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                                                             The Golden Hour
                                                                                                                               Trailer 

The Day: Valentine’s Day. The Weapon: Champagne. The Crime: Murder!

“Surprise, darling!” It’s Valentine’s Day and a perfect day for homicide. What better weapon than a full bottle of Moet’s best? But as Lizzie escapes the scene of her crime for one final turn on the dance floor she soon discovers that this particular Valentine’s Day has a surprise of its own. 

This riveting two-hander is a funny, erotic and ultimately moving portrait of a woman’s unconventional response to love, sex and ‘50’s Britain.

(Strong language and adult themes)

“Compelling” J.P. Watson, The Stage

“Masterful” Time Out (for Red on Black)

“A time capsule of bottled emotion” David Prescott (The Drum Theatre)

Performers: Claire Porter, Gus Brown

Written and directed: Andrew Bridgmont

Movement: Lucie Pankhurst

Sound/Lighting: Noah Gwynn

Associate Producer: David Donegan

St James Theatre, 12 Palace St, London SW1E 5JA

Box Office: 0844 264 2140

12 Palace Street
London
SW1E 5JA
T. 0844 264 2140
E. stagedoor@stjamestheatre.co.uk - See more at: http://www.stjamestheatre.co.uk/contact-us/#sthash.DzVhqP5e.dpuf

12 Palace Street
London
SW1E 5JA
T. 0844 264 2140
E. stagedoor@stjamestheatre.co.uk - See more at: http://www.stjamestheatre.co.uk/contact-us/#sthash.DzVhqP5e.dpuf

Mon 10th - Frid 14th February at 1pm . Tickets £8/£10 on the door
 http://www.stjamestheatre.co.uk/events/the-golden-hour/

RED ON BLACK

by

Andrew Bridgmont 

 (Pt 1/2)

YouTube:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q6FahHUHvww

(Pt 2/2)

YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=257kdR9xJlw

TIME OUT REVIEW 23.09.03

Photo:John Tramper

It is 1969, and a quirky, disposable Pop Art has replaced transcendental abstractionism on the walls of trendy New York galleries. The great Abstract Expressionist Mark Rothko is spending his time smoking, drinking, popping pills and generally failing to paint. One day a young writer, Joe, inveigles his way into the fading artist’s studio. He recounts how one f Rothko’s sublime masterpieces saved his life and declares his intention to pump the dejected painter ‘full of sunlight’ and to turn his life into a Hollywood biopic.

                That great artists are rarely unequivocally great human beings is one of the little paradoxes that make biography such a compelling form. Andrew Bridgmont’s masterly two-hander offers a warts-and-all portrait of it’s revered central protagonist- Joe finds it hard to believe that this gruff, shambolic bear of a man could have produced works of such extraordinary emotional intensity. But at the heart of the play is less the mystery of creativity than the enigma of all human relationship- over the course of a series of scenes, we watch as the balance of power gradually swings in Joe’s favour.

             Katie Read’s fine production is well served by Gwen Turner’s tidily untidy paint-spattered set and by two excellent performances: Peter Wight’s Rothko is a gritty mixture of slovenly charm and volcanic rages, while William Oxborrow brings to Joe all the ambiguous qualities of the viperously ambitious disciple.       Robert Shore

                  

THE STAGE 02.10.2003

A play that tries to get to grips with American painter Mark Rothko raises nightmarish fears about the worst kinds of experimental theatre. But Bridgmont’s script – a winner at the Warehouse Croydon’s International Playwriting Festival 2000 – uses the same formal elements as Rothko, namely colour, form and balance  in a more conventional, theatrical way.

                 His well-shaped, amusing two-hander is set entirely in Rothko’s wonderfully messy studio – designed with great detail by Gwen Turner – as the artist meets a script writer and admirer who wants to make a film about him. An unbridgeable gap soon opens, though, between Rothko (Peter Wight), who lives for his painting, and William Oxborrow’s Joe, who thinks art is a career option.

                 The piece raises eternally fascinating questions about the relationship between artist and audience – who owes who?- and insists that great art is selfish.

               Joe’s Hollywood chums may be in hock to the audience but Rothko, forever trying to exorcise his demons through his work, tells him: “I don’t do it for you. I do it to overcome you.”

              Well-judged and contrasting performances in a well-paced production slowly build a relentless picture of despair at the heart of Rothko’s work – and in the process disprove his own dictum that the only true artistic currency is silence.                Colin Shearman   

All photos by John Tramper