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At The Little Theatre
Sep. 2nd, 2024 07:42 am The Little Theatre in Seaford was built as a Christian Science church. The Christian Scientists sold it to the theatre people for £1,000 in 1954.
The Quakers hire it for £15 an hour.
The auditorium is a square box, painted a deep, dark red- like an abatoir. Yesterday was a hot, airless day and it was stuffy in there even with the big, old-fashioned ceiling fans going round and round.
The Seaford Quakers had laid on a huge spread so we hadn't needed to to bring a pic-nic lunch and we just added our bread and humus and fizzy pop to the total.
During one of the breaks I walked to the beach- only a minute away. There was a breeze down there and very nice it was- coming from the direction of Seaford Head, the spectacular chalk cliff that hems in the town to the East.
I noted that the Little Theatre's next production will be A Dolls' House. An ambitious choice for amateurs, no?
There was a chap from Hove who had chosen the area Meeting as his first experience of Quakerism- and he was asking questions. "So is Quaker worship the same as meditation," he asked. "Sort of," I said. But Sally from Hastings said, "Not exactly," "In meditation you aim to empty your mind. In Quaker worship you leave the mind open and hope something good will be decanted into it." (My words because I forget hers- but that was the sense of them.) Ach! There is still so much about Quakerism I haven't grasped yet.....
The final event of the day was a workshop which involved a bit of role-play and an old, old chap objected. "The early Quakers condemned play-acting as a kind of dishonesty" he said, "We should never pretend to be sombody we aren't so I think this exercise is unQuakerish." This is the first time I've heard a modern Quaker come on like a 17th century Puritan. My gorge rose and I wanted to stand up and say, "I have three words for you- Dame Judy Dench"- but that would have been even more unQuakerish so I held my tongue.
The Quakers hire it for £15 an hour.
The auditorium is a square box, painted a deep, dark red- like an abatoir. Yesterday was a hot, airless day and it was stuffy in there even with the big, old-fashioned ceiling fans going round and round.
The Seaford Quakers had laid on a huge spread so we hadn't needed to to bring a pic-nic lunch and we just added our bread and humus and fizzy pop to the total.
During one of the breaks I walked to the beach- only a minute away. There was a breeze down there and very nice it was- coming from the direction of Seaford Head, the spectacular chalk cliff that hems in the town to the East.
I noted that the Little Theatre's next production will be A Dolls' House. An ambitious choice for amateurs, no?
There was a chap from Hove who had chosen the area Meeting as his first experience of Quakerism- and he was asking questions. "So is Quaker worship the same as meditation," he asked. "Sort of," I said. But Sally from Hastings said, "Not exactly," "In meditation you aim to empty your mind. In Quaker worship you leave the mind open and hope something good will be decanted into it." (My words because I forget hers- but that was the sense of them.) Ach! There is still so much about Quakerism I haven't grasped yet.....
The final event of the day was a workshop which involved a bit of role-play and an old, old chap objected. "The early Quakers condemned play-acting as a kind of dishonesty" he said, "We should never pretend to be sombody we aren't so I think this exercise is unQuakerish." This is the first time I've heard a modern Quaker come on like a 17th century Puritan. My gorge rose and I wanted to stand up and say, "I have three words for you- Dame Judy Dench"- but that would have been even more unQuakerish so I held my tongue.
