Eastern Promise.

On Wednesday I headed for the Far East. I'm talking to the Hong Kong Communication Art Centre about possibilities for partnership work with Drama St Mary's. In the first instance we're looking to run our final year as a top up for their Performing Arts 2 year programme - but if we can successfully negotiate that, then there may be more opportunities for staff and student exchange or placement. Over time it could mean we have a well resourced regional hub in South East Asia.

The flight itself wasn't nearly as gruelling as feared and after a fairly sound sleep I woke just as we broke cloud cover and began to descend over the South China Sea - hundreds of tree clad islands, trawling boats and in the far distance the skyscrapers of Hong Kong city. Thirty years ago the plane would have landed in the bay itself, swooping low over the built up residential zones in Kowloon; but now touch down is several miles West on reclaimed land north of Lantau.

Face pressed close to the bus window for the half hour journey into town, startlingly large suspension bridges, impossibly narrow towerblocks densely packed, more going up at every junction, huge ocean liners ploughing through the deep water channels between the islands. Frenetic activity, everywhere.

The eight hour time differential made it quite late by the time I arrived at the hotel just off Nathan Road, but I couldn't resist taking a midnight stroll, to get my bearings and soak up a little of the vibrant atmosphere of the Golden Mile.

I headed towards Victoria harbour, where the Star Ferry provides cheap passage for the thousands of commuters, who daily cross the narrow strait to Hong Kong itself. Turned the corner and suddenly a glittering skyline came into view, flashes of reflected neon tumbling across the water, the sky lit up as bright as day. Only here, from the other side of the bay, do you realise how rapidly the mountains behind the shoreline rise, narrowing the available land and enforcing the vertical. The engineering needed to accommodate the millions of people and thousands of businesses here is very impressive indeed.

Despite the late hour and the humidity, the promenade was crowded with revellers and tourists. I followed it along past the old colonial clock tour and onto the rather kitsch Avenue of the Stars which celebrates, through Hollywood style handprints and pavement stars, Hong Kong's film industry.

It's hard to imagine that it's only 170 years since a naval party first hoisted the British flag over what was then a sleepy fishing village and began the process of colonisation that has, in turn, led to the creation of this tiger city. There's so much I want to find out. It's going to be a fascinating few days.
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Future Thoughts and a Visit to The Space.

Off the train and back to the day job with a full day of planning with Trevor, Patsy and Kasia in preparation for next year.

It's a fascinating time for Drama St Mary's. The first graduates from the new degree have just gone through with really impressive results. 76% gained either a first or a 2:1 - compared to 54% across the institution as a whole and although we did lose a handful on the way, everybody who stuck the course has ended up with a BA. It's a really good platform from which to build.

Of course good results don't stand for much if they don't help graduates into employment or further study - but the Applied Theatre work in Malawi, the Theatre Arts show case and the really impressive work done by the Level 3 Physical Theatre cohort give us real cause for optimism. There are agents sniffing round and several of the year group have already secured work for next year, often with companies or directors that they've worked with on the way through.

So far so good, but we know that the £8,000 fees give us a real challenge in terms of trying to attract students. It's a heavy investment and we've got to try and make sure that our offer provides something approaching value for money.

Much of the day was spent looking at whether we could move from a four day to a five day week for the students, in order to provide further training opportunities. We are still hamstrung a little by space. Indeed next year the occasionally used Langdon Centre in Teddington has been hired to full time in order to accommodate the curriculum and whereas elsewhere in the University the debate rages about how to design workloads that recognise the students need to take on part time work, we'd prefer to push ahead with a concentrated and extensive programme of work.

For me the few problems we had last year can all be resolved if we pay more attention to the tutorial system we set up this time last year. These are scheduled once a week at 9am and haven't been well attended. We weren't sharp enough in chasing those who didn't make it in and so an opportunity to really communicate new initiatives, advertise ongoing work and nip grievance in the bud, was lost.

Drama is a unusual subject in the academy. Firstly it's vocational and needs a great deal of contact time not just to transmit knowledge and discuss ideas, but primarily to set in place the good physical habits needed to be creative. Secondly, because it's about collaboration, it's imprecise. However near to perfection you personally take your craft, you'll be reliant on colleagues who bring their own experience, flaws and contradictions to the work. Even at its most remarkable it's always a compromise. It's why I think as a unit the 300 or so of us in Drama St Mary's are stronger than any pathway group, cast or individual. We've got to be prouder of each others work, accept the odd duff piece of work and build some momentum to move forward confidently.

In the evening I went over to the Isle of Dogs with Eleanor to meet Adam Hemming, who's agreed to take on the facilitation of her public engagement project. Adam weekly runs a drop in community drama group from his theatre The Space on West Ferry Road.

I don't know this venue at all. It's a converted Victorian church that at one point in its history must have welcomed the ship builders from the local yards into their congregation. It had a brilliant vibe, open, accomodating, with a friendly coffee shop/ bar and a real sense that the community own and support it.

The group do a huge range of activities and have just finished doing a full scale production. Adam thought the project would offer them a chance to do something in a minor key, explore the heritage of the area, whilst also giving him the chance to help develop some ensemble skills with his company.

He's only got six weeks to put something together, but was sure that he could use the resources, documents and old photos that Eleanor furnished him with, to create a small scale showcase on the Great Eastern launch site. It was a very positive meeting.
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Winding Up the Wind.

A gorgeous day in middle England and for the first time in a fortnight no need to rush into action. Tina, Anami, Kate B, Nick and Nick's wife Natalie decided to drive out to Whitwell to have a lazy late breakfast by the water's edge and to reflect on the last few days. It had a very end of term feel. Tomorrow we all go home.

Most accounts from last night suggest a triumphant although all of us were so deeply involved that it's hard to know. It certainly felt like a strong piece of work.

We headed back to Oakham to pack and tidy the house before an excited call from Chris to say that sunny weather and word of mouth meant the site was filling up quick sent us scurrying over to soak up the atmosphere and to begin the slow process of building into the show. There were smiles all over the site; lots of handshakes, hugs and a real sense of achievement. It's odd that our second night, traditionally anti-climactic, is also our fond farewell to the county and each other.

The only worry was that with almost no wind tonight, that we might lose some of the exhilaration of the sail boats swashbuckling arrival? Given everything that could have gone wrong, it was a pedantic concern.

In the end things worked like clockwork. We had nearly 2000 in the crowd - including Eleanor and her parents who came up especially to see the work. With a satisfying sense of the poetic, the mass, straining for the best view, forced the VIPs to move forward themselves and so yesterday's gap was effectively filled.

Perhaps unsurprisingly I was less connected with the work tonight. It's been a great journey and a fantastic chance to work with some very, very talented people - but my head is already moving forward. It's a strange truth that, for a director, the pinnacle of your work comes before the show opens. Once it's running there is little you can do.

And so When the Wind Blows comes to an end. Lots friendly thanks from the cast, the drummers and the choirs. We headed back to Broccoli Bottom for a party before drifting home to catch a few hours sleep. I'm on the first London bound train in the morning.
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Border Security and a Beautiful Evening.

Overnight storms had taken out one of the tents on the Normanton site, meaning much of the morning was spent watching a team of technicians wrestle to put get it standing again. As the hours went by the weather began to change and the sun threatened to shine. Perhaps things were going to go our way?

There was a fair amount of nervous tension and so after an early morning run through of duties and responsibilities we dismissed the actors and gave them an afternoon off to relax back at Broccoli Bottom.

Towards the afternoon a VIP tent was set up at the top of the slope looking down into the playing area - blocking many of our exits and entrances. A group of stewards from the Lions club were briefed not to allow any audience to sit between the tent and the staging area in order that an unrestricted view might be achieved. The problem was off course that all of the design and directorial decisions had been made assuming the audience would be right up to the edge of the space. Two weeks of work sabotaged by the desire to protect privilege. It seemed so out of keeping with the generous spirit of the project.

Representations were made but the organisers held firm. Compromises were suggested, but still they held firm. Subversion was considered, but eventually, with our irritation revealed, we had to give in and rush back to the young actors to tell them to break free from the agreed staging and inhabit the newly created gap. It was a destabilising risk, but a critical part of story telling is to decide where you want your audience to be when they hear it. The newly created empty space completely undermined the impact of what we'd created.

The stewards, were as good as their word, enthusiastically patrolling the space, challenging anybody who even thought about taking up position in this tempting vantage point. After watching one of them tell a young family, replete with picnic gear and a buggy, three times where they couldn't sit. I suggested they might like to take a more positive role in finding somewhere where they could. It was so hostile. A really unnecessary gulf.

By six we were in auto pilot. Companies checked off, props and costumes collected, instruments tuned and after a couple of thank you speeches Peter lifted his baton, the orchestra struck up its first notes and the ball rolled.

I spent most of it sitting with young Marcus, who despite never having rehearsed in the space, remembered his part perfectly. Elsewhere I watched from a distance as the teams of actors made cue after cue, working really hard to ensure the show. And then before I'd even really realised it'd started it was over. The final moment of crescendo as the Belle made its way to the horizon, Hannah completed her story and the sixty sailing boats performed their our synchronised dance on the water was beautiful. Tired and relieved I had to fight back the tears.

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Arrival of The Fleet.

Rehearsals moved from land to water today - which meant Fernando and me had a quiet day mainly spent watching the boats on the reservoir try and co-ordinate their tacking under Karen's radio instructions.

There are three main components to this. First of all the Rutland Belle, which once rigged with the osprey, is hidden behind the church. Its appearance into view could, provided we don't spoil the surprise, produce a wonderful moment of spectacle. Secondly we have three green goddesses disguised as silver fish, which will accompany the Belle and finally the sixty or so boats belonging to Sailability - a para sailing club which will be released from a holding dock and provide the grand and triumphant finale.

The pre-show routine for tomorrow is beginning to take shape. Space is now fully allocated, jobs fixed and timings agreed. We're still slightly stretched and are occasionally having to fend off well meaning offers of help from parents and other local supporters keen to take on responsibility for the shows well being. It's a difficult issue with community shows like this. It only works if everybody feels a part of things - but equally there has to a real sense of control from the professional team. The craft is in making very good decisions about other peoples skills and capabilities in order to harness the potential of the collective group. Get it wrong and you're in real show threatening trouble; get it right and the work grows beyond anybodies wildest dreams.

The weather was very difficult today - but in many ways this was a blessing in disguise. If we can make things work in the wind and rain then we should find even the half hearted late June climate, predicted for the weekend, relatively easy to manage. Towards the end of the evening Peter Ashworth, in charge of the young sailors, warned that we might have to abort the ending. We hit fast forward and watched from the shore as the boats rapidly filled the bay, making impressive use of the prevailing wind. It was magic.

The arrival of the flotilla marks the final layer of our show. There's Nick's score, Chris's script - read ever more sensitively by Hannah Gordon, who's been with us over the last couple of days, our land based choreography, the wonderful Sengalese drumming and now the boats. Each of these five elements has been conceived and rehearsed mostly in glorious isolation. Occasionally paths have crossed, but mostly the connections have been made through intelligence and facilitated accident. Even now less than a day away from our first performance we're still spotting the possibilities and making tweaks. It's been a marvellous way to work.

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Sightlines Into the Past.

Most of the day was spent working on the Spanish section of the show. The Senegalese work is so reliant on the students that we can only now tweak in theory, giving careful instructions to El Glayu and Drama St Mary's and hope that they'll communicate in the runs. It's a bit of a Chinese whisper way of directing - but for now it's all we can do.

As for the Asturian horse I'm still worried that we've spent so much time diligently working the blue silk - so that we can unravel and clear to within a bar of the score - that we've rather neglected the beauty of the puppet and are under playing its importance. In the story the horse stands for a symbol of our common humanity. Some of the oldest cave paintings in Europe are found in the Asturias. The Tito Bustillo cave is a major tourist attraction and it's here that our horse was originally drawn a mind bending 20,000 years ago. The accuracy, detail and sense of life in the painting connects us immediately to our ancestors in the most direct way imaginable. The image could have been made yesterday. It seems important as we've released him from the preservation of darkness to meet the osprey that we understand his demands. He is as fresh and full of vigour as when first created. There's a psychology and back story that we're not tuned into just yet.

We ran, with a skeleton cast and crew, on site early this morning and she rather gets lost behind the material. We've also blocked her far to close to Harry's osprey and it all becomes a bit of a blur.

One of the real difficulties is explaining to the puppeteers just how much animation is needed to raise the horse. There is a sense that because they're hidden they're somehow meant to work as technicians - efficient and precise rather than as character actors - full of spontaneity, energy and awareness of the audience. There is no room for diffidence.

It's becoming increasingly apparent how much energy the actors are going to need for the twenty minutes or so they're on stage. Not just in terms of playing to the huge crowd we're anticipating but also to get from one side of the space to an other. Occasionally we're asking them to make 400 metre runs in less than a couple of minutes in order to be in place for another entrance. Hard to nail this in a stop start tech.

By this evening we'd found a way for the horse to make a playful circle of the audience prior to his encounter with the osprey. El Glayu had also begun to warm up and suddenly the horse came alive, full of personality, pride and a sense of himself.

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Moving Onto Site.

We spent the full day on the event site grabbing any opportunity to walk through, time and finalise the scenes in advance of tonight's tech. Being by the reservoir offered opportunities to flesh out some of the key moments and to really understand whether we'd done enough to tell the story visually.

Tina was everywhere, keen eyes looking at ways in we might use flashes of colour - be they on the tropical birds wings or through mass ranks of yellow processional flags - to guide the audience's focus across the space. Every addition, of course, brings fresh logistical problems and at times there was a tension between what I felt we could achieve and the desire to populate the space with banner carrying actors. Charo and Fernando have already been drafted in to lead the crucial process of removing the osprey head from the Belle and bringing it solemnly to land and we're simply down on numbers. Through patient negotiation and moments of rare compromise, however, we did make some progress.

Meanwhile in the near distance Kate, Anami and Stu worked steadily and diligently setting the huge osprey that will sit proudly on the spit in front of Normanton church. The opening chords of the music will wake him at the very start of the show, prompting him to flex his magnificent wings and twist his head to survey the Rutland sky. It's clearly painstaking work, but back on land we get an impending sense that something truely wonderful is taking shape.

At 4pm the children began to arrive. Not just the drummers and performers; but also 300 primary school children who were quickly marshaled into their choir positions. It soon became apparent that the focus of the tech would be musical and so in the end Fernando and I had to take our company to the other end of the site so that we could teach and run our sequences. The two hours flew by and I felt we were working dangerously fast and not giving the young performers any chance to consolidate the direction through repetition. The Drama St Mary's crew were magnificent, however, willingly taking on spade loads of responsibility, encouraging here, correcting there, always vigilant in checking who was grasping the work and who was struggling. By the time the parents came to do the pick up we had at least covered all the ground, even if we hadn't had an opportunity to secure the blocking. One more crack tomorrow night and then a troubling 48 hours before the first show.

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