The Pantaloons

Open air theatre is a very exacting art. It’s very hard to do well but extraordinarily easy to do badly. In fact, over the years, I have developed an almost pathological hatred of outdoor theatre having been subjected to numerous Shakespeare adaptations in the great outdoors.

The Pantaloons in action

Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, Midsummer Night’s Dream and Much Ado About Nothing had all been reduced to a bizarre modern theatrical version of silent cinema – but without the histrionic acting.

I suspect this may be the problem. You can’t transfer a fairly naturalistic indoor theatre experience into the open air – not only does the experience get lost but there is an awful lot competing for your attention, from the rumble of jet aircraft to birdsong and the sirens of passing police cars.

As with any theatrical performance that isn’t mime, you have got to be able to hear the dialogue. The problem I had with my multitude of disappointing Shakespeares was that I couldn’t hear a word of what was being said.

If I hadn’t already known the story then I would have been completely lost – even so Shakespeare without the words isn’t really Shakespeare at all – merely a visual representation of his source material. The joy of Shakespeare is to be found in the language.

A musical moment for The Pantaloons at The Scoop in London

In an effort to exorcise the ghosts of my previous nightmarish outdoor theatre experiences I set up a meeting with outdoor theatre specialists The Pantaloons, regulars at Ip-Art, and co-founded by Ipswich actor Mark Hayward.

These guys are the real deal. They have managed to entertain me on a bright summer’s evening, so if they can do that then they really know what’s what.

The question I needed answering was simple: Was it me? Did I simply not get open-air theatre or was there something wrong with the performances I had seen by other companies?

Mark, accompanied by his wife and fellow performer Caitlin, happily put my mind at rest. They said that: ‘No I wasn’t wrong.’ The demands of playing outside were entirely different from those of conventional theatre.

“When we started off we performed for free. The only way we got paid was when we passed a bucket round at the end of a performance and we learned very quickly if people couldn’t hear then they wandered off quite quickly.

“So from the earliest stages we learned to read an audience. You can tell very quickly if people can’t hear and if they can’t, you get louder. We are trained to project well but if that doesn’t work – say for example it’s a windy day and the trees are blowing then you have to use a bit of throw to get it out there. The benefit of working outdoors is that you can see your audience and you can work with them.”

Mark said that when it comes to outdoor theatre bigger is nearly always better. There is no room for small, naturalistic performances in his company. The Pantaloons are about big, brash, colourful performances which grab and audience and makes them forget about the distractions that will inevitably surround them.

Caitlin added: “I think that a lot of companies, when they set out to create an outdoor theatre show, don’t make good artistic choices. They rely on the fact that they are in a lovely garden or in wonderful landscaped grounds with an imposing house in the background, that the audience will be enjoying a picnic and having a lovely time with family and friends, and, in some bizarre way, they have at the back of their mind that what they are doing doesn’t really matter.

“Also they forget that naturalism doesn’t really work in an outdoor environment, you’ve got to draw on other influences – Commedia dell’arte, panto; things with lots of audience interaction, things which are very big and physical, which draw an audience’s attention. I think it’s no bad thing to be over-the-top because you are competing with Mother Nature for people’s attention.”

Mark said that the more a performer worked with an audience, the more they spoke directly to the crowd, got them involved in the piece being performed, the more engaged the audience became and were far less likely to get bored or wander off.

He said that unlike indoor theatre audiences, who were metaphorically held captive in a black box, outdoor audiences were free to wander off as soon as their interest waned in what they were watching.

He said the trick for outdoor companies was to keep their performances not only colourful, fun and lively but also surprising. By including songs and physical comedy audiences were not sure what to expect next.

“Our audience process deals with whether people can project and can handle the language of Shakespeare or Dickens but we do spend a long time working with potential actors on their improvisation skills, on their ability to think and invent on their feet.

“There’s no better way of getting an audience on your side than by reacting to something that is happening there and then – be it a passing jet or a police car. It makes it of the moment, immediate, live and emphasises that it is a special live event for everyone.”

Judging by the Pantaloons’ rule book, as laid down by Mark and Caitlin, my outdoor theatre experiences have been somewhat staid, formal and po-faced. No wonder that I haven’t been able to hear as I what I was experiencing was a standard indoor theatre show but transferred outside to a picturesque setting.

It was as if the companies concerned said: “Oh, I know where’s there’s a lovely ivy covered balcony, we can do Romeo and Juliet’ or “There are plenty of castles in Suffolk, let’s do a tour of Macbeth”. Yes, you can and should make good use of backdrops such as these but the approach has to be less reverential. As Mark and Caitlin prove at Ip-Art each year, you sometimes have to take a multi-discipline, absurdist approach to theatre in order to tell the story on such an epic canvas. It has to be big, it has to be colourful and it has to be loud.

Outdoor theatre, done well, should be a wonderful part of long summer evenings but the performers have to have the courage to have fun with the delivery of the piece.

Mark adds a final: “It’s a question of hats. The audience in outdoor shows isn’t expecting to believe that an actor is really that character. They have just seen him as half-a-dozen other people. We have a company of five or six playing 100 people. The audience identifies with the actor not the individual character. It’s the actor who changes his hat or his coat. We are entering into a pact with the audience to entertain. Outdoor theatre is huge fun because it requires a real suspension of disbelief – actors and audiences are embarking on an entertaining journey together.”