Big break in the Big Apple

Published on Thursday 13 August 2009 19:07

IN June 2008, standing in the lobby of Edinburgh's Cineworld in my capacity as development assistant for the Edinburgh International Film Festival, I watched Keira Knightley stroll past me on her way into the premiere of The Edge of Love. I reminded myself for a brief and unpleasant moment that Ms Knightley is ten days younger than me. I was graduating the next day with a good degree but I also had thousands of pounds of student debt round my neck and I would soon face the prospect of trying

Earlier this year I returned from New York. I was there with Eight; the Fringe had turned out to be one of the most exciting experiences of my life. We had spent the first week of the festival enjoying average audiences and few reviews and then, from nowhere, came news of a Fringe First and then the Carol Tambor Best of Edinburgh Award. My student cast and I had won a three-week, all-expenses paid run in New York.

Bags packed, visas in hand and hopes high, our team of ten set off, on 4 January, 2009, for JFK. Apparently nervous of how we might go down Stateside, the male members of the cast decided to test the British charm offensive on an American audience, focusing their attack on the stewardesses. The boys disembarked having enjoyed free beers and business-class gift bags, delivered by smitten staff; thus far, the American reaction had been positive. Kent Lawson, the endlessly benevolent business arm of the Carol Tambor prize, met us at the airport and drove us to our hotel. We were delivered to our rooms and given goodie bags containing maps, guide books and spending money, and invited to dinner with Carol and Kent that evening. Once hotel doors were closed you could hear the squeals of ten very excited students.

Dinner was delicious and accompanied by lengthy conversations about the cultural differences between Britain and America, but eventually jet lag took its toll and we turned the lights out on our first day in New York. Never far from our minds was the knowledge that we would have to test those differences, for real, on a paying audience the very next night.

PS122, our theatre, was in a trendy neighbourhood in the East Village. Neighbouring streets were lined with fairy lights and vintage shops, the bars were kitsch and the clientele extremely arty. Eight was part of the Coil Festival, an adjunct to Under The Radar, a curated festival of new work which invites companies and producers who are specifically looking to tour. The concurrence of these two festivals and the annual meeting of APAP (Association of Producers and Promoters) meant that the entire American theatrical world was in town. The Public Theatre, New York's largest off-Broadway venue, acted as festival HQ, presenting networking events, discussions and exciting theatre. It also housed the bustling Lu Lounge – our post-show haunt in which much drinking and talking was done beneath the stuffed horse that hung above the bar (they used props from shows as decoration).

After several shows, we fell into our stride, adapting to audiences who laughed at previously unrecognised jokes and fell silent at gags that involved British cultural references.

Just in case you wondered, Americans don't know about Alan Sugar, Tracey Emin or Radio 4 but they do know about Gordon Ramsay, Nigella Lawson and John Major. We had some help navigating these unknown waters as we befriended The Bats, the resident actors at The Flea Theatre.

As we had gone to see them perform one evening, one of the actors, who shall remain nameless, smuggled us up onto the top of his office building for panoramic views of the city and insider information on how life as an actor works in The Big Apple. It was these conversations – with actors, directors and producers – that made this trip so valuable; we, a cast of students, had access to environments in which we could talk to and befriend the establishment of the New York theatre world.

The critical reaction up until the midway point was varied, but we still held out for the key player, the New York Times. They had seen the show in week one and yet, at the end of week two, had still not printed anything. Every night, at midnight, all ten of us – whether in restaurants, bars or clubs – would desperately seek out the closest internet portal and scour it for a review that just never seemed to arrive.

Week three, however, provided ample distraction as six of us headed to Washington DC to witness the inauguration of 'Ooo – Baa – Maa!', a chant we were quick to pick up and reluctant to let go of, much to the chagrin of those who had stayed behind. We donned Obama T-shirts (our favourites of the captions we saw being 'Be kind to the environment – plant a Bush back in Texas' and 'Obama is the new black'), bought flags, wrapped up warm and at 6am headed for The National Mall.

The atmosphere at the inauguration was one of poignant communality, strangers wishing us "Happy Obama Day", scout groups handing out maps and smiles in equal number, big screens playing American Pie and families spanning several generations, the elders shedding a quiet tear while the young cheered.

The next morning, in spite of some sore heads, we had more celebrating to do as the NY Times review had finally been published and they were wonderfully complimentary; as we returned to New York with wide smiles it seemed that Eight, as it entered its final week, had cracked the big city.

Our last few performances gave rise to some slightly unprofessional but hilarious high jinx among the cast and some fond farewells. Carol and Kent came to wish us well for our closing night and the chorus of "thank-yous" as they left seemed so inadequate as an expression of our gratitude.

As a result of our run in New York, Eight transferred to London's West End in July. Many of the cast have diverted their career plans towards drama school and I now have another play, Precious Little Talent, at the Edinburgh Fringe. It is indisputable that a career in the arts owes as much to serendipity as it is does to talent, and in the current climate, those lucky breaks are getting harder to find; The Carol Tambor Award gives someone a chance, chances are invaluable, long may it continue.

&#149 Ella Hickson's new play, Precious Little Talent, is at the Bedlam Theatre until 29 August, 2:30pm.