The curators encourage you to come to Bush Bazaar with an open mind to explore the value of theatre. But I found this cluttered evening a lesson in the value of saying no. Twenty companies – 100 emerging artists in all – have taken over the building to sell their wares, including a dinner party, a cleansing treatment and one to one with Justin Bieber (hard to resist). After paying £10 to get in, you decide what to see and how much more to pay the artists. Sometimes before their show.
Theatre Delicatessen have devised this work in response to the global financial crisis. They want to explore the effects of cuts on the arts, and to make people think about the monetary and social value of theatre. These ideas are reflected in the structure of Bush Bazaar – an arts market similar to Theatre Deli’s Theatre Souk in 2010 – as well as individual shows: each company examines the notion of value. If this is the result of cuts, the arts could do with investment.
Birds Anonymous want visitors to consider what they value above cash
Overall, the piece is well-organised and uses the space brilliantly. Actors enliven every corner, from the downstairs cupboard to the water tank room, chatting away to wandering visitors. But there is a problem. As an audience member, how do you speak to someone pretending to be a teacher running a fete or a nymph conducting a purification ritual? Do you pretend to be someone, too?
Birds Anonymous took over the main space with Fete or Flight: a cheery fete on a budget. The premise is that "rebel" villagers have to run it, after the council has withdrawn to save money. Toby Peach plays David Watkins, the maths teacher in charge, with tail-wagging exuberance. (If this is rebellious, has he seen what's happening in Syria?) You wander for free, or pay £3 for unlimited participation, swapping songs with strangers or writing things you hate on plates and smashing them. Birds Anonymous want visitors to consider what they value above cash. But why go to a pretend fete over a real one?
Tea Fuelled puts on Maximus and Audencia, a deliberately silly 15-minute play, in the same room. Their set is made from cardboard boxes and they play kings and witches, wearing the kind of masks and sequinned hats sold at party shops. I think the actors are meant to be from the village am dram society. But while this adds to the fete atmosphere, I didn't understand why I would want to watch such earnest over-acting.
Of the structured shows, Meat, a sinister dinner party devised by Erica Miller, is the most absorbing. For a guide price of £2, blindfolded guests listen to the reading of a will, accompanied by vulgar chomping sounds and the nauseating smell of a burning carcass. The dialogue is like a clumsy Dickens adaptation – melodramatic and sentimental – but the plot, which I don't want to spoil, is ingeniously grotesque.
With the variety of acts on offer, Bush Bazaar was always likely to lurch along. But it is the individual shows rather than the format that I found disappointing. I liked Press Pass's take on celebrity as vacuous, but watching two squabbling journalists, instead of meeting Bieber, is tiresome. And while The Purification Ritual of the Sacred Nymphs of Natterjack (pictured above right) approach – riffing on value by looking at water as a scarce resource - is creative: the shambolic monologues at the show's heart and the homemade costumes make the piece seem like poor act for a children’s party. Some might like the raw, low-budget feel, but I found it bereft of sharp entertainment.
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