Disco Pigs - Irish Theatre Magazine

Disco Pigs by Siobhán O'Gorman 

Permeated by a sense of entrapment, the theatre of Enda Walsh is at its best when performed in intimate spaces. While real freedom seems just beyond the grasp of many of his characters, his romantic two-hander Disco Pigs is more hopeful than much of his later work. As the adventures of Pig and Runt descend into chaos, we anticipate that Runt, at least, will break out of the psychological box the two have built around themselves. In this context, the creative approach of Fregoli, under the skilled directorship of Rob McFeely, was fitting; throughout, there was a palpable sense that Galway’s Town Hall Studio could not contain this production’s effervescent energy.

Bursting the seams of the stage, Shane McDermott (Pig) and Maria Tivnan (Runt) engaged the audience’s assistance to create their world of Pork (Cork) city. Early in the production, Tivnan reached out to pinch my cheek; another audience member became a bus driver and a victim of Pig’s obnoxious, teenage tirade as McDermott fixed his eyes on him while he spoke. Initially, the audience interaction had a jolting effect. Yet, if audience members edgily wondered who the actors would approach next, Tivnan and McDermotts’ performances were powerful enough to distract from this and to truly enthral.

Both actors aptly oscillated between the playful and the emotive. McDermott, himself a Galwegian and founding member of the company, demonstrated an impressive command of the Cork accent. Tivnan was at her best during the production’s closing moments as Runt attempts to correct and normalise her speech. Punctuated by pauses and with a pensive expression, her delivery during these moments poignantly captured the essence of Walsh’s thematic flirtation with freedom. McFeely’s lighting, as well as his directorial blurring of the divide between spectators and actors intensified these moments. Under a glow that evoked sunrise, Tivnan moved into the audience, a couple of rows from the stage, for her final speech. This served to conjure the tantalising prospect of her escape.

With a bare set and two box-shaped wooden frames as the actors’ only props, the production demanded imaginative decisions in terms of lighting, costume and music. The music, also chosen by McFeely, harmonised with the rhythms of Walsh’s script. As Pig and Runt embarked on Pork city’s clubbing scene, dreamy, trace-style tunes accompanied meditative moments while fast-paced, climactic scenes were amplified by hard house. During these scenes, McFeely’s colourful strobe lighting and the actors’ vigorous movements imbued the set with a disco vibe. Tivnan and Rebecca Ryan’s costume design, captured a 90’s clubbing style. The actors wore coloured tops covered in black netting and Runt’s garish make-up subtly nodded to Commedia dell'Arte. Ultimately, Fegoli’s imaging of the characters further circumscribed their difference – especially from those “students” (the audience) whom they abhor.

Tivnan and McDermott embodied that intimidating yet needy quality of troubled youths in a production that both constructed and tested the seemingly impenetrable bubble of adolescence. Having revived their critically acclaimed production of Bedbound in 2009 and successfully produced Disco Pigs in 2010, Fregoli seems to be captivated by Walsh’s work. Hopefully, this will be a fruitful and enduring attraction; performing in small venues, the fast-paced energy and madness that characterises this company offers the ideal forum for the warped and vibrant worlds of Enda Walsh.


Tape at Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2008,
Fringe Hub Reviewer Three Weeks
***** 5 star review

'Tape' By Stephen Belber


'Tape' is a modern play about three former school friends, which follows the classical unities of action, time and space. Although performed in real time, it never lost my attention, as the acting and directing were truly exceptional, at times feeling like a West End production. Addressing themes such as morality, betrayal and drug-use, it is a hard-hitting piece, which is sensitively developed by an outstanding cast, especially Shane McDermot, who fantastically portrayed the turmoil of a man with a regrettable past. The company is only at the festival for 5 days, in a venue with the capacity of 30, so this is definitely a production to catch before the festival ends, as you won't see better acting in such an intimate space.



Breathing Water - Irish Theatre Magazine 2011

http://itmarchive.ie/web/Reviews/Current/Breathing-Water.aspx.html

With its rhythmic dialogue and rapid character changes, Raymond Scannell’s award-winning first play, Breathing Water, seems like it was written for Fregoli. The experimental piece is comprised of narrative fragments and dramatic vignettes which render the story of Jonah and his mysterious fear of water.

The play begins with a lyrical, evocative speech. This, along with a subsequent focus on the everyday routines of the four central characters, works to obscure both the source and the nature of Jonah’s psychosis, mirroring the main character’s repression. Flashbacks uncover Jonah’s issues as the play progresses.

In addition to Jonah (Jarlath Tivnan), this four-hander’s other key roles include his girlfriend Sophie (Kate Murray), his best friend Comic (Aron Hegarty), and Sophie’s vacuous comrade Carrie (Teresa Brennan). Although the male characters are more fully drawn than the female roles, Murray and Brennan portrayed Sophie and Carrie with skill and confidence, while Jarlath Tivnan and Hegarty’s onstage chemistry aptly conveyed the depth of Jonah and Comic’s bond. The play also offers a variety of other personae and caricatures which allowed the cast to showcase the diversity of their talents. Hegarty in particular demonstrated great range, switching between such roles as the powerful, intimidating Brother Bernard, who taught the boys at the Christian Brothers, and a hilarious satire of a Dublin rapper.

With a relatively bare set and minimal props, the attention of the viewers was steered towards the actors’ speech and movements, which were atmospherically-lit and accompanied by diverse music, ranging from electronic dance to Chopin. A simple black backdrop, dotted with silver shards, intensified the play’s shadowy and nocturnal moments. Matt Burke’s lighting played an important role, with spotlights honing the isolation of characters at appropriate times, and the ambience of an urban night evoked using mottled hues of blue, red and yellow. Strobe lighting also added to a significant scene in which the characters are out clubbing - such moments epitomised the aesthetic quality of the play and of Tivnan’s directorial vision, as the production oscillated between fast-paced energy and more cadenced, choreographed action. This reached its climax when Jonah and his friends danced to a DJ “mixing and mashing massive tunes”. In a determined effort to enjoy the night, the actors chanted in unison while their rhythmic movements expressed mounting zeal. Hence, the night club scene took on attributes of political protests or religious rites. Fregoli performed a successful rendition of Walsh’s Disco Pigs last year, and the comparable approach with Breathing Water highlights many parallels between these two works. Like Disco Pigs, this play’s poetic dialogue amplifies the distinct musicality of the Cork accent. Using language and surrealism, both plays contribute to an artistic expression of Cork’s urban identity. It is stylised and poeticised, but instantly recognisable to those familiar with the city’s local culture.

Breathing Water has the power to sweep us away on a dreamlike journey, shifting between children’s and adult’s perspectives and moving rapidly amongst schools, churches, homes, workplaces, pubs and clubs. Fregoli’s energetic approach and Tivnan's skilled direction fulfilled the play’s potential to expose how small the difference is between these various spaces and the ritual acts that they accommodate.


The Sweet Shop - Irish Theatre Magazine 2012

http://itmarchive.ie/web/Reviews/Current/The-Sweet-Shop.aspx.html

Award-winning actress and director Maria Tivnan shows that her skills extend to writing with her new two-hander The Sweet Shop. Here, Tivnan offers a work akin to plays that Fregoli has successfully produced in the past, such as Raymond Scannell’s Breathing Water (2011) and Enda Walsh’s Disco Pigs (2010). Through poetic dialogue, non-sequential vignettes and rapidly changing performance styles, The Sweet Shop weaves together the heartrending story of childhood sweethearts Michael and Cass, and their fraught links to the small Irish town they call home. As such, the play epitomises Fregoli’s penchant for balancing pathos with youthful energy and variety on stage.

Tivnan’s aptly-titled work concerns a longing for seemingly simpler times and a struggle to grow up. The action hinges on the awkward reunion of Michael and Cass who have both returned home due to family obligations. Through flashbacks and narratives we see the characters as children playing in the sweet shop that belongs to Michael’s father. Gradually we learn how their friendship provides a haven from their dysfunctional families, families that eventually contribute to the demise of the characters’ burgeoning romance. The drama is driven by such painful questions as whether it is escapist or healthy to cut ties with home; whether a return to the familiar signifies failure or maturity; and whether the ghosts of our past imprison or enlighten us.

Jarlath Tivnan and Kate Murray were equally impressive as Michael and Cass, adeptly switching between the child, teen and adult versions of these characters. Each injected poignancy into spot-lit soliloquys; in their interactions, they embodied the repression and reticence lying at the play’s core. Under the skilled direction of Maria Tivnan and Rob McFeely, the actors adapted their bodies to the shifting moods of the piece, veering from freeze frames, to stylised slow motion to fast-paced energy. Joe McEvoy’s lighting intensified the production’s diversity, brightly illuminating sudden bursts of emotion while creating softer hues during more tender moments.

The set was bare, apart from a bundle of cushions centre-stage, constructed to look like giant sweets by designer Deirdre McKenna. These were used as props throughout the performance. As Michael and Cass look down at their town after the debs – seeing for once its beauty, through the lens of alcohol – the actors used the cushions strikingly to construct an image of distant rooftops. However, during moments such as these, other tools or the actors' bodies might have been just as effective. Maria Tivnan also distributed caramel cups as audience members exited after the performance. While the taste of the caramel cups added to the sensuous nostalgia of the piece, the presence of pillows disguised as sweets on stage seemed to hammer the title a little too much.

Fregoli maximised the skills of its highly creative production team, but Tivnan’s script stood out as the strongest aspect of the show. Her dialogue is strikingly nuanced, blending moving poetry with humorous vernacular, as well as classical and contemporary references. At one point, she even manages to tease comical, philosophical musing out of the image on a Tayto bag. The Sweet Shop reveals Tivnan’s ability to find immense beauty within modest subject matter; a full-length play from this aspiring dramatist is an exciting prospect. 

http://itmarchive.ie/web/Reviews/Current/Home.aspx.html


Home 2012

Fregoli presents 'Home' as part of the 2012 Galway Theatre Festival.

by Siobhán O'Gorman Reviewed 01 October

Fregoli’s latest work, as its title suggests, meditates on the meaning of home. Through a variety of monologues and vignettes, Home jumps between, and sometimes weaves together, the stories of six well-drawn characters. Ellie (Maria Tivnan) is an agoraphobic novelist living only through her work. An Australian wanderer (Seamus O’Donnell) travels to Ireland in search of his roots and the home his father has sought to repress. Amy (Kate Murray), born into an environment of urban crime, has ended up on the streets. Brendan (Jarlath Tivnan) is a proud, ‘culchie’ farmer who enjoys life’s simple pleasures: tractors, Club rock shandy and Fair City. Daíthí (Oísín Robbins) is a young Irish builder; he works in Australia to support his wife and daughter, as well as pay a mortgage, back home. Karen (Teresa Brennan), his wife, has lost her sense of self to her status as a home-maker.
 
The writing of Home was a collaborative effort, with each member of the cast mostly scripting her/his own lines. Despite this array of creative perspectives, the piece hangs together remarkably well, and the dialogue throughout exhibits Fregoli’s penchant for poetry. While parts of O’Donnell’s and Brennan’s contributions become a little overwrought towards the end, overall, the lyrical rhythms of varying pace balance energy with emotion, entertainment with empathy.
 
The cast occupied a bare set and made imaginative use of minimal props. After Amy and Ellie have forged an unlikely friendship, for example, Murray and Maria Tivnan placed a white rectangular frame between them. This was effective in evoking the actual wall, as well as the wider social structures, that separate these characters. The tentative exchanges between the two offered some of the most moving moments in the production. This was balanced by vivacious scenes of Fregoli’s trademark energy and rapid character changes, such as Brendan’s memory of his first night out with the lads; while Jarlath Tivnan narrated and participated, the rest of the cast, supported by Joe McEvoy and Rob McFeely’s lighting, worked to create the colourful, drink-frenzied atmosphere of an Irish nightclub.
 
Brendan begins as the play’s key source of humour: an entertaining—if reductive—caricature. Yet, as his story develops, he arouses progressively the viewer’s sympathy. His cheerful demeanour dissipates to reveal the pain, grief and immense loneliness associated with his over-dependence on family. Similarly, Oísín Robbins’ Daíthí and Teresa Brennan’s Karen, as well as O’Donnell’s Australian wanderer, serve to complicate romanticised visions of home. The ideals of these characters are shattered by transnational journeys of economic or psychological necessity.

The play as a whole takes us on six, interlinked emotional journeys, gradually delving more poignantly into each character’s home-related neurosis. It presents both hope and loss, reminding us that ‘home’ is defined by shared love, compassion and support rather than a physical structure. In doing so, it calls to mind current issues in Ireland: a country littered with vacant houses and families divided by increasing emigration. The audience was visibly moved by Home, a work that is as immediate as it is vibrant and heart wrenching.


The two characters in Rory O'Sullivan's new play (written with the company) were adopted in their infancy by a 'Storyman' who incited in them a wonderous sense of imagination and fantastical play. It makes great material for Fregoli directors Maria Tivnan and Rob McFeely, whose productions leap and whirl with vigorous choreography. But the ultimate motive of this crooked-nosed Storyman is to use his mantra for the make-believe to blur the truth of a nightmare house, which has sent Anna and Joe into their adulthood distorted and blazing through the streets of Dublin.

As a baby, Joe (Aron Hegarty) was heralded as a child saviour after being found floating in a basket in the Liffey. Now heavily traumatised by his upbringing, he continues his work as a working class hero by giving violent beatings in alleys. When on one night he's reunited with Anna (Kate Murray) - whose own psychological wounds have turned her to prostitution - the great bond between them is restored and enchants a city which has torn them to shreds. They stroll the streets until they come across the damned house where they lived. But perhaps now they can fill it with the treasures of family and love that are more real than fantasy.

Fans of Fregoli could argue that they are covering well-trodden ground; the play is a Dublin incarnation of Enda Walsh's Cork-based dystopic Disco Pigs (which the company memorably produced a few years back) with its extreme sibling relationship and furious flights through the city. But O'Sullivan is his own voice with a script that is as lyrically beautiful as it is bruising, and directors Tivnan and McFeely have measured it to match the speed and energy of their physical performance style. Hegarty hits high and low to register both brutality and tenderness, and Murray is wonderful in her swift stylistic slips between voices and gestures (her crowd observations of Joe's fishing out of the Liffey are hilariously spun).

The brick walls of the Smock Alley Boy School venue adds to the production as we can imagine the action playing out in the Dorset Street house that the characters return to, with barbed wire and purple flowers intermingling in their hurt and beauty as part of Rebecca Ryan's stark set, and safety only suggested by the soft glow of McFeely and Matt Burke's lights.

A scene shocks where Joe viciously beats a "kiddie fiddler" as a raging response to his own abusive history. But where the play alludes to this psychosis it doesn't explore it, and the character risks coming across as extremely apathetic. A similar violence occurs in Disco Pigs but the consequence of it is to convey something tribal. Here the payoff is to create dramatic tension between the two characters and disrupt the notion that they can escape their past. It leaves us with an emotional disconnect with the character for crucial scenes that follow.

But as it whirls towards its cutting conclusion, Dorset Street Toys soars as a flinching piece of new playwriting, a testament to the theatrical authority of Fregoli to take play texts and dizzy them into a storm.

 

Mary Mary Mary- No More WorkHorse, Dublin 2015

Directed by the author and Kate Murray, Mary Mary Mary depicts the lives of three generations of women from some rural hinterland with a rapidly altering series of glimpses into their fears, hopes, prejudices and secret desires.  The Fregoli Theatre Company is the producer and it “takes its name from the Italian actor Leopoldo Fregoli (1867- 1936) and an element of his rapid character changing style can be seen in all [their] productions.” Mary Mary Mary from the moment the lights go up certainly fits this description. The three actors are at the beginning each behind a clothes line with a white towel hanging in front of each of them. Each has the name “Mary” as part of their name. With machine gun pace, they give you snippets of information about themselves. They are each very different. They use the towels to create all sorts of relevant effects to illuminate the text. The only other props they utilise are three fold-up chairs. From these slim pickings, they create a vast number of “happenings” as parts of their lives touch, bond and sometimes clash with each other in the chaos of everyday life.

The actors Mary Ellen (Tracy Bruen), Mary Bernadette (Eimear Kilmartin) affectionately called “Bernie” and Mary Jacqueline (Eilish McCarthy) sometimes called “MJ” combine to give a gripping performance. They perform like a perfectly oil machined- impressive ensemble acting. They are always in complete control of their material.  This Fregoli theatre company production is executed with consummate skill and charm. This is professional work of a high standard. Enjoy!


Pleasure Ground - Irish Times **** stars

https://www.irishtimes.com/culture/stage/theatre/review-pleasure-ground-1.2612358

Imagine The Big Chill performed by the Millennials of small town Ireland. Give it the vigour of more than a decade’s worth of monologue plays, strain it through the ludic nostalgia of Pat McCabe and garnish with humane wit. That, near enough, is the sensation of Fregoli’s play, written by Jarlath Tivnan and directed by Maria Tivnan, a deliberately divided new work that chases one performance style with another.

Following the suicide of their friend David, four twenty-somethings act out during his funeral, each within a separate bubble of self-involvement. There is his jilted childhood friend Evan (Jarlath Tivnan), sour before his time, further put out by “Bog Standard” Brendan (Peter Shine), a gauche young farmer who brays his grief through the church. Both are watched by a profoundly hung-over, professionally bitter shop-girl, Linsey (Kate Murray), still wounded by her family’s decline in fortunes. And lastly there is Aisling (Eilish McCarthy), a London-based actress and David’s ex-girlfriend, who eclipses the others by vomiting on the alter during the eulogy.

The play delivers this all to us in interspersing monologues, enlivened by the physical brio of the ensemble - Children’s wrestling manoeuvres on bales of silage, old crones hassling a distracted Linsey for coleslaw - with the sort of jittery energy of a company that would rather be anything but boring.

That uniform high-pitch creates a din that can be hard to take, though, and it’s some relief, when the performance settles, to discover Brendan’s sustaining affection for Riverdance taken semi-seriously, or a second-act slalom into dialogue-driven naturalism.

These two acts can feel like separate (at times separable) plays, but together they give an unusually thorough study of character. The cast are accomplished at showing these neurotic private selves thawing finally through interaction. It’s also a considered idea to lead an infantilised generation back to the playground, fleetly rendered in Joss Clarke’s design, which becomes an unforced emblem for the arrested development of the community: once buoyed by the Celtic Tiger, it is now losing its youth to emigration or, most tragically, depression.

Tivnan’s play, directed with an engagingly light touch, is finally more optimistic than you might expect (or, in places, accept), but it sketches the damages and potential within this generation with unshowy, vivid insights. These are characters struggling to put away childish things, but still yearning to play, and on some level it knows that life beyond the Pleasure Ground may not be so different: it’s all swings and roundabouts.


Fregoli Heart Project -
Charlie McBride, Galway Advertiser 2019 

A highlight of the opening day of the Cúirt International Festival of Literature was the premiere last night, for one night only, of Fregoli’s captivating new play, 'The Heart Project'.

'The Heart Project' was woven together from open call submissions on the theme of love, in all its guises, sent to the company late last year. In less skilful hands this could have resulted in a sugary hotch-potch but Fregoli delivered an hour-long show that was by turns touching, funny, poignant, joyful, heartfelt and true.

We encountered love in moments of both sunshine and shadow as the four actors –Jarlath Tivnan, Oisin Robbins, Eilish McCarthy and Kate Murray- brought to life ordinary people’s stories that eloquently evoked love of place, romantic love, the love of parents for their kids, memories of cherished relatives, the pain of heartbreak and the rapture of love fulfilled.

While there were many more moments of joy than sorrow, one of the most moving episodes  was the piercing sadness of the story Jarlath Tivnan related from someone whose beloved father was lost in alcoholism and oblivious to the love his child still felt for him. “Grief is love with no place to go,” Tivnan remarked ruefully. 

Another heart-wrenchingly sad story (related by Kate Murray) was from a mother whose infant was stillborn due to severe developmental defects. Yet here, her bereavement was balanced by the supportive love of people around her, both family and sensitive medical professionals, that helped her deal with her deep loss.

There were delightful guest slots from the Bohermore Teen Drama Group, who performed a charming cameo affirming their pride in their neighbourhood, and the youthful African boy and girl dancers of the Eglinton Dance Group. The ebullient input of the Eglinton dancers underlined the positive contribution immigrants make to our society and was a timely reminder that, in these days of growing xenophobia, the world would benefit from showing more Love to those who arrive from other shores.

'The Heart Project' also featured several short recorded voice-overs from original story contributors and these added to the texture of the piece, as did Mark Daniel Kerry’s score and Aisling Conroy’s spare design; softly glowing geometric shapes arranged along the back wall of the set. 

Director Maria Tivnan, assisted by Eimear Finan, and with fine performances from all four actors, fashioned a fluent, multi-faceted and ultimately uplifting play on the theme of Love and on our capacity to both feel and show it. It was a show as warm, life-affirming and soul-gladdening as a good, scrunchy hug. 

Fregoli hope to bring 'The Heart Project' back in September. Don’t miss it.