Wow, look at that. Another week gone by. And what a week it's been! Thank you to everyone who attended the EGM on Friday and congratulations to all those who ran for committee positions. It is with beaming delight that I announce our new committee members: Tara Carlin, who is taking over as Volunteering Coordinator, and Amy Reade who is your new Freshers' Representative. *uproarious applause* Give them a friendly hello and a congratulatory handshake at the next social and I'm sure they'll return the favour!
Hiya chickens, did you miss me?
Well, what have we got for you this email... What? Yet more auditions and bid opportunities? Yes, best beloveds. And, to further excite your eager eyes, the Secretary has this week decided to stray boldly into experimentation with the formatting tools at her disposal just to spice things up a little bit. And because exclamation marks and block capitals can only go so far to express the overwhelming excitement that washes over me as I compose these weekly epistles.
As ever, enjoy.
First and foremost and front of the line a MAHOOSIVE congratulations to all the cast and production teams of the Freshers' Plays that took place over the weekend. They really were a remarkable achievement and I won't deny that I feel personally conflicted by the awe and jealousy I'm feeling towards all these funky freshers.
So I guess now we can take our foot off the accelerator, kick back, and rel- NO! The drama society never sleeps! It's really kicking off this week, and honestly I've got red bull on tap and an ipod blasting some gym beats just to power me through this email. I even put a colon in the title. That goes to show just how important this email is. All that's left for me to say is *deep breath* hold on to your hats, kids!
Good evening cherubs! Hope you've all been having a dramatic week - I know I have! (...don't even get me started on my broken washing machine...)
If your appetite for theatrics has not yet been sated this week, then have no fear! The provisional title for this email was 'Too Many Things to Condense Into a Concise Title' which goes some way to illustrate just what a barrage of tasty opportunities and events I will be flinging your way. Without much further ado, I present - THE EMAIL!
(Snacks may or may not be provided)
Good evening to all and a warm welcome to everyone who signed up to the mailing list at the Freshers' Fair today! You people of discerning taste now have the privilege of being on the mailing list of the official Best Arts society at UCL 2015-2016 (we've got a plaque to prove it). Our regular emails are jam-packed with information about auditions, events, workshops, and socials - all of which can also be found on our Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/UCLUDramaSoc/
It may only be the first week of term, but the Drama Society is already BUZZING with activity. The first productions of the year - the Freshers' Showcase and Plays - are being nursed in preproduction in anticipation of auditions kick-starting this weekend. At the same time Drama Committee will be busy, buzzy bees trying to recruit enthusiastic new members at the Freshers' Fair this weekend (1st and 2nd October). Do come and say hello and spread the dramatic love to the super funky freshers.
As you are surely well aware the deadline for the first batch of bids is fast approaching - faster, indeed, than my tan is fading. Before you scramble in a last minute panic to fill in your bid forms please bear in mind the important information in this email concerning performance rights for Drama Society plays. ALSO (arguably more importantly, depending on your priorities) take a moment to jot down some dates in your social calendar - the Freshers' Showcase and the first Phineas social of the year!
A quick reminder to everyone in the hot weather to regularly re-apply sunscreen. And (arguably) more importantly that the deadline for Freshers' Plays, Showcase, and term 1 Garage bids is just over a week away (23:59 on Friday 23rd September) so keep those bids coming in! Also in my haste and excitement I forgot to mention that 50% of the ticket sales from Garage plays goes to Stage Crew Society - this is something to bear in mind when filling out your budget form.
Once again, the bid and budget forms are attached to this email so you don't have to wade through your downloads trying to find them (I know - how gracious!).
Good luck and happy bidding!! :-)
Pinch, punch, first of the month. Yes, best beloveds, the eagerly anticipated date has arrived at long last. The bids for Freshers' Plays, Showcase, and Term 1 Garage are now OPEN! *rapturous applause*
So get your completed bid forms and budgets (which you will find attached to this email) sent in to email@example.com.
The deadline for all of these bids is 23:59 on Friday 23rd September and bid interviews will be on Monday 26th September (we will accept Skype and phone interviews).
A hearty hello to all!
It is with no small amount of trepidation and a monumtenal amount of faffing with passwords and formatting that I compose my inaugural email as drama society secretary, with the torch having been passed down to me from the mighty Jack Tivey. I hope you're all enjoying a restful summer, although I know that for many dramatic fanatics there is such a thing as being too restful. And so without further ado I will allay your craving for news and intrigue from the world of UCL drama with a warm message of welcome from our newly appointed president Matthew Turbett and information concerning the first bidding opportunities of the year.
I have subjected my once-worn keyboard to a righteous shaking, and the dust that fell was thick and musty. Indeed it is true that I have not proclaimed the happenings of the society in recent times, which does lay a sizable weight of shame upon my once unburdened brain.
The summer doth roll along, and the multitude of the Drama society are assaulting my various media forms with their holiday pictures at the rate of frames per second only comparable with a highly advanced film camera, serving to sparken my envy. And yet, the stalwart Dramatics continue their mighty work, in their labours to create such summer art as befits our reputation and previous glories.
Read onward and below, and thus read our details.
Jubilant Greetings Friends!
My fingers move with the freedom of an unihibited and unburdened mind, as I hail you with joyful virtual cries amid this, the grace period, betwixt the hardship of examination, and the inevitable woe that cometh with the discovery of results. The heavens did crack and from thence has a heavenly song emitted, in concentrated direct beams of divine sanction, to us, who gradually, as each day passeth, shall each grasp the mighty reins of our own personal liberty, bedecked in the glamour and shimmer of our joy, and become the pilot of our own destinies once again. As the foul stench of the examinations gradually fades away, like the latter draining dregwater of a flood, we find 'neath the once sorrowful water the chance to practice our most fine art, like a gem it shineth and has protruded once again into the centre of our attention, and thus we shall march mightily and gloriously towards the opportunity for drama and performance, that hath been made so abundant by our goodly society.
Cast aside your knowledge and analysis caps, throw them forth unto the dun waters of the odourous Thames, and cry aloud for that which is your destiny - to rightly audition for the term 3 plays. They are great in their variety and magnitude, they are high in their quality and capacity for enjoyment, and they are the culmination of our year, and all the hard graft as a result shall soon be forgot, for ye shall now enjoy the rewards and blessings of the twilight days of this academic year.
Comiserations to all ye who still yet have further trials to endure, but see this jubilant greeting as a precursor, a whiff of the greatness to come, and thus the last ounce of motivation for you to utterly shatter your exams, as if an evil foe.
Read below, for helpful details, and spurring thoughts of opportunity.
I call thusly unto you, faintly, like a distant passenger desperate for a moment of attention and to thereby relieve you from the hefty burden that is likely oppressing your mind. The exam period has left me spent, like a puffed out seal after a long overland trek, and yes, I am conducting such academic trekking with about the same amount of grace as a puffed out seal. And furthermore, some evil fate decided that I should ingloriously fracture my foot on a mere domestic stair - not in battle, or whilst wrestling a shark in order to save a puppy, but a domestic, infuriatingly inanimate and indifferent stair, one that would not even have the decency cry out when I hit it and called it rude names to sate my fury at how something so lowly should inflict such an injury... Thus making me a sorry seal with a massive HDPE boot on his left flipper. I'll conserve my befrothed mouth for a more appropriate juncture.
At present, there are tasty bites of information pertaining to the most Dramatic Society that you can all lap up.
A brief reminder to all of the Thespic Throng.
The last day of Bug auditions is tomorrow - it is sure to be a fantastic show, one which you can land a part in now, and then sit back in smug security until rehearsals start after the exam period.
Here is the link for the auditions tomorrow - https://www.facebook.com/events/1541416686153307/
Auditions shall take place 15:00-19:00 tomorrow in the rehearsal room in the Bloomsbury Rehearsal Room, which is on the first floor of the Bloomsbury Theatre building.
A brief overview -
Living and hiding from her violent ex-husband in a run-down Oklahoma motel room, the waitress Agnes is introduced to Peter, a Gulf War veteran with severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and paranoia fantasies. The two start an ambiguous relationship, as Peter reveals all his conspiracy theories on government surveillance. Initially dubious, Agnes grows to believe Peter’s theories, and Peter, usually stricken with confusion and paranoia, finds a sense of control and dominance in their relationship. The soldier, now aware of the power he exerts over the waitress, begins hatching plans involving her partaking to solve and counter the conspiracies, experimenting and testing the lengths Agnes will go to under his guidance.
I heartily advise all to audition as a wee procrastination break, for it shall sharpen your focus, and shall only take a few minutes!
Oh sweet and pleasant Dramatics. Though your life may be oppressed in the languor of semi-enthusiastic revision, or mayhaps the maddened flurry of activity that cometh with soaring panic over examinations that approach like thundering train, uninhibited, unrelenting, uncompromising, and imposing in its speed, you may detect, a hint, a whiff, a tiny and distant fragrance merely teasing your nostrils like far off doughnut stand, that cannot yet be seen, but faintly can be smelt.
That is the doughbut stand of salvation. And it serves pure, unvarnished, excellent, innovative, and inclusive drama, all in one sugary ring of pure doughnut delicacy. Perceive its faint odour, and wait patiently, slowly pace towards that salivatory inducing salvation, with a determined steely gaze fixed upon the future bliss of chomping on the full bounty of the society's shows.
Massacre your exams like a legendary Viking in the glory of Valhalla, and await the feast that cometh fast and true.
Read on for the coming glories.
I must dispense with pleasantries, for I am assailed by deadlines of a rather desperate nature.
Is this a dissertation I see before me? Nay. 'Tis but a lacklustre shadow of a stupid idea I had in January which I am now thoroughly bored of... But to Drama!
I sincerely hope that your days are spent in pleasant leisure, and you do not find yourselves utterly paralysed by the swamp of work that is slowly ingesting you into it's dark and soily innards. As for the society, at present, belike it is as the latent lioness, sprawled about underneath the shady canopy of a typical serengeti tree, watching through half-closed eyes as we, her cubs, spring about in the sunshine of holidaying. And upon the approrpuate hour, she shall pounce forth, glittering golden into the sun, ready to hunt the glorious prey that is dramatic endeavour.
I yearn for such a day whilst I sit here in relentless boredom.
I have crawled, slowly and painfully from my cesspit of want and despair, utterly consumed in an Ancient Historical Dissertation, my eyes all a-scarlet, my mind befuzzed by a distinct lack of sweet slumber, to desperately cast forth with the last of my sanity this email unto all ye and the wider world.
The Spring hath set itself upon the cheeks of all in the form of the pleasant sun, and many recline in the joyous bounty of its healthifying rays. Folk have now sprung into spring lacking their once precious woollenwear and coats, allowing their hair and shirts to billow in the levity of the spring breeze.
I gaze with envy upon the frolicking folk of the city, from my most pokey of windows, fat and weighty tears all a-building 'pon the crests of my lower eyelids, I, willing for them not to fall, fight the despairing and arresting sadness that completely paralyses me when I see those who are free to walk in the sun, whilst I transfix an empty stair on letters and characters, devoid of meaning, but vaguely pertaining to banditry in the Roman Empire.
Now that you have felt my pain, procure details of joy by reading onwards.
I wept long and massy tears upon the paving slabs of Gordon St. kneeling, buckled and broken under the weight of my realisation. I had, alas, just had the last teaching class of my degree. All that lay before me was the bedrudgery of academic burdens, the hard graft and labour of a barrage of assessed written word. My dissertation deadline lying in cunning wait, like a peckish tiger in a Bangladeshi forest, to pounce on my poor unprepared soul.
Further woe did smote my heart upon unhappy realisation that I, Jack, who liveth off the bounty of his dramatic friends and their effervescent company, would be banished from our cuddly artistic bubble ere the chance to perform again. For two months, two long months, I would remain in exile, the hard embrace of an uncaring and parasitic beast ever clinging to my torn form, the parasitic beast that is obligation, absent the freeing spirit of the society, offering it's usual avenue of escape to brighter, greener meadows.
All weary of my tear ducts' emptiness, all shattered and fractured upon the pavement, light rain bespattering my spent form I gravely mustered what strength I had and rose to face the cascading droplets from on high. Befuddled London-folk swiftly passing by, ignorant of the magnanimity of pain inhabiting the husk of a once fresh male student.
Thus I came to write the email to find solace.
Friends, we are on the cusp of the end to this, our second term. Many of the goodly folk of the society have wept or cheered at the exam timetable, and perceived through this, the harbinger of the end, coming days of peace and joy. Other such harbingers are the two gems in our societal crown, the auditions for our two Edinburgh plays, and the closure of the studio bids for term three, once the exams are over and we have been liberated to frolic unbridled by academia in the lushest fields of theatre. Pay your attention to the tasks and events at hand, for, exams are not an excuse yet, and the Dramatic world is, as always baying for your attention.
Last night I did see a spectacle to behold also - the colossal talent of Charlie Crossley, Cora Burridge and Co. was practically bursting out of their very exteriors with a heavenly warmth, radiating from their excellent renditions of students bequeathed with unusual powers, of foresight, and insight into the future and past... Bring the grace of your presence to the Bloomsbury studio today and offer welcome support to our brave actors.
Lo, the details.