Life on the edge - council estate living told over 60 years

on young Dorothy’s odyssey to the Emerald City in search of hearts, minds and courage. Creative use of minimal casts, sets, props, and the constant shifting scale between puppets and looked forward to starting a family. She was looking forward to working. actors is where the magic of Willmott’s storytelling lies.

In 1989, African migrants Grace and George, take in their young relative Joy, while escaping civil war in their homeland.

2015 sees the estate ousting all its residents and having a complete refurb in order to sell off the flats to private buyers. Enter Poppy, up from London to escape a failed relationship. And telling her workmates that you can get fresh turmeric delivered by Ocado does not endear her to new work colleagues, who think she is ‘posh’ and lives on ‘lobster and Viennetas’.

The story progresses simultaneously while jumping from era to era. And, as in life, the promised sunlit uplands become unlit wastelands. The hopes and dreams turn into unemployment. The reality of a safe haven for refugees is another fight for life against racism. The young love of Harry and Rose sours when the steel factory is closed off and union activist Harry feels as if he has failed as a man; finding masculinity in a bottle.

Dorothy, a puppet ably assisted by Elizabeth Huskisson, was dressed in iconic gingham but with inexplicably oddly cropped hair.

Straying from the original story, Olivia MacDonald played the Tinman as a robot who interrupted the action to reveal ‘fun facts’- a somewhat incongruous trope which felt clumsy. Ian MacNaughton, however, brought some laughter to the role of the Lion.

This production will be more familiar to those who know Frank L Baum’s original book so the famous songs from the 1939 film are few. Those that are included were a little under-rehearsed, leading one young reviewer to report that the production was ‘a little wonky’.

All in all it was a wonderful experience to stroll from home and be entertained by a local theatre company, especially when tickets are sold on a pay-whatyou-can-afford basis and are free to those accessing food banks or subsidised school meals.

The generous gift of ambitious theatrical experience from cast and director, wonky or straight, will always win over hearts and minds, especially when you can get there quicker than Dorothy can click her little ruby-slippered heels together.

The Hithe, 71-75 Albion Street, Rotherhithe, SE16 7JA until 26th February.

Full details & tickets from: www.myplayhouse.uk

Standing At The Sky’s Edge refers to the view from the flats and its story is a real one. The struggling couple who pass each other between their different work shifts with only time to say ‘I love you’; the dreams that come to nothing; the sad ending of young lives through drugs or pointless violence; people separated by sadness and the everyday occurrence of racism… ‘No one cared about Park Hill until you posh pricks came here,’ says one former resident. ‘No one cared when junkies were shooting up in the lifts and people were getting stabbed all the time.’ There is so much more to this perfect ensemble production that needs to be seen and experienced properly. Robert Hastie’s superb direction shows an estate busy with positivity, but which darkens as the years go by. Ben Stones’ set is brutal, as it should be. The singing often catches you by surprise, such as when a little African refugee, who initially struggled to understand the local dialect, belts out a big bluesy number, or Maimuna Memon gives a tremendous Open Up Your Door to a lost love.

ANOTher dAy on park hill estate, the dawn chorus is in full flow and the cast sings: ‘As the dawn breaks over roof slates, hope hung on every washing line,’ writes Michael Holland...

This is how Standing At The Sky’s Edge opens, a musical about a council estate in Sheffield with music and lyrics by Richard Hawley - who has spent most of his life writing songs about Sheffield - and book by Chris Bush.

Having grown up on a council estate built in the 50s with hopes of a bright future for everyone, when there were plenty of jobs to go round, the story mirrors my own background as I can relate to how the early modernity of the late 50s faded away to a recession-hit 70s, a council that couldn’t keep up the maintenance and the demise of local industry taking away jobs before the rot finally sets in and redevelopers take over to social cleanse the area. That is the story of Park Hill told through the eyes of three different families over 60 years.

Newly-weds Rose and Harry moved into the brand new flats that overlooked the city in 1960. He was about to be made the youngest foreman in the country and

Young Joy, who has been pretty much imprisoned by Auntie Grace to keep her safe, still manages to get pregnant, while Thatcher gets re-elected and bangs in the final nail on the Park Hill coffin.

Hawley’s songs give us a place of reference to look out from, even if it is the gutter, while at the same time allowing the middle-class something to look down on and pity. The band providing the music is on the first floor, just where the wardrobe and mattress were thrown from during a riot that ended the first half.

There is no positive, uplifting side to this work unless you are one of the rich moving out the not so rich. No loose ends are tied up, the play just stops but we know that people will carry on until the estate falls into disrepair once more. It is just life. Real life with all its ups and downs and looking for love.

National Theatre, South Bank, SE1 9PX until March 25th. Times: Mon-Sat 7.30pm; Wed & Sat matinees 2pm. Admission: £20 - £89

Booking: nationaltheatre.org.uk

A lOCAl historian has made a fascinating documentary about Bermondsey’s leather industry., writes Herbie Russell...

‘Bermondsey Leather Trail’, available on YouTube, explains how the area became the UK’s most prominent leather manufacturer in the 19th century.

Ian Stone, the King’s College London research fellow behind the documentary, told the News: “I’ve been asked to write a book about the leather industry and Bermondsey is a big part of that.

“The documentary was a way of collecting my thoughts on the early period and getting it out to a wider audience.”

Ian has urged people to comment on his YouTube documentary, especially if they have memories or photos of relatives who worked in the trade.

“The documentary was a way of collecting my thoughts on the early period and getting it out to a wider audience.”

Ian has urged people to comment on his YouTube documentary, especially if they have memories or photos of relatives who worked in the trade.

Bermondsey began producing leather as far back as the fifteenth century when it would have been exported to Hanseatic League trading posts - a confederation of market towns across Northern and Central Europe.

By the 1790s, with industrialisation gathering steam, Bermondsey was producing a third of the UK’s leather. The area was perfect for leathermaking. It was a stone’s throw from the docks but also downriver, meaning the manufacturing process’s unpleasant smells wouldn’t waft over the City.

The Great North Wood, a sprawling forest stretching from Bermondsey to

Bromley, provided ample oak bark needed for tanning.

The River Neckinger, the name-sake of the modern-day Neckinger Estate, also provided leather workers with a reliable source of fresh water.

By 1833, trade had outgrown Leadenhall Market and the leading tanners of Bermondsey erected the Leathermarket on Weston Street.

In 1878, having raised a behemoth £50,000, merchants and leathermakers built the grand London Leather Hide & Wool Exchange.

The building included a private gentlemen’s club on the first floor - now home to The Leather Exchange pub. Central to the industry’s success was Colonel Samuel Bourne Bevington, who set up the Worshipful Company of Leather. The Bevingtons plied their trade at the Neckinger Mills in 1806, and a statue of the colonel is on Tooley Street today. Bermondsey’s industry declined with the invention of the motor car as less leather was needed for saddles and horse-riding gear.

The nail in the coffin came in the 1960s when plastic provided a cheaper alternative to many leather-made products.