I very rarely buy local newspapers, but feel very fortunate that last week I picked up a copy of the Sheffield Telegraph, which devoted its centre page spread to the National Youth Theatre (in orange boiler suits) preparing for their takeover of the behemoth that is the Park Hill flats in Sheffield. Before this, I had somehow missed all publicity for the 'outdoor spectacular' that has come north to Sheffield following the success of 'Swarm' in London last year.
And, particularly in the sunset, Park Hill makes a beguiling setting - with its commanding views of the city, complicated and contested history, and current half-finished transformation into trendy Urban Splash apartments. The narrative of 'Slick' reimagines Park Hill as a ship that will transport those gathered for the performance - both audience and 200 or so actors mingling as fellow passengers- to a Utopian island made entirely of recycled plastic where they will volunteer to make the world a better place. There are clues here of what might have inspired the story - the huge geometric form of Park Hill cut into the hillside has a resemblance of an ocean liner, and the original intentions of much of this large-scale deck access housing was to replace the horrors of back-to-back terracing with an idealised form of new social utopia.
Perhaps to most impressive thing about the performance (apart from the sheer scale) was the dramaturgical ambition - the tone for which was set by the initial excitement and anticipation generated by the actors mingling and preparing to board. The audience of 100 or so (also 'playing' fellow volunteers) were then split up into manageable groups (built into the narrative), to enable the plot to unfold with the closer spaces inside the building.
On climbing the amazing new spiral staircase almost to the top of the structure, the concrete decks and unfinished apartment spaces were perfectly suited to the intimate scenes aboard the boat, where the early excitement quickly gave way to scenes of fear and distress as the ship's security forces searched for stowaways and a disturbing group of malnourished 'islanders' warned of the true atrocities that were taking place at this 'utopia'. In some of these chaotic scenes the distinction between actors and audience became blurred - a relationship which dramatically changed once we left the 'ship' for the breathtaking final scenes of mass-coordinated dance and action. The outdoor courtyard spaces of Park Hill lent themselves perfectly to the dramaturgy - this time as an auditorium / stage and the building's facade as a huge backdrop to the action. With the story coming to a head (basically a simplified battle between environmentalism brought down by capitalism in turn brought down by popular revolution), hundreds of orange boiler-suited actors came together amidst sound, smoke and lighting display to create a stunning visual finale.
Park Hill tends to polarise those within Sheffield, and its reputation lies somewhere between iconic and detested. It has been written about and talked about to death - and then unexpected rebirth through its Grade II listing and massive Council investment. And given its current state of flux there is still so much more to come. In this context there is probably already too great an excess of meaning written over it for the ideas of 'Slick' to stick - but given the enormity of the project the NYT handled the scale brilliantly, and created unexpected moments of exhilaration in a city that is often lacking in such bold and brave outdoor theatre.
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