Rejoicing with Bella

Writer, performer, impressionist, funny woman and chanteuse Holly Morgan joins Bella for a wide ranging conversation taking as the starting point, her shows: Seven Crazy Bitches, Madonna or Whore? and Holly Morgan is a Witch: Get Her! Holly and Bella talk archetypes, Madonna, witch hunts, insecurities, laser hair removal, and how multiple orgasms are a bit like a superpower, so no wonder the men of yore were scared of us.

Book to see Holly’s new show at VAULT here: https://vaultfestival.com/whats-on/holly-morgan-is-a-witch-get-her/?spektrix_bounce=true

More Holly:

https://twitter.com/morgstoyou

instagram: @hollymorgs

More Bella:

bellaheesom.com

https://www.facebook.com/bheesom/

https://twitter.com/BellaHeesom

Instagram: @bellaheesom

For more Natalie:

Website: http://www.nataliecollins.info/

Blog: https://mrsglw.wordpress.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/@God_Loves_Women or https://twitter.com/natweetalie

For more Bella:

Website: bellaheesom.com

Twitter: twitter.com/bellaheesom

Facebook: facebook.com/bheesom

Links:

Natalie mentioned these...

The Female Price of Male Pleasure by Lili Loofbourow: http://theweek.com/articles/749978/female-price-male-pleasure

Last month, I was honoured to be one of the speakers at TEDx Newnham.

It was great to be part of a day of inspiring talks by brilliant women (and a man!) who are in some way connected to my old college, or that area of Cambridge. The theme was Embracing Challenge, and I was particularly pleased to see a theme from my talk running through the day - the value of vulnerability. A number of speakers highlighted this in their own way. Personally, I spoke about how I had always been proud of being clever and rational, and not at all emotional, and how I came to realise that it is possible to be rational and emotional, and in fact, my emotions are what make my life worth living, so they're pretty great.

Please watch the film of the talk, and share it with anyone you think could benefit from the ideas I'm exploring :)

You can watch all of the talks from TEDx Newnham HERE.

I recently had an article published in Sex+ zine. Here's an extract and a link...

 

I would like to invite you to explore the garden of your sexuality. Over the years, seeds will have been planted in your mind – ideas about sex. They may have been planted by friends, family, teachers, magazine articles, adverts, fictional characters… the list is endless. As you have grown, these seeds have also grown, into plants, so that now, your internal sexual landscape is a verdant garden.

Some of the plants in my garden are: the ‘Only Boys Masturbate’ Shrub, the ‘You Are A Sex Object’ Flower, and the ‘Sexual Desire In Women Is Dirty’ Tree. I don’t like any of those plants very much. They don’t make me feel good. They feel restrictive. To me, they are weeds. I don’t agree with any of those statements. That’s why it took me a long time to realise that these received ideas were shaping my internal landscape, and affecting my relationship with sex.

I came across the garden metaphor in the brilliant book Come As You Are by scientist and sex educator Emily Nagoski. One of the things Emily does in her book is help the reader to unpick the root causes of any shame they may be carrying around in relation to sex. I found the analogy of the garden incredibly useful, as it gave me a way of engaging with the ideas about sex that I had internalised without even realising. I read the book as part of my research for a play I was writing; Rejoicing At Her Wondrous Vulva The Young Woman Applauded Herself, in which I wanted to celebrate female sexuality. If you had asked my opinions on sex at that time, I would have confidently given you feminist, sex positive answers. If you’d asked me if I thought of myself as a sex object, I probably would’ve responded with a tirade about how damaging it is that women are presented in this way in the media, how dangerous it is for men to routinely dehumanise women in this way, how I was a complex human, and an active subject in my life, not an object of any kind. And that is all true. However, when I started digging around my garden, I unearthed the ‘You Are A Sex Object’ Flower. It had been planted by men wolf-whistling and catcalling me on the street since I was 11 years old. It had been watered by adverts, films, topless women on page 3 of a newspaper, and a million other little things. I didn’t believe it to be true, but that didn’t change the fact that it was there. Inside me.

Read more here.

For more Bella:

bellaheesom.com

twitter.com/bellaheesom

facebook.com/bheesom

To book for Rejoicing At Her Wondrous Vulva The Young Woman Applauded Herself:  http://www.ovalhouse.com/whatson/detail/rejoicing-at-her-wondrous-vulva-the-young-woman-applauded-herself

For more Naomi:

twitter.com/@naomisheldon1

To book for Good Girl at VAULT Festival: https://vaultfestival.com/whats-on/good-girl/?spektrix_bounce=true

To book for Good Girl at Trafalgar Studios: http://www.atgtickets.com/shows/good-girl/trafalgar-studios/

Thank you to everyone who came to see me in The Woman In The Moon at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse at Shakespeare's Globe in August. I had SUCH a wonderful time. Pandora is without a doubt the most fun character I've ever played, the cast were all an utter joy to work with, and our audiences were incredibly warm and enthusiastic. There seems to be demand for a longer run, so this might not be the last you've seen of Lyly's sexy, farcical exploration of womanhood, but in the meantime, here are a couple of great reviews, a few photos taken by the brilliant Ellie Kurttz and some lovely tweets!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ MindTheBlog
'Bella Heesom is perfectly cast as Pandora. Her character’s inconstant moods and emotions mean she is almost playing several different people in one. From Pandora’s initial innocence, she is catapulted through ambition, aggression, humility, promiscuity, deception and lunacy – all the while there is a glint in Heesom’s eye that suggests this is no ordinary woman.' More...

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ TheatreBox
'It’s like Shakespeare produced Inside Out.
The cast is scintillating and energetic, their visible joy on stage holds the show together. The exemplary ensemble is led by Heesom, whose versatility on stage was a pleasure to witness.' More...

 

 

• Juliet Ewers‏ @JulietEwers

Such a great evening @The_Globe last night - #TheWomanInTheMoon is brilliant fun. @BellaHeesom is superb. Go see today - highly recommend.

• Maria Hildebrand‏ @MHildebrand92

Wild and lusty, a whole lotta funny with a touch of wonder - @DolphinsBack #TheWomanInTheMoon cast and crew smashed it tonight! @The_Globe

• Debbie‏ @Deborah_Deborah

Thought @BellaHeesom was absolutely superb as Pandora; the amount of personalities that girl gets through! #TheWomanInTheMoon

• Sarah Back‏ @SarahVABack

#WomanInTheMoon @The_Globe was one of the craziest, funniest shows I've ever seen and I LOVED it. Not laughed like that at theatre in ages

• Lydia Bakelmun‏ @lydiabakelmun

#TheWomanInTheMoon a lusty, bawdy feast! Divine intervention & the untameable nature of woman. Bravo @JoyCruickshank & Emma! #Wanamakers

• Giles Taylor‏ @Gileygoose

#TheWomanInTheMoon at Wanamaker Theatre tonight was sheer heaven! Billed as an astronomical sex farce. Spot on! 430 yrs old.

• Isabelle Nicole‏ @belle_nicole17

@BellaHeesom you were completely mesmerizing as Pandora in Woman in the Moon! So glad I got a chance to see this show!

• SARAH CULLUM‏ @SarahJCullum

'The Woman in the Moon' was such a laugh, and what an incredible part for a woman! More of that in theatre please. @DolphinsBack

• Alexander Thom‏ @andthomorrow

@DolphinsBack #TheWomanInTheMoon was absolutely brilliant: funny, intelligent, and moving! Well done to everyone involved!

• Callan Davies‏ @callanjd

Still on a high from #TheWomanInTheMoon this weekend @The_Globe @DolphinsBack. Pacy, funny, &, well, divine! Congrats to all, & more please!

 

This August 18th & 19th The Dolphin's Back acclaimed production of The Woman In The Moon by John Lyly returns to London, this time at the beautiful candlelit Sam Wanamaker Playhouse for a strictly limited run of 3 shows.

The show is an astrological sex comedy, which inspired Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. I'll be reprising the role of Pandora; earth's first woman according ancient Greek mythology, and the largest female part in early modern theatre. I've played her twice: once at The Glastonbury Festival with the Globe's Read Not Dead project, and again in the original production at The Rose Playhouse on Bankside, when I received these glowing reviews:

'As Pandora, Bella Heesom shows that the part requires tremendous versatility and stamina. She is barely ever off-stage. (Times Literary Supplement)

'Ninety minutes of theatrical bliss. As Pandora, Bella Heesom took us on a dazzling journey through conflicting expressions of womanhood - a bravura performance, which showed amazing adaptability and inventiveness.' (Migrant Press)

'The centrepiece performance is Heesom's chameleonic Pandora. She switches personalities like she's shuffling a deck of cards, one moment an intimidating kicker of asses, the next trapped in a hallucinatory wig-out, the next mumsy and caring. It's scarily good how strong Heesom's grip on this character is.' (LondonCityNights)

As I prepare to take on the role once again, director James Wallace interviewed me for the Globe's blog:

Pandora dominates the play and barely leaves the stage. Is she a challenge or a liberation to act?

Oh, a liberation, absolutely… and a challenge. Both! I’m quite happy dominating, to be honest. And I’m very happy barely leaving the stage. I really enjoy the experience of sharing the complete journey with the audience.

The thing I found most challenging when I first started rehearsing her, was her sudden shifts in mood - the way she switches from happy to sad, from lustful to bloodthirsty, and so on, as the different planets take control of her. The changes are so quick. 

Usually as an actor I try and find the through-line, the motivation. But with Pandora, there is no reason that she’s aware of, she just suddenly feels full of violent rage. And the truth of the character is that she doesn’t have an existential crisis about these unexpected, unexplained feelings, and try and control them like I probably would, she just goes with them. Boom! Let’s fight. That’s incredibly liberating and fun to play.

Read the rest of the interview HERE.

AND ooh, look, a sexy trailer!

Book tickets to see the show HERE.

This blog first appeared on the website Bristol 24/7 in advance of the performance of My World Has Exploded A Little Bit at The Wardrobe Theatre in Bristol.

In the summer of 2010, I had a telephone conversation I will never forget. As I walked along a sunny London street, I called my dad, Pete, in Bristol, to check in. As it happened, he had just found out that he had a brain tumour, which was too diffuse to be operated on. I asked him what that meant. ‘Well,’ he replied, ‘I asked the doctor if, short of me getting run over by a bus tomorrow, this was going to kill me, and he said yes.’  My world exploded a little bit.

Maybe a month later, I was in Pete’s house in Bristol, in a haze of surreal sadness, on the phone to my friend, Mike. My dad was in the living room, dying. Mike asked if all of this had tested my atheism. Had I found myself wishing, hoping; whispering a furtive prayer, just in case? I was surprised at the idea. My dad was a good man.

 

My dad, Pete Ferne

I’m not just saying that because he’s dead. It’s true. Ask around Bristol about Pete, the tech geek with the patterns bleached in his hair, and you’ll find someone who knew him, and they’ll tell you he was a lovely bloke: kind, humble despite his intellect, insatiably curious. Was there a god gradually robbing this man of his life? If so, I wouldn’t be down on my knees begging, I would be filled with rage. I would be hunting down this cruel, capricious, morally indefensible deity, so that I could set it ablaze. No. This was not testing my atheism. If anything, it was strengthening it.

But in rejecting the comfort of a Heavenly Father, how does one confront the loss of an earthly one? The trappings of religion give structure and meaning to the processes of death and grieving. Secular society can leave us blindly fumbling in the dark.

So what to do? Well first, I recommend trying to embrace that lost feeling. No one can give you a map that tells you the way through losing someone you love. Your grief is your own, and you will need to feel your way through it. ‘Feel’ is the operative word. Trust me; I tried to think my way through it, and it didn’t work. I’ve always been a very rational person, and my Reason was my trusty weapon against all that life could throw at me. But death is a different beast. Death has to be felt. It will hurt. A lot. But there’s no avoiding this particular pain. You can try, like I did, but it’ll get you in the end.

Once I accepted the inevitability of FEELING THINGS, I found practising mindfulness very calming. When a wave of fierce emotion would crash into me, snatching my breath away, and dissolving the ground beneath my feet, I learnt not to brace myself against it and fight, but rather to breathe in, let it pass over me and through me, and breathe out. I found it freeing to notice the emotion, whatever it was – sadness, rage, guilt, a love so forceful it made me feel sick – accept it without judgement, and relinquish myself to it. You do not always have to be strong. Sometimes it is okay to collapse. It is also OK not to collapse. You may feel nothing for a long time. You are not broken. You are not heartless. You are surviving. There is no right or wrong here. Your journey is your own.

Carve your own bespoke path. If, like my family, you are gifted an advance notice of death’s arrival, choose how you want to spend that time. We asked my dad what he wanted to do, in the knowledge that his time was running out; jump out of a plane? Go to Honolulu? He wanted to sit at the kitchen table with us, and drink tea and do crosswords. Oh, and read a particularly challenging maths textbook that he’d always meant to get his teeth into: An Introduction to the Theory of Numbers, by Hardy and Wright. Yes, with his dying days, he wanted to read a maths book. This is one of my favourite things about him, but it may not be your cup of tea. Each to their own.

This personal approach applies to the funeral, too. Discuss it in advance. Do you want to be buried? Where? Do you want a funeral? What should it be like? We had a humanist celebrant for my dad’s funeral. It’s a great alternative to a religious figure. She gathered stories about Pete from his family and friends, so that the service was a celebration of who he was in life.

There are humanist celebrants all around the country now – they do weddings too! Find out more at humanism.org.uk/humanism. We also set up a website for people to share their memories of Pete, and they were a real source of comfort for me; I greedily gathered them in like precious jewels – little nuggets of the man I loved, surviving in the minds of his friends.

Memories are magic. They allow us to enjoy people even after they’re gone. Feel free to talk about your loved-one; don’t be silenced by the taboo surrounding mortality. I went a step further, and made a play about my experience of losing my parents. Oops, spoiler! Yes, my mum died too. And in my commitment to busting the taboo, I wrote a show that includes a very silly lecture in which I tell you that everyone you love is going to die (sorry, but it’s true), whilst simultaneously telling the story of my battle with grief. It turns out my internal conflict between Reason and Emotion is ripe for deliciously dark comedy. Who knew? Writing My World Has Exploded A Little Bit was cathartic for me. It helped me process my feelings, and allowed me to make something beautiful out of something awful. I thoroughly recommend moulding your personal agony into art ^_^

I made a cheeky little video with Stylist. Check it out:

Anna Bonet interviewed Bella for Razz Magazine, ahead of My World Has Exploded A Little Bit playing at The Bike Shed Theatre, Exeter. As well as discussing the inspiration behind the show, Bella talks about her childhood, feminism, and the importance of the arts.

Losing my father was, in some ways, quite beautiful.

My dad got a brain tumour at 49, and died within a couple of months of the diagnosis. Those months were kind of dream-like. Seeped in sadness of course, but also quite beautiful, because he was incredibly calm and we all got to say goodbye, and the house was filled with love. It was the first significant loss I’d experienced, and it really shook the foundations of my world. The title of the show – My World Has Exploded A Little Bit – was the subject line of the email I sent my close friends when I found out about the tumour.

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