#StoryGivesBack Winners Announced!

I am absolutely delighted that my tiny theatre company, Shadow Road Productions, has just been announced as one of the two winners of this year's #StoryGivesBack initiative from Story Events!

Following the online vote, first by previous visitors to Story's renowned London Christmas Party Show and then by the wider public, we have been named as one of the two boutique suppliers they would most like to meet! As a result, our prize is the offer of a free stand at the 2021 show on the 7th and 8th September, so that they can do just that!

You can read more about the company and the show - and find out how to register to visit yourself - on the #StoryGivesBack page on their website.

As some of you may already be aware, Shadow Road is a small independent theatre company which specialises in bringing exciting pieces of theatre for all ages and occasions to unusual venues and spaces in creative new ways. Our work usually involves a charitable aspect of some kind – raising awareness or funds - or, as with Fireside Folktales in particular, taking live entertainment out to people who might not otherwise have the opportunity to enjoy it.

We are now aiming to branch out into events, corporate entertainment, and private parties – offering something original and exciting to these markets and, in turn, enabling us to fund more of our voluntary and charity work elsewhere. Winning this competition is a wonderful opportunity for us to meet many of the people who could help us take those next steps into the future and we can't wait to show everyone the fantastic entertainment – festive and otherwise – that we have to offer!

A Christmas Carol

A Fireside Folktales Performance 

Winter 2019/2020

Adapted & Directed by Emma King-Farlow

“If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.” 

 Ebenezer Scrooge is a mean, miserly loner, destined to spend his afterlife making up for all the mistakes he made on earth – until, that is, a chilling encounter with the spectre of his late business partner, Jacob Marley, sets him on a different path.  Can Marley’s ghost – and those of Christmas Past, Present and Future – transform the unfortunate Scrooge in time, or is it already too late to save him?   

Variously described as ‘intimate’, ‘uplifting’ and ‘deeply moving’, this celebrated production has been a big hit with audiences across London and will return this Christmas.

After an extremely successful 2019 summer season, we were delighted to premiere this winter
production with previews at The Coach & Horses in Barnes, followed by a special, candlelit performance at the remarkable Southside House.  We were then privileged to visit a number of cancer support centres and care homes, including The Mulberry Centre, Teenage Cancer Trust and Brinsworth House, to stage some voluntary performances for patients and their families in December 2019 and January 2020 - something we plan to do again this Christmas, circumstances allowing!

To book a performance for your own venue, private event, school, library or care home, please contact us at firesidefolktales@gmail.com or drop me a line via the Contact Form in the sidebar!

REVIEWS:

~ Thank you for a brilliant & professional performance this afternoon. The changes of emotions & clothing with such integrity of acting was quite moving. So pleased to be with you - a gem of an afternoon! - John P

~ A beautiful production! Very emotional. Well done - Michelle

 ~ Really talented bunch, a really impressive interpretation & dramatisation - so creative with the props and the overall format.  Brilliant & congratulations! - Anonymous, Southside House

 ~ This was amazing, would love to view again - J Zaman

~ I loved it!  Utterly magical.  Thank you. - Anonymous, Southside House

 ~ This was an excellent production. I found myself entirely engrossed in the tale. Well done! - Jim

 ~ Such an innovative and engaging performance! My 4 year-old son and I enjoyed it - and we especially loved the future spirit and the magical tunes! - A.V.Elliot

 

~ Wow! Thanks you were wonderful - Lili L

~ A beautiful programme - very moving and the puppets /spirit of christmas yet to come were amazing. My friends' teenage daughter joined us and she loved the performance as well. - Yvonne, Southside House

~ Simply wonderful afternoon and I hope to see more of what you do come Easter? - Françoise G

 

~ Stunning and talented. Thank you - Anonymous 

Hello Again & Happy Christmas!

We all know that one of the definitions of insanity is 'doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results'.  I will understand, therefore, if anyone's tempted to call me insane upon learning that, after a few years' away from it, I'm thinking about giving this blogging lark a bit of a go again.  I, however, remain happily assured of my own sanity since I am, much to my own disappointment, not really expecting different results.  As ever, though, I remain open to the possibility of being pleasantly surprised... ;-)

In keeping with ancient (at least on this blog!) tradition, I am posting a poem for Christmas.  In these turbulent times, this one - in which Longfellow acknowledges the depths of the darkness he sees in the world around him but goes on to speak of the eventual triumph of the light over it - struck a particular chord with me.  I hope you enjoy reading it and I wish you a very Happy Christmas. :-)

CHRISTMAS BELLS

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
 

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

 

And thought how, as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

 

Till ringing, singing on its way,

The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

 

Then from each black, accursed mouth

The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

 

It was as if an earthquake rent

The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

 

And in despair I bowed my head;

"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

 

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men."

 

 

Happy Christmas 2011!

A Child of the Snows
G.K. Chesterton (1874-1936)

There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim,
And never before or again,
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,
And the dark is alive with rain.

Never we know but in sleet and in snow,
The place where the great fires are,
That in the midst of the earth is a raging mirth
And the heart of the earth is a star.

And at night we win to the ancient inn
Where the child in the frost is furled,
We follow the feet where all souls meet
At the inn at the end of the world.

The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red
For the flame of the sun is flown;
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.

I hope everyone has had a very
HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

Happy Christmas 2009!

A Christmas Carol
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)

The shepherds went their hasty way,
And found the lowly cattle shed
Where the virgin mother lay:
And now they checked their eager tread,
For to the Babe, that at her bosom clung,
A mother's song the virgin mother sung.

They told her how a glorious light,
Streaming from a heavenly throng,
Around them shone, suspending night!
While sweeter than a mother's song,
Blest Angels heralded the Saviour's birth:
“Glory to God on high! and peace on earth!”

She listened to the tale divine,
And closer still the babe she pressed:
And while she cried, “The Babe is mine!”
The milk rushed faster to her breast:
Joy rose within her like a summer morn:
Peace, peace on earth! The Prince of Peace is born!

Thou mother of the Prince of Peace,
Poor, simple, and of low estate!
That strife should vanish, battle cease,
O why should this thy soul elate?
Sweet music's loudest note, the poet's story,
Didst thou ne'er love to hear of fame and glory?

And is not War a youthful king,
A stately hero clad in mail?
Beneath his footsteps laurels spring;
Him earth's majestic monarchs hail
Their friend, their playmate! And his bold, bright eye
Compels the maiden's love-confessing sigh.

Tell this in some more courtly scene,
To maids and youths in robes of state!
I am a woman poor and mean,
And therefore is my soul elate.
War is a ruffian, all with guilt defiled,
That from the aged father's tears his child!

A murderous fiend, by fiends adored,
He kills the sire and starves the son;
The husband kills, and from her board
Steals all his widow's toil had won;
Plunders God's world of beauty; rends away
All safety from the night, all comfort from the day.

Then wisely is my soul elate,
That strife should vanish, battle cease:
I'm poor and of a low estate,
The mother of the Prince of Peace.
Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn:
Peace, peace on Earth! The Prince of Peace is born!

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

Happy Christmas!

An Extract from Christmas
Sir John Betjeman (1906-1984)

And is it true? And is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window's hue,
A Baby in an ox's stall?
The Maker of the stars and sea

Become a Child on earth for me?

And is it true? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,

Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,

No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this simple truth compare -
That God was Man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

A Bookaholic's Christmas

Over the last couple of months it has become all too clear that 12 Step Programmes are of no use to me - abstinence only makes the heart grow fonder, I'm afraid. My name is Emma King-Farlow and I'm more of a bookaholic than ever!

After a relatively short but painful period of Book-Buying Deprivation, the last month's vital statistics are as follows:

Books In: Far, far too many! (Let me detail the ones I can remember - Books from a second hand stall at a local Christmas Market: 7, Books on my own and other people's library cards: 31, Books from The Book People: 2 large orders, Books on order from Amazon: 16, Books from assorted other places: 17.)

Books Out: 3 (Erm, in the sense that I took three books back to the library, that is. The fact that I brought 5 more home to replace them negated my triumph somewhat, but what can I say - it's a start, no?)

For those who may be wondering about the state of my sagging shelves, worry not. Shelves are no longer an issue since I have no more to offer. My newly arrived volumes are, I shudder to say it, homeless. They have formed their own little cliques and commandeered various corners of my study, patches of carpet and sections of desktop. There they mutter mutinously to one another about the kind of people who just 'go ahead and buy them' without giving any thought to matters of accommodation!

I dread to think how annoyed they're going to be when the Christmas crowd joins them... ;-)




P.S. In honour of the season, I have also added a 'Festive Fun' page to my website. If you find yourself in possession of a few spare moments or you are feeling particularly bored, you might like to amble over there and tackle the Christmas-themed wordsearch and crossword.

Answers will appear in January.

Happy Hallowe'en!

THE HAG
Robert Herrick (1648)

The Hag is astride,
This night for to ride;
The Devil and she together:
Through thick, and through thin,
Now out, and then in,
Though ne’er so foul be the weather.

A Thorn or a Burr
She takes for a Spur:
With a lash of a Bramble she rides now,
Through Brakes and through Briars,
O’er Ditches, and Mires,
She follows the Spirit that guides now.

No Beast, for his food,
Dares now range the wood;
But hush't in his lair he lies lurking:
While mischiefs, by these,
On Land and on Seas,
At noon of Night are a working,

The storm will arise,
And trouble the skies;
This night, and more for the wonder,
The ghost from the Tomb
Affrighted shall come,
Called out by the clap of the Thunder.

I have to admit that I'm not a huge fan of Hallowe'en these days. The mini trick or treaters tottering around the neighbourhood with one or more suitable adults in tow are sweet enough, but there are always those few absurdly large and suspiciously old callers (please, you probably earn more than me - by the look of it, you might even be older than me - and yet still you're here demanding sweets/cash/my first-born child...) who seem to consider the entire festival a licence to solicit various goods with menaces.

The whole thing reminds me of another set of unwelcome visitors whose company we can expect to enjoy in the not-too-distant future: Bad Carol Singers. Now, I've got absolutely nothing against good carol singers - I've even been one myself on numerous occasions - but I'm afraid that the bad ones make me want to do extremely unseasonal things, both to them and to anyone else unfortunate enough to stray across my path at the time of their visit.

These caterwauling carollers hammer away at the door until you open it - no use hiding in the back room and waiting for the tenacious blighters to go away - and then regale you with three or four terrifyingly tuneless lines of 'Good King Wenceslas', before holding out their hands for payment. Muttering with resentment, you rootle out a quid or two and press it into their palms, all the while cursing yourself for your weakness and praying that you've given them enough to make them go away. After all, that is what you're paying them for - leaving. It's the 'leaving' that makes surrendering your money so worthwhile, not the 'music' that precedes it. As for where that money might be going, well, I usually find it advisable not to ask - discretion being the better part of valour and all that.

However, I digress. My 'atrocious carol singers' rant is several weeks premature (rather like those chocolate advent calendars that have adorned supermarket shelves since mid-to-late September) and I have sweets to pile by the door, pumpkins to carve and spooky lighting to arrange. Let the annual onslaught of witches, monsters and assorted other mythical creatures begin...

From Ghosties and Ghoulies
And long-leggity Beasties
And all things that go bump in the night -
Good Lord, deliver us!
Anon

Happy Hallowe'en!

It's Not Over Yet

Well, would you look at this? I've made it past the first post. Whatever happens next, I am at least not doomed to be a one-post wonder. The next goal is to get into double figures, and then maybe we'll look at setting some slightly more ambitious targets...

We're now three days into a new year, and three days from the official end of Christmas on January 6th – Twelfth Night, or Epiphany. All Christmas decorations are supposed to be taken down by midnight on that day, or else... I'm not certain what exactly is supposed to happen to you if you fail to meet this deadline, I only know that it is, without doubt, Very Bad Indeed. The mere thought of a single bauble or sprig of holly staying up even a minute past midnight is enough to give my mother serious palpitations. Though, admittedly, she is a 'Get those shoes off the table, there’ll be a row!', 'There may well be enough rain to drown the Sahara out there – you still can’t open that umbrella until you’re at least six feet clear of the front door, understand?', 'What do you mean, you just left the penny lying on the floor – do you have any idea what you’ve done?!' kind of person.

Anyway, in order to avoid the aforementioned palpitations, I shall clear the house of all things sparkly, shiny, evergreen, or in any way festive, by about 5 pm on Sunday. The only room to escape this yuletide purge will be the dining room, since we have a family tradition of enjoying a good Twelfth Night Dinner to mark the end of Christmas. We eat a delicious meal, in a room still twinkling with fairy lights and bedecked with tinsel, holly and cards, and each receive one last Christmas present, usually something that you might have wanted for Christmas but did not receive on the day itself. Then, after dinner, the dining room, too, is cleared and the last decorations packed away. Christmas is officially over and the New Year begins in earnest.

Until then, as far as I’m concerned, it's still Christmas time. And no amount of those garishly coloured Easter Eggs, already evident in an alarming number of shop windows, will convince me otherwise.