JOSSIE EVANS escapes revision for an evening and finds it really rather pleasant.
Hatch has been rebirthed by The Marlowe Society and consists of an hour long showcase of new writing talent from Cambridge’s very own burgeoning writers.
The ADC bar offers a laid back space (and an imbibed audience) for writers to test out their poetry, monologues or scenes from longer plays in the making, with a selection of performers putting their words into action.
Hatch is still in its hatchling stages – yes that happened, deal with it. Keeping track of who was who was tricky without a programme or a particularly enthused Mother Hen (compère) for the evening. Though I guess this sustained the very mellow feel of the evening. It might be worth drawing inspiration from those CUMTS at Bar Nights and just print off a few word docs with names of writers, the piece and the performer(s) – if we’re showcasing new writing let’s make sure we make those writers known!
Given the generally high standard of the pieces performed, new writing is something we really should be celebrating and I was pleased to hear Marlowe intend to run Hatch twice a term from Michaelmas.
Poetry was out in force with two poems by Huzra Rizvi making a strong opening to the showcase – particularly her piece on turning twenty. The remnants of lines from Hesham Mashour’s pieces, though slightly lost in performance, are still lodged in my memory. But nailing both writing and performance was Alice Walker. Her “I am Michael Gove” was hauntingly hilarious and left me, along with the rest of the audience, sniggering well into the next piece.
The snippets of scenes from longer plays were pretty hit and miss. Though I’m a little sleepy, I felt the gist of the scene tended to get very much lost out of context and not in a “how intriguing, tell me more” kind of way.
The monologues had more success. The bizarre brilliance of a diabetic’s Nutella dilemma was very funny and just needed to be slowed down a little in performance. At the other end of the scale was Will Bishop’s stunning performance of a heart wrenchingly sad monologue written by Sam Groom. Bishop’s diversity then shone in the next group performance, a cleverly done bible writing group by Gus Mitchell, made even funnier by the wonderfully foul mouthed Emma Veares.
A fair few of the pieces, the night as a whole, and myself all need a little more revision. But The Marlowe Society’s more active presence in Cambridge Theatre is much appreciated when opportunities like Hatch are the result.
Get writing over Summer people, Hatch will be back.