize their lines. I felt like I was back in a familiar situation in the rehearsal process of a show. Although I have dedicated a year and a half to learn all about each of the elements of theatre it takes to do a show in order to understand the importance of what everyone does and have a better appreciation of them and their work, it felt good to get back to my roots for a bit.
All in all, this whole experience has been better than I could have imagined. The ability to see the process of what it takes to put on a show in the preparation stage. I don’t normally join the team until the rehearsals start or as early as casting, but this is the decision stage. Seeing all the work that goes into a show before anyone even joins the team. Thank you so much for this amazing opportunity, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Zachary Heygood is studying at the University of Colorado.
Photograph by Chandrika Narayanan-Mohan
On Sunday 24th June 2018, Fishamble and Irish Rail partnered to create a day-long playwriting workshop between Dublin and Bray called #PlaysonaTrain, taking place on train carriages and in Bray itself. 9 playwrights were chosen from a social media competition, and by the end of the day these playwrights had each written a short play based on trains.
Off at the Next Stop by Emmaleene Leahy
ACT 1
Scene 1
Three women sit on a train. Two sisters, Laura and Sarah and a third lady (Mary) with lots of bags and chatter.
MARY:
I watch the soaps. Now I’m not addicted to them. They’re on for half an hour and I watch them. If I miss them, sure I catch up.
Sarah the older sister looks bored and scrolls through her phone.
LAURA:
I love to put my feet up with a good book.
MARY:
God, I’d be asleep by the first line. I’m too tired to read.
LAURA:
I find I’m looking at a screen all day, the last thing I want to see is a screen.
MARY:
Oh, I’m on my feet all day.
Sarah catches Laura’s eye and throws her eyes up to heaven. The train stops (announcement "This train is now stopping at ...). Mary, not expecting it, flustered grabs bags and coat.
MARY:
This is my stop. Nice to see you ladies. I look forward to receiving the wedding invitation.
Mary rushes off the train, almost tripping.
SARAH:
Thank God She’s gone. She doesn’t shut up.
LAURA:
Ah, she’s harmless enough. Just a bit lonely is all. Don’t be mean.
SARAH:
Oh, I know. I’ve been looking forward to a chat with my little sister is all.
LAURA:
I know. I was surprised when you rang me.
SARAH:
We never get to see each other. How have you been keeping? How are you and Tom getting on?
LAURA:
Great. Been busy with the wedding coming up. There’s so much to organize.
SARAH:
Actually, I want to talk to you about Tom. I heard some rumours and I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.
LAURA:
What type of rumours?
She gets out a nail file from her handbag and files a broken nail in an agitated way.
SARAH:
He was seen with someone else.
LAURA:
You were always so jealous of me.
SARAH:
I’m only telling you this because I care about you. I’m trying to save you from humiliation.
LAURA:
You just can’t bear to see anyone else happy.
She puts her nail file back into her bag and slams it down.
SARAH:
Do you really want to marry a cheat?
LAURA:
You were the same when we were younger. You even caused Mam and Dad to split up for a while.
SARAH:
No, I didn’t.
LAURA:
You did anything for attention.
SARAH:
I was sick in hospital.
LAURA:
You starved yourself.
SARAH:
I had anorexia.
LAURA:
I don’t care. I’ve had enough of your bitterness spoiling everything all my life. I never want to see you again.
SARAH:
Ah Laura.
LAURA:
Don’t come near my wedding.
Laura stands up and walks away.
Scene 2
Tom is on the dart, on the phone to Laura.
TOM:
Yea, I’ll be late again tonight. Have to keep the client happy. How else are we going to pay for this wedding?
An announcement chime rings out over the tanoy.
TOM:
Sorry I have to go.
He hangs up quickly. He is jittery, bouncing his knee. He puts his phone in his pocket then takes it out again. He sends a text to Laura. "Sorry boss walked in had to hang up." His phone rings.
TOM:
Hi Sarah.
He listens, nodding.
Yea. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Yea. See you then.
The train stops, doors open a man in a shirt and tie, (Richard) gets on. Tom sees him slouches down, ducks his head, tries to cover his face to avoid eye contact.
Richard walks down the aisle of the Dart and stops when he recognises Tom.
RICHARD:
Tom? Is that you?
Tom looks up, a fake surprised expression on his face and a grin like a grimace.
TOM:
Richard?
RICHARD:
I thought it was you alright.
Richard sits down beside Tom.
I haven’t seen you in ages. Any news? You’ve a wedding coming up?
TOM:
Yeah, Yeah.
RICHARD:
What has you on this train. Didn’t you decide to build on the other side of town? What could you be going to Bray for? I presume that’s where you are going since it’s the only stop left.
Tom blushes and shifts awkwardly in his seat.
TOM:
Ah, eh, um. Just a bit of unfinished business to sort out is all. Nothing interesting.
Scene 3
Laura is on the train, a suitcase beside her, eyes puffy, a crumpled tissue in her hand. She stares vacantly out the window.
Mary gets on, sees Laura.
MARY:
Laura is that you?
Mary sits across from Laura.
What are you doing here on the Dart? You are normally on the train. You must be doing something for the wedding, a fitting or something? How’re you fixed? I’m still waiting for my invitation.
LAURA:
Well, um actually, I’m not sure if it’s actually going to go ahead. It’s postponed.
MARY:
Oh, right? (Pause) And what are you up to now then?
LAURA:
Going to see my sister.
MARY:
That’s nice. And what’s the story with the wedding? Was it too expensive after building the house? Do you need more time to save or something?
LAURA:
No.
MARY:
What was it then?
LAURA:
I found him in bed with my sister.
MARY:
What? No way. Oh my God. Where?
LAURA:
In our bed.
MARY:
In that new house of yours?
Laura nods eyes down.
The one you just built together? It’s like a mansion. I heard you’ve all the mod cons, underfloor heating the lot. I can’t believe he did that he seemed so nice and charming. A proper gentleman.
Mary notices the suitcase.
MARY:
Where are you really going?
LAURA:
To see my sister.
MARY:
After she did that to you?
LAURA:
I’m going to confront her.
MARY:
Are you sure you want to do that?
LAURA:
I’m on the train now, there’s no turning back.
MARY:
What’s the suitcase for?
LAURA:
For after, no point in hanging around. Nothing left for me here.
Emmaleene Leahy is a teacher and writer. She has been successful in various writing competitions and has previously published some of her fiction, poetry and criticism. She has 1st class hons M.A. in Anglo-Irish Lit and drama and 1st class hons in Creative writing for Publication. She has recently discovered a love for screenwriting and was shortlisted by IFB twice in the past year.
She absolutely loved the #Playsonatrain experience, it was a privilege to meet such an amazing group of people and to be creative in such a supportive atmosphere. She was so inspired that she kept writing. There’s a lot more to follow, let’s just say that things get a whole lot more dramatic when Laura turns up to her sister’s house to find Tom there and her sister Sarah who has some news for them both.
Off at the Next Stop by Emmaleene Leahy
ACT 1
Scene 1
Three women sit on a train. Two sisters, Laura and Sarah and a third lady (Mary) with lots of bags and chatter.
MARY:
I watch the soaps. Now I’m not addicted to them. They’re on for half an hour and I watch them. If I miss them, sure I catch up.
Sarah the older sister looks bored and scrolls through her phone.
LAURA:
I love to put my feet up with a good book.
MARY:
God, I’d be asleep by the first line. I’m too tired to read.
LAURA:
I find I’m looking at a screen all day, the last thing I want to see is a screen.
MARY:
Oh, I’m on my feet all day.
Sarah catches Laura’s eye and throws her eyes up to heaven. The train stops (announcement "This train is now stopping at ...). Mary, not expecting it, flustered grabs bags and coat.
MARY:
This is my stop. Nice to see you ladies. I look forward to receiving the wedding invitation.
Mary rushes off the train, almost tripping.
SARAH:
Thank God She’s gone. She doesn’t shut up.
LAURA:
Ah, she’s harmless enough. Just a bit lonely is all. Don’t be mean.
SARAH:
Oh, I know. I’ve been looking forward to a chat with my little sister is all.
LAURA:
I know. I was surprised when you rang me.
SARAH:
We never get to see each other. How have you been keeping? How are you and Tom getting on?
LAURA:
Great. Been busy with the wedding coming up. There’s so much to organize.
SARAH:
Actually, I want to talk to you about Tom. I heard some rumours and I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.
LAURA:
What type of rumours?
She gets out a nail file from her handbag and files a broken nail in an agitated way.
SARAH:
He was seen with someone else.
LAURA:
You were always so jealous of me.
SARAH:
I’m only telling you this because I care about you. I’m trying to save you from humiliation.
LAURA:
You just can’t bear to see anyone else happy.
She puts her nail file back into her bag and slams it down.
SARAH:
Do you really want to marry a cheat?
LAURA:
You were the same when we were younger. You even caused Mam and Dad to split up for a while.
SARAH:
No, I didn’t.
LAURA:
You did anything for attention.
SARAH:
I was sick in hospital.
LAURA:
You starved yourself.
SARAH:
I had anorexia.
LAURA:
I don’t care. I’ve had enough of your bitterness spoiling everything all my life. I never want to see you again.
SARAH:
Ah Laura.
LAURA:
Don’t come near my wedding.
Laura stands up and walks away.
Scene 2
Tom is on the dart, on the phone to Laura.
TOM:
Yea, I’ll be late again tonight. Have to keep the client happy. How else are we going to pay for this wedding?
An announcement chime rings out over the tanoy.
TOM:
Sorry I have to go.
He hangs up quickly. He is jittery, bouncing his knee. He puts his phone in his pocket then takes it out again. He sends a text to Laura. "Sorry boss walked in had to hang up." His phone rings.
TOM:
Hi Sarah.
He listens, nodding.
Yea. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Yea. See you then.
The train stops, doors open a man in a shirt and tie, (Richard) gets on. Tom sees him slouches down, ducks his head, tries to cover his face to avoid eye contact.
Richard walks down the aisle of the Dart and stops when he recognises Tom.
RICHARD:
Tom? Is that you?
Tom looks up, a fake surprised expression on his face and a grin like a grimace.
TOM:
Richard?
RICHARD:
I thought it was you alright.
Richard sits down beside Tom.
I haven’t seen you in ages. Any news? You’ve a wedding coming up?
TOM:
Yeah, Yeah.
RICHARD:
What has you on this train. Didn’t you decide to build on the other side of town? What could you be going to Bray for? I presume that’s where you are going since it’s the only stop left.
Tom blushes and shifts awkwardly in his seat.
TOM:
Ah, eh, um. Just a bit of unfinished business to sort out is all. Nothing interesting.
Scene 3
Laura is on the train, a suitcase beside her, eyes puffy, a crumpled tissue in her hand. She stares vacantly out the window.
Mary gets on, sees Laura.
MARY:
Laura is that you?
Mary sits across from Laura.
What are you doing here on the Dart? You are normally on the train. You must be doing something for the wedding, a fitting or something? How’re you fixed? I’m still waiting for my invitation.
LAURA:
Well, um actually, I’m not sure if it’s actually going to go ahead. It’s postponed.
MARY:
Oh, right? (Pause) And what are you up to now then?
LAURA:
Going to see my sister.
MARY:
That’s nice. And what’s the story with the wedding? Was it too expensive after building the house? Do you need more time to save or something?
LAURA:
No.
MARY:
What was it then?
LAURA:
I found him in bed with my sister.
MARY:
What? No way. Oh my God. Where?
LAURA:
In our bed.
MARY:
In that new house of yours?
Laura nods eyes down.
The one you just built together? It’s like a mansion. I heard you’ve all the mod cons, underfloor heating the lot. I can’t believe he did that he seemed so nice and charming. A proper gentleman.
Mary notices the suitcase.
MARY:
Where are you really going?
LAURA:
To see my sister.
MARY:
After she did that to you?
LAURA:
I’m going to confront her.
MARY:
Are you sure you want to do that?
LAURA:
I’m on the train now, there’s no turning back.
MARY:
What’s the suitcase for?
LAURA:
For after, no point in hanging around. Nothing left for me here.
Emmaleene Leahy is a teacher and writer. She has been successful in various writing competitions and has previously published some of her fiction, poetry and criticism. She has 1st class hons M.A. in Anglo-Irish Lit and drama and 1st class hons in Creative writing for Publication. She has recently discovered a love for screenwriting and was shortlisted by IFB twice in the past year.
She absolutely loved the #Playsonatrain experience, it was a privilege to meet such an amazing group of people and to be creative in such a supportive atmosphere. She was so inspired that she kept writing. There’s a lot more to follow, let’s just say that things get a whole lot more dramatic when Laura turns up to her sister’s house to find Tom there and her sister Sarah who has some news for them both.
Photograph by Chandrika Narayanan-Mohan
On Sunday 24th June 2018, Fishamble and Irish Rail partnered to create a day-long playwriting workshop between Dublin and Bray called #PlaysonaTrain, taking place on train carriages and in Bray itself. 9 playwrights were chosen from a social media competition, and by the end of the day these playwrights had each written a short play based on trains.
The Brood by Kate O'Connor
Characters:
Aoife - the bride-to-be
Sinéad - the bridesmaid
Louise - a friend
They all speak in Munster accents.
Setting: the train departing Connolly, Aoife is adjusting her ‘bride-to-be’ crown while looking in a pocket mirror, Sinéad is busying herself with a bottle of Prosecco and a handful of plastic wine glasses, finally Louise comes rushing into the carriage, backpack on one shoulder, completely out of breath.
Louise: Jesus, sorry I’m late; the 49 took forever this morning.
Sinéad: We thought you were ghosting us Lou!
Aoife: Ah, would ya stop. You’re grand Louise, sure you’re here now. We’ve had fierce drama already, didn’t Eddie’s Mam do a shot of Sambuca on the Luas on the way in, and now she’s hanging off the loo!
Louise: Jesus, it’s a bit early for that isn’t it? And …. Well… like, she’s a bit over the hill for that kind of carry on, isn’t she?
Sinéad: oooh, ageist now are we?
Aoife: It’s her first hen, Eddie’s Dad told her that’s what him and the lads did on the stag and she thought we’d be the same.
Sinéad: Ah no, we’re ladies (stands up and gestures around the carriage). The aim of the game girls is ENDURANCE. The running order is: Bubbly, food, drinks, nap, don the rig outs, then a fine big dinner, and sure that’ll have us set up so we’ve a good run at the night.
(She does a little dance)
Aoife, it’s gonna be a mad one (cheers)
Aoife: (laughing) My last night as a single pringle. Are you ready, Lou Lou?
Louise: (grabbing a bottle of Prosecco and taking a swig) Yeah, bring it on!
Aoife: Wooh, we’re gonna find Louise a fine strap of a man, tonight. Road frontage and everything.
Louise: (face dropping and muttering under her breath) uh, for fuck sake. (Then, out loud) Ah it’s your night Aoife, it’s all about you. (Starts to sing out of tune) It’s all about you, it’s all about you baby.
Sinéad joins in and they sing a bar and then fade away as neither of them know the words.
A voice comes over the intercom announcing the departure of the train to Galway and listing all the stops. The girls busy themselves in their seats, putting coats on racks, and placing rubbish in the bin, readying themselves for the journey. Louise unzips her top to reveal a t-shirt with a picture of Aoife on the front, and the caption ‘Aoife’s Hen’.
Sinéad: Ah great, you got the t-shirt then.
Louise: Yeah, it’s a fab picture of you Aoife (she turns around to reveal a picture of a man on the back with the words ‘She gives great H-Eddie’).
Aoife: Thanks pet, it’s from our first holiday so it’s really sentimental.
The girls are all sitting now, with Sinéad and Aoife facing Louise.
Aoife: Oh Lou, are you bringing a plus one to the wedding?
Louise: No, all’s quiet on the homestead just now, and I’d rather just focus on having a fun day with ye anyway (she awkwardly adjusts her hair).
Sinéad: Y’know one of the girls in work signed up for Bumble, and she’s been on three dates with this lad from Bray, and she said he’s great. Like, he’s not a weirdo or anything.
Aoife: That sounds great, you should give that a try Lou.
Louise: Yeah (pauses) yeah, maybe.
Sinéad: What happened with that Darren lad from work? I thought you two were getting along really well.
Aoife: Eh, yeah - didn’t you guys score?
Sinéad’s jaw drops as she turns to look at Louise. Louise looks away and then back again.
Sinéad: Like, proper score?
Louise: Yeah, it was a stupid thing to do. We were just really drunk on a Friday night a few weeks back.
Aoife: Has he texted you since?
Louise: No but (pauses) but Sharon from Procurement mentioned the other day that (pauses) well, apparently he’s fucking engaged.
Aoife: NO FUCKING WAY. Jeeze, if he was a dog he’d be put down, that one.
Sinéad: And did you know he had a girlfriend?
Louise: Of course I didn’t. I wouldn’t of touched him if .. (she trails off and stares out the window).
Aoife: He’s a right wanker Lou. I’m sorry, but you have to get back up on the horse, plenty more fish and all that.
Louise: (sarcastically) Yeah, I’m sure there’s plenty more married men for me to fool around with.
Aoife: And what’s that supposed to mean?
Louise puts her face in her palms. Sinéad picks up her phone and pretends to be completely absorbed in it.
Louise: Sorry Aoife, I didn’t mean anything by that.
Aoife: I dunno why I ever told ye about that. It’s not that big a deal, it was just that one time and I was being a right mare around then, moaning about work all the time. Me and Eddie have put all that behind us now. I just wish everyone else would do the same.
Sinéad: (puts her phone down) Of course Aoife love, and sure you know him better than anyone.
Aoife: Like, every couple have their fights, you have to just ride the storm. That’s what being in a proper relationship is all about Louise.
Louise: (Now indignant) Ah here Aoife just cos I won’t put up with some lad being a dirty dog, doesn’t make me incapable of being in a relationship.
Aoife: Fuck off with your ‘hashtag me too’ shite. This is what love really is, it’s not all avocado and eggs on a Saturday morning (pause) ah, I don’t know why I’d expect you to understand.
Louise looks hurt, Aoife turns her head away.
Sinéad: (gently) Girls, let’s not ruin a great weekend with stupid talk about lads. Mates before dates, remember.
Aoife: Well, I didn’t start it.
Sinéad looks at Louise, gesturing to her to talk to Aoife.
Louise relents.
Louise: Sorry Aoif’- sure you know I’m mad about you and Eddie. Ye belong together.
Sinéad: Yeah, like Brennan’s bread and cheese and onion Tayto’s.
Aoife: Or, like Harry and Meghan.
Louise raises a glass of Prosecco.
Louise: To the royal wedding of Aoife and Eddie.
Aoife: (raises her own glass) To finding Lou Lou a man.
---
Originally from Limerick, Kate lives in Dublin and works in digital content management by day to pay for many, many trips to the theatre at night.
The Brood by Kate O'Connor
Characters:
Aoife - the bride-to-be
Sinéad - the bridesmaid
Louise - a friend
They all speak in Munster accents.
Setting: the train departing Connolly, Aoife is adjusting her ‘bride-to-be’ crown while looking in a pocket mirror, Sinéad is busying herself with a bottle of Prosecco and a handful of plastic wine glasses, finally Louise comes rushing into the carriage, backpack on one shoulder, completely out of breath.
Louise: Jesus, sorry I’m late; the 49 took forever this morning.
Sinéad: We thought you were ghosting us Lou!
Aoife: Ah, would ya stop. You’re grand Louise, sure you’re here now. We’ve had fierce drama already, didn’t Eddie’s Mam do a shot of Sambuca on the Luas on the way in, and now she’s hanging off the loo!
Louise: Jesus, it’s a bit early for that isn’t it? And …. Well… like, she’s a bit over the hill for that kind of carry on, isn’t she?
Sinéad: oooh, ageist now are we?
Aoife: It’s her first hen, Eddie’s Dad told her that’s what him and the lads did on the stag and she thought we’d be the same.
Sinéad: Ah no, we’re ladies (stands up and gestures around the carriage). The aim of the game girls is ENDURANCE. The running order is: Bubbly, food, drinks, nap, don the rig outs, then a fine big dinner, and sure that’ll have us set up so we’ve a good run at the night.
(She does a little dance)
Aoife, it’s gonna be a mad one (cheers)
Aoife: (laughing) My last night as a single pringle. Are you ready, Lou Lou?
Louise: (grabbing a bottle of Prosecco and taking a swig) Yeah, bring it on!
Aoife: Wooh, we’re gonna find Louise a fine strap of a man, tonight. Road frontage and everything.
Louise: (face dropping and muttering under her breath) uh, for fuck sake. (Then, out loud) Ah it’s your night Aoife, it’s all about you. (Starts to sing out of tune) It’s all about you, it’s all about you baby.
Sinéad joins in and they sing a bar and then fade away as neither of them know the words.
A voice comes over the intercom announcing the departure of the train to Galway and listing all the stops. The girls busy themselves in their seats, putting coats on racks, and placing rubbish in the bin, readying themselves for the journey. Louise unzips her top to reveal a t-shirt with a picture of Aoife on the front, and the caption ‘Aoife’s Hen’.
Sinéad: Ah great, you got the t-shirt then.
Louise: Yeah, it’s a fab picture of you Aoife (she turns around to reveal a picture of a man on the back with the words ‘She gives great H-Eddie’).
Aoife: Thanks pet, it’s from our first holiday so it’s really sentimental.
The girls are all sitting now, with Sinéad and Aoife facing Louise.
Aoife: Oh Lou, are you bringing a plus one to the wedding?
Louise: No, all’s quiet on the homestead just now, and I’d rather just focus on having a fun day with ye anyway (she awkwardly adjusts her hair).
Sinéad: Y’know one of the girls in work signed up for Bumble, and she’s been on three dates with this lad from Bray, and she said he’s great. Like, he’s not a weirdo or anything.
Aoife: That sounds great, you should give that a try Lou.
Louise: Yeah (pauses) yeah, maybe.
Sinéad: What happened with that Darren lad from work? I thought you two were getting along really well.
Aoife: Eh, yeah - didn’t you guys score?
Sinéad’s jaw drops as she turns to look at Louise. Louise looks away and then back again.
Sinéad: Like, proper score?
Louise: Yeah, it was a stupid thing to do. We were just really drunk on a Friday night a few weeks back.
Aoife: Has he texted you since?
Louise: No but (pauses) but Sharon from Procurement mentioned the other day that (pauses) well, apparently he’s fucking engaged.
Aoife: NO FUCKING WAY. Jeeze, if he was a dog he’d be put down, that one.
Sinéad: And did you know he had a girlfriend?
Louise: Of course I didn’t. I wouldn’t of touched him if .. (she trails off and stares out the window).
Aoife: He’s a right wanker Lou. I’m sorry, but you have to get back up on the horse, plenty more fish and all that.
Louise: (sarcastically) Yeah, I’m sure there’s plenty more married men for me to fool around with.
Aoife: And what’s that supposed to mean?
Louise puts her face in her palms. Sinéad picks up her phone and pretends to be completely absorbed in it.
Louise: Sorry Aoife, I didn’t mean anything by that.
Aoife: I dunno why I ever told ye about that. It’s not that big a deal, it was just that one time and I was being a right mare around then, moaning about work all the time. Me and Eddie have put all that behind us now. I just wish everyone else would do the same.
Sinéad: (puts her phone down) Of course Aoife love, and sure you know him better than anyone.
Aoife: Like, every couple have their fights, you have to just ride the storm. That’s what being in a proper relationship is all about Louise.
Louise: (Now indignant) Ah here Aoife just cos I won’t put up with some lad being a dirty dog, doesn’t make me incapable of being in a relationship.
Aoife: Fuck off with your ‘hashtag me too’ shite. This is what love really is, it’s not all avocado and eggs on a Saturday morning (pause) ah, I don’t know why I’d expect you to understand.
Louise looks hurt, Aoife turns her head away.
Sinéad: (gently) Girls, let’s not ruin a great weekend with stupid talk about lads. Mates before dates, remember.
Aoife: Well, I didn’t start it.
Sinéad looks at Louise, gesturing to her to talk to Aoife.
Louise relents.
Louise: Sorry Aoif’- sure you know I’m mad about you and Eddie. Ye belong together.
Sinéad: Yeah, like Brennan’s bread and cheese and onion Tayto’s.
Aoife: Or, like Harry and Meghan.
Louise raises a glass of Prosecco.
Louise: To the royal wedding of Aoife and Eddie.
Aoife: (raises her own glass) To finding Lou Lou a man.
---
Originally from Limerick, Kate lives in Dublin and works in digital content management by day to pay for many, many trips to the theatre at night.
Photograph by Chandrika Narayanan-Mohan
On Sunday 24th June 2018, Fishamble and Irish Rail partnered to create a day-long playwriting workshop between Dublin and Bray called #PlaysonaTrain, taking place on train carriages and in Bray itself. 9 playwrights were chosen from a social media competition, and by the end of the day these playwrights had each written a short play based on trains.
Train of Thought by Kevin Johnston
The carriage of a train. It’s a warm, sunny, Summer’s day. ADAM and BEN, dressed for the weather, sit beside each other, a small rucksack on Adam’s lap, and an empty bottle of water in Ben’s hand.
BEN
Here, d’ya have any more water in your bag there? I’m all out.
ADAM
Sure, hang on.
Adam rummages through his bag.
ADAM
Oh shit, yeah.
He takes out a bottle of water and hands it to Ben, who takes a big gulp from it whilst Adam continues to rummage through the bag, taking out a small brown paper bag, which he presents to a confused Ben.
ADAM
Here, I nearly forgot I got you these.
Ben opens the bag to reveal a deck of cards. He takes them out and immediately starts shuffling them.
BEN
Aww, nice one!
ADAM
They’re fresh from Paris (He ironically pronounces it Par-ray). So don’t say I didn’t get you any nice presents.
BEN
Whilst shuffling the deck
Thanks man. Here, think of a card, any card.
ADAM
And I figured I owe you a new set after ruining your other one from my leaving do.
BEN
Ah right of course! Jeez that was some night wasn’t it?
ADAM
Yeah, couldn’t have thought of a better way to say goodbye though.
The train stops to allow passengers get on and off. Among the passengers who enter the train is a WOMAN of similar age to the boys.
BEN
[fingering through the cards in his hand]
Okay, and look at me.
ADAM
How do they measure up to the old set set from the party?
BEN
[Whilst shuffling the deck]
Haven’t broke them in properly yet, but they shuffle well – and that’s always a good sign.
ADAM
Well, they did a good job of making my money disappear – so there’s always that.
Ben glares at Adam, who smirks in reply.
BEN
[removes card from the deck]
Is this your card?
ADAM
No.
BEN
[performs a “snap change” trick, changing the card to the Queen of Diamonds]
You sure?
ADAM
Geez Ben you’re way better than when I last saw you.
BEN
Well a lot has changed since we last saw each other. Speaking of which, I don’t even remember you leaving that party.
ADAM
That’s because Kate took me back to hers. Well, Sarah’s place technically – because she was holding her up for the night.
BEN
And yiz didn’t, y’know... [Clicks tongue], did yiz?
ADAM
No, we cuddled Disney movies all night. We both figured that’d be a nice way to cap a year’s worth of will-we, wont-we sexy texting.
BEN
Yeah but in Sarah’s gaff though?
ADAM
Listen, when a woman as sexy as Kate asks you to do shit as freaky as that, you’d drop your pants right now and do it here on the train.
Ben looks uncomfortable, and silently reshuffles his deck for a while.
BEN
So now that you’re back, do you think yiz might get it on full time?
ADAM
Doubtful. I snuck out early the next morning because well, you know what Sarah’s ma is like. And then I left two days later. Haven’t talked since.
BEN
That’s a shame.
The train lurches forward. Ben drops the deck. The WOMAN comes over to help tidy his mess. She hands over a handful of cards to Ben, but her smile drops upon making eye contact with the boys. She drops the cards on Ben’s lap and quickly moves to another side of the carriage.
ADAM
What’s her problem?
BEN
Ah it’s probably the heat – sure isn’t it everyone’s problem at this rate?
Adam sighs. The train stops.
ADAM
Oh shit this is me. Talk t’ya man.
They hug.
BEN
Yeah, yeah, bye.
Adam gets off the train as Ben looks uneasily towards the Woman. He absent-mindedly shuffles the deck and bites his lip, deep in thought. After a while, he gets up and walks over to her.
BEN
Hey, I just wanted to- Kate?
The WOMAN, now KATE, looks up at Ben, but upon recognising him her expression drops and she sighs.
KATE
Hello, Ben.
BEN
So it is you, I love the new hair. I just wanted to say if I upset you back there, I’m sorry.
KATE
You didn’t upset me.
BEN
Are you sure, because you looked pretty steamed.
KATE
Yes, it’s just – I didn’t know he – no, never mind.
The train stops.
BEN
No seriously, what’s wrong? Is it something to do with Adam?
KATE
Just leave me alone, okay?.
She puts in her earphones and leaves the train. Ben looks on at her, concerned. He stands for a while in pensive silence as the train moves forward again. Eventually, he takes out his phone, and punches in a number.
BEN
Hi, Sarah?... It’s Ben... Yeah, yeah I’m not too bad... Listen, I was wondering if we could meet up for a chat soon?... Can we not do any sooner? I’m not sure if this can afford to wait... It’s about Adam’s leaving do last November... Yeah, tomorrow suits.
Lights fade down as Ben confirms details down the phone.
END.
Kevin is from Clondalkin, Dublin and has a great interest in both English-language and Irish-language theatre, in particular writing, performing and directing. He also has an interest in prose writing. His most recent play, Delayed, was performed by Acting Out Theatre Group as part of their Christmas Short Play Festival in 2017. He really enjoyed the company and supportive atmosphere of the Plays on a Train workshop, and would highly recommend the experience to others.
The carriage of a train. It’s a warm, sunny, Summer’s day. ADAM and BEN, dressed for the weather, sit beside each other, a small rucksack on Adam’s lap, and an empty bottle of water in Ben’s hand.
BEN
Here, d’ya have any more water in your bag there? I’m all out.
ADAM
Sure, hang on.
Adam rummages through his bag.
ADAM
Oh shit, yeah.
He takes out a bottle of water and hands it to Ben, who takes a big gulp from it whilst Adam continues to rummage through the bag, taking out a small brown paper bag, which he presents to a confused Ben.
ADAM
Here, I nearly forgot I got you these.
Ben opens the bag to reveal a deck of cards. He takes them out and immediately starts shuffling them.
BEN
Aww, nice one!
ADAM
They’re fresh from Paris (He ironically pronounces it Par-ray). So don’t say I didn’t get you any nice presents.
BEN
Whilst shuffling the deck
Thanks man. Here, think of a card, any card.
ADAM
And I figured I owe you a new set after ruining your other one from my leaving do.
BEN
Ah right of course! Jeez that was some night wasn’t it?
ADAM
Yeah, couldn’t have thought of a better way to say goodbye though.
The train stops to allow passengers get on and off. Among the passengers who enter the train is a WOMAN of similar age to the boys.
BEN
[fingering through the cards in his hand]
Okay, and look at me.
ADAM
How do they measure up to the old set set from the party?
BEN
[Whilst shuffling the deck]
Haven’t broke them in properly yet, but they shuffle well – and that’s always a good sign.
ADAM
Well, they did a good job of making my money disappear – so there’s always that.
Ben glares at Adam, who smirks in reply.
BEN
[removes card from the deck]
Is this your card?
ADAM
No.
BEN
[performs a “snap change” trick, changing the card to the Queen of Diamonds]
You sure?
ADAM
Geez Ben you’re way better than when I last saw you.
BEN
Well a lot has changed since we last saw each other. Speaking of which, I don’t even remember you leaving that party.
ADAM
That’s because Kate took me back to hers. Well, Sarah’s place technically – because she was holding her up for the night.
BEN
And yiz didn’t, y’know... [Clicks tongue], did yiz?
ADAM
No, we cuddled Disney movies all night. We both figured that’d be a nice way to cap a year’s worth of will-we, wont-we sexy texting.
BEN
Yeah but in Sarah’s gaff though?
ADAM
Listen, when a woman as sexy as Kate asks you to do shit as freaky as that, you’d drop your pants right now and do it here on the train.
Ben looks uncomfortable, and silently reshuffles his deck for a while.
BEN
So now that you’re back, do you think yiz might get it on full time?
ADAM
Doubtful. I snuck out early the next morning because well, you know what Sarah’s ma is like. And then I left two days later. Haven’t talked since.
BEN
That’s a shame.
The train lurches forward. Ben drops the deck. The WOMAN comes over to help tidy his mess. She hands over a handful of cards to Ben, but her smile drops upon making eye contact with the boys. She drops the cards on Ben’s lap and quickly moves to another side of the carriage.
ADAM
What’s her problem?
BEN
Ah it’s probably the heat – sure isn’t it everyone’s problem at this rate?
Adam sighs. The train stops.
ADAM
Oh shit this is me. Talk t’ya man.
They hug.
BEN
Yeah, yeah, bye.
Adam gets off the train as Ben looks uneasily towards the Woman. He absent-mindedly shuffles the deck and bites his lip, deep in thought. After a while, he gets up and walks over to her.
BEN
Hey, I just wanted to- Kate?
The WOMAN, now KATE, looks up at Ben, but upon recognising him her expression drops and she sighs.
KATE
Hello, Ben.
BEN
So it is you, I love the new hair. I just wanted to say if I upset you back there, I’m sorry.
KATE
You didn’t upset me.
BEN
Are you sure, because you looked pretty steamed.
KATE
Yes, it’s just – I didn’t know he – no, never mind.
The train stops.
BEN
No seriously, what’s wrong? Is it something to do with Adam?
KATE
Just leave me alone, okay?.
She puts in her earphones and leaves the train. Ben looks on at her, concerned. He stands for a while in pensive silence as the train moves forward again. Eventually, he takes out his phone, and punches in a number.
BEN
Hi, Sarah?... It’s Ben... Yeah, yeah I’m not too bad... Listen, I was wondering if we could meet up for a chat soon?... Can we not do any sooner? I’m not sure if this can afford to wait... It’s about Adam’s leaving do last November... Yeah, tomorrow suits.
Lights fade down as Ben confirms details down the phone.
END.
Kevin is from Clondalkin, Dublin and has a great interest in both English-language and Irish-language theatre, in particular writing, performing and directing. He also has an interest in prose writing. His most recent play, Delayed, was performed by Acting Out Theatre Group as part of their Christmas Short Play Festival in 2017. He really enjoyed the company and supportive atmosphere of the Plays on a Train workshop, and would highly recommend the experience to others.
Photograph by Chandrika Narayanan-Mohan
On Sunday 24th June 2018, Fishamble and Irish Rail partnered to create a day-long playwriting workshop between Dublin and Bray called #PlaysonaTrain, taking place on train carriages and in Bray itself. 9 playwrights were chosen from a social media competition, and by the end of the day these playwrights had each written a short play based on trains.
Strangers on a Dart by Maureen Penrose
Bea sits on the Bray train, staring out the window. Leo gets on and sits opposite.
Both are in and around their sixties. Bea has three or four bags with her. Leo carries the morning paper.
Bea: (sings)
Bray trains, Bray trains
Going so fast
Bray trains, Bray trains
Going so fast
Leo: What’s that yer singing?
Bea: It’s a real old song. Me Ma used to sing it when I was a kid. I never heard who sang it?
Leo: Jeez, ye have me there. Never knew there was a song about the Bray train. Good to know. I must google it and learn it. I like a good Irish song.
Bea: Any good song’ll do me. I don’t care what nationality they are.
Bea looks back out the window. Leo looks at the front page.
Leo: What do ye think of yer man coming to Ireland? Pope Francis? Do ye think ye’ll go to see him? There’s not so much excitement this time, is there? Anyway, they say ye shouldn’t discuss religion or politics.
Opens his Daily Mail and takes out his pen to do the crossword. Silence for half a minute.
Bea: Well it won’t suit me to have him coming. No offence to the man, but my hotel will be putting me out to make way for “real” guests. I don’t know where I’ll be staying. I’m sick of moving around and not knowing where I’ll be tomorrow night. I’m too bleedin’ old for this. Ye can tell your Pope I won’t be on his welcoming committee………..Mind you……….I remember when Pope John Paul came. I went up to the Phoenix Park to see him. Me and me Ma had little Pope stools, so we could sit down. It was a great day. My cousin was selling tea and sandwiches. She made a fortune.
Leo: (nostalgic smile) Ah now! I was there too. I think the whole of Dublin was there. That was a great celebration. Like Italia 90! Great times. Jeez, we were a different country back then. A more innocent country. We didn’t know about Bishop Casey, or Father Michael Cleary. And they were just seeing women. Worse was to come. A lot of very sick priests and a very sick church. “God” bless our innocence. Rotten to the core! Yes, and not one black face in the Phoenix Park. We were a poor country and nobody wanted to immigrate.
Bea: We had houses. It was a poor country, but the County Council was building houses. Blanchardstown, Clondalkin, Tallaght. Thousands of houses. I had a house in Blanch. I had it lovely. Never done cleaning, polishing and washing. Ha! My fella used to be afraid to put his butt in the ashtray! I think I had OCD. I got rid of the OCD when I went on the Prozac. Mother’s little helper. Do ye remember that song? The Beatles sang it. Back in the 60’s. The swinging 60’s. I was told the 60’s were great, but my 60’s are not great. They are shite!
Leo: I’ll be 60 next month. I’m looking forward to my 60’s, retiring and taking it easy. Are ye not living in Blanchardstown anymore? Did you say you live in a hotel? Sounds like the lap of luxury. I might win the Lotto and retire to the Shelbourne, or the Gresham.
Bea: Do ye know nothing?
Do ye know nothing?
Do ye know nothing?
Leo: (hands raised in surrender) Okay! Okay! Okay! Tell me, and then I’ll know…
Bea: Ye don’t want to know. Nobody wants to know. Do ye not read the papers? Put your nose back in your crossword there. Leave me alone. I’m sick of ye!
Leo puts the head down and focuses on his crossword.
Leo thinks: Mind your own business Leo. That’s what the missus always says: Mind your own business Leo.
Leo: (mutters) GEGS (9,4) What’s that? 9 letters and four letters? What sort of a clue is that?
Bea: My bastard of a husband used to pulverise me. It’s how he kept fit. None of yer gyms for my Tony. Oh no! I was his sparring partner. I was his punchbag. I had to run for me life, after thirty years. I knew it was my time to die. He was getting worse and worse, the more lines of white he shovelled up his nose. I got to live in hotels, after I left the refuge. He got my lovely house. Oh, I took him to court, but the Judge wasn’t impressed that I was taking Prozac. Tony made me out to be mad. The Judge thought I was of unsound mind, I think. Maybe I am? I am the result of an unsound life.
Ha ha! Did ye ever hear this one? Who’s the nicest guy in the hospital?
Leo: I don’t know. Who is this paragon?
Bea: The Ultrasound guy! Get it? The ultra-sound guy? Ha ha!
Bea giggles, maybe a little manic
Leo thinks: Don’t ask about her children
Bea: I’m a granny, and a great granny. Would you believe that? I do drop out to see the family, but I wont live with any of them. I’m not putting that on them, no matter what they say. Anyway, they don’t like the way I sing all the time, in public or in private. Does that mean I am of unsound mind? It can’t really, can it? I hear the sound of music in my mind. I have a surround sound mind. Everything reminds me of a song. I’m sitting here and thinking of TRAIN songs. Can you think of any? What’s your name anyway? (holds out her hand to shake) I’m Bea. Queen Bea that was ha ha!
Leo: I’m Leo. Very pleased to make your acquaintance.
Bea: Folsom prison blues, (sings) I hear that train a-coming, rolling round the bend….
(sings) Pardon me miss, is this the Chattanooga Choo Choo
Gospel songs do ye like them? I love black peoples gospel songs. They sound right to people who have been sad. (sings) This train is bound for glory, this train….
And yer man Chris De Burgh: Do ye remember The Spanish Train? I used to have that LP. It was brilliant! Probably worth a few bob now, that old LP.
Leo: The Monkees. The Last Train to Clarksville
Bea: Yeah! Brilliant! Did you watch the Monkees on telly? Peter Tork was my favourite. All me friends loved Davy Jones. But I liked Peter Tork. The quiet one. My ex looked a bit like Peter Tork. Blond, blue eyed, lanky, shy looking. See where that got me! Stupid girl that I was! They were right. It’s the quiet ones ye have to watch. So now I’m homeless and anxious and living inside my sound-ful mind ha ha! Off to Bray to smell the sea. To see something beautiful. At least I have my bus pass. I love my bus pass. I can get on the train and go anywhere. I can step out of my life and be someone else, somewhere else, for a few hours.
Leo: I was a Blondie fan. She was beautiful. I am a lucky man. I get to live in Bray, beside the sea. I’m glad to meet your good self and have a nice chat. That’s the thing about the train. If you’re not stuck into your mobile phone, you get to meet people. Good people. People with stories to share.
Bea: You look a little bit like Peter Tork. Did anybody ever tell you that?
END.
Maureen Penrose lives in Blanchardstown and is a community activist and great-grandmother. She loves drama and the arts. They can help change the world! The world needs some tweaking....
Strangers on a Dart by Maureen Penrose
Bea sits on the Bray train, staring out the window. Leo gets on and sits opposite.
Both are in and around their sixties. Bea has three or four bags with her. Leo carries the morning paper.
Bea: (sings)
Bray trains, Bray trains
Going so fast
Bray trains, Bray trains
Going so fast
Leo: What’s that yer singing?
Bea: It’s a real old song. Me Ma used to sing it when I was a kid. I never heard who sang it?
Leo: Jeez, ye have me there. Never knew there was a song about the Bray train. Good to know. I must google it and learn it. I like a good Irish song.
Bea: Any good song’ll do me. I don’t care what nationality they are.
Bea looks back out the window. Leo looks at the front page.
Leo: What do ye think of yer man coming to Ireland? Pope Francis? Do ye think ye’ll go to see him? There’s not so much excitement this time, is there? Anyway, they say ye shouldn’t discuss religion or politics.
Opens his Daily Mail and takes out his pen to do the crossword. Silence for half a minute.
Bea: Well it won’t suit me to have him coming. No offence to the man, but my hotel will be putting me out to make way for “real” guests. I don’t know where I’ll be staying. I’m sick of moving around and not knowing where I’ll be tomorrow night. I’m too bleedin’ old for this. Ye can tell your Pope I won’t be on his welcoming committee………..Mind you……….I remember when Pope John Paul came. I went up to the Phoenix Park to see him. Me and me Ma had little Pope stools, so we could sit down. It was a great day. My cousin was selling tea and sandwiches. She made a fortune.
Leo: (nostalgic smile) Ah now! I was there too. I think the whole of Dublin was there. That was a great celebration. Like Italia 90! Great times. Jeez, we were a different country back then. A more innocent country. We didn’t know about Bishop Casey, or Father Michael Cleary. And they were just seeing women. Worse was to come. A lot of very sick priests and a very sick church. “God” bless our innocence. Rotten to the core! Yes, and not one black face in the Phoenix Park. We were a poor country and nobody wanted to immigrate.
Bea: We had houses. It was a poor country, but the County Council was building houses. Blanchardstown, Clondalkin, Tallaght. Thousands of houses. I had a house in Blanch. I had it lovely. Never done cleaning, polishing and washing. Ha! My fella used to be afraid to put his butt in the ashtray! I think I had OCD. I got rid of the OCD when I went on the Prozac. Mother’s little helper. Do ye remember that song? The Beatles sang it. Back in the 60’s. The swinging 60’s. I was told the 60’s were great, but my 60’s are not great. They are shite!
Leo: I’ll be 60 next month. I’m looking forward to my 60’s, retiring and taking it easy. Are ye not living in Blanchardstown anymore? Did you say you live in a hotel? Sounds like the lap of luxury. I might win the Lotto and retire to the Shelbourne, or the Gresham.
Bea: Do ye know nothing?
Do ye know nothing?
Do ye know nothing?
Leo: (hands raised in surrender) Okay! Okay! Okay! Tell me, and then I’ll know…
Bea: Ye don’t want to know. Nobody wants to know. Do ye not read the papers? Put your nose back in your crossword there. Leave me alone. I’m sick of ye!
Leo puts the head down and focuses on his crossword.
Leo thinks: Mind your own business Leo. That’s what the missus always says: Mind your own business Leo.
Leo: (mutters) GEGS (9,4) What’s that? 9 letters and four letters? What sort of a clue is that?
Bea: My bastard of a husband used to pulverise me. It’s how he kept fit. None of yer gyms for my Tony. Oh no! I was his sparring partner. I was his punchbag. I had to run for me life, after thirty years. I knew it was my time to die. He was getting worse and worse, the more lines of white he shovelled up his nose. I got to live in hotels, after I left the refuge. He got my lovely house. Oh, I took him to court, but the Judge wasn’t impressed that I was taking Prozac. Tony made me out to be mad. The Judge thought I was of unsound mind, I think. Maybe I am? I am the result of an unsound life.
Ha ha! Did ye ever hear this one? Who’s the nicest guy in the hospital?
Leo: I don’t know. Who is this paragon?
Bea: The Ultrasound guy! Get it? The ultra-sound guy? Ha ha!
Bea giggles, maybe a little manic
Leo thinks: Don’t ask about her children
Bea: I’m a granny, and a great granny. Would you believe that? I do drop out to see the family, but I wont live with any of them. I’m not putting that on them, no matter what they say. Anyway, they don’t like the way I sing all the time, in public or in private. Does that mean I am of unsound mind? It can’t really, can it? I hear the sound of music in my mind. I have a surround sound mind. Everything reminds me of a song. I’m sitting here and thinking of TRAIN songs. Can you think of any? What’s your name anyway? (holds out her hand to shake) I’m Bea. Queen Bea that was ha ha!
Leo: I’m Leo. Very pleased to make your acquaintance.
Bea: Folsom prison blues, (sings) I hear that train a-coming, rolling round the bend….
(sings) Pardon me miss, is this the Chattanooga Choo Choo
Gospel songs do ye like them? I love black peoples gospel songs. They sound right to people who have been sad. (sings) This train is bound for glory, this train….
And yer man Chris De Burgh: Do ye remember The Spanish Train? I used to have that LP. It was brilliant! Probably worth a few bob now, that old LP.
Leo: The Monkees. The Last Train to Clarksville
Bea: Yeah! Brilliant! Did you watch the Monkees on telly? Peter Tork was my favourite. All me friends loved Davy Jones. But I liked Peter Tork. The quiet one. My ex looked a bit like Peter Tork. Blond, blue eyed, lanky, shy looking. See where that got me! Stupid girl that I was! They were right. It’s the quiet ones ye have to watch. So now I’m homeless and anxious and living inside my sound-ful mind ha ha! Off to Bray to smell the sea. To see something beautiful. At least I have my bus pass. I love my bus pass. I can get on the train and go anywhere. I can step out of my life and be someone else, somewhere else, for a few hours.
Leo: I was a Blondie fan. She was beautiful. I am a lucky man. I get to live in Bray, beside the sea. I’m glad to meet your good self and have a nice chat. That’s the thing about the train. If you’re not stuck into your mobile phone, you get to meet people. Good people. People with stories to share.
Bea: You look a little bit like Peter Tork. Did anybody ever tell you that?
END.
Maureen Penrose lives in Blanchardstown and is a community activist and great-grandmother. She loves drama and the arts. They can help change the world! The world needs some tweaking....