Produced by Zoe Weldon / Lidless Theatre, the revival is directed by Max Harrison with set & costume by Kit Kinchcliff and sound design by Sam Glossop. Casting consultant is Nadine rennie CDG. Leaves of Glass is the sixth adult stage play by Philip Ridley. It premiered at the Soho Theatre in London, England, on 3 May 2007. [1] Exploiting the intimacy of the smaller auditoria at the Park Theatre, set designer Kit Hinchcliffe has created a perfect setting by which to underscore the menace that lies at the centre of Leaves of Glass. Set in the round, the four actors move in and out of the dark performance space which is marked only by inlaid floor lighting. Their proximity to the audience both when performing, and when entering and leaving, reinforces the claustrophobia of a family environment, creating a distinct sense of unease.

Ridley, Philip (16 May 2007). "PLAYWRIGHT PHILIP RIDLEY TALKS TO ALEKS SIERZ". TheatreVoice (Interview: Audio). Interviewed by Aleks Sierz . Retrieved 23 July 2022.

Lidless Theatre and Zoe Weldon in association with Park Theatre and Theatre Deli present the first major UK revival

After this and the tour, what other projects are you currently involved in that you can share with us? Set in the round, you are instantly, almost voyeuristically placed in whichever room the characters are in, strengthening the sense of investment you have in the truth and the outcome. With just a staple of four benches as the set, and additional purposeful props smoothly brought in when needed for a location change, the starkness deliberately pulls your focus to the phenomenal acting and storytelling. Everything that is there is there for a reason and not simply to dress the set, whether it be a hanging lamp, a piece of art, a remote control, or a baby monitor. The thought that has gone into minute detail is breath taking, and this extends to every creative element. Lighting will mess with your mind, taking you from a plunging darkness to feeling almost naked and vulnerable in the sudden and glaring strip lights. A particularly gut-wrenching scene is played out via candlelight, offering up yet another story telling filter where just like the characters, you are forced to listen, because you don’t have easily accessible visual clues. Costumes are designed to lead us into snap judgements. Barry first appears with impeccable detail, chunks of vomit on his top, and later with holes in his t-shirt and jeans with an unwashed grime in them. Even the make up on his wrists shows of his struggle with self-harming. In contrast, Steven wears a crisp white shirt, expensive and trendy trousers, smooth, tailored, immaculate, with not a hair out of place. We think we have seen the truth based solely on their appearances before we have even bothered to listen. It is the second entry in Ridley's unofficially titled "Brothers Trilogy", having been preceded by Mercury Fur and followed by Piranha Heights. [5] [6] [2] Story [ edit ] As time goes on severe accusations towards Steven and dark moments from the past start to bubble to the surface; abuse, domestic abuse, extra marital affairs. Barry is also making accusations, which Stephen is keen to bury, to rewrite. The main theme in Leaves of Glass is memory, recounting stories from the past and the unreliability of any one person’s account and how these accounts can be swayed to portray them in a positive light; a key example is Liz saying she wished she had one of Barry’s paintings on her living room wall, when earlier we saw her say how horrible she thought these paintings were and why would anybody want them on their living room wall.The cast, however, is first-rate. Debbie, I felt, was an underwritten character, although Buchholz does brilliantly to make what could easily have been a one-dimensional, nice-but-dim personality into someone altogether more substantial. Costello’s Steven has good stage presence, which is just as well given his various soliloquies. Potter came across as someone relishing playing the complicated and somewhat flamboyant Barry. Ainsworth’s Liz was highly convincing, unapologetically forthright when the occasion calls for it but otherwise possessing a warm and welcoming charm. Leaves of Glass, by Philip Ridley, is a dextrous and ever fluid exploration of the reliability of personal memory and how our stories move and reshape over years. The family dynamic and a desire to present a palpable and forgiving narrative in retrospect mean that stories are told and retold, each time with a subtle change that can completely transpose the hero of the hour. It is both fascinating and horrifying to watch the effects of that as the sharing of a memory manipulates reality to transform the balance of power. Like leaves made of glass, the veneer of truth is easily shattered. The in-the-round seating arrangement wasn’t wholly suitable for the play, which really belongs in a more traditional proscenium arch setting – facial expressions and non-verbal reactions should have been seen by everyone at the same time. Debbie even mentions a particular stare Steven gives under certain circumstances, and I couldn’t help but notice an entire section of the audience couldn’t see it for themselves. The script is almost too poetical at times, given the hard-hitting (in more ways than one) storyline. It is too harsh to assert it’s no wonder there isn’t an interval because patrons might be inclined not to return for the second half. But it is also too harsh on the audience not to have one: at 105 minutes straight through, such a heavy and traumatic plot should have given us an opportunity to come up for air. The four-person ensemble, comprised of Kacey Ainsworth, Katie Bucholz, Ned Costello, and Joseph Potter, delivers a tour de force performance. The setting, East London, 2023, is the canvas on which their characters unfurl – the hardworking Steven, the unsettled Barry, the lonely Liz, and the disillusioned Debbie. That’s the way it works in this family. Believe what you wanna believe. Twist this. Ignore the other. That’s how we survive.’

Steven has always tried to be a good person. He works hard. He looks after his family. But, suddenly, everyone starts accusing him of things. His wife accuses him of being unfaithful. His mother accuses him of being coercive. And his brother, Barry, accuses him of…what exactly? The play unfolds not just through dialogues but also through introspective monologues, lending a distinct depth and breadth to the narrative. In these moments of solitude, the characters come into their own, allowing the audience an intimate look into their lives, pasts, and psyches. These monologues are profound, poignant, and strikingly raw.

Steven has always tried to be a good person. He works hard. He looks after his family.But, suddenly, everyone starts accusing him of things. His wife accuses him of being unfaithful. His mother accuses him of being coercive. And his brother, Barry, accuses him of... what exactly? The play is about two brothers, Steven and Barry. Steven is the head of a successful graffiti removal company and Barry, his younger brother, works for him as he is struggling to get income and recognition from being an artist. How does it feel to revive such a gripping and disorienting narrative, especially for an audience of today? Casting announced for the first major UK revival of Philip Ridley’s Leaves of Glass at Park Theatre in London.

Leaves of Glass is a stellar production, showcasing some real talent in a gem of a theatre. The themes had the potential to get messy and confusing, however, I found them to be portrayed well and with conviction. Ridley’s script spends far too much time setting up the story, it takes too long for the audience to connect to the characters, which for the first half feel one-dimensional. Quite a lot of time passes before we realise there’s anything under the surface of them. For this reason, the suspense and drama built plateaus in the middle, as nothing much has occurred, I can see that having an interval may have caused audience members to not return. Max Harrison’s production is weighty and intense, there are minimal moments of light peppered throughout, and this at times means the play is excruciating to watch – not in a bad way – the tension is simply enough to place you on the edge of your seat and disable your ability to exhale. To have the climax of the play, occur in complete darkness, except for a candelabra, surrounds the audience in heavy darkness, which makes the scene atmospheric, Harrison makes us sit in the drama of this scene for a while, creating a truly remarkable moment within the play. The four-hander comes to life after a few initial hiccups. With the characters being quite hedgehog-like, Harrison places the story on a tonal swing, heightening the comic exchanges to mitigate the bleakness that surrounds them. Joseph Potter's Barry starts off a bit overdone and overly jumpy against Ned Costello's poised approach as Steven. He is waspish and artificial until he eases into the role and finally delivers a coup that makes all the dominoes cascade around him. On the other side, Costello gives a refined, bitter performance. He is increasingly haunted as his resentment resurfaces, straying from sibling rivalry and tipping into needless childish cruelty. Finsbury Park station and the surrounding area can get very busy when Arsenal play at home. These days are highlighted on the schedule.

Who are the creative team of Leaves of Glass?

Leaves of Glass is, of course, a story of two brothers. Do you have any experiences with siblings that you drew from for this performance? Our Rating LEAVES OF GLASS OS ONE OF THE MOST THOUGHT-PROVOKING AND BELIEVABLE SHOWS YOU WILL EVER SEE - TRULY OUTSTANDING! The death of their father has clearly affected the brothers, and their relationship with not only each other, but also their mother Liz, a straight talking East End woman who is convinced she’s holding the family together, when in reality she’s ignoring what’s painfully obvious to the rest of us. Kacey Ainsworth’s gloriously forthright performance leaves the audience wondering whether to love or hate this particular matriarch. Liz, the boys’ mother ( Kacey Ainsworth) and Debbie (Katie Buchholz), Steven’s wife, have their own interpretation of events too of course. Whilst playing supporting roles they nonetheless add to the fluidity of accuracy and expectation. The absence of a father is marked but it takes some time and several accounts for the audience to surmise what has happened.