Go into any rehearsal room, anywhere in the country, and you will find a woman in a tracksuit doing the downward-facing dog. She’ll probably be in a hoodie. She’ll probably have a topknot. Near her will almost certainly be a man eating something out of a vending machine. And I am glad to say that the National Theatre rehearsal room for Table was no different.

Of course, I was thrilled to be invited to everyone’s favourite riverside institution to watch rehearsals for The Table. Directed by Rufus Norris, the show will open The National Theatre Shed, which is exciting in itself. But, there is also something about watching a new play getting chiseled and exhaled into life before your eyes that is slightly intoxicating. 

For those of you who live outside of London (or in a bin), The Shed is a huge red edifice – part cabin, part abandoned Lego brick, part Battersea Power Station, part castle – that sprung up outside The National Theatre a few weeks ago. While The Cottesloe Theatre – the building’s smaller studio space – is being done up, The Shed will host a whole programme of new and innovative plays, including Edinburgh favourite Mission Drift and Bullet Catch. 

But let’s get back to Table. I spent much of the afternoon sitting – sandwiched, if you will – between writer Tanya Ronder and director Rufus Norris. The day I visited was the last rehearsal before the final script went to print. Somehow, despite years of working in print and theatre, it had never really occurred to me that, at some point, you’ve got to put the words on lockdown. So, while the atmosphere was febrile with the kind of creativity you’d expect from a brand-new devised show for a pop-up theatre space, I couldn’t help but feel for Tanya as she tried to scribble something "final" into existence.

The rehearsal – like the show itself – centred around a large wooden table (I hardly think this counts as a spoiler). When I arrived, Paul Hilton was lying beneath it, conducting an invisible and silent orchestra, whistling Dear Lord and Father of Mankind. The rest of the cast, meanwhile, was deciding whether to sing or whistle. “It’s a Rufus show – it’s got to have whistling in it,” quips the musical director. Two hours, much whistling, humming, conducting and quick costume-changes later, the cast launched into their first full run through.

Now, in his post on The Shed blog, Associate Director Ben Power says that he wants audiences to walk into the theatre, “genuinely not knowing what to expect.” And far be it from me to step on the toes of a man called Power. So I shall simply say that with director’s notes like, “Have a proper old squeal”, “Invent the airplane”, “Let’s feel patriotic” and “Don’t mind the gas mask”, this intergenerational domestic drama is set to provide an innovative opener for this glorious theatrical shed.

And there we have it – a whole column on sheds and not a single Cuprinol joke. Well done me.

More Upstaged

Upstaged: Doing it in the dark

Upstaged: Theatre as training

Illustration by Isabel Stewart 

To find out more about The National Theatre Shed, visit the website.

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