Sunday

Some nice things that have been said about the show in Australia


Perth Now 
"A combination of live music, poignant storytelling and physical comedy, She Was Probably Not A Robot is heartbreaking, thought-provoking and laugh out loud funny."

Adelaide Advertiser 
★★★★
"Side-splittingly funny, heart-wrenching and utterly absurd this is a beautiful piece of theatre from one of Tuxedo Cat’s finest. Stunning."

Adelaide Theatre Guide
★★★★ and a 1/2
"with its ridiculous humour, highly original plot and artfully-questionable use of props and blocking, this laugh-out-loud production is not one audiences are likely to forget"

Rip It Up 
★★★★  and a 1/2
"Stuart Bowden is a smart guy. He has created a very funny and whimsical show about something that’s actually quite serious. Excellent!"

Talk Fringe





Thursday

Trailer

She Was Probably Not A Robot

Coming Soon

Feb 11 - 15

Feb 20 - Mar 2

My 2013 in Music



These are my favorite songs of 2013. In a rough order. for some of them I have noted the first time I heard them.

San Francisco - Foxygen

 Song for Zula - Phosphorescent

Avant Gardener - Courtney Barnett

Open - Rhye

Bugs Don't Buzz - Majical Cloudz

Smother - Daughter

The first time I ever heard this song I was on a packed train at the end of a tired day. It was cold on the platform, I was pushed inside, I ended up near a man who kept making faces at a small boy who wouldn't smile, no matter what.




Won't You Come Over - Devendra Banhart

Dancing in a candle lit lounge drinking/mostly spilling wine.

Pretty Boy - Young Galaxy

Song For The Sold - Kishi Bashi

Riding through a neighborhood I've never been through on the way back from portabello market. tall mansions. I went down a little street past some important building maybe it was an embassy or something, anyway there was a police guard out the front with a machine gun. I rode past quickly, he whistled I looked back and he was waving me back. I turned around, took out my headphones, rode back - thinking I was either going to be shot or something and he said "this is a oneway street, I'd hate to see a car come round the corner and clean you up"

Ironworks - Baths

Advance Falconry - Mutual Benefit

Night, maybe midnight, port, candles, by the window.

Chum - Earl Sweatshirt

Early morning. Cold street, walking or kind of running - I'm late. Crossing streets, anxious drivers already angry drivers. They woon't let me cross. They're on the way to work, maybe they do this everyday, maybe not, but theres no need to worry so much.

Even If We Try - Night Beds

Late morning, one of those really crisp sunny ones, hearts sore these mornings. I'm by the canal, the bright bounces.

Riptide - Vance Joy

I was running, just for fun, I did that once or twice a year - at those times when I was really not sure what else to do.

Somebody to Love - Valerie June

Les Enfants - Celeste

Kicking leaves, kicking leaves in the park, slap a tree trunk - slap a tree five - why not?


Small Plane - Bill Callahan

Going down to the shops for groceries, getting lost in the horizon, getting lost in the song.


Darkside - Paper Trails

Patroling the streets, searching for some fireworks, got to get some fireworks for Remember Remember. That guy who normally opens up a wardrobe full of fireworks this time of year, where is he now? where is he when I need him?

Hannah Hunt - Vampire Weekend



Manhattan - Cat Power


And Then I Found Myself In The Taiga - Norwegian Arms

Retrograde - James Blake


My Old Friend - Sam Amidon


Byegone - Volcano Choir

Ka Moun Ke - Rokia Traore


Ritual Union - Electric Guest

Well You Better - Yo La Tengo

Learning - The National (cover)

Put A Light On - Generationals

Dropla - Youth Lagoon



Wednesday

Hey there web friends


I'd really like to invite you to a cool new party

it's called

CHECK OUT MY NEW WEBSITE
the location is


and the time is now.



Sunday

Probably Not A Robot in London

December 11th, 12th and 13th

Camden People's Theatre | 7.30pm

TICKETS




Off the back of a critically acclaimed Edinburgh Fringe season multi-award winning Australian theatre maker Stuart Bowden presents the London premier of She Was Probably Not A Robot.

She Was Probably Not A Robot is a lo-fi, DIY, off-beat, sci-fi, storytelling experience; a surreal, soulful comedy about a decomposing world and a cosmic visitor.  When the world ends in flood and fire, one man, asleep on his air-mattress, floats out of his bedroom window, through burning debris and out to sea to be the sole survivor and last hope for humanity. This is an enchanting tale adorned with simple storytelling and physical comedy. Stuartʼ s smartly crafted writing, combined with his joyful performance makes for an uplifting tale of loneliness, grief, hope and silliness.

Nominated for the Brighton Fringe Emerging Talent Award, Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2013.

★★★★★
"he creates a hilarious, bittersweet and completely enthralling world"
Three Weeks

★★★★★
"utterly compelling from the start to finish"
Broadway Baby

★★★★★
"Phenomenal one man wonder show... Stuart Bowden is an absolute genius... With live music, bizarre storytelling and perfect physical comedy, She Was Probably Not A Robot will leave you with a skip in your step and a smile on your heart"
Edinburgh Guide

★★★★
"gorgeous notes of melancholia"
The Scotsman

"a subliminal masterpiece"
The Stage

★★★★
"Deliciously bleak humour... laugh out loud funny and heartbreakingly poignant"
Exeunt

December 11th, 12th and 13th

Camden People's Theatre | 7.30pm

TICKETS


Camden People's Theatre



58-60 Hampstead Road

London NW1 2PY, United Kingdom
+44 20 7419 4841

Tuesday

★★★★ from Exeunt - She Was Probably Not A Robot and The World Holds Everyone Apart, Apart From Us


"Deliciously bleak humour... laugh out loud funny and heartbreakingly poignant"
Exeunt, UK


Thursday

Something Old and Something New for Brighton

November 3
5pm, Brighton Dome

7pm, Brighton Dome

This is a picture of me when I was young (two years ago), but immensely wise. I was warming up to do the first preview of my first solo storytelling show called The World Holds Everyone Apart, Apart From Us - I look nervous. My warm up consisted of staring at a bit of blue tack for half an hour, whilst holding two oranges. It all went pretty well (the warm up and the show). I last performed this show in Edinburgh 2011 but I will be doing it again on Sunday (Nov 3rd 2013) at Brighton Dome. This excites me. As I re-learn the show I remember how much I love it. It has a pretty big heart, it may be my best work, did I peak too soon? Maybe. Has everything been trivial after? Who knows? I don't know, but what I do know is it makes me happy to be doing it again. 


This is me now (a couple of months ago). I'm warming up to do my first preview of my latest show She Was Probably Not A Robot. My warm up has changed quite a bit (I now take 2 hours before the show to try and point at everything in the room).  I know I look happy and confident but I was probably quite nervous (because I still had a lot of things in the room that I had not yet pointed at). I'm also doing this show at Brighton Dome on Sunday.

Tuesday

Tomorrow at the fountain


The craters on the moon are insignificant tonight. Old things don't mean anything to you
right now. Not when you're feeling like this. The shadows of those trees, the mountains that
stare over you, the occasional left over cloud from a rainy day lit by the moon, 
it means nothing. 

The ancient rain that runs down the hill, fills the puddles, like it always has, wets your feet,
it's irrelevant tonight.

You're standing at the bar now, your shoes squeak. 
Your thoughts are loud but you still can't make out the lyrics. 
Everyone around you is percussive.
A timpani of tongues bumping around their mouths, clacking lips smack around their faces,
as they laugh and banter. 
Slapping backs, 
jangling coins, 
flapping notes, 
slugging drinks, 
tapping footsteps.
Quick noise that never stays. 
But then she glides past like a flute in the racket. Like a shark from the fog, sliding down a
grassy hill, swimming through the blades in the night, belly grass-stained green.   

She willingly scatters her glances all over you. 
Her eyes shine like shattered glass in the moonlit dew. 
Your coins twinkle when the moons out like this, 
glorious. 
Coins are counted for one more when the moon's out like this. 
You can't think. You loose your coin count.
It's not a good sign as the barman hovers, 

you can do this, just focus. 

It's done.
Well done.
 But you look around and she's gone like a shark in the trees.

A thick-armed drummer swings around with a laugh. His elbow hits your face. Your own
tooth pierces your own lip. Your own blood dribbles out. 
Where did that come from? It's like you've been exposed to something you cant perceive.
The drumming stops around you, someone places a beermat under your bleeding face, you
don't make eye contact, you can't. You just look down. The barman returns with your drink,
but offers you his cloth instead. Who do you think you are? Sitting in the bar with your
blood face. 
The blood runs from you, but you cannot run from it on a night like this. 

She appears, 
the flute,
the shark,
but this time she's a bird on your shoulder, only she's too big for your shoulder and she's got a tissue. 

You drain into her tissue.

By the time you leave you've stopped bleeding and you have a name: Anna. 
And a number: 4. 
And some letters: p and m. 
And a place: the fountain.
And a day: tomorrow.  

Thursday

She Was Probably Not A Robot | Edinburgh reviews

★★★★★
"he creates a hilarious, bittersweet and completely enthralling world with a rag-tag homemade feel"

★★★★★
"utterly compelling from the start to finish"

★★★★★
"With live music, bizarre storytelling and perfect physical comedy, She Was Probably Not A Robot will leave you with a skip in your step and a smile on your heart"

★★★★
"gorgeous notes of melancholia"

"a subliminal masterpiece"

The Stage | Edinburgh Fringe review | She Was Probably Not A Robot


"a subliminal masterpiece"

The Scotsman | Edinburgh Fringe Review | She Was Probably Not A Robot


★★★★
"gorgeous notes of melancholia"

Edinburgh Guide | Edinburgh Fringe Reviews | She Was Probably Not A Robot

★★★★★
"Performer and writer, Stuart Bowden, is an absolute genius"

Broadway Baby | Edinburgh Fringe review | She Was Probably Not A Robot

★★★★★
"utterly compelling from the start to finish"

ThreeWeeks | Edinburgh Fringe reviews | She Was Probably Not A Robot


★★★★★
"It’s richly emotional, quietly beautiful, and an absolute joy to watch"

Wednesday

These are the shows I'm doing in Edinburgh this year

She Was Probably Not A Robot




















This is my shiny new tin-foil-clad solo creation. If you saw The Beast or The World Holds Everyone Apart, Apart From Us, this is a much darker but sillier show than those. It's stupid, sad and strange. It has more of a tormented (playfully) quality to it. Out of all of my solo shows I've had the most fun making this one. And I have the most fun performing it. If you're going to be in Edinburgh or know anyone who is, please come and invite anyone you think might be into that sort of thing. This is the Facebook event if that helps

I'm also doing this show:

Dr Brown Brown Brown Brown Brown and His Singing Tiger













This is back for it's third year, but this time only for two shows so please book in advance. It's a show for everyone.

And down here you'll find a secret:

The Lounge Room Confabulators
















This is a last minute addition to my Edinburgh offerings. A show that comes to you. My good friend and master storyteller Wil Greenway, is bringing his solo show A Night to Dismember, to Edinburgh. So we're re-uniting to re-kindle the show that we performed two years ago The Lounge Room Confabulators. This show is performed in peoples homes. The way it works is one person invites us round, they invite their friends, we show up and perform to them and then we leave. And it's pretty cheap too, you just have to pay £5 per person (minimum 6 people) and £20 to cover our taxi to and from your place. If you are interested in booking this show please send an email to talesinyourloungeroom@gmail.com and we can work out a time and date.

Friday

The Week After Andrew Left



Hotel. Andrew sprawls on top of the bed. Naked, stretching his arms and legs like a poorly broken egg, surrounded by the sea of blanket whites. Sun sizzles through the shitty blinds and the blankets get whiter. Andrew flips himself under, to avoid the light.

Lucy's not there, she's in a different country, a different time zone, she's walking with the horizon's old sun in her eyes. The familiar footpath to the post office, in her hand a slip of paper that says she has a parcel to collect. There's a relaxed pigeon in the gutter ahead, soaking up the last bit of sun after a big day. As Lucy approaches, the pigeon, let's call him Steve, Steve freaks out, starts walking away. Freaks out a bit more, starts running. Shits itself and flies into the air. Swoops around and flies straight for Lucy.  Lucy flinches first and the pigeon claps with delight into the distance.

Andrew jolts out of bed, like he's been burnt and his day begins. Shower, slow, like a carwash, he stays still and everything seems to happen outside of him. The rest of the day is like that. He's in the car, he takes his hands off the wheel and he is guided through. 

Lucy sits in the park, holding a shitty tin whistle. She's pretty happy with herself. Blows on it a little too hard and it screeches loud across the park. A dog gets mad and thinks violent thoughts. Lucy's oblivious, happy and foot-tapping like some sort of medieval folkie, it's sickening to watch.

Steve, stands in a circle of friends (and some passers-by who have stopped) beside the fountain and recounts his recent interaction. There is cheering at his victory and a general insurrectionary outrage among most pigeons there. Their day in the sun will come.