Well, in England in the 1800’s plays started to deal with stories of everyday people as characters and commercial theatre started to appear in North America.Then came the 19th century with the introduction of electric lighting. Ah, that is so wonderful, no? This great addition, along with the industrial revolution, changed the face of theatre. Theatre became less about content and storyline and concentrated more on special lighting effects and scenery. This era also debuted the talents of such writers as George Bernard Shaw.
And in to the 20th century people. hang in there. You too could win an Emmy after learning all this!

Once again new technology allowed for bigger, brighter and better plays. Theatre went from being a humble play to the ever popular stage show. No longer about simple storylines, the 20th century will be remembered for shows like Tennessee Williams’ Glass Menagerie, Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess, Lloyd Webber’s Cats, The Phantom of the Opera and many many more.

Of course this is just the beginning, what will this new millennium have to offer??? What will your contribution be? Eh scumbag attention seeking morons? What will your contribution be? It might help if you learn to read and write properly first…”


Mr. Dorsey asked Antonia to write a report on the night of the school production ‘Romeo and Juliet’ by William Shakespeare and Giles Gordon.


” Well, first of all Josh had a nasty fall and couldn’t be the leading man. Of course I had to drop out as well because Antony was wracked with jealousy.

And then Giles got called in to take over from Josh at the last minute!

Poor old Giles had to be pushed on to the stage. man, he was so scared! Antony would have been so much braver than geek boy!



But Giles was okay when he saw Octavia on stage. He seemed to be really excited and relaxed at the same time.They did look kinda cute together. It’s a shame that he’s besotted with me. I mean, he never leaves me alone! The play went so well and the crowd just absolutely loved it!



So in conclusion Mr. Dorsey, I’d like to say well done to Giles! I think that he really did well in the writing of the play and I’m sure glad we didn’t have to listen to all that Shakey spear throwing mumbo jumbo talk stuff.”




“Okay, listen up scumbags! I am Vita, personal assistant tothe school principal, Violet Prefusion. Violet would not let me direct the school production of Romeo and Juliet. But she says it is okay for me to let you know a little bit about the history of theatre because I have won 2 Oscars and an Emmy. So! Pay attention. You might just learn something!”

Okay now everybody knows that it was very many years ago that theatre came to be. Theatre can be traced back to around 550BC in Greece. It appears that a man by the name of Thespis won a play competition which was held in honour of the Greek God Dionysus. This of course is where the term “thespian” came from. In this day and age there was a high rate of tragedy in Greece therefore the diversion of a good comedy was a welcome relief.

And where my little scumbags did the word ‘play’ come from? Well, it is a literal translation of the Latin word “ludus”, which means to play. And that brings us to Roman theatre. Roman theatre came about in two forms, one a direct translation from the Greek plays into Latin – this was called Fabula Palliata and the second form was called Fabula Togata – a humorous based play. After the Roman Empire fell many believe theatre fell with it. It lived on of course in the form of street theatre, this form of theatre kept the concept alive through the Middle Ages.

The church then became involved in theatre, depicting their religious holidays and other special events in the religious calendar. These small community plays soon grew into passionate reenactments of such things as the crucifixion of Christ. These were referred to as Passion Plays or Miracle Plays. And then, then came the influence of the Renaissance in the 15th and 16th centuries. The Greek and Roman plays were revived, but this time with more focus on art than religion.

Okay, with me so far? This period was followed by that of Elizabethan and Shakespearian theatre in the 16th and 17th centuries. My favourite time! Although the wonderful Shakespeare was the most notable of playmakers in this time a number of others also deserve credit including Christopher Marlowe and Ben Johnson.

Now, Shakespeare’s plays were all written and performed in very formal English. Although would you believe that Shakespeare’s works were more relaxed and natural than a number of other playwrites in his time?! Shakespeare’s better known works include Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Nights Dream, The Merchant of Venice, Twelfth Night, Othello and many more.

Wake up Attention Seekers! We are jumping forward in time… over the years theatre became accessible to everyone.





Five Dances of Sunset Cove

  1. The Tango
  2. The Chimichanga
  3. The Tra la la
  4. The Chicken Dance
  5. Swan Lake

My most favourite time to dance is when I am alone. I can dance in the shower. I can dance when I cook my dinner. I can even dance when I am asleep.

My Mama said that when I was a young girl I used to wake up the household as I performed Swan Lake in my sleep. It was all okay until I grabbed a hold of my brother and sister’s hands and tried to get them to dance with me. They weren’t too happy because they were trying to sleep and got scared when they woke up on the High Street in the moonlight.

I really love to dance at the beach under the stars and it is best when the waves are crashing up around my ankles and the wind blows my hair. The sand is a great dance floor and if you can get the seagulls to join in then you almost have a show worthy of the West End.

My dancing has got me into trouble before though. One night Commander Vermont was called in to question me as the military thought that I was a witch dancing a spell on the High Street. There was a full moon but I do not think that I looked like a witch. Holy Banales, I had to chant and howl to give myself a tune to dance to. Anyway, the Commander seemed to think that I was trying to make contact with a spacecraft and so he actually joined in with my dance and let me tell you something, that man can howl like a wolf.

I like to dance to keep myself fit and a lot of people like to copy my moves. Violet tried to copy my backward shuffle jive but her wig fell over her eyes and she ended up at the Bay Hospital with whiplash and an injury to her handbag. She got addicted to grapes and mandarin oranges when she was there and then had to stay in for another fortnight because she had a Vitamin overload.

Anyway, I think that everyone should dance and I would like to finish this by saying that if all the world was a stage then all the people would be dancing. And if you would like to learn to dance then just listen to the music in your head. Even if it is the theme tune to Coronation Street then just put your flat cap on, tuck your pigeon under your arm and dance the night away.

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“Yes, it is true that red-blooded Latinos love to dance and I want to tell you all about my love of it.”



It is the traditional dance of love, the tango. And it is the dance that I love to love. I get into my spangly dress and climb into my strappy sparkly sandals and grab myself a partner. Shane is the one that I normally choose because he has real rhythm and his toned torso looks so good when he gets a lycra spandex suit on.

Picture this – Sunset Cavern on a Sunday afternoon. All the residents in their finery after a stroll along the beach. Sure they have sand in their hair and up their nostrils but it all adds to the atmosphere.

I take Shane by the hand and lead him out onto the dance floor as Gilbert and his team of unprofessional musicians strikes up the first tune. They normally start out with the Three Legged Flight of the Flamingo but I am so ready for a tango that I take up my position anyway.

Shane stares into my eyes – Shane says, “So that I can see my reflection” – and we start to dance. Faster and faster; as the flamingo takes flight we twirl and twist around the dance floor. The sparkles on Shane’s suit catch the light of the disco ball and flicker intriguing shadows on his face. The flickers set off an epileptic fit for Madame Buffet but we carry on with our dance of passion, as there are plenty of people trained in the arts of first aid.

Shane stops only to make sure that everyone is watching him as Madame is taken away in an ambulance and then we twist again, twist ourselves into a whirlwind of sequins and spangles.

As the music stops I catch my breath and try to still my beating heart. I look up into Shane’s face and he looks as if he is about to kiss me, the passion of the dance transferred into the passion of his heart. But he is just falling over as his sports shoes slip on the highly polished wood of the floor. We fall together and the lights come back on. The dance is finished. The aerobics class is about to begin and Shane leaves me to change back into his shorts to lead the class.

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After dinner everyone gathers in the village square to watch the Flamenco dancers. I am of course the best dancer there is but I like to look at how the other girls do their thing and I know that they will always drag me up to dance because of my beauty and personality and my passion for the dance.

It was on a night like this that I met my first love. His name was Paulo and he was a bullfighter. He has the most beautiful blue eyes and black hair that you have ever seen and he loved to perform the death defying feats of bull fighting.

The only trouble was that he had a blue cape. He was not the most successful matador in the world but he was the best looking and so the audience was mostly women on the days that he was fighting.

Paulo was a showman and he certainly knew how to get the crowd up on their feet. But this backfired on him one sultry afternoon in Seville. Paulo was in the ring for a show by the Young Matador Association. He was the third matador to enter the ring and the crowd were looking forward to a good show. The first two young matadors had been taken away on stretchers after a particularly nasty bull had managed to maim them with his horns.

Paulo wasn’t worried as he knew that with a flick of his cape and a flutter of his eyelashes that the bull would be won over and that the crowd would be screaming his name.

Paulo entered the arena and women in the stands started to flutter their eyelashes and their fans in anticipation of a great show. Paulo strode around the arena swirling his blue cape as the bull was let loose and charged towards Paulo with thunder in his steps. The ground shook as the bull ran faster and faster, head dipped and horns at the ready to impale Paulo’s beautiful bronzed body.

The crowd gasped in unison as the bull got closer to Paulo and just at the precise second that Paulo was about to pull his cape away and let the bull run past him, the bull screeched to a halt and rolled over on its back in submission.

The crowd went wild; Paulo had won over the bull! Such a feat had never before been seen and Paulo was a national hero. His fame only served to make his ego and vanity bigger as the days passed and it was with a big head and an arrogant stare that he entered the bullring in Madrid.

Once again, Paulo swaggered around the ring with his blue cape held at this side. The bull ran into the ring and charged. The audience leapt to their feet in anticipation of the famous move that Paulo was about to make. Paulo smiled wildly as he swept the cape away at just the right second and … caught himself in the eye, fell over and was trampled by the bull.

I never saw Paulo again. His whole attitude changed after he came out of the ring bruised and blinded by the cape. His adoring audience turned against him, angry that their hard earned pesetas had been wasted on a flouncey fake like Paulo. He went to live in the hills around Majorca and became a pianist.

He might well be out of my life but whenever I return to Spain and spend time in the hills I remember Paulo and my summer of romance with him all that time ago…Next page