And so, once more, unto the beach… on the hottest day of the year (so far) and our pebbly stage is crowded with barbecuing flesh and the smell of weed is strong in the air. Most of the sunbathers move reluctantly away; some assert their rights to their beach, and we have to work round and over their bags, dogs, shoes, legs… We finally perform Tall Tales!
Crunching implacably from four directions towards our allotted (but not yet empty) performance space, in our costumes: traditional pacamacs in five colours, our props held high, unfazed by the puzzlement all around us…
“…they’re prawns affected by the sea’s plastic bag pollution”
“…they’re different bits of Brighton”
“… something to do with Shakespeare”
Come ON! It’s the Brighton Festival!! It’s bloody ART!!!