IN CONVERSATION WITH: Gwithian Evans and Marie Williams

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Gwithian Evans and Marie Williams to discuss their upcoming performance in knife-violence centred double bill ‘He Said/She Said’.

He Said/She Said runs from 21st April-2nd May at The White Bear Theatre – Tickets here


Both plays centre on perpetrators rather than victims — how did you each navigate finding empathy for characters who commit acts of violence without excusing them?

Gwithian: I always try to be curious about everything, rather than judge or condemn. What Richie does in the play is extreme, but it’s fascinating to learn about why he reacted in the way that he did and what led him to that moment. It’s through that curiosity I’m able to find empathy for him. I certainly don’t forgive him, but I can at least understand him more. It’s a valuable lesson in how we treat people in real life as well. Be curious. Also, it’s reassuring to know that Richie is a character in a play, and I will only step into that mindset for a short period of time.

Geebs: For me, firstly take away the label ‘perpetrator’ and call the person ‘someone who has committed X offence’. As soon as I have the instinct to judge, I remind myself to be specific. Instead of saying “Her is a bad person” for example, I try to make factual statements: “Her makes impulsive decisions, she shows a disconnection from the reality of what she has done and often lies”. Being more specific, provokes questions which builds a more detailed picture of a person rather than a binary image of a ‘villain’.

These are intense solo pieces; what techniques did you develop to sustain psychological tension and keep the audience complicit throughout a monologue?

Gwithian: For the majority of the play, Richie addresses the audience, which immediately increases the intensity. Looking people in the eye, very unnerving. The White Bear is an intimate space, so that’ll help to further intensify that. I did a play called ‘DIG’ in 2020 where it was myself and another actor performing to 10 audience members… in a shipping container. That setting alone created more than enough atmosphere. If you want to create tension and engagement, you’ve got to think about the space and the audience in it.

Geebs: Remains to be seen! I imagine that once in the flow of performance, the intensity will come from connection with the audience.

Knife crime is a very real and contemporary issue — how conscious were you of the social resonance of the work while shaping your performances?

Gwithian: This is veering into a spoiler zone so I’ll tread with caution. Whilst both plays have a knife and a crime, they’re not about the wider systematic issue of knife crime in the UK. My focus for ‘Misconduct’ is the character of Richie and his story, which just happens to have a crime involving a knife.

Geebs: I always aim to assess how a show might speak to an audience and how it might be seen in the context of today. I am mindful of not over sensationalising the violence, and asking myself,where appropriate, “is my choice coming from a place of truth?”. On the flip side, there are some very heightened moments in this piece and I don’t want to shy away from the text which at some points is very shocking and intentionally, comedic.

Your characters justify their actions in very different ways — where did you locate the moments of self-deception versus genuine belief?

Gwithian: Writer, Dom Riley, has done an excellent job of detailing where Richie goes back and forth between denial and delusion. Richie will often repeat the same phrase over and over again to convince others and mostly himself of the truth his trying to fabricate. At the time of writing these answers we haven’t entered the rehearsal space, but I know that these moments will have a spotlight on them.

Geebs: There are several moments of self-deception throughout Ladykiller; these were quite easy to locate for me (but of course that is only my interpretation of the text) – I won’t give them away.

How did you approach building the inner lives of these characters beyond the text, particularly in moments where silence or stillness carries the weight?

Gwithian: My approach is similar to all plays I do: Go with instinct. There is always a great deal of planning to be done for the Actor before rehearsals, however I believe too much prep can hinder and stop new ideas emerging. If I arrive to rehearsals with a fully formed character, I have nowhere to go and I will almost certainly find conflict when working with the text. Acting is all about playing and the ‘play’ happens inside the rehearsal room, not before.

Geebs: I concentrate on the things that Her can see immediately in that moment, and I ask myself what does that trigger in her inner world? I have formed my own images of the people in her life that I bring to life in my own head to build her inner world.

As a double bill, the pieces speak to each other — did engaging with the other performance influence or shift your own interpretation in rehearsal?

Gwithian: We had a readthrough not too long ago and that really helped to understand how these two plays complement each other. It’s important that they stand alone as two separate plays, with only their theme of violence connecting them. However, both pieces have contrasting energies, and I think Claire’s decision to put Misconduct first is a wise one. Misconduct is a runaway train, a burst of energy. Ladykiller is calculating, methodical and disturbing. I realised in the readthrough how Misconduct serves Ladykiller, almost like a warm-up act.

Geebs: I’m sure it will do. Gwithian is a wonderful performer, and a great listener. I think if the pieces are truly speaking to each other, which I hope they will be, we will feed off of each other’s performance.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Aldous Ciokajlo-Squire

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Aldous Ciokajlo-Squire, writer and performer of ‘6:24’, a raw portrayal of the euphoric experiences we have at raves.

‘6:24’ returns to The Sainsbury Theatre and MishMash Festival on Sunday 19th April- Tickets here


What drew you to capturing rave culture on stage, and what truth about it felt most urgent to tell?

Your emotions can feel like they’re bouncing off the walls at a rave. They feel impulsive and deep. I was once told that London accentuates whatever you’re feeling. If you’re feeling great then everything is great, if you’re feeling low, then it can all feel overwhelming. I think raves can often make you feel that same thing. You can literally be falling in love with someone whilst your heart is beaming in the crowd full of people dancing, or you can feel incredibly alone, surrounded by strangers. I really wanted to capture this feeling on stage and felt like it lent itself hand in hand with rave culture.

We’re in a time where the world is in a tense place. This play is not to distract people from what is going on, but to hopefully make people realise how delicate those around you can be.

How did working from “true events” shape the emotional honesty and boundaries of 6:24?

When I was younger, raves were the destination to go to. I’d go with what felt like everyone I knew in north London, rock up with a fiver for entry, dance all night with people I love and I’d feel for a split second time stood still. They were freeing, risky and full of life, so when I was writing this play, I wanted to capture the honest emotions those spaces offer. Everything that happens in the play is based on a true experience that I’ve either encountered, or witnessed, which has helped ground the world and characters in it.

The play centres on euphoria—what interested you in exploring what lies just beneath that high?

Raves have always had a funny way of bringing my emotions to the surface and making the outside world feel quiet for a brief moment. Euphoria is such a visceral feeling, an out of body experience where you get to just experience life in it’s fullest, making me feel incredibly present. I didn’t know how prominent this feeling would be when I was writing 6:24, but as I explored it further, I discovered so much more depth in all the characters. We all experience it in different ways, in different places, and for me, this is it.

How do movement and physicality help express what words can’t in the world of 6:24?

I feel like we often don’t say what we really want to in life. We hold back and have a fear of not being understood. I’ve seen it happen countless times, where someone finally plucks up the courage, using the energy of the night out to say what they’ve buried deep inside themselves. Just like in musicals, where they sing when words are no longer enough, the movement in this play challenges the trio to do exactly that, channel their emotions through their body.

What does 6:24 suggest about friendship at that fragile point between youth and adulthood?

The play is told through the lens of Felix, who has a desire to relive his most exciting days, his youth. He fears the reality of his twenties passing him by as someone who’s been forgotten about and when he reconnects with Lilly & Stephano, his whole world speeds up again, yet he’s still trying to obtain the same feeling he felt all those years ago.

When we’re young, the world feels massive, full of possibilities and as you get older, it becomes more streamlined. There’s people who were in my life growing up that I thought would always be there, but as time has passed, life has pulled us in different directions. The trio still has their deep rooted connections to each other, but the responsibility of growing up has clouded their youth. Something that they’re all trying to find again.

Returning to the piece after MishMash 2024, how has your perspective on the story evolved?

It’s very surreal to me how much this play has grown over the past couple of years. It started as a 10 minute piece in 2022, then a 40 minute piece in 2024 and now it’s the 3rd edition and the longest version it’s been. We’ve been able to explore all of the characters’ backstories further, and because of that, I feel like my whole perspective has shifted and the purpose of what we’re saying is clearer.

It’s vibrant and full of joy, but also goes through deep sadness at points. It should take you on a journey where you want to dance with us right there on stage and then the next moment curl up in your seat. It’s unapologetic, reckless and full of heart, all of which were in the core story in previous editions, but the heart has grown in so many ways.

FEATURE: A Summer of Range and Renewal at Cambridge Arts Theatre

Following its major redevelopment and reopening in late 2025, Cambridge Arts Theatre enters its Summer 2026 season with a clear sense of momentum — and a programme that reflects both confidence in its heritage and an ambition to broaden its appeal.

The result is a season that balances well-known productions and established talent with more contemporary, diverse programming designed to attract a wider audience.

A strong foundation of classic and contemporary theatre

The season features a number of high-profile productions, including Tamzin Outhwaite in Abigail’s Party, Tracy-Ann Oberman in Noël Coward’s Present Laughter, and Martin Shaw in A Man For All Seasons.

Alongside these, audiences can expect new and returning productions that have built strong reputations with younger and more varied theatre-goers. Highlights include Operation Mincemeat, the Olivier Award-winning musical, and Showstopper! The Improvised Musical, which brings a more spontaneous, interactive energy to the programme.

Expanding the audience experience

Beyond traditional theatre, the Arts Theatre is placing a clear emphasis on variety. The comedy programme includes well-known names such as Stewart Lee, Michelle Wolf, and Phil Wang, while literary collaborations with the Cambridge Literary Festival will bring authors including Zadie Smith and Elif Shafak to the stage.

Musical theatre also plays a significant role this season, with productions such as Six, Barnum, and Catch Me If You Can offering a mix of established hits and high-energy performances.

A continued focus on accessibility and families

Family programming remains a key part of the theatre’s offer, with productions including The Gruffalo, The Cat in the Hat, Horrible Histories, and Dog Man: The Musical.

The theatre is also extending its reach beyond its main venue through its Pop-Up Adventures initiative, bringing performances such as The Tale of the Loneliest Whale into community spaces across Cambridge.

Honouring tradition while looking ahead

The return of the Cambridge Greek Play, with Euripides’ Ion, continues a long-standing university tradition dating back to 1882, offering a distinctive cultural experience within the programme.

At the same time, new adaptations of literary works — including The Spy Who Came in From the Cold and War of the Worlds — demonstrate a continued interest in reimagining familiar stories for contemporary audiences.

A theatre in its next chapter

As the Arts Theatre builds on its recent £16 million transformation, this season signals a venue that is both consolidating its reputation and evolving its identity.

With a programme that combines established favourites, new interpretations, and a broader mix of events, the Summer 2026 season reflects a theatre positioning itself for long-term relevance — rooted in tradition, but responsive to changing audiences.

Look at all the dates and get tickets here!

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Eliane Correa

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Eliane Correa. Acclaimed Cuban-British pianist, composer and cultural ambassador. Eliane recently toured with Hans Zimmer, and will be curating a special show celebrating the centenary of Celia Cruz with an all-female salsa band. Elaine performs at the Jazz Cafe on 25th April. Tickets are available here.

La Linea, London’s biggest and longest running Latin music festival, runs from 20th April – 6th May. Tickets here


What does celebrating Celia Cruz’s centenary with an all-female salsa band mean to you personally as a Cuban artist working across cultures?

I’m very grateful that I’ve been given the opportunity to put together such a stellar lineup of fantastic musicians who also happen to be women. We lack visibility, so I decided to prioritise doing this with just women as a public statement. I hope this is the first of many shows we do as Las Salseras. I would love to keep this project going.

I’m as much Cuban as I am Argentinian, European, and now also a Londoner. My entire life has been about working across cultures and looking to create space for multicultural exchange. Celia Cruz herself moved to the USA from Cuba at 35 years old and met salseros from other Latin American and Latin diasporic cultures and communities, which contributed to her unique sound without making her expression any less Cuban.

Having toured with Hans Zimmer, how has moving between cinematic worlds and salsa stages reshaped your understanding of musical storytelling?

This is a great question. I think it’s made me think about cultural decoding a lot: for example, the way a Cuban audience receives and reacts to a Cuban “salsa” orchestra is quite different from the way it’s received by a London audience, and then if you put this same band in Kinshasa, Calcutta, or Miami, the audience reactions will be different.

Whether we like it or not, musics that aren’t “mainstream” (which is quite a Western-centric concept in itself, by the way!) can be interpreted in wildly different ways depending on what the listener’s “cultural decoding tools” are saying. I think cinematic music and pop music are genres that unite us all across cultures: the way we understand them around the world is relatively similar.

I think I’ve started keeping this in mind more when I compose music, arrange, or select and shape a repertoire. In some of my projects, I keep this idea of who am I putting this together for at the forefront. In my personal original projects, though, I just write from my heart, and it’ll be what it’ll be—I relinquish control over how it will be received.

A project such as this homage to the Queen of Salsa at the Jazz Café has me asking myself: how do I best do justice to her rich, amazing legacy for the audience—not for me with my Cuban-Argentinian-European ear, but for the people who will be at this show to have an amazing experience where they leave sweaty, happy, with their hearts full of music and a renewed love for Celia.

Salsa has historically been male-dominated—what barriers still exist for women, and how are projects like Las Salseras actively dismantling them?

We have to keep in mind that the struggle for equality is a recent occurrence within the wider frame of history. It’s normal that salsa, having grown in the mid-to-late twentieth century, has been male-dominated throughout most of its history and still is today.

We’re just part of a process that is still a work in progress, which is why it’s important to create spaces for women to thrive in, just as is happening in STEM and other male-dominated fields. Of course there is a barrier, because this is all still quite new, and everything new requires a reconfiguring of public perception.

Las Salseras is just a small part of a bigger push to normalise our presence in all spaces and level out the historical imbalance.

How do platforms like La Línea change the visibility and career trajectories of female Latin musicians in the UK and Europe?

This year La Línea has an unprecedented number of female artists in its lineup. Again, all this does is counterbalance the normalised standard of male-dominated line-ups—without compromising on quality (this is very important!). We are not tokens—we turn up and we deliver.

The volume of high-quality female and female-led acts in La Línea this year makes the statement that we belong, and that there is room for us to simply exist and do our thing in spaces that have historically been populated by a majority of men.

Every time there’s a group of women making music on a stage, it’s a small grain of sand of visibility added to the process of normalising our presence. It’s great, and I love that I’ve been given a chance to be a small part of this process.

When curating an all-female ensemble, what values or energies are you prioritising beyond technical excellence?

Actually, it’s just technical excellence, which in my opinion includes understanding the musical language we are operating in. I don’t really believe in “feminine energy,” etc. I just want to play with really, really good musicians who bring good vibes, and I put Las Salseras together to counterbalance the lack of female presence in our scene.

I dream of a world where women are no longer bearing the weight of the differential—where it’s completely normal to have a killer salsa band that just happens to be all women (and never, ever have to hear “you play like a man” again!).

What do you hope younger Latina musicians in London take away from seeing this tribute on a major festival stage?

Without visibility, it’s hard for younger generations of female Latin musicians to even internalise that this is something to aspire to. We’re hoping that this can be a small step in paving the path for younger Latin women musicians to take up space and see this as something realistic to achieve.

And also, for them to continue making more space for future generations beyond the reach that we have right now—the way Celia did for us back in the day.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Emme Hensel

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Emme Hensel, co-principal flautist for the National Youth Orchestra’s Spring tour ‘Collide’.

Dates and times for Collide are 9th April 2026 at The Bridgewater Hall, Manchester, and 11th April at Royal Festival Hall, London, both at 7:30pm – Tickets here


Collide explores huge themes like love, courage and conflict. As a musician, how does it feel to bring such powerful stories to life through your flute?

Being able to bring such powerful stories to life through my flute feels almost like I am becoming the characters in the pieces myself. Not only can I feel the emotions of my characters, but when playing with the rest of the orchestra, I can feel the whole story coming to life around me. Having such a variety of emotions to explore whilst I am playing also adds a lot of excitement, as well as opportunity for creativity and exploration of sound, which I love.

For many teenagers in the audience, this might be their first orchestral concert. What do you hope they feel when they hear the orchestra play?

I hope that the teenagers in the audience who haven’t been exposed to orchestral music before are captivated by the collective power of so many teenage musicians working together to produce something bigger than them. I think that one of the incredible things about orchestral music is the way in which we all have to work together and communicate with each other through our playing, in order to convey emotion to the audience.

NYO offers free tickets for teenagers to make orchestral music accessible. Why do you think it’s important that young people get the chance to experience music like this live?

I think that it is so important that young people get to experience orchestral music because it provides a way for them to connect with others and be a part of a new community. The experience of seeing the orchestra live (as opposed to streaming it at home) will allow them to be immersed in the atmosphere created by the music. This is really exciting as it means that the teenagers can experience the story within the music firsthand, and hopefully get even more enjoyment out of the overall experience!

When you’re performing something as dramatic as Romeo and Juliet, do you feel like you’re telling the story through the music rather than just playing the notes?

I believe that with something as dramatic as Romeo and Juliet, that already has such a well known storyline, we as performers are provided with a vessel to help us pass even more emotion to the audience. This makes it thrilling to play because of the creative element of telling the story as well as playing the notes. Due to the story being so well known, we also have room to provide the audience with our own interpretations of the feelings of characters in certain scenes, which is a lot of fun.

The National Youth Orchestra brings together 160 teenage musicians. What is the energy like when you all perform together on stage?

I think the energy of an orchestra of teenagers, especially when most of us are playing repertoire for the first time, is something incredibly unique and amazing. I hope that with both our playing, and the creative side of NYO with our encores, we can inspire this generation of young people to gain the same enjoyment of classical music that we get to experience through NYO. I love the buzz of making music with such close friends. It’s an amazing feeling to create something so spectacular, that means so much to so many people, with those who you care about a lot. I feel incredibly lucky to get to play with such brilliant musicians, and brilliant people.     

You’re performing music inspired by Howl’s Moving Castle, Tristan und Isolde and Romeo and Juliet. Which piece in the programme excites you the most to play and why?

I love that all of the music in the Collide tour tells such vivid stories. It makes the music thrilling to play because it makes you feel like you’re actually playing a part in the story itself. In Romeo and Juliet in particular, I can hear all of the characters, who I knew growing up, coming to life.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Noah Wild

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Noah Wild, an Oxford-based theatre maker and (fairly) recent university graduate. Their one-person play With All My Fondest Love goes on tour across the country following an acclaimed ★★★★ run at The Edinburgh Fringe.

 The play is touring to venues in Oxford, London and Brighton this spring – Tickets here.


With All My Fondest Love is rooted in the letters and diaries of your grandparents. What first inspired you to turn their story into a piece of theatre?

I started writing With All My Fondest Love during my final summer of University. I’d had my heart broken and, struggling with all the complicated feelings that created, realised I was probably experiencing love for the first time. It was around that point that I chanced upon a box of my grandparents’ love letters in the loft, dusty and unread. My grandmother was married by my age, so I became interested in what it means to conceive of love at this young age and how our understanding of love might change across generations and our own lifetime. 

Then, in the post, my uncle sent stacks of diaries written by my grandad. He was a strange diary writer: as soon as anything important happens, he stops writing. With no memories of my grandparents, these letters and diaries allowed me to discover a long, complex life story I’d never been aware of. But it’s those gaps that With All My Fondest Love is most focused on – can you really actually ever know your own family? 

Your play brings together three generations through its storytelling. What have you learned about love and relationships from looking so closely at your grandparents’ lives?

One of my favourite sections of With All My Fondest Love unites my grandparents, parents and myself on a series of train journeys. At their core, each generation is comparable, even passing through the same train stations. However, my grandparents’ marriage doesn’t fall within our normal definitions of love, it was bumpy and open-ended. One of the play’s most moving moments explores terminal illness and love is expressed through simple actions of care, rather than grand romantic declarations. Love becomes harder to pin down in the later stages of their marriage but it’s always there, perhaps just redefined. That’s had a big impact on my own expectations of what a lifetime commitment to loving someone might involve. 

How has working on this play changed the way you relate to your own family history?

It’s particularly changed how I relate to my grandmother, as she died eight years before I was born. Now, I think I have a much more human and nuanced connection to her life, in a particular an appreciation of how she managed to overcome neo-natal loss. I hope the complexity and contradictions of her character come across in the play. 

What’s been most interesting, however, is to see my Dad re-evaluate his connection to his parents, discovering an interior life to his parents alongside him. So it’s been beautiful to share in these surprises and discoveries – particularly when they have challenged or contradicted how he has usually described his parents. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the first time he watched the play alongside his brother, that was a special moment!

Carrying a solo performance requires a unique kind of presence and stamina. What has been the most challenging and rewarding aspect of holding the stage alone?

It felt very awkward and lonely at first, as I really missed having someone to react to as an actor! We’ve just finished rehearsing for the upcoming tour, two years after the play was last performed and I’d forgotten how exhausting performing alone is. And sometimes I do wish I’d written less lines for myself to learn…! 

But it is utterly amazing to hold a room completely in your own hands, slightly terrifying but thrilling. My grandfather, as a keen amateur actor and speech giver, would have loved to have his own one-person play, I think. So, something definitely runs in the family. 

If someone is coming to the show knowing very little about it, what would you love them to experience?

I hope With All My Fondest renews an interest in your own family history. My favourite part of performing the play is hearing about the amazing grandparents of our audiences (many of which deserve a play all of their own!). Through uniting three generations together, it explores how people, at different stages of life, are able to pick themselves up after loss and keep on living. I think there’s something profoundly hopeful and redemptive in that. So overall the play feels like a long, warm hug, something emotional but deeply comforting. Tender is the perfect word to describe it!

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Maz McGinlay

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Maz McGinlay who plays Dr Jess Irvine in this captivating and soul-stirring new musical infused with nostalgic Scottish folk sounds and foot-stomping rhythms.

Lifeline runs from 28 April to 2 May at Southwark Playhouse Elephant. Info here.


LIFELINE spans love and a looming global crisis — how do you keep it feeling intimate rather than overwhelming?

I think focussing on the human aspects of the show is what keeps it from feeling overwhelming or something we can’t get our heads around, which is easy to get lost in when dealing with a heavy subject. The show hits relatable topics such as grief, loss, discovery, love, family and best of all hope. 

With real-life medics on stage, in what way will the show land differently for you each night?

Naturally with a wonderful group of real life medical professionals each week, the show will stay fresh and exciting for all of us involved. These people are incredible humans who have given up their time to join us on stage, and what each of them do professionally is entirely different. As actors it’s our job to respond to that authentically.

How do you navigate jumping between 1950s Scotland and present-day Edinburgh as a performer?

My role in the show only deals with the modern day story, but it’s actually quite lovely to leave the stage in a pair of scrubs then pass someone entering into a new scene in period style costume. It’s so unique in that way and hopefully by the end, the worlds will meet in a clever and artistic way.

This is science-led but emotion-driven — where do you find your way into it?

Yes the Science is incredibly important and relevant to this story, but can also be polarising if you don’t quite understand all the technicality of phrases etc….. I definitely don’t! However, at the heart of the story is the real- life human emotions of what each of the characters is going through. Science like-minded or not, that is something we all relate to. Whether it be heartbreak, falling in love, grief, loss, laughter.  We all understand that. 

What feels different about working on a piece that’s still evolving and so tied to real-world stakes?

I definitely feel the weight of telling the story in the most authentic and clear way. It’s a topic that needs to be heard and understood by everyone around the world, and what better way to do it than in art form. And how lucky we are to have real life medical professionals who face Antimicrobial Resistance (AMR) every day, to help us in doing that. We’ve also been lucky enough to have an incredible creative team who are open minded and malleable at every corner.

What’s this show revealed to you about the power of “ordinary” people?

No one is actually ordinary. And when working together especially, we can achieve extraordinary things. 

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Duo Eunioa


We sat down with Duo Eunioa for a quick chat about their upcoming performances at the Royal Albert Hall. For ticketing and info, please find here and here.


How do poetry and visual art shape the way you listen to each other as a duo, beyond simply influencing repertoire choices?

All art reshapes how we perceive the world, so it inevitably reshapes how we listen to one another. Poetry and visual art don’t just influence our repertoire choices; they shape the quality of our attention. We are both very visual thinkers, and when discovering new music, it often sparks vivid inner imagery (colours, landscapes, gestures…) which we share as a way of finding a shared emotional language. Instead of discussing only dynamics or articulation, we might ask: does this feel like shadow or light? If this melody was a person, how or who would they be? Poetry deepens that dialogue further. We reflect on why certain words move us so profoundly, and then ask how we can create an equally powerful emotional resonance through sound alone.

What does the idea of “eunoia” — beautiful thinking — mean to you in the context of a live performance?

Although eunoia (from ancient Greek) literally translates as “beautiful thinking,” for us it speaks more deeply of connection, about the harmony that arises when people meet with openness and empathy. In performance, it becomes an intention. We aim to create a space where listeners feel safe to experience the music in their own way, and where their reflections, emotions and imagery are welcomed rather than prescribed. It is about inviting presence in a world that so often encourages distraction, and encouraging connection: to ourselves, to one another, and to the moment we are sharing. And for us on stage, it also means granting each other the freedom to be fully authentic: to take risks, to listen generously, and to explore our creativity without fear.

In an intimate morning setting like the Elgar Room, how does the audience’s presence subtly alter your musical dialogue?

Intimate venues have always felt like home to us. In a smaller space, something softens, for performers and listeners alike. The atmosphere becomes less formal, less performative, and more human. We sense breathing, stillness, even subtle shifts in attention, and that awareness inevitably shapes how we play. It feels less like presenting something to an audience and more like experiencing something with them. As performers, we feel that the intimacy of a setting like the Elgar Room invites authenticity. When people feel at ease, the musical dialogue becomes more honest, spontaneous, and connected.

How do you balance inviting close, reflective listening while still allowing space for spontaneity and surprise in performance?

Playing together for five years has given us something invaluable: trust born of time shared. That shared history means we often anticipate one another instinctively. There are moments in rehearsal when one of us does something unexpectedly, and the other anticipates it, as if the thought had already been shared. Because we know each other so deeply, we can take risks safely. With repertoire that has grown familiar over the years, we feel free to play and reshape it differently each time. With new works, there is the thrill of discovery, especially as we’re drawn to music that is rarely performed, unrecorded, or that has been arranged by us. Without a blueprint to follow, we create from a “blank canvas”. Throughout it all, close, reflective listening remains our anchor, the foundation that allows spontaneity to flourish.

 What considerations go into shaping a relaxed performance so it remains artistically rich while being genuinely accessible?

For us, “relaxed” never means simplified; it means removing the fear of a “wrong” reaction. We want audiences to know they can move, respond and experience the music in ways that feel natural to them. By welcoming that freedom, we honour the diversity of how people listen and engage. Our work in community settings, from schools to dementia care homes and mental health facilities, has deeply shaped this approach. It has taught us to be adaptable and attentive, sometimes incorporating interactive elements, while still preserving the artistic integrity of the programme. Our spoken introductions remain central in all our performances, relaxed or not, offering context and invitation rather than instruction. We are naturally drawn to shorter pieces rich in imagery and atmosphere, which transcend background or training. In our experience, imagination is universal.

 As emerging artists, how do you see interdisciplinary inspiration helping redefine what a classical concert experience can be?

We love drawing inspiration from other disciplines, often designing performances and workshops that weave music with visual art, poetry, and mindfulness. These interdisciplinary elements enrich the experience, opening doors to imagination and emotional reflection. Yet, we are acutely aware of living in a world overflowing with constant input and distraction. Our goal is to slow down, offering audiences the chance to disconnect and be fully present. That’s why we are careful not to overwhelm the music with other forms. Music alone has a profound ability to reach the depths of the soul, and for that, full immersion is essential. Interdisciplinary inspiration becomes a support, not a distraction, guiding the listener toward presence, connection, and the transformative power of sound.

FEATURE: From Myth to Musical – The Promise and Potential of Sea Witch


Whenever a new musical arrives on the scene there is a particular sense of anticipation. Amid a West End landscape dominated by long-running favourites and familiar “extension announced” headlines, the promise of an original story finding its voice on stage still carries a certain thrill. That sense of possibility surrounded the concert presentation of Sea Witch at Theatre Royal Drury Lane, a one-night showcase designed to generate excitement and momentum towards a future full production. On that front, it succeeded. The event created genuine buzz and curiosity around what this new musical might become.

Based on the young adult novel by Sarah Henning, Sea Witch explores the now familiar storytelling device of revisiting a villain’s origins. Much like the narrative re-framings popularised by works such as Maleficent or the stage phenomenon Wicked, the story asks what might lie behind the legend. Here, the focus is Evie, a witch trying to survive in a world where magic is outlawed. When her path collides with Annemette, a mermaid guarding secrets of her own, both are propelled towards a destiny that reshapes the myth audiences think they know.

It is an intriguing premise, though the storytelling occasionally struggles beneath the weight of its own mythology. With multiple characters, shifting allegiances and a detailed fantasy world to establish, the narrative sometimes becomes convoluted, leaving the central trajectory of Ursula’s transformation slightly obscured. In this concert staging the story could linger in places, creating moments where the pacing stalled rather than building momentum. Some tightening and streamlining would help sharpen the emotional journey and ensure the central relationships land with greater clarity.

The score, with music and lyrics by Segun Fawole, contains several striking moments. Songs such as “Every Woman”, “There’s a Woman” and “Wonder” stand out, carrying real emotional weight and offering glimpses of the musical’s potential. Others, including “Glory” and “Myths of Maritime”, felt more extended than necessary in this format. Part of this may be a consequence of the concert presentation itself; numbers that appear to build towards visual moments, such as Evie discovering her powers, inevitably feel incomplete without the staging and theatrical effects that would bring those moments fully to life.

Elsewhere, songs like “Queen” and “Untoppable” are undeniably enjoyable but carry echoes of contemporary musical theatre hits such as Six and Wicked. While these influences are hardly surprising in modern musical theatre, further developing a distinctive sonic identity would help Sea Witchstand apart and strengthen its ambition to become a major new musical.

The cast assembled for the evening ensured strong audience interest. Jay McGuiness drew a sizeable crowd and delivered a heartfelt performance as Iker, though the vocal demands alongside the choreography occasionally stretched the performance. Natalie Paris brought sincerity and warmth to Evie, grounding the character with a thoughtful musical theatre performance that helped anchor the emotional core of the story.

As Nik, Djavan Van de Fliert embodied the archetypal handsome prince, though the performance at times leaned towards exaggeration, perhaps an attempt to fill the narrative gaps left by the concert format. The inclusion of high-profile names such as Michelle Visage and Mazz Murray added star power, though their characters felt comparatively underdeveloped within the story presented here.

One of the evening’s strongest performances came from Amy Di Bartolomeo as Annemette, delivering a confident and engaging turn that hinted at a deeper relationship between Annemette and Evie than the script currently allows. With so many characters in play, focusing more intently on a few key relationships would strengthen the storytelling and ensure pivotal plot developments feel fully earned.

A special mention must also go to the dancers and backing vocalists, whose lyrical choreography created a striking visual accompaniment to the music. Even within the limitations of a concert format, their presence added energy and theatricality.

There is undeniable potential within Sea Witch. The concept taps into contemporary fascination with re-examining villains and reclaiming misunderstood identities. Yet to realise the scale of spectacle the story seems to demand, the show would benefit from significant streamlining and development. With refinement, and perhaps a slightly leaner running time taking it under the two-and-a-half-hour mark, this mythic origin story could evolve into something genuinely distinctive.

For now, the buzz generated by this first outing suggests that audiences are ready to dive deeper into its dark waters. The next stage of the journey will determine just how powerful this new musical can become.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Clive Lyttle

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Clive Lyttle, Artistic Director and Founder of Certain Blacks. They return with Black Athena Festival, a cross-disciplinary programme bringing together artists who push beyond conventional art forms.

This festival runs between RichMix and the Place between March and April – Tickets here


How does the Art Ensemble of Chicago’s ethos behind Certain Blacks continue to inform your curatorial and political thinking today?

The ideas I took from The Art Ensemble of Chicago have been about Black political resistance and pride through art, freedom and excellence. We have been lucky enough to work with LT Beauchamp known as Chicago Beau who played on the Art Ensemble of Chicago’s album Certain Blacks, which we are named after, and we also worked with artists form Chicago’s The Association for the Advancement of Creative Musician collective with the Katalyst Conversation. The idea that “Certain Blacks do what they want to”, lyrics from the album, struck me and allowed us to develop our curatorial practice.

What does engaging with Martin Bernal’s Black Athena offer contemporary audiences that more familiar cultural histories do not?

Exploring the idea of alternatives to the current cultural thinking. The festival includes pieces that are based on music and movement and not just the spoken words of Shakespeare or moods cast by Chekov. The festival includes a new commission via Kimpavita Festival in Dakar called Rising Mirrors / Miroirs en ascension / Kitalatala ya ntombua exploring the experiences of Congolese women who refuse to be subdued. The festival also contains the work Graffiti Bodies XV inspired by the work of Jean-Michel Basquiat’s 1981 painting La Hara plus Ronin looking at duel heritage through dance and marital arts. All of these works challenge traditional narratives within debates around culture and the nature of civilisation.

As part of tour partnership with Kimpa Vita in Dakar, I got to visit The Island of Goree off the coast of Senegal. This was a slave island from which my ancestors were shipped across the Atlantic as property. The ideas of “The Enlightenment” are central in allowing the slave trade to depict Black people as “Uncivilised”. Africa was often seen as the dark continent but when you visit, there are thriving countries and civilisations that span thousands of years and this festival has allowed us to touch upon these differing civilisations within Africa and in the case of Ronin, Japan.

How has your background in outdoor events and contemporary circus shaped your ideas around access and who art is for?

Working in Circus and Outdoor arts provides a platform of knowledge non-verbal performance. I’m a musician by practice and have also worked in theatre and dance. Circus allows me to look beyond forms where knowledge of language is important in understanding text-based theatre. When you work with Chekov you’re hearing words and looking for meanings which may be hidden, and you need an understanding of the language it is performed in. However, Circus and Outdoor arts are international. I’ve recently visited Tiawan, Japan and Senegal to see new shows with no understanding of Chinese, Japanese or French (Senegal). Certain Blacks is a member of Circostrada a European network for outdoor arts and circus and this enables us to meet, and work with, artists across Europe and internationally!! However, I’m now determined to improve my very bad French!!

Why is it important for Black Athena Festival to foreground difference rather than consensus in today’s UK cultural landscape?

It is the difference that makes the UK so culturally interesting. Black music and dance is now central to UK life, but we live in a current world of “Reform”, which to me, challenges the notion of being British. I was born in Lewisham Hospital just like the actor Delroy Lindo. This is where my mother worked as a midwife for most of her life and it’s the hospital where she died. We need to champion difference and creativity and showcase what cultural difference has bought to the UK over the past centuries.

What made Dam Van Huynh and Elaine Mitchener’s Graffiti Bodies XV feel central to this edition of the festival?

The work of Dam Van Huynh and Elaine Mitchener are part of the ongoing dialogue of what work can be made by diverse artists and it challenges the ideas of Black Dance, music creation and performance. I saw Van Huynh’s work Moving Eastman at the Barbican last year which highlights the work of composer Julius Eastman. This was shown through music and movement so I wanted to work with the company.

When moving work “from the margins to the mainstream,” how do you avoid losing what makes it radical?

Artists we’ve worked with have resulted in Certain Blacks commissions such as Sadiq Ali’s Tell Me And Crying in the Wilderness – Best Friends have gone on to take centre stage at The Place and Park Theatres. Similarly, Holy Dirt from Thirunarayan Productions, directed by David Glass is a Certain Blacks commission which has just been commissioned by Without Walls and will be at the Brighton Festival shows how the work we support can appear on mainstream stages and festivals and move “from the margins to the mainstream”