Diary: Bluebeard, Blood and Bones

There is blood, and lots of it, in 'The Juniper Tree'. Here a mother, possessed by the devil, kills her stepchild before chopping up his body and cooking the remains in a stew that she then feeds to her husband, the boy's father. "Somehow I feel this has got my name on it" he says, innocently tucking in to the remains of his son.

This grizzly incident led to one of the first of many discussions about how to stage some of the more technically difficult parts of the performance. Melly wants the actor playing the father actually to eat the stew containing the "bones", but how to achieve this poses a potential health and safety challenge! The bones have to look realistic, not like plastic, and someone suggests they should be painted, but the Deputy Stage Manager points out that they can't be painted because the paint might come off in the stew (which must be warm) and harm the actor who has to eat it during every performance.

These ancient stories obviously still have the power not only to cause problems for stage managers and actors, but they are also able to move and disturb an audience. They touch on taboo subjects: murder, rape, incest, child-abuse, and infanticide. It isn't all Grimm, occasionally they are humorous and good-natured, sometimes they are wickedly satirical, but then, suddenly and unexpectedly, they turn deadly serious, brutal and tragic. Like dreams, or nightmares, they obey few of the laws of the conscious world, moving instead through the murky sub-conscious, embracing the fantastic and bizarre alongside the realistic and mundane. They are the raw material of theatre that bites.

The actors, Elaine Claxton, Howard Coggins, Elliot Levey, Bill Nash, Zara Ramm, Vineeta Rishi, Jack Tarlton and Kelly Williams, were chosen from fifty hopefuls following four, four hour auditions where, instead of the usual one-on-one meeting with the director, they were asked to work in groups of eight on devising a way of performing one of the stories (Bluebeard). Melly Still was looking for people able to work cooperatively, to use their bodies expressively, and above all to tell the stories with the truth, clarity and economy they demand. The chosen actors will have to play animals - a cow, a wolf, a pig, a bird - as well as a very rich but strange collection of people from beasts to beauties.

Often rehearsals are very technical, with actors having not just to consider the motivation driving the actions of their characters, but also to carefully choreograph complex moves: one moment a dance, the next a gruesome spectacle, or a surreal event such as illustrating a 'cow' falling from the roof of a house and simultaneously propelling a man (who is tied to it) up the chimney. It is hard work.