Spring

We’re sorry to say that the Forest tour has now come to an end. As Spring comes in, the leaves sprout from the trees and the world wakes up from the winter, we’re packing away our trees, folding up our floorboards and boxing up our conkers and pine cones. We’ve really enjoyed bringing The Forest to venues all across the UK, and want to thank you for following us.

With the show coming to an end, this blog will now be drawing to a close, but you can find out more about our other productions by visiting our website at www.feveredsleep.co.uk, or by following us @FeveredSleep on Twitter or by searching for us on Facebook. There’s always more exciting and beautiful things being planned, so keep an eye out for us – we’d love to see you again.

The forest treasure hunt will remain live for a few more weeks – so if you haven’t had the chance to go and find the treasure we’ve hidden near you, then get cracking!

It’s been a great pleasure keeping you updated with all of our work over the last few months, and we hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as we have.

Best wishes,

The Fevered Sleep team.

Research Notes

As you can read in Sam Butler’s post from last week, there’s a long process of research and development that goes on before we bring a show out on tour. As a part of that process, it’s important to get an idea of how an audience will react to the work, especially when it’s for children. When we were putting The Forest together, we brought a version of the performance to an audience of children at Sadler’s Wells, to see what they thought. The experience was interesting: it clarified some things, and raised questions about others. So that you can see what kind of reactions we got, and what kind of lessons can be learned by watching and listening to your audience, here are some notes we made at that session, which informed how we developed the production.

The introduction felt important today: after I’d announced us all, it felt like the children knew who they were watching, and that made it easier to watch abstract material. (Is this true? Does it make it easier? Did they feel like they knew us?). Do we need to think about an introduction of sorts in the performance?

There were giggles of embarrassment at the start: they weren’t sure how to react to the abstract. But, the embarrassment gave way to interest when there was contact between the audience and the performers: when they were invited in to the movement.

The pleasure of unison: a real reaction to the moment where everyone came together to do an impressive move (the roll with the cane).

These are children at the age of cartwheels and handstands and big competitive rollings-around in the playground.

There’s pleasure in the puzzle: pleasure in watching the performers working something out.

Danger - something that is not understood, something that is strange, is potentially frightening: the rhythms of approach, proximity, speed between the performers and audience. But there is also potential for a great excitement in the games that come with this. The danger and pleasure of the canes being dropped close to the audience, of big moves close by. Danger: the audience’s pleasure in big moves and impressive things.

Pleasure in material things, in stuff: the canes, the elastic, the balls - a real attention to detail in how these things are handled.

There’s a great desire to touch the elastic - do we allow this?

There’s a great desire to enter the space - do we allow this?

A real interest in complex patterns, and complications (entanglement).

The traverse was good. There was no sense of the other half of the audience being a distraction. The focus was entirely on the performers.

The moments of silence bring us back to the here and now. The natural sounds were noticed and commented on.

A comment “I didn’t understand it” at the end. it’s good to take children to a place where the relationship to the work is not necessarily about understanding, but is more about a physical, sensory, visual experience. But how do we let an audience of this age know that not understanding is OK?

Research and Development

When making our pieces for children, as with all our work, we take a long time….

We take a long time talking, playing, observing and listening to children. We work in schools, and in nurseries and we have a number of schools who regularly help us in our endeavour to make the best work we can. For ‘The Forest’ we asked some schools “would you mind if we took some of your young people to play in a forest?”. Those open-minded schools which agreed to our unusual request provided us with some of our most useful material which informed the piece as you see it today. We ran some workshops with the children first, inside. We wanted to find out what the word ‘forest’ conjured up in their minds, we wanted to see what they imagined and brought to life for themselves with minimal input from us. Its here we discovered the huge range of understanding and experiences of forests; it is clear plenty of children had never been to a forest in the UK; for some it meant lions and monkeys and tigers…for others logs and streams and trees and leaves…for others who were born outside the UK they saw snakes and spiders and exotic birds. What was pleasing though, was that for all of them it meant movement: running, jumping, spinning, climbing, leaping and so from the start we knew that is was right to be making a piece about forests that was a piece of dance.


Then we all got into their minibus and went to a forest and when we arrived this is what happened:


Running off, staying together, walking slowly, worrying about dirt, loving dirt, touching bark, looking up, jumping over muddy puddles, worrying about getting wet, trying to get wet, making leaf piles, jumping into leaf piles, throwing leaves, catching leaves, pointing out strange twisty trees, climbing on fallen dead trees, pretending to be trees swaying, pretending to be trees falling down, lying on the ground looking at the sky, picking things up, collecting pine cones, collecting sticks, collecting twigs, collecting leaves, collecting beetles, making paths, standing still, lying on leaves, poking insects, running away from spiders, chasing people with insects, following insects, watching insects crawl over the ground, over their hands, pointing at spider threads hanging in the sunlight, building fires, looking for bears, looking for werewolves, looking for owls, looking for chipmunks, calling out, chirping, tweeting, howling, hooting, growling…


and if you look carefully you can see most of this in ‘The forest’.


Samantha Butler, Director

The creators of The Forest explain a little more about the show - who it’s for, what it’s about, and the lovely things you might discover within it.

The look and feel of a show is very important to us, which is why we spend most of our rehearsal period performing on the fully-built set, to make sure all the elements work as they should. While the performers are busily perfecting their movements, the stage managers are working just as hard to look after the conkers, leaves, lights, pine cones and real trees that make up our forest, to make sure everything is exactly right.

As the design of a show is so important to our company, we do as much of our rehearsals as possible on the completed set. These are some photographs taken from the last few rehearsals before we began our tour, performing with leaves, lights, string, and of course our real trees.

The forest teaches me…

The forest teaches me about permanence and about time

The forest teaches me about impermanence and the brevity of summer

The forest teaches me about stillness and the solidity of trees

The forest teaches me about the giddy dance of wind and light

The forest teaches me about darkness and about not knowing

The forest teaches me about change

The forest is forever and is gone and the leaves dance an electric dance as they flare and colour and fade and dry and die

The Forest creators David Harradine and Sam Butler talk about the show, why they love it and why they think you will too! 

The forest is a presence. It witnesses our getting lost. It watches us. It is protective, a shelter, and it is threatening, a trap.

The forest is a presence. It witnesses our getting lost. It watches us. It is protective, a shelter, and it is threatening, a trap.