Fizzing with wit and invention: Tracey Sinclair reviews The Hiccup Project’s performance at the Brighton Festival.
Nudity made mundane: Tracey Sinclair reviews a night that’s midway between burlesque show and literary salon.
Underpinned with a fury at the injustice of it all: Tracey Sinclair is completely won over by Jonny Donahoe and Paddy Gervers’ musical about ‘Rich Bastard Tories’.
Tracey Sinclair reviews Tamara Saulwick’s meditation on modern death as part of the Brighton Festival.
Despite a slightly muddled production, Tracey Sinclair finds that Arthur Miller’s The Crucible remains as compelling and relevant as ever.
More than a greatest hits medley: Tracey Sinclair reviews Split Britches’s revisiting of over three decades of work.
Seeking a friend for the end of the world: Tracey Sinclair reviews Kieran Hurley’s apocalyptic one-man show.
“I find myself getting up…and saying my piece”. Tracey Sinclair writes on her unexpectedly personal response to ‘Working Class Dinner Party’, hosted by performance artists Scottee, Selina Thompson and Bryony Kimmings.
Ancient Greece set to synth pop: Tracey Sinclair reviews Pecho Mama’s retelling of the Medea myth.
Singing us out in style: Tracey Sinclair reviews Dom Coyote & the Bloodmonkeys’ apocalyptic gig theatre.
A joy to watch: Tracey Sinclair reviews Jessica Swale’s Nell Gwynn, as part of its UK tour.
Over-mannered and under-nuanced: Tracey Sinclair reviews Anthony Banks’ production of Gaslight.
“Understands the poignant, personal nature of true fandom”: Tracey Sinclair reviews Adrian Berry’s tribute to the influence of David Bowie.
Slight, but suitably spooky: Tracey Sinclair reviews a double bill of shows at the Brighton HorrorFest.
More a comedy of manners than compelling romance: Tracey Sinclair reviews Simon Reade’s new stage adaptation of E.M. Forster’s novel.