Lisa Wolfe , Brighton Fringe Review , May 2023 |
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Low Down
Trains, planes and Bernie Eccleston feature in a mini-epic adventure into history and heritage in post-war Essex. Using hand-made models of cars and people, film and photography, there’s lots to learn and to love in Chris Dobrowolski’s new show, premiering at Brighton Fringe.
Written and performed by Chris Dobrowlski, with co-writer & director Paul Bourne for Menagerie Theatre.
Review
Chris Dobrowolski declares himself a fraud. He’s not a performer, he’s a visual artist pretending. Not quite true – he has a couple of very successful ‘theatre’ pieces in his back catalogue – but a key driver of his art is the question of authenticity and what makes things real.
In the atmospheric and perfectly matched surroundings of Brighton Toy and Model Museum (what, you’ve never been? Go, it’s a jewel) with just a screen and a paddle for pointing, Chris takes us on a whizz-bang journey from his early obsession with cars, to making models and kinetic sculpture, becoming an artist on the university lecture circuit and way beyond.
Many people have tight emotional attachments to childhood toys. Most of mine were taken away when I was twelve and I still search flea markets for a sailor doll with an HMS Mauritania hat. Chris is currently living in the Essex home he grew up in, with his 91 year old mum, surrounded by mementoes and memories of his personal history.
Confident and relatable in his easy-going delivery, with proper Essex swearing, Chris weaves a narrative that connects the life of his Polish father and their German friend on a post-war housing estate, where streets are named after military heroes, with his own artistic development. The history of place, how the local becomes universal brings the story full circle in an hour packed with juicy information. Sounds a bit formal, more biographical lecture than art? Not so, because everything is illustrated through Chris’s fantastic miniature models, choreographed and story-boaded, mixing real with fake, still images with film, documentary footage with invented scenarios. As an artist he gets an idea and runs with it; his residency at Bedford Libraries is a joy. Like Richard DeDomenici turning the De La Warr Pavilion into a crazy golf course, he knows how playful art brings people together.
What begins as biography stealthily develops into a manifesto against right-wing governments, fascism and the ideology of our current political leaders. Priti Patel is a local MP; Chris shows her spitting out refugees who float off in a tiny dinghy, probably filmed in his bath-tub. It’s a quietly elegiac moment in this busy, buzzy hour.
There’s some nervous energy in this second ever performance that will relax over time into a more conversational style, and a bit of trimming wouldn’t go amiss but Toy Stories feels like a keeper.
Trains, planes and Bernie Eccleston feature in a mini-epic adventure into history and heritage in post-war Essex. Using hand-made models of cars and people, film and photography, there’s lots to learn and to love in Chris Dobrowolski’s new show, premiering at Brighton Fringe.
Written and performed by Chris Dobrowlski, with co-writer & director Paul Bourne for Menagerie Theatre.
Review
Chris Dobrowolski declares himself a fraud. He’s not a performer, he’s a visual artist pretending. Not quite true – he has a couple of very successful ‘theatre’ pieces in his back catalogue – but a key driver of his art is the question of authenticity and what makes things real.
In the atmospheric and perfectly matched surroundings of Brighton Toy and Model Museum (what, you’ve never been? Go, it’s a jewel) with just a screen and a paddle for pointing, Chris takes us on a whizz-bang journey from his early obsession with cars, to making models and kinetic sculpture, becoming an artist on the university lecture circuit and way beyond.
Many people have tight emotional attachments to childhood toys. Most of mine were taken away when I was twelve and I still search flea markets for a sailor doll with an HMS Mauritania hat. Chris is currently living in the Essex home he grew up in, with his 91 year old mum, surrounded by mementoes and memories of his personal history.
Confident and relatable in his easy-going delivery, with proper Essex swearing, Chris weaves a narrative that connects the life of his Polish father and their German friend on a post-war housing estate, where streets are named after military heroes, with his own artistic development. The history of place, how the local becomes universal brings the story full circle in an hour packed with juicy information. Sounds a bit formal, more biographical lecture than art? Not so, because everything is illustrated through Chris’s fantastic miniature models, choreographed and story-boaded, mixing real with fake, still images with film, documentary footage with invented scenarios. As an artist he gets an idea and runs with it; his residency at Bedford Libraries is a joy. Like Richard DeDomenici turning the De La Warr Pavilion into a crazy golf course, he knows how playful art brings people together.
What begins as biography stealthily develops into a manifesto against right-wing governments, fascism and the ideology of our current political leaders. Priti Patel is a local MP; Chris shows her spitting out refugees who float off in a tiny dinghy, probably filmed in his bath-tub. It’s a quietly elegiac moment in this busy, buzzy hour.
There’s some nervous energy in this second ever performance that will relax over time into a more conversational style, and a bit of trimming wouldn’t go amiss but Toy Stories feels like a keeper.
Luisa De la Concha Montes,
The Play's The Thing UK
British Theatre & Performance Criticism
June 23 (Brighton Fringe )
The Play's The Thing UK
British Theatre & Performance Criticism
June 23 (Brighton Fringe )
This is not a conventional play. Part artist manifesto, part PowerPoint presentation, this incredibly creative show explores the life and work of artist Chris Dobrowlski. The setting for this show couldn’t be more perfect. Nestled between model train tracks and vintage toys, Chris’ performance takes place inside Brighton’s Toy Museum (which, funnily enough, is also below Brighton’s train station).
As we enter the venue, we are asked to look at a video playing on an old television set, which is also Chris’ work. On the screen, there is a model car going around in circles on top of a stack of papers with the lockdown government guidelines. We see a model toy version of Boris Johnson and Telegraph and Guardian newspaper sellers wearing masks, while “I’m Bored” by Iggy Pop plays in the background. This sets the mood for the show, making clear that humour is embedded into Chris’ visual language.
The show opens with Chris launching himself fully into amusing self-deprecation. We immediately learn that he is the textbook definition of a failed artist, as he is still living with his mother, and his studio is actually her shed. He takes us on a life-tour, outlining what it was like to live in post-war Essex with a Polish dad and a British mum.
Chris intercalates videos of his art installations with family photographs, and personal anecdotes. Failure becomes a running concept in the show. He talks about how, in his final year, he attempted to build a boat to escape art college. The boat sank, but it resulted in Chris being invited to other universities around the country to talk about how not to make a living as an artist. Ironically, he remarks how his initial attempt at escaping art college ended up in him coming back for many years as a lecturer.
Politics is also a prominent topic in the show. He talks about fascism, explaining how his dad escaped Poland during the Second World War. He also includes his very blunt opinions about the current political environment. He shows us the art pieces he has made about Priti Patel’s anti-immigration policies, and Boris Johnson’s response to the pandemic, making a poignant point about the connection between fascism then and now.
The whole performance is a journey, literally and metaphorically. We get to know Chris’ fixation with Scalextric car sets, model planes and construction toys. But rather than being a strange obsession, we understand there is more to it. Vehicle making becomes Chris’ metaphor for growth, an ode to childhood, and a way of looking inwards by looking back.
This show is far removed from the stuffiness of the art world. The language it uses moves beyond inaccessible ‘art-speak’, and instead invites us to see contemporary art as a hilarious, absurd and moving event. More gallery opening press releases should be written in the style of Chris Dobrowlski.
Toy Stories ran through 21 May.
As we enter the venue, we are asked to look at a video playing on an old television set, which is also Chris’ work. On the screen, there is a model car going around in circles on top of a stack of papers with the lockdown government guidelines. We see a model toy version of Boris Johnson and Telegraph and Guardian newspaper sellers wearing masks, while “I’m Bored” by Iggy Pop plays in the background. This sets the mood for the show, making clear that humour is embedded into Chris’ visual language.
The show opens with Chris launching himself fully into amusing self-deprecation. We immediately learn that he is the textbook definition of a failed artist, as he is still living with his mother, and his studio is actually her shed. He takes us on a life-tour, outlining what it was like to live in post-war Essex with a Polish dad and a British mum.
Chris intercalates videos of his art installations with family photographs, and personal anecdotes. Failure becomes a running concept in the show. He talks about how, in his final year, he attempted to build a boat to escape art college. The boat sank, but it resulted in Chris being invited to other universities around the country to talk about how not to make a living as an artist. Ironically, he remarks how his initial attempt at escaping art college ended up in him coming back for many years as a lecturer.
Politics is also a prominent topic in the show. He talks about fascism, explaining how his dad escaped Poland during the Second World War. He also includes his very blunt opinions about the current political environment. He shows us the art pieces he has made about Priti Patel’s anti-immigration policies, and Boris Johnson’s response to the pandemic, making a poignant point about the connection between fascism then and now.
The whole performance is a journey, literally and metaphorically. We get to know Chris’ fixation with Scalextric car sets, model planes and construction toys. But rather than being a strange obsession, we understand there is more to it. Vehicle making becomes Chris’ metaphor for growth, an ode to childhood, and a way of looking inwards by looking back.
This show is far removed from the stuffiness of the art world. The language it uses moves beyond inaccessible ‘art-speak’, and instead invites us to see contemporary art as a hilarious, absurd and moving event. More gallery opening press releases should be written in the style of Chris Dobrowlski.
Toy Stories ran through 21 May.
'Arts on the Green' Mary Wollstencraft room.
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David Stubbs. Journalist/Writer. 'Arts on the Green', Stoke Newington, London, October 12th 2024An excellent evening last night at the Unitarian church in Stoke Newington with Roshi Nasehi. So glad to have been a plus one to this. The event was called Toy Stories, a sort of lecture-cum-stand-up routine-cum-memoir-cum-political tract-cum artwork by Chris Dobrowolski. Ultimately, he is an artist and his lavishly illustrated talk, featuring hundreds upon hundreds of slides as well as video clips showed the logical workings of how artists arrive at their practice, their recurring motifs and preoccupations, chief of which for Chris is Scalextric. Using that, and a plethora of accessories associated with Scalextric - plastic track marshalls, etc - he presented a piece full of fun callbacks, great silliness, repurposing of unconsidered trifles but also Nazism, the aftermath of World War II, the detestable modern-day Tories and the distinction between Nazis - rigid in their outlook and fascism, which is more insidiously fluid. Funny, moving, arresting, extremely pertinent. It should be a film, a narrative voice and series of images a la Robinson In Space.
I bought one of his tea towels! Also, the Unitarians, now there's a church I can get along with. They are actively involved in promoting arts events - and they don't believe in God. Cool, all round. |
'Untiy Church' Newington Green, London
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Dunsatable library staff as cardboard 'cut outs' being Scalextrix track marshals.
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Richard Jordan
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...and Chris Dobrowolski’s charming performance work Toy Stories, about family heritage and identity, have enjoyed deserved success and been popular with audiences.
CHRIS NEVILLE-SMITH'S BLOG ON THEATRE REVIEWS OF STUFF THAT'S GOOD
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Well, the first thing I’ve got to credit Menagerie Theatre for is introducing me to Brighton Toy and Model Museum. Situated under Brighton Station, it’s an Aladdin’s cave of toys and models from over the decades. Amongst it are numerous extensive train tracks, working Meccano models and many other vintage delights. It’s worth the ticket price to have a look round the museum alone if you arrive early enough before the start – however, this is supplemented by some of Dobrowolski’s own models.
Anyway, on to Toy Stories itself The first thing to say about this is this straddles Brighton Fringe categories, none of which I’d really consider to be its advertised category of theatre. Chris Dobrowolski is an artist, and the show is best described as a talk from him on what he does, how he ended up doing what he’s doing, and some stories of what happened in his life because of this. You won’t be hearing any recitations of Shakespeare here, but Dobrowolski is an engaging storyteller – and that, I think, has a lot to do with how he’s forged the career he has.
It begins with how his parents met. As you may have guessed from the surname, Chris Dobrowolski’s father is Polish. He is one of the Polish fighters captured by the Russians in 1939, then allowed to fight from Britain in 1941 after the Germans turned on Russia, only to not be allowed back. There was one nice anecdote about the meetings of both the Polish Veterans and German ex-POWs, but as they dwindled in number they eventually merged.
Then we move on to his very niche line of work: making art out of children’s models. After a cynical and 100% correct observation about scale models of race cars apparently making it okay to advertised cigarettes on children’s toys, we move on to his crowning triumph: a Scalextric race track in the library. And you could have your own car modeled on the track. And have a live camera following your car. I’ll say it again. It’s YOUR OWN CAR. On a SCALEXTRIC RACE TRACK. With a LIVE CAMERA. In a LIBRARY. (And this isn’t just a boring oval track, but running under all the shelves and underneath the computers and everything.)
Dobrowolski also talks a bit about his teaching work -and here I think he undersells himself. At the risk of overdoing the cliche about inspiring young minds, he clearly did. So much that when a former student who he barely knew sadly died and his parents invited him to a memorial exhibition of their work because Dobrowolski was an inspiration to him, I don’t think he realises just how poignant it was.
The only thing I wasn’t convinced about was the analysis of the rise of fascism. At the risk of repeating what I’ve said before: I’m pretty sure 100% of the audience already agrees Fascism is bad, and have already seen parallels with the Stop the Boats policy. And original though the toy-centric analysis is, over-analyses subjects that the whole audience already agrees with. What would have been an interesting take is the rise of nationalism in Poland – this would have fit in very well with the story beginning and ending there – that that was only touched upon before . Ah well, maybe the next edition.
Toy Stories doesn’t really belong in the theatre section, but as an inspirational talk it’s a lovely hour. And a great idea to set it in a toy museum.
A note from me- Chris Dobrowolski - on Chris Neville Smiths Criticisms
For me , this show is primarily about sociopaths and manipulation. Although the content is all true I highlight and amplify the ugly side of my ego. In a way I 'play the role' of a self obsessed artist. Of course I realised how poignant it was to be invited to the memorial exhibition of a student I had taught - the glossing over of poignance is deliberate. I make out I had no idea who this student was where in reality I met him on numerous occasions. I knew him but not well. The poignance is there but my character is too self obsessed to dwell on it. The 'real me' also didn't want to milk this sad event. The grief was not mine to exploit.
Failure is a predominant theme running through the show. In one section I illustrate my journey of discovery into far right political cultural theory using toys. The end result of this extensive but myopic research is that after taking the journey all I do is conclude the obvious - fascists are bad! It's a conclusion that becomes a particularly bad case of 'stating the bleeding obvious' when- as Chris Neville Smith points out- the average theatre going audience invariably has similar political leanings as myself and I'm 'preaching to the converted'. This sense of futility is kind of the point. However, C, N. Smith's review is evidence that this point isn't clear. In subsequent edits of the show this is addressed more overtly.
Anyway, on to Toy Stories itself The first thing to say about this is this straddles Brighton Fringe categories, none of which I’d really consider to be its advertised category of theatre. Chris Dobrowolski is an artist, and the show is best described as a talk from him on what he does, how he ended up doing what he’s doing, and some stories of what happened in his life because of this. You won’t be hearing any recitations of Shakespeare here, but Dobrowolski is an engaging storyteller – and that, I think, has a lot to do with how he’s forged the career he has.
It begins with how his parents met. As you may have guessed from the surname, Chris Dobrowolski’s father is Polish. He is one of the Polish fighters captured by the Russians in 1939, then allowed to fight from Britain in 1941 after the Germans turned on Russia, only to not be allowed back. There was one nice anecdote about the meetings of both the Polish Veterans and German ex-POWs, but as they dwindled in number they eventually merged.
Then we move on to his very niche line of work: making art out of children’s models. After a cynical and 100% correct observation about scale models of race cars apparently making it okay to advertised cigarettes on children’s toys, we move on to his crowning triumph: a Scalextric race track in the library. And you could have your own car modeled on the track. And have a live camera following your car. I’ll say it again. It’s YOUR OWN CAR. On a SCALEXTRIC RACE TRACK. With a LIVE CAMERA. In a LIBRARY. (And this isn’t just a boring oval track, but running under all the shelves and underneath the computers and everything.)
Dobrowolski also talks a bit about his teaching work -and here I think he undersells himself. At the risk of overdoing the cliche about inspiring young minds, he clearly did. So much that when a former student who he barely knew sadly died and his parents invited him to a memorial exhibition of their work because Dobrowolski was an inspiration to him, I don’t think he realises just how poignant it was.
The only thing I wasn’t convinced about was the analysis of the rise of fascism. At the risk of repeating what I’ve said before: I’m pretty sure 100% of the audience already agrees Fascism is bad, and have already seen parallels with the Stop the Boats policy. And original though the toy-centric analysis is, over-analyses subjects that the whole audience already agrees with. What would have been an interesting take is the rise of nationalism in Poland – this would have fit in very well with the story beginning and ending there – that that was only touched upon before . Ah well, maybe the next edition.
Toy Stories doesn’t really belong in the theatre section, but as an inspirational talk it’s a lovely hour. And a great idea to set it in a toy museum.
A note from me- Chris Dobrowolski - on Chris Neville Smiths Criticisms
For me , this show is primarily about sociopaths and manipulation. Although the content is all true I highlight and amplify the ugly side of my ego. In a way I 'play the role' of a self obsessed artist. Of course I realised how poignant it was to be invited to the memorial exhibition of a student I had taught - the glossing over of poignance is deliberate. I make out I had no idea who this student was where in reality I met him on numerous occasions. I knew him but not well. The poignance is there but my character is too self obsessed to dwell on it. The 'real me' also didn't want to milk this sad event. The grief was not mine to exploit.
Failure is a predominant theme running through the show. In one section I illustrate my journey of discovery into far right political cultural theory using toys. The end result of this extensive but myopic research is that after taking the journey all I do is conclude the obvious - fascists are bad! It's a conclusion that becomes a particularly bad case of 'stating the bleeding obvious' when- as Chris Neville Smith points out- the average theatre going audience invariably has similar political leanings as myself and I'm 'preaching to the converted'. This sense of futility is kind of the point. However, C, N. Smith's review is evidence that this point isn't clear. In subsequent edits of the show this is addressed more overtly.
(Image) Experimenting with a new line of 'Toy Stories' merchandise.
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“Keen sense of the absurd” Reviews Aug 15, 2024 by Natasha Tripney. Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh The Stage |
Chris Dobrowolski is an artist though as this play’s title acknowledges, that is not the most lucrative profession, and he still works from the shed of the house he grew up in. His work revolves around found and recycled objects – bit of metal, driftwood, old toy cars – to which he gives new life.
He really loves Scalextric and once filled Dunstable Library with Scalextric tracks on which he raced lovingly detailed models of local people’s cars. Another piece features old television sets, which played excerpts of Shakespeare’s sceptred isle speech, while a doll that looks like Boris Johnson rode among them on a miniature bus.
His work displays a keen sense of the absurd and the playful and Dobrowolski brings that to his play, which is a pleasingly weird mix of stand-up and art lecture with some political material thrown in. Though he repeatedly reminds us that he’s not a professional performer, he’s at ease with an audience and is a capable and engaging storyteller. He increasingly weaves accounts of his own art projects with memories of his Polish father and reflections on 20th-century history (there’s a lot of stuff about Nazis) and the conditions that allow fascism to flourish.
His performance is illustrated with his own toy-populated stop-motion videos, and while the show has a rambling, ramshackle quality, that feels fitting. This is a genuinely idiosyncratic experience – he uses an old oar in lieu of a pointer – that fuses the personal with the political. It’s a hard show to categorise but richer for it.
The parody, over priced 'merch stand' made from an old suitcase with fold down legs selling 'affordable art'
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"Reviewing the reviews " a note from me
(Chris Dobrowolski) The Stage wrote a nice review with little in it that could be read as negative. However Natasha Tripney only gave the show 3 stars. In the competitive environment of the Edinburgh Fringe festival anything less than 4 stars is about as welcome as a cup of warm sick. I've had a four star review in the past that was far more critical than this one. It would have been nice if people had read Tripney's review at the time but sadly it was behind a pay wall and the only thing you could see were the derisory 3 stars and the word 'rambling'. Not quite sure what the intention was with this review but it made promoting the show at Edinburgh a bit of an uphill struggle. This review was quickly followed by another mediocre one in Broadway Baby where I think the author mistook me for a stand up comedian. The reviewer chortled all the way through the first half but didn't 'get' the second half which diverges into the intricacies of right wing politics. I actually noticed them pull out their laptop midway through the show and start writing there and then. As a result I got the feeling they didn't give it a lot of thought. One line in the review describes 'Toy Stories' as 'whimsical' - An odd turn of phrase for a show about sociopaths, Scalextric and Nazis! Annoyingly, out of all the reviews 'Toy Stories' received, it's this 'half arsed' shit one that comes up first in a Google search. Ironically one of the subjects touched upon in 'Toy Stories' is 'advertising and marketing'. With two unhelpful reviews under our belt the only form of marketing open to us at this point was to use our flyers to engage with the public. Myself and my colleague Paul Bourne quickly realised however that as two miserable, middle aged men we probably weren't the worlds best marketing tool. |
Scene from the film 'The Italian job' . Michael Cane as the lead character 'Charlie Crocker'
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There was a lot of very positive feedback from members of the public that came to the show (often turning up by chance). Some of them were even motivated to write some glowing accounts on the Fringe website. The following are a selection of these:
Geoff Stevens "What does it mean to succeed as an artist? Big bucks in an auction room, or pursuing your obsessions to connect people, places and the past? Chris D took me on a trip through 20th century history, showing how art practice, sincerely performed, enriches us all. I closed my eyes and Charlie Croker played by Michael Caine was telling me about a failed escape down the Humber. Definitely worth seeing if you've ever thought that Art has disappeared up its own arse. Not all of it has..." |
Alison Williams
"A last minute booking and weren’t we lucky to find such a great show. Chris opened up a window into his life, his hugely creative and fascinating life, and we were hooked. Go see."
"A last minute booking and weren’t we lucky to find such a great show. Chris opened up a window into his life, his hugely creative and fascinating life, and we were hooked. Go see."
Discarded flyer, Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh.
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Juliet May
"What a great show! It was funny, intriguing, surprising and inspiring. We booked by chance and after four long days at the fringe, this show was my highlight." Possibly my favorite public review on the fringe website was written by a very sweet American couple with a great sense of humour: Scott Leventhal "What a terrific show! Chris was very funny, self-deprecating and entertaining while presenting a thoughtful and personal story arc. It felt like he was talking just to us, and we were thoroughly engaged and amused. An absolute joy!" I was talking 'just to them!' - They were the only people in the audience that day. Rather belatedly I discovered I had a contact in the Edinburgh art scene - Neil Davidson aka 'Thermos museum'. We are mutual fans of each others work. Having seen the show, Neil set about rallying his support base to come and see it. The audience size suddenly swelled and we had a sense that numbers could continue to pick up from here after this boost. Unfortunately this was the very last show of the run. We finished on a bit of a high but we had no choice afterwards but to pack up the set, bundle it into the car and go home. |