Anticipating our wedding anniversary a week tomorrow we are off to the theatre today.
Life And Beth: Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough
Life And Beth is Alan Ayckbourn's latest play and receiving its world premiere this summer at the Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough.
Director: Alan Ayckbourn
Design: Pip Leckenby
Lighting: Kath Geraghty
Cast:
Beth (Liza Goddard)
Gordon (Adrian McLoughlin)
Martin (Richard Stacey)
Ella (Ruth Gibson)
Connie (Susie Blake)
David (Ian Hogg)
Venue & Booking Details
Venue: Stephen Joseph Theatre, ScarboroughDates: In repertory, 17 July - 30 August, 2008Performance Times: Monday to Saturday at 7.30pm; Saturday at 2.30pm
Bump Weekends (Haunting Julia, Snake In The Grass & Life And Beth): 25-26 July, 1-2, 8-9, 15-16 & 22-23 August. (performance times: Friday @ 7.30pm; Saturday @ 2.30pm and 7.30pm). Ticket Prices: £9 - £18.50Ticket Offer: Bump Weekend Ticket (all the Bump plays) £36Box office: 01723 370541
Website: www.sjt.uk.com / www.thingsthatgobump.co.uk
Life and Beth at the Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough
Sam Marlowe (Times Review)
Christmas has come early to Scarborough in Alan Ayckbourn's new yuletide comedy — the writer's 71st play. Along with a couple of revivals of earlier Ayckbourn works, it forms the Stephen Joseph Theatre's spookily themed Things That Go Bump season. Sadly, though, there is little here to quicken the pulse. Life & Beth is as cosily predictable, and as dated in feel, as a Seventies sitcom. If there is pleasure to be had here, it resides primarily in the comic brio of the cast, and in the odd instance of sharp repartee.
Beth (played by Liza Goddard) was recently bereaved when her overbearing husband, Gordon, a pettifogging health and safety officer, fell from a ladder at work. Facing her first Christmas as a widow, she must also contend with her nerdish, patronising son Martin, his mute, cowed girlfriend Ella, and Gordon's depressive sister Connie (a bitterly funny Susie Blake).
Connie is a particular worry; her taste for red wine has led her, on a previous festive occasion, to attempt to ride the illuminated flashing reindeer that Gordon always insisted on erecting outside the house.
Beth's main source of comfort - the cat, with which Gordon shared a mutual antipathy — has mysteriously gone missing, and a visit from the oleaginous vicar amorously pressing unwelcome spiritual succour upon her is far from welcome.
Just as it seems that things cannot get any worse, the lights fuse — and there, at the head of the table like the apparition of slaughtered Banquo or some nylon-besuited Spirit of Christmas Present, is Gordon's grinning ghost.
There's a dash of Noël Coward's Blithe Spirit to the play, with Beth much put out by her phantom husband's arrival and the vicar acting as a kind of clerical Madame Arcati. The suggestion, in Gordon's account of life after death, that Heaven is like a celestial version of the Civil Service might raise a smile. But even the characters this side of the grave suffer a wraith-like lack of substance, so thinly drawn are they.
Nor do the relationships convince. Ayckbourn implies the tedium and unhappiness of Beth and Gordon's marriage, but offers no explanation about why the perfectly capable and confident-seeming Beth should have tolerated it for so long. Equally, what keeps Martin, clearly following in his father's clod-hoppingly insensitive footsteps, and the miserable Ella together remains a mystery.
Some nifty business with wires and trapdoors lends Ayckbourn's staging the occasional faint frisson of the supernatural, yet the production overall is bedevilled by a serious lack of pace. The actors still succeed in making the best of the lines sting, with Blake's increasingly woozy and rancorous Connie especially diverting. But this is pretty tame entertainment.
Life and Beth
Stephen Joseph, Scarborough
Michael Billington
The Guardian
Alan Ayckbourn's 71st play is full of ghosts: not just spooks, but haunting echoes of themes that have animated his work over 40 years. Presented as part of a supernatural trio in Ayckbourn's last season as director, it feels both like a summing-up and a wise, humane, funny play about the inevitability of death and the continuity of life.
Life and Beth
Stephen Joseph,
Scarborough
YO11 1JW
Until August 30
After 33 years of marriage, Beth has come to terms with the demise of her husband, Gordon. But, in the course of a horrendous family Christmas, she seems the only one who has. Her sister-in-law uses his memory as an excuse to drown in boozy self-pity, while Beth's son camouflages his grief under a bombastic heartiness that reduces his girlfriend to tearful catatonia. But, just as Beth looks ready to embrace a new life, she finds herself subject to a spine-tingling visitation.
What makes the play both comic and touching is Ayckbourn's indignant sympathy for oppressed women. You realise that Beth was cowed by the appalling Gordon, and when his son says "most of the women I've been out with start crying sooner or later", you get an instant image of a grisly inheritance. Few dramatists in history have painted a more devastating picture of the emotional damage wrought by bullying men. Liza Goddard's stoic Beth, however, shows that they can triumph, and there is priceless support from Susie Blake as her sister-in-law and Ian Hogg as a beaming cleric who croons that you should "accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative", which, in the end, is roughly the message of Ayckbourn's life-affirming ghost story
Showing posts with label bereavement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bereavement. Show all posts
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Be risen!
Luke 7.11-17
11Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went with him. 12As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. 13When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, ‘Do not weep.’ 14Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, ‘Young man, I say to you, rise!’ 15The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. 16Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has risen among us!’ and ‘God has looked favourably on his people!’ 17This word about him spread throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.
John Pridmore in "The Church Times"
I think of the first child I buried. Terry, too, was the only son of a widowed mother. He suffered from severe cerebral palsy. He was a total paraplegic and unable to speak. His mother used to trundle him around on a huge cumbersome gurney. In many ways, she was as dependent on him as he on her.
As at Nain, we carried him to where he was to rest. But our sad cortege was not met by another procession coming towards us. We did not meet the Lord of Life on the road from Camborne church to the cemetery, and Terry was not returned alive to his mother.
The death of the only son of the widow of Nain was a triumph of evil, as was the death of Terry, the child I buried all those years ago. Jesus addresses the dead boy with a word that belongs to New Testament’s resurrection vocabulary. We could translate it literally, if clumsily, as "Be risen!" Death’s triumph proves short-lived. Here is Christus Victor. Death has met its match.
Of course, the boy is not raised immortal, any more than Lazarus was, or Jairus’s daughter. Sooner or later, he will be taken out of the town again on the same journey that he was making when Jesus met him. Today the boy is returned to his mother, but tomorrow his dust will return to the earth it was (Ecclesiastes 12.7). Signs must not be confused with what they signify. Both son and mother are still under sentence of death. When the trumpet sounds, it will be another matter.
Meanwhile, every day widowed mothers lose the children on whom they depend, and — we think of the AIDS pandemic in sub-Saharan Africa — countless children lose their widowed or abandoned mothers. Jesus is not there for them in the way he was for the widow of Nain. But we note the response of those who witnessed what he did.
"A great prophet has arisen," they cried. Luke sends us back to the Old Testament. Moses had promised that "The Lord will raise up a great prophet." And Moses had added: "Listen to what he says" (Deuteronomy 18.15).
"Listen to what he says."
We cannot return the dead child to the mother, nor the mother to the orphaned child. But we can shut up and listen. If we do, we shall not be left long in the dark about what to do."
11Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went with him. 12As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. 13When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, ‘Do not weep.’ 14Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, ‘Young man, I say to you, rise!’ 15The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. 16Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has risen among us!’ and ‘God has looked favourably on his people!’ 17This word about him spread throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.
John Pridmore in "The Church Times"
I think of the first child I buried. Terry, too, was the only son of a widowed mother. He suffered from severe cerebral palsy. He was a total paraplegic and unable to speak. His mother used to trundle him around on a huge cumbersome gurney. In many ways, she was as dependent on him as he on her.
As at Nain, we carried him to where he was to rest. But our sad cortege was not met by another procession coming towards us. We did not meet the Lord of Life on the road from Camborne church to the cemetery, and Terry was not returned alive to his mother.
The death of the only son of the widow of Nain was a triumph of evil, as was the death of Terry, the child I buried all those years ago. Jesus addresses the dead boy with a word that belongs to New Testament’s resurrection vocabulary. We could translate it literally, if clumsily, as "Be risen!" Death’s triumph proves short-lived. Here is Christus Victor. Death has met its match.
Of course, the boy is not raised immortal, any more than Lazarus was, or Jairus’s daughter. Sooner or later, he will be taken out of the town again on the same journey that he was making when Jesus met him. Today the boy is returned to his mother, but tomorrow his dust will return to the earth it was (Ecclesiastes 12.7). Signs must not be confused with what they signify. Both son and mother are still under sentence of death. When the trumpet sounds, it will be another matter.
Meanwhile, every day widowed mothers lose the children on whom they depend, and — we think of the AIDS pandemic in sub-Saharan Africa — countless children lose their widowed or abandoned mothers. Jesus is not there for them in the way he was for the widow of Nain. But we note the response of those who witnessed what he did.
"A great prophet has arisen," they cried. Luke sends us back to the Old Testament. Moses had promised that "The Lord will raise up a great prophet." And Moses had added: "Listen to what he says" (Deuteronomy 18.15).
"Listen to what he says."
We cannot return the dead child to the mother, nor the mother to the orphaned child. But we can shut up and listen. If we do, we shall not be left long in the dark about what to do."
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
From beyond the grave
A website has been launched that will allow users to speak to loved ones from beyond the grave.
Messages are stored on www.leavealetter.com in complete confidence and can only be accessed by the writer. After death they can be read by intended recipients.
The site has been founded by two friends after one of them was left a comforting letter by her father after an eight year struggle with cancer. It told the daughter how much her father loved her and how proud he was of her and her family. She advised the friend's husband, who was terminally ill, to do the same for her but unfortunately he left it too late. This encouraged them to provide the service for others
Users open an account with a password that allows them to write up to eight confidential letters. A certificate with information about the site is sent to them that can be kept with their will. On their death, the recipients post or scan a copy of the death certificate to leavealetter.com. Once the death certificate is approved, they are emailed the password which allows them to read and print off the letters.
Is this a good idea? Possibly for some but not for all. What if you want to say things only to one person and never risk them coming into the public arena. For my money far better to say what you have to say to well ahead of no longer being able to say it. I am not sure I want loved ones to go into the future hanging on to a letter thinking they are hanging on to me. Rather let memory do its work as well as it can and let the bereaved move on and the departed rest in peace.
Of course, others may think differently and I am happy for them to do so.
Messages are stored on www.leavealetter.com in complete confidence and can only be accessed by the writer. After death they can be read by intended recipients.
The site has been founded by two friends after one of them was left a comforting letter by her father after an eight year struggle with cancer. It told the daughter how much her father loved her and how proud he was of her and her family. She advised the friend's husband, who was terminally ill, to do the same for her but unfortunately he left it too late. This encouraged them to provide the service for others
Users open an account with a password that allows them to write up to eight confidential letters. A certificate with information about the site is sent to them that can be kept with their will. On their death, the recipients post or scan a copy of the death certificate to leavealetter.com. Once the death certificate is approved, they are emailed the password which allows them to read and print off the letters.
Is this a good idea? Possibly for some but not for all. What if you want to say things only to one person and never risk them coming into the public arena. For my money far better to say what you have to say to well ahead of no longer being able to say it. I am not sure I want loved ones to go into the future hanging on to a letter thinking they are hanging on to me. Rather let memory do its work as well as it can and let the bereaved move on and the departed rest in peace.
Of course, others may think differently and I am happy for them to do so.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Ivy 1911-2007
Ivy was born in Godley Street and her grandmother was the village midwife who also would sit with the dying and share their final hours with them. She was the middle daughter of three and they attended school where the doctor's surgery and the chemist are now situated.
When she left school Ivy first did domestic work for an elderly lady here on Midland Road and an insurance man who lived on Smithy Hill. Then she had two living in jobs with a family at Birkenshaw and the MacIntosh's of toffee fame at Connyngham Hall, Knaresborough.
She met Arthur, her late husband, when he came from Wakefield to work at the local pits. He lodged for a time with Ivy's parents and through the chapel their friendship developed and 75 years ago this year they married. There were many good years together - though some very hard ones too - but sadly Arthur died in 1974 as a result of the toll taken on him by the years down the pits in poor working conditions. They shared a number of homes together in Royston starting in a historic grammar school cottage overlooking the parish church and finishing at 24 High Street at the top of the Green. Home and Chapel were the centre of their lives, Family and Faith what made them tick.
After Arthur's untimely death Ivy soon moved into the Well Hill Grove community where she stayed until she chose to move to the Methodist Home, Priceholme, at Scarborough 5 years ago today. She has had periods of illness in hospital this last couple of years and this last Christmas it was clear that she needed more nursing care than Priceholme could provide and so she went to Beechwood where she died last week. There she has received all the "tender loving care" she needed. An abundance of rich memories and a continuing interest in friends old and new occupied her daily thoughts and conversation right up to her last hours. She knew that journey's end was near and travelled from this world to the next both calm and serene and full of hope in a loving God and a compassionate Saviour.
When she was in hospital in the summer of 2005 she thought she would put a few memories about her life down on paper and she concluded them with these words: "Every night I say 'Thank you, Lord, for carers, friendship, and family. Please make me worthy of it all. Good night!" She loved keeping scrap books and in one of them is this anonymous quotation that clearly meant a great deal to her: "Death is a method that the Lord has chosen to gather the souls of those who by their time on earth have proved worthy to dwell in the land of new birth."
So today, as we lay her body to rest in the soil of her native village, we thank God for his work of grace in Ivy's life and we have no doubt that she is amongst those "proved worthy to dwell in that land of new birth".
May she rest in peace and rise in glory.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN
When she left school Ivy first did domestic work for an elderly lady here on Midland Road and an insurance man who lived on Smithy Hill. Then she had two living in jobs with a family at Birkenshaw and the MacIntosh's of toffee fame at Connyngham Hall, Knaresborough.
She met Arthur, her late husband, when he came from Wakefield to work at the local pits. He lodged for a time with Ivy's parents and through the chapel their friendship developed and 75 years ago this year they married. There were many good years together - though some very hard ones too - but sadly Arthur died in 1974 as a result of the toll taken on him by the years down the pits in poor working conditions. They shared a number of homes together in Royston starting in a historic grammar school cottage overlooking the parish church and finishing at 24 High Street at the top of the Green. Home and Chapel were the centre of their lives, Family and Faith what made them tick.
After Arthur's untimely death Ivy soon moved into the Well Hill Grove community where she stayed until she chose to move to the Methodist Home, Priceholme, at Scarborough 5 years ago today. She has had periods of illness in hospital this last couple of years and this last Christmas it was clear that she needed more nursing care than Priceholme could provide and so she went to Beechwood where she died last week. There she has received all the "tender loving care" she needed. An abundance of rich memories and a continuing interest in friends old and new occupied her daily thoughts and conversation right up to her last hours. She knew that journey's end was near and travelled from this world to the next both calm and serene and full of hope in a loving God and a compassionate Saviour.
When she was in hospital in the summer of 2005 she thought she would put a few memories about her life down on paper and she concluded them with these words: "Every night I say 'Thank you, Lord, for carers, friendship, and family. Please make me worthy of it all. Good night!" She loved keeping scrap books and in one of them is this anonymous quotation that clearly meant a great deal to her: "Death is a method that the Lord has chosen to gather the souls of those who by their time on earth have proved worthy to dwell in the land of new birth."
So today, as we lay her body to rest in the soil of her native village, we thank God for his work of grace in Ivy's life and we have no doubt that she is amongst those "proved worthy to dwell in that land of new birth".
May she rest in peace and rise in glory.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Passion and Resurrection
Mother breathed her last earthly breath at 2.45 a.m. this morning.
May she rest in peace, and rise in glory.
She now breathes the pure air of heaven.
Thanks be to God.
May she rest in peace, and rise in glory.
She now breathes the pure air of heaven.
Thanks be to God.
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