Common

30th May 2017 - 5th Aug 2017

Book Tickets

The House They Grew Up In

14th Jul 2017 - 5th Aug 2017

Book Tickets

Labour of Love

27th Sep 2017 - 2nd Dec 2017

Book Tickets

  • Subjectivity on Stage

    Sarah Grochala | Nov. 4, 2015

    Duncan Macmillan’s People, Places and Things is an unusual play because we see the events of the story subjectively, though the eyes of its main character, Emma. We experience the world as she experiences it. When Emma takes drugs, the lights glow brighter and voices slow down. People seem to become other people. Objects disappear and reappear unexpectedly. When her experience of events becomes fragmented, the action of the play becomes fragmented. We see her world from the inside, as opposed to seeing the reality of the events that she is experiencing from the outside.

  • A Decade of Difference

    Dan Hutton | Oct. 20, 2015

    Drawing inspiration from Bill Bryson's One Summer, Dan Hutton explores the context of 1927 America and its relevance to The Glass Menagerie.

  • 1984 and Contemporary Surveillance

    Headlong in association with the Cultural Institute at King's | Jan. 12, 2015

    People often refer to the idea that we are living in 1984 when talking about contemporary surveillance culture, but to what extent is that a valid observation? How much do contemporary forms of surveillance actually resemble the forms of surveillance that Orwell imagines in 1984? 

    Dr. Btihaj Ajana, Dr. Claudia Aradau and Prof. Alex Callinicos discuss the relationship between Orwell's own experiences in post-war London, his vision of 1984 and our contemporary surveillance society.

    Chaired by Sarah Grochala.

     

  • On Being Patrick Bateman

    David Eldridge | Jan. 24, 2014

    In his original incarnation, Patrick Bateman is (literally) deadly dull.

    His life is hollow, defined by designer clothes, exclusive restaurants and elaborate personal grooming routines – all described in excruciatingly banal detail. Regarded by his own attorney as a “brown-nosed goody-goody,” Bateman strives so hard to fit in with his elitist Wall Street culture that he becomes totally indistinguishable from his arrogant yuppie peers.

    What should gain him a distinctive identity are his horrifically sadistic murderous activities. Yet ultimately, even these “mean nothing,” for, when Bateman confesses, nobody believes that he could even “pick up a call-girl, let alone chop her up.’” Indeed, the only place Bateman is cool and charismatic is in his own psychotic head, from which, in the first-person narration of Bret Easton Elllis’ novel, there is no exit.