Walking towards the entrance of Collaborators I was a bit scared, I'll have to admit: the hall immediately before it is sparsely illuminated and the walls are painted brown and black, which creates an unappealing dark ambience (which reminded me of medieval churches, or maybe just churches in general). But when you turn left to enter the exhibition's hall, the situation changes radically.

The first thing you are confronted with when you set foot in the white bright Collaborators vestibule are two man-sized sheep costumes (one white, one pink) and, although nobody bothers to let us know where they come from or who wore them and when, they set the mood for the rest of the exhibition. I can't help smiling and thinking 'oooh, could that be the solution for the extra cold British winters?'

What happens next is the realisation that theatre is a world where everything is possible and even your wildest, strangest, most complicated mental images are likely to be understood and reproduced. The detail of the drawings for the costumes of the opera Lucio Silla by Paul Brown and the exactitude of their final creation are astonishing. Also Marie-Jeanne Lecca's visions for Der Ring des Niebelungen (The Ring Cycle) are impressively well-recreated for stage appearance. The beast created by Kandis Cook for Beauty and the Beast shows a much scarier version of the furry - and even cuddly - monster created by the Disney studios. With a light-up chest that reminded me of ET (a film I've always disliked since the moment my mum took me to the cinema to watch it when I was four years old) and being over two metres high, it is certainly someone I wouldn't like to run into in the middle of the night (or day).

All the creations shown were designed in the last four years, which proves not only how important this art is in the UK but also how essential it is for the experts to communicate what they want to get across to the audience and how much effort is put into it.

If you ever wondered what it is like to be a star, this exhibition gives us an insight into Kylie Minogue's lifestyle while she's on tour. There is a recreation of her dressing room and, in case you were wondering, she has her own accessorised glasses (with her name and jewels on them!). The most satisfactory and relieving bit is to see her fake hair on a mannequin's head and how much make-up there is on the table. With all that help we all would look that pretty too.

From costume designers to lightning technicians, from make-up artists to sound engineers, from music composers to fabric experts and directors, everyone who has a role in the creation of an atmosphere in theatre or live performances has a space in this vibrant and dramatic exhibition. The exhibition is an excellent example of what the collaborative effort of the dramatic arts professionals can produce.

END

(c) Gabriela Scavuzzo 2008

Gabriela Scavuzzo is a writer living in London

reviewed Sunday 24 August 08 / Victoria & Albert Museum, South Kensington, London

Two enormous colourful sheep-men welcome the visitor of this enchanting exhibition. In the background, creepy laughter makes me unconsciously smile. I'm still with my two sheep-men when I hear a child saying 'I wonder why she's laughing?'. It's because of an old lady without a face sitting on her armchair, all dressed up. A couple of Chinese tourists start laughing, following the old lady. The atmosphere reminds me of a fairytale. After a while the laughter starts to annoy me, but the child won't step onto the green carpet that gives life to the lady. He's right though: what is she laughing at? And why no face?

The exhibition is full of boxes: miniaturized models, little stages of shows that have been. The details are amazing: tiny stages with wings and precise furniture and trees and benches and stairs. It's all perfectly studied, even the real cables of the backstage of the theatre!

While I'm astonished, with my head literally inside Evita's set, a thought comes to mind: the average audience never pays attention to these particulars, to the decorations chosen for the doors, to the boa hanging on the hanger at the bottom of the stage. These small stages are so accurate and creative, and in almost every one there's a small chair, the same size as the ones I used to have in my Barbie doll's house. I used to think that my small precious Barbie's furniture was made in a small factory by small men. I'm a grown-up now, but I still have the same feeling.

We go to the theatre, we see the show, we see the actors, we enjoy the scenography, but how many times do we really think about what's behind it all? That's what Collaborators is about - the performance. It could be pantomime, dance, a musical or theatre. Here is all the lighting, the costumes, the idea of the set, drawings, sketches, music - everything other than the actors: they're just cartoons figures inside the whole image.

While I'm thinking this, I end up in front of a stage model of Edward Gordon Craig, exactly the person who suggested viewing actors as no more important than marionettes. And beside that, there's a full-size perfect replica of Kylie Minogue's dressing room. It's a dream for every girl: pallettes of clothes, Manolo Blahnik shoes all over the place, letters from fans - you want to break the glass and try everything on!

There are costumes, from one made with Elizabethan-era fabric to the present day: a Salomé with tutu skirt and a pair of Converse, or an ingenious and futuristic costume for Beauty and the Beast. As a whole, Collaborators helps you realise how all the arts are united. The costume designer needs to know the space, the director needs to see the lighting, the lighting designer and technician need to know where the actors will be, and the music composer needs to know everything - all to create a marvellous ensemble.

A bunch of eclectic, artistic individuals managing to work effectively together to a common goal? Going back to the entrance I can't stop myself from stepping on the green carpet again and making the old lady laugh.

END

(c) Caterina Bertone 2008

Caterina Bertone is an actress and writer

reviewed Sunday 27 April 08 / Victoria & Albert Museum, South Kensington, London

Collaborators: UK Design for Performance 2003 – 2007 somewhat incongruously has two sheep stood on their hind legs and a masked dummy dressed in a Georgian cloud-spattered suit at its entrance. This summarises what to expect from the show, which, in conjunction with the Society of British Theatre Designers, aims to demonstrate the dynamism of technical creativity in contemporary British theatre.

Many of the exhibits are certainly exciting. With film footage and scale models of sets alongside costumes, sketches, photographs and a brief description of each designer's vision, there is much to look at and surreptitiously prod. There is even an area to write down memories while watching clips of a winged man, and also a mock-up of Kylie's dressing room during the Wembley stage of her Showgirl tour, complete with authentically snipped ribbons on the corsets from her quick changes.

With the focus on design, there is inevitably an emphasis on lavish big-budget productions such as operas, musicals and things by the RSC (Royal Shakespeare Company), which may feed the imaginations of fringe practitioners but may not be practically achievable. But there is also an entire section dedicated to installation work, with performance sprouting in every cranny of human habitation, from forests and castles to disused warehouses, and revealing just what can be done with a little lateral thinking.

The problem with this exhibition, though, is that there is almost too much in it, leading to a lack of depth or focus in any of the individual displays. These are crammed together in a chaotic jumble, every bit of room taken up with a new thing - until the whole experience feels more like a bite-size showcase than an exploration of contemporary design.

Penny Saunders, for example, designer for one of the UK's most innovative companies - Forkbeard Fantasy - whose sets mingle interactive media and filmic interplay, has a single panel, upon which hangs pictures of a man-made horse guarded by a mechanical laughing granny. Marie-Jeanne Lecca, who tantalizingly describes the look for an adaptation of Der Zwerg as 'punk-Velazquez', has enough wall space only for one photograph and a few drawings.

There is no real sense of how these concepts originated, or how they were eventually realised. There is little of the history of any of the projects or of theatre design in general, excepting a wooden mock-up by Edward Gordon Craig (1872-1966) from a century ago. And while banners abound decrying the importance of collaboration between the theatrical disciplines, there are few examples of costume, lighting, sound and set shown together. Philip Glass and Jean Cocteau's Orphee, for instance, with its incredible UV scale model, gives no insight into the startling illumination or how Glass's music and Cocteau's poetry influenced the visual characteristics. Although there is an area playing recordings of designers in discussion, and some of the performances can be watched on video, there is very little sense of how a production comes to be.

Perhaps the most successful sections are those which concentrate upon one particular design aspect. Kandice Cook describes the creation of The Beast's spring-heeled costume in the RSC’s Beauty And The Beast, and the creature itself strains from a corner towards the room. Another simple yet arresting display presents a series of photographs chronologically mapping Wagner's Der Ring des Nibelungen designed by Richard Hudson, leaving the spectacular staging to speak for itself.

For theatre designers or technicians this exhibition is a brilliant place to find inspiration and to look at what is possible. For those who simply want to admire vibrant images, it is also worth tackling the labyrinthine halls of the V & A to find it. But those seeking a better understanding of what theatre collaboration is and how it is achieved will not be able to ignore gaps in the substance.

Credits: See www.vam.ac.uk Collaborators link

END

(c) Philippa Tatham 2008

Philippa Tatham is an actress, playwright, director and producer

reviewed Sunday 27 April 08 / Victoria & Albert Museum, South Kensington, London

Fringe Report (c) Fringe Report 2002-2008

www.fringereport.com