Added on by Stuart Bowden.
When Trevor stood on top of his camel he could make out a green patch in the distance, with palm trees, a pool, high diving board and bouncy naked bathers. He quickly dropped down in his saddle put his feet in the stirrups, and turned 180 degrees. He was no fool.

That night, under a cold blue mess of twinkles, Trevor dug a deep pit in the sand. He madly tried to bury himself next to his camel to keep warm, it didn't work. It was a stupid idea.


Nathan the Turkey

Added on by Stuart.

It was christmas eve and Nathan the turkey was very nervous, tonight he was hosting a christmas party. And not just any christmas party, but a surprise christmas party for all the other animals in the stable. And they were all due to arrive in 19 minutes, so it was crunch time.

He frantically hung streamers and fairy lights along the rafters. He was very excited, almost everything was ready. 

Nathan had never really enjoyed christmas, but this year he was making a real effort.

As he placed the last of the decorations on the tree he sung a little song that he made up on the spot.

Baubles Baubles Baubles Baubles  
Baubles Baubles Baubles Baubles 
Baubles Baubles Baubles Baubles 
Baubles Baubles Baubles Baubles  

After he finished the last of the baubles, he turned on the stereo and put on his christmas playlist, it had all the classics.

As the music began to play Nathan closed his eyes and imagined the perfect night where the surprise was a success, the food was delicious, the games were fun and at the end of the evening he might share a slow and passionate dance with Tiffany the goose. Nathan had a bit of a thing for Tiffany the Goose.

All of a sudden through the cold night breeze, Nathan the Turkey heard the chatter and giggle of the animals as they approached the stable.

He quickly armed himself with streamers and party poppers, stopped the music, turned off the lights and in the dark frenzy he accidentally ran headfirst into a wall and knocked himself out.

He lay unconscious on the stable floor as the animals arrive. They turn on the lights, saw the decorations and then noticed Nathan the Turkey lying silent and still on the floor. 

Nathan had an incredible dream sequence filled with elephants in cardigans on skateboards. It was really quite a magical dream sequence.

Eventually he gently opened his eyes. The stable was dark, Nathan was very disappoint. Christmas was ruined, they must've all gone out. This is the last time I try to embrace Christmas.

Nathan slowly dragged himself off the floor. And as soon as he stood up, all the animals jumped out from hiding spots around the stable and yelled:

"Surprise!"

Party poppers and streamers flew through the air. The music started, the beautiful lights came on and the party began. It was a hit.

In the soft unfocused light Nathan saw Tiffany. She smiled at him, walked over and put some frozen peas on his head. And in the dappled christmas lights they began to sway passionately.  

The party was a hit and despite having a tremendous headache Nathan the Turkey had a wonderful time.

Bevin's Christmas

Added on by Stuart Bowden.
About two thousand years ago, In a far far away land, lived a boy.

His name was Bevin.

It was Bevin's twelfth Christmas, a hot summers day and he had just received the mother of all presents, the one present that could change Christmas forever, the one thing that he had always wanted, a brand new mountain bike. It had gears and it was red, with off road tyres, no bells, no streamers, just a pure off-road stunt machine. It was to be his trusty steed, his trusty off road stead with twin shock gas compression suspension.

So all christmas morning Bevin spent either riding up and down the driveway or making ramps and planning stunts. Until his Uncle Dave and boring cousin Stacy arrived to ruin the day. He was told he wasn't allowed to ride his bike and he had to hang out with Stacy. 

After lunch Bevin and his brother Kevin were chasing Stacy around the house with high pressure water pistols, when she went missing. They split up, she was pretty crafty. 

Bevin went behind the house and he found Stacy standing behind a big gum tree holding a bunch of white helium balloons. She said they just fell from the sky and hit her in the head, but to be honest, that sounded a bit far fetched. I mean, seriously they could have fallen anywhere and they hit her in the head. Bevin knew that that was a very unlikely scenario, in all his twelve years he had learnt that everything: frisbees, kites, arrows, basketballs… everything always ended up on the roof of the house, it was like a giant magnet. And here was his cousin Stacy trying to tell him that these balloons hit her in the head. Well, it must have been some sort of Christmas miracle. 

And there was something attached to the balloons, wrapped in white cloth, and it was wriggling.

It was some sort of delivery sent from above.

Attached to one of the balloons was a message. 

Fragile, property of M & J, Bethlehem.

Well, there was a Bethlehem Street in Tarrabunga. Tarrabunga was the town where Bevin went to school, he knew the Street, it was the one with the squash court. But there was no number or actual address on the note. And as soon as he had read it, it slipped from Stacy's hand and floated off into the sky. 

Bevin looked down at the wriggling white cloth, whatever it was it was important, and probably worth a lot of money. And he thought that there might be some sort of reward. 

But It was a pretty strange way to have something delivered. I mean, It was a bit hit and miss relying on the weather and the wind patterns and then not having the exact address. 

It's like whoever wanted this delivered was expecting some sort of Christmas miracle. And it had fallen into the right hands. I mean, this was the perfect mission. Stacy and Bevin were meant for this mission. It was their destiny.

Bevin went to the shed and grabbed his brand new trusty off road stead. And he tried to take the package from his cousin to deliver it himself, but she punched me in the nose and said, that she'd found it and that it was her responsibility to deliver it. So she jumped onto the handlebars of his new bike and she asked him to give her a ride. Well, it was a pretty long way to carry someone. I mean, Tarrabunga was at least 6 kilometres away, and that's a long way for a twelve year old. It was to be a journey of epic proportions. 

So off they went. 

On the way Bevin got quite frustrated with Stacy, it was quite a tense journey actually, she kept referring to his steed as a donkey, it was very irritating.  

Up steep hills, down dusty dirt roads lined with grasshoppers and into town, the hustle bustle of Tarrabunga. 

They made it. Bethlehem Street was hectic, full of christmas celebrations that spilt out onto the street. There where games of cricket in the street, bbq's on front lawns, kids running everywhere. Kites flying. It was very busy.

They went up to one house and a group of kids launched a full scale attack of water bombs at them. Stacy and Bevin dodged and weaved until they made it to the front door. Bevin knocked and a stern looking old man opened the door. 

"Hello, can I help you?"

Stacy held the white cloth package out towards him. And he quickly said,

"What ever it is you're selling I'm not interested, we're trying to celebrate Christmas, we don't need you lot coming around interrupting our day."

And he slammed the door in their faces.

Back through the front gate, to the house next door. 

At the next house Bevin knocked on the door… no answer… Stacy knocked… no answer… Bevin lifted his hand to try one more time and all of a sudden the door went soft, he looked up and realised that he'd just knocked on a very short lady's face.

Bevin apologised profusely and Stacy giggled. They held out the package and Stacy said

"Can you help us? we're trying to deliver this very important package, but we're not sure where to take it."

The very short lady interrupted her saying

"No I can't help you, we have enough stuff here already. You really have some nerve, you come to my house on christmas day, punch me in the face as I open the door and expect me to help you."  

Bevin protested, "It was an accident, it's just that you have a low face, it's not my fault that your face is at knocking height…"

At that she slammed the door .

They turned around quickly and scurried over to the gate and slammed it behind them.

Feeling a little depress, Bevin thought that maybe they should give up put the wriggling package in the bin and go home, and just try to forget about the whole thing. But Stacy was really keen on the reward, and she convinced him to have one more try.

So they tried one more house. They stood outside, looking into the front window from the street. It was clearly some sort of fancy dress Christmas party, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. They knocked on the door and a kind man dressed as an Inn keeper answered the door. Stacy held out the package and said

"We're not trying to sell anything, we're just trying to deliver this miracle package. Does this belong to anyone here?"

"Well..." the kind Inn keeper said,

"...I'm afraid it's very busy here…"

Bevin feared the worst…

"…But, lets ask around"

He took them inside.

As soon as they stepped inside, there was another knock at the door and three more guest arrive. It was a bit of an embarrassing situation, they had all dressed in the same costumes, with beards and robes and it seem they'd not actually been invited. 

They where all following @brightstar on twitter who had lead them to the Facebook event. The Inn keeper said, "well, we didn't actually expected everyone who clicked attending to show up".

The three (internet savvy) men dressed up in robes and beards, each offered very expensive gifts, and they were let into the party.

Stacy and Bevin made their way through the party it was very noisy and they couldn't really speak to anyone. They were told they should probably head to the back shed where it was quieter and they could actually talk to people. 

Stacy and Bevin made their way out to the shed, it was filled with guests dressed as animals.

All of a sudden, a whole bunch of sheep jumped over the back fence, followed by a lot of confused local farmers. The sheep stopped in the back yard beside an old trampoline. And Bevin heard the farmers saying that they were told to come to 31 Bethlehem Street by a message tied to a helium balloon. 

Bevin yelled out, 

"that was the same as us, Stacy got hit in the head by a helium balloon. And it told us to bring this package here, but at least you got an actual address, we were just told bethlehem"

Then Stacy held up the wriggling white cloth package and said

"Does this belong to anyone"

and at that moment, the music stopped and everyone dropped to their knees.


Better come up with a good story

(image)

The DIY Nativity

Added on by Stuart Bowden.
This is happening NOW!
(4th - 30th Dec)



The DIY Nativity is a project that I've been working on in Cambridge, at The Junction Theatre. I've been making it with some pretty rad people, Bryony Kimmings and Sam Halmarack. It is an all killa no stocking filla, Christmas show.

You can get tickets here if you like:
http://www.junction.co.uk/artist/4805

Toby

Added on by Stuart Bowden.
Poor Toby Lauren. He fogs up mirrors when he walks in. Lights low, candles glow and halls echo. He fumbles with words and smiles it away. He draws back frowns and lets in the day. He packs to go and start again. He smiles in the wind and it makes him bend.

"That'll be one hundred and twenty seven dollars, thanks."

He hands it over and pushes the door closed as he goes.

Another hotel, another night, another zip on his bag pulled in tight and no more will he be back there again. And no more will they see poor Toby Lauren.

Two stamps left, who?

"Dear parents" (both in the same home), "I need more money, please help". Lick, slip through the slot, ten steps and then hope. Then forget. Then wake up and remember. Sleep. Pay for bus. Remember. Remember. Remember.

"They don't understand" no one understands. Poor Toby Lauren. One more stamp. There's too many and no one. The stamp will wilt in his wallet on the way. And only poor Toby will know, on his way home.

"Poor Toby, where've you been?"

He works at the go kart track now, he'll probably take it over one day. Toby the go kart guy. He sells christmas trees at christmas too. Poor Toby Lauren, is there anything that you can't do?

Interview for The Beast at Brisbane Festival

Added on by Stuart Bowden.


Arts

BOWDEN & THE BEAST


As Brisbane Festival approaches, Sam Hobson sits down with solo writer/performer Stuart Bowden to talk about his curious new show The Beast.

The Beast is a simple story about a creature called Winslow,” Bowden explains. “Nobody really knows what he is, [but] he lives in a cave and he’s learnt everything he knows about humanity from watching people. He eats berries and various rodents and often thinks about killing himself. He wonders what he’s doing here. He longs for connection. This show is about Winslow seeking that connection.”

While researching what it is that Stuart Bowden does, I came across his blog and the works of micro fiction he’d posted. It was through those stories that Bowden’s considerable talent revealed itself. His writer’s voice is crisp and present; his prose has a neatness I envy, and the power of his writing comes from a place of quiet, unassuming strength.

The pairing of that skill for self-expression with the isolated story of The Beast – for me, at least – makes Bowden’s new stage show a particularly exciting prospect. “To be honest,” Bowden starts, “I always wanted to be a performer. I studied acting, and since graduating [I’ve] developed my writing as a survival mechanism.”

This survival mechanism, he explains, began as a pragmatic solution to ensuring there were always roles available for him. If there were no juicy parts going, then Bowden was simply the one to create them. “[But] now I can’t stop,” he continues. “I’ve found a sense of empowerment as an artist. I take pleasure in the writing, [and] it has definitely become a creative outlet for me…playing with ideas and creating characters. It’s rewarding to create [a] whole work from start to finish, from idea to performance, and I [so] don’t really see the two [as] completely separate things.”

Thematically, his micro fiction wrestles with self worth; it’s all internal monologues, missed connections, and soft, introspective moments of humility. His performance art, though, through a different medium, inhabits a similar thematic and narrative space. “As a solo artist it can get a little lonely, and that often makes its way into my work.” Bowden admits. “I regularly find myself dredging through themes of longing, isolation, and [also] hope. I think I’m drawn to these themes because I grew up in [the] country, and I spent a lot of time just hanging out with my brothers on the farm or on my own.

“I don’t think isolation is necessarily a negative thing, though. With isolation, you’re left with your thoughts and your imagination and that’s when you start to create stories. I think the main characters in my two solo shows experience that imaginative freedom that isolation can foster.”

“In the beginning I wrote The Beast as the second in a series of portraits of characters in isolation seeking others. The first in the series was about a space explorer, [and it was] during the performance of [that show] that I started to think about creating a show about a ‘creature’ rather than a human; [a show about] that creature’s isolation and naivety. Winslow is a creature desperately seeking humanity, so we relate to him and ultimately want to be his friend.”

WHAT: The Beast

WHEN & WHERE: Thursday 20 to Sunday 23 September, Brisbane Powerhouse

Sam Hobson

Time Off (Sep 12, 2012)

The Tour

Added on by Stuart Bowden.

Brisbane Festival

The Beast
6:30 | 20 - 22 September
1:30 | 23 September
Powerhouse
Tickets
Dr Brown Brown Brown Brown Brown and His Singing Tiger
11:30am | 27 & 28 September
9:30am | 28 September
The Spiegeltent South Bank
Tickets

Melbourne Fringe

The Beast
6:15 | 1 - 7 October
The Tuxedo Cat
Join the FB event and invite your friends
Tickets
Dr Brown Brown Brown Brown Brown and His Singing Tiger
11am & 2pm | 6 October
The Arts Centre
Tickets

AWESOME Festival Perth

Dr Brown Brown Brown Brown Brown and His Singing Tiger
12pm | 9 - 15 October
The AWESOME Spiegeltent
Tickets

Sydney

The Beast
Belvoir Theatre
7:30pm | 16 October
7:30pm | 17 October
Tickets

London

Dr Brown Brown Brown Brown Brown and His Singing Tiger
1pm | 30 October - 3 September
Soho Theatre
Tickets

The List review of The Beast ✭✭✭✭

Added on by Stuart Bowden.


The Beast (4 stars)

With just a uke and a loop pedal, Bowden commands a spellbound crowd

The Beast
Stuart Bowden wants to tell you a story about a beast. His name is Winslow and he lives on the edge of town, just a short helicopter ride away if you happen to have a helicopter. Winslow is a little awkward and a little lonely, one of his prized possessions a pair of bikini bottoms with ‘COWGIRL’ emblazoned across them.
Bowden wants to give you a new friend, in a story that’ll work its way into your soul. With just a ukulele and a loop pedal for company, he tells his tale simply and directly, with complete command of a spellbound crowd. If at times the ambience tips close to twee, Bowden snatches it back right away with a wry joke or some snappy ukulele work.

There are plenty of live original songs that are by turns sweet, funky, funny and sad, accompanying the odd burst of joyous dancing and a narrative that’s part Stig of the Dump, partWhere the Wild Things Are and all heart. This show is quietly beautiful, a gift.
Underbelly Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 26 Aug (not 13), 8.10pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50-£9.50).

The Night Before Andrew Left

Added on by Stuart Bowden.

Andrew laughed so hard that he needed to go to the toilet. Lucy was being very funny. Lucy was more relaxed with him than anyone she had ever met; she was actually more comfortable with him than she was on her own. Andrew went to the toilet. She played with a flower that was in the centre of the table; she was awkward on her own, awkward thoughts, and some sad ones too.

She suddenly thought that it might be best if she just left now, before she had to say goodbye, it was spontaneous and seemed romantic, but to be honest it was a stupid idea. She wrote on a napkin before she left.

When we kiss, we ignite like the sun, or something brighter maybe gazillions of light years away, something undiscovered. Breathing is so much easier when I’m with you. I have a request. Can I live in your ear? And can you take me everywhere with you? I’ve come to terms with the fact that it wont be a glamorous life in your ear, but as long as I’m with you I’ll be relatively happy.

Two minutes after stepping out of the restaurant she regretted leaving, writing the note and especially she regretted all the ear stuff, she turned around very quickly.

Andrew stood at the empty table and read the napkin, it was very funny but he did not smile. He didn’t understand it. “If she wanted to live in my ear then why did she leave?” he thought as he paid with his card, which was fine. He stepped out of the restaurant.

“BOO” Lucy jumped out from around the corner and accidently head butt him in the face and his nose started to bleed.

His T-shirt was covered in blood, but he had the napkin in his hand the whole time, like a contract that he needed to clarify the details of. 

Theodore Loves Fiona But Sometimes She Makes Him Really Angry

Added on by Stuart Bowden.
Cramped with fury bruising his flanks, Theodore ambles down an alley towards town. The streets are crammed with cars, colour and sound, the same symphony of colours that paraded through his dreams last night. Theodore is naked, except for a blue pair of shorts that don’t really hide much. He is a wild man crying and running down the street. Cars are swerving into poles, toddlers are dropping ice creams and crying, birds are shitting on the parents, workmen are falling off scaffolding, cats don’t really care and electricity sparks on electricity poles. He staggers into a bargain superstore, there is a call over the speaker and security flares up in all the wrong places. Theodore takes some wine glasses (shit plastic ones with truly awful flowers printed on the side and LED lights in the stems) and a large tin of paint, Moroccan Flames – A robust orange with real energy, and walks out. The street is silent. Theodore’s phone vibrates in his pocket, he drops the paint, it doesn’t spill dramatically like he had hoped so he kicks it over, and still the lid doesn’t come off. He reaches into his pocket, takes out his phone, reads and runs directly home. He is glazed with sweat, with a few extra coats on his armpits. He puts the obscene wine glasses in a box, wraps it in beautiful paper, ties a bow and waits for Fiona to come home.

BEACH

Added on by Stuart Bowden.

I sat next to her. She was lying face down on a towel. We had never met. The tide came closer and closer. I hadn’t spoken a single word to her, ever, and there we were, both threatened by the water. A large wave pounded towards us. I dragged myself back.

The tip of her toes and her towel got wet; she was upset because I should have let her know that the tide was coming.

We ran for higher ground, in the hot sand she held up her hand and told me her name, but I didn’t catch it because my feet were burning and I was jumping around, yelping.

I threw my towel down like an island and stepped on, she jumped on.

“Can I share your towel with you, because mine’s wet?”

We stood on my towel, like an island, in the hot sand, on the crowded beach, staring out at the sea, awkwardly.

The sun went down and the sea went away.

The Paradise Deadfall, Fell

Added on by Stuart Bowden.




Lance pushed the door open. The door scraped on light blue carpet, old ornate, worn-out carpet from a past paradise. It wasn't the door and the carpets first introduction, they were old friends. Jen followed. The room was prepared for them. A smile scraped across Lance’s face and reflected in the glass on the oven door. Jen didn’t see the smile; she did see the dust, though. Her finger slipped across the bench top, Lance looked on and the smile slipped off his face like an avalanche; a safe and predicted avalanche. A controlled landslide set off by explosives, planted strategically, deep under the surface, long before.

DOG

Added on by Stuart Bowden.




It takes me three hundred steps to get to the convenience store from my apartment. On the two hundred and sixty seventh step, I stop. No, I don’t just stop - I’m stopped. A woman tugs at my sleeve. “Excuse me, sorry to bother you”. I don’t mind being stopped but I don’t really want to commit to anything right now, I just want to buy some lamb mince and go home. I turn around to see a small lady with straight glossy brown hair. “Have you seen a small dog around?” she pleads desperately. I really don’t want to admit that I am in fact a small dog disguised as a man, but I can’t think of a lie quick enough.


“How can I help you?” I timidly reply trying not to give too much away as my tail slightly retreats between my legs. I push my paws hard in my pockets, tightening my trench coat around me. I really don’t want to get dragged into this.


“Well, I need a small dog to keep me company as winter slowly trails loneliness through my house”, her eyes are darting from shadow to shadow. 


“Ideally you need a companion, by the sounds of things, anything will do really”. I point at an empty soft drink can, it’s not very convincing really. It’s quite a stupid looking can, lying pathetically dinted, beside the lamp pole. I try desperately to convince her. I pick up the can.“It’s not perfect but at least it’s a project”. I offer, like a sales pitch.


She smiles, cradling the can in her palm. It looks up at her, full of hope. 

I step away, thirty three steps, I buy the mince, three hundred more steps and I’m safe, back in my empty apartment, relieved. That was close.


UK dates for Dr Brown and His Singing Tiger

Added on by Stuart Bowden.



26th of May - Brighton, The Hurly Burly Family Fringe - On the Green - 11.30am. Tickets

27th of May - Brighton, The Hurly Burly Family Fringe  - On the Green - 10am. Tickets

27th of May - Brighton, The Hurly Burly Family Fringe - On the Green - 11.30am. Tickets

23rd of June - The Dugdale Centre, Enfield Town, Finger in the Pie - 2.00pm. Tickets

7th of July - Brighton, Brighton Dome - 11.00am. Tickets

8th of July - Brighton, Brighton Dome - 2.00pm. Tickets

19th - 22nd of July - The Secret Garden Party


Edinburgh Fringe
12:45 Assembly George Square
2nd to the 26th of August (no show 13th or 20th) 


AUSTRALIA


Brisbane Festival
The Courier-Mail Spiegeltent
27th of September - 11:30am
28th of September - 9:30am and 11:30am
Tickets

Review of The Beast from Adelaide Theatre Guide ★★★★

Added on by Stuart.

Stuart Bowden
Tuxedo Cat – Blue Room Until 17 March 2012
Review by Nikki Gaertner
www.theatreguide.com.au

Written and performed by Stuart Bowden, “The Beast” is a storytelling piece with music, telling the tale of Winslow, a beast who lives in a dark cave and longs to connect with people in the world outside his own.
Bowden is a quiet and likeable performer, and slowly draws you in to the story, navigating between chapters with songs sung from Winslow’s perspective, accompanied by ukulele and/or keyboard. Particularly clever and entertaining is the constant use of a phase looper, enabling Bowden to create multi-part harmonies and accompaniment instantly during the course of the show.
This show is humorous in parts and touching in others, and will particularly appeal to those with a touch of youth in their hearts – leaving you with a smile on your face and a tear in your eye.
It is definitely worth a look, to take you away to a quiet and different world during the madness of the Fringe. So spend an hour getting to know Bowden and Winslow in this unique and charming theatre experience.

Rating: 4 stars (out of 5)

Review of The Beast by No Plain Jane

Added on by Stuart.

Fringe Review: The Beast

by Jane

In his 2011 Fringe show The World Holds Everyone Apart, Apart From Us,  Stuart Bowden brought us the lovely story of a man who chooses to live alone to save the world.  This year, he brings us The Beast, the lovely story of a beast who has always lived alone, looking out over the small town near his cave. With this, Bowden confirms my opinion he is one of the most prepossessing and honest story-tellers we have the pleasure of seeing once a year.
In a ticket mix-up in the multi-theatred Tuxedo Cat, half the audience have been diverted to the wrong theatre.  Bowden has already begun playing his ukulele for the small group gathered, when the audience is doubled.  He quietly tells us to pretend nothing happened, he’ll start again, before looking out over the whole group and saying to us “I hope you’ll all fit!”
But fit we do, and we settle in to laugh and love the story of The Beast – or, as he prefers to be known, of Winslow.  Winslow leads a life of solitude, a long way from town by foot, quite a diversion by taxi, not too far away if you own a helicopter. He alternates his pissing trees, he generally eats his breakfast warm, he wears sturdy work clothes except for when he needs to look a bit special and he wants to bring out his favourite flowered dress.
He is alone but he is happy; and he happily starts to discover a love and affection for people who live in the town. One woman in particular. We spend our time with him as he explores and discovers and learns and loves, as a bird has been shot up into the air before falling back and piercing his heart to take residence forever.
Bowden sits in a single yellow light under walls untouched for many years, paint cracking and bricks uncovered. He tells us Winslow’s story with the help of the ukulele, a Casio keyboard, and a whistle or a hum on his lips: sounds softly being looped and melded together as the space is shared. He tells us Winston’s story with a glint in his eye: a glint of joy, or of the light catching the corner of eyes on the edge of a tear. We don’t know him, but in this space Bowden makes us all feel like friends.
It’s imperfect theatre: twice a small giggle escapes from the audience and is trapped in the sound loop; once Bowden forgets the cords and must try and try again; once, Bowden turns his head away from his audience in laughter, before returning to us: “I’m going to cut that line.” But in this imperfection, Bowden manages to convey a unique honesty. You feel that he is taking this journey with us, he is facing the exploration of Winslow just as we are, he is absolutely there with his audience, glorious warts and all.
All too soon, the show ends and there is the black out.  It’s a well needed moment to sit with our thoughts and gently and privately wipe the tears from our eyes. There is a hesitation to start the claps, because the claps mean we acknowledge that it’s over.  But someone does, and we all join in, our hands pounding together and echoing through the space, our woops travelling towards Bowden and his smile. Then he leaves the playing space, and the claps die away, and the lights come up, and we know the universal symbol – the show is over, pick up your bags, it’s time to move on – but we linger.  Our bodies can’t quite seem to leave the space, our minds aren’t quite ready to leave Winslow, our feet won’t move down the stairs.  In the Tuxedo Cat we’ve found a safe place, a beautiful place, a place we wished was more of our world than not.  But eventually we can’t linger any longer.  We find the doors, we start to leave, and we softly smile into each other’s faces, knowing that while we have to leave Winslow, Winslow doesn’t have to leave us.
The Beast, presented, written and performed by Stuart Bowden.  At the Tuxedo Cat until March 17.  More information and tickets.

Review of The Beast from the Adelaide Advertiser ★★★★

Added on by Stuart.

★★★★

 0
The beast stuart Bowden
The Beast, Adelaide Fringe 2012.
STUART Bowden unleashes the inner beast below the streets of Adelaide.
THE BEAST

In the whirlwind that is the modern daily grind, it’s sometimes difficult to remember what it was like to be a kid. Thank goodness for theatre. 50-minutes with Stuart Bowden is like being five again; lying on the grass, staring up at the clouds and letting your imagination run wild.
Bowden is one half of award-winning duo The Lounge Room Confabulators and Dr Brown Brown Brown Brown Brown - The Kids' Show. His 2012 solo show tells the story of Winslow – a thoughtful, misunderstood beast making his way through life with wide-eyed inquisitiveness. Touching in simplicity, he brings the creature’s many layers to life through song and the sounds of a ukulele looped through a keyboard. The storytelling flow is interrupted when sounds from neighbouring shows drift across the stage - but the beast battles on.

What exactly is Winslow? Maybe he’s the child inside, our subconscious or the curious critter in the cavity of our chest. Only your imagination can answer that one. I walked out of the little Tuxedo Cat Blue Room wiping a tear from my eye, reluctant to join the bustle of reality outside.

We’re telling our mates… this little gem of escapism leaves you feeling a little bit sad but very much alive.


Rating: 4/5 Mall Balls

The Beast
Written and performed by Stuart Bowden
Tuxedo Cat – Blue Room
Runs until March 17.
Tickets: adelaidefringe.com.au

Adelaide Fringe

Added on by Stuart.
Just so you know, these are the shows I’m doing in the Adelaide Fringe this year. For ticket info click on the show title.

For the event touch the star  


For event touch the umbrella 

The Lounge Room Confabulators
These guys➘ have now sold out. We’ll let you know if we add more shows.
For information touch the cloud
See you in Adelaide.