Seeing Little Bulb Theatre for the first time on the 2008 Edinburgh Fringe was a joy and a revelation. Where, one wondered, did these blissfully gifted ‘kids’ come from? (The answer, for the record, is out of the University of Kent.) As an avuncularly long-in-the tooth but still performance-hungry arts journalist I feel I can get still get away with calling the Bulbs ‘kids.’ That first show, by the by, was the multi-award-winning Crocosmia. And, as a depiction of familial grief, it was as funny as it was heartbreaking. Given that as a debut on the UK theatre-making scene how could you not fall head-over-heels for the Bulbs?
 
Several works later and the company is still operating in the bloom of youth. I may not have fully embraced every single piece the Bulbs have made since, but I’ve never lost my affectionate regard for them and what they do. They really are genuinely nice people, and just the sort to devise a piece, 2010’s Operation Greenfield, about sexual and other awakenings among the members of a Christian rock band. And their track record is excellent. I mean, this is a group who’ve yet to have their first stinker. How good is that? (Not that I have any ready-made knee-jerk response to that valuable thing called failure.)
 
Orpheus, their most recent and biggest production to date, is most certainly not smelly (unless it’s of Camembert, but more of that below). I loved this large but gorgeous and graceful slice of music-theatre in its first airing last spring at BAC, so much so that I went out on a limb and slapped 5 stars on it in a review for The Times. That rating, and the billet-doux beneath it, was, I felt, justified. I mean, the performance managed to wring tears of happiness from me twice in the first act alone. Music, movement, design and the buoyant, gifted Bulbs themselves can do that to a person.
 
For Orpheus the company’s challenge was to take over the aptly-named Grand Hall at the Battersea Arts Centre. The result, as I wrote at the time, was ‘a delectable mash-up of mythical Greek pageantry and Gallic show biz nostalgia. The setting, both warmly inviting and lovingly sent-up, is a slightly shabby Parisian music-hall circa the 1930s. The inspired nub of this BAC and Farham Maltings co-production is that the great, Belgian-born jazz guitarist Django Reinhardt (Dominic Conway, slightly-built but dashing and doubling as musical director) and assorted lesser mortals have come together to treat us to the edifying but tragic love story of Orpheus and Eurydice.’  
 
I ladled further praise over the piece: ‘All the hallmarks of Little Bulb’s aesthetic are here. Chiefly, a tickling sense of play that suddenly catches the heart plus lots of music including Saint-Saëns, Monteverdi, Fauré, several delightful dollops of Reinhardt and a smattering of original compositions. The evening’s abrim with epiphanies: a charmingly funny animal ballet, a gut-grabbing rendition of Hymne à l'amour by Eugenie Pastor’s comically gracious, Piaf-like hostess-heroine; percussionist Tom Penn’s transfixing turn as Persephone, pitching a plea of forgiveness to hubby Hades (the director, and clarinettist, Alexander Scott). Altogether ‘Orpheus’ is a just about perfectly-calibrated balancing act of sweet humour, unexpected gravitas and unpretentious beauty.’
 
That doesn’t say it all but, I trust, it says a lot and fairly succinctly. That was the goal, anyway.
 
And now the Bulbs are having a second crack at Orpheus, in advance of the show’s European premiere ‘transfer’ this summer to the Salzburg Festival (where Alex Scott’s also in the running for the Young Directors Award). I managed to track them down via email and throw a few questions their way. Below are the fruits of our joint labour.
 
Hutera: What sorts of things - about themselves, their process, etc - did the company members learn from making Orpheus?
 
Eugénie Pastor: Making – and performing – Orpheus has felt like growing up. After last year’s run ended it felt like something had changed, a threshold had been crossed. It all felt... bigger. And I also felt like I had become an adult. I learnt that with time, energy and trust, and feeling inspired and encouraged by my collaborators (who also happen to be some of my closest friends), I could become sort of good at playing gypsy jazz! We could upgrade from being a decent band to being a good band. Feeling comfortable with the challenges one sets for oneself takes time. Making theatre takes time. It's a good thing that it should take time. Artists need to be nurtured, supported and encouraged to take their time.
 
Miriam Gould: The importance and power of playing in an ensemble. If you let go of your ego you truly experience how that strength can be so much bigger than yourself.
 
Shamira Turner: The impact of dynamics in music. Also how good it feels to play French music on the accordion!
 
Hutera: Has the show changed in any way since the original run last spring and, if so, how? Or maybe I should say will it be changing...
 
Clare Beresford: I wouldn't say it’s changed a great deal over-all, though we're hoping to make a few cuts and tweaks to make the whole thing more streamlined, tighter and more robust. Also I think we've all got personal improvement challenges on our individual instruments. And as we’re having weekend gigs in the café bar, and have slightly increased our audience capacity, the whole event will just be ever so slightly bigger – which is exciting. And there’s the possibility of more people being able to dance afterwards, which I also think is a good thing.
 
Eugenie: I guess we're in the process of making it fitter! No cutting corners…

Hutera: I'd love to hear what it was like to be inside the show, meaning from the point of view of being a performer or a character.  
 
Eugenie: Orpheus is a lot of fun. It's cheeky and moving and celebratory, and such a joy to perform with people I love and admire. My character Yvette has a life of her own. I feel I've always known her, yet she feels so different from me. But she's always around, never too far or too hard to access – like a cartoon version of who I could have been! She's a maverick, and unreliable, but she also has an iron will and she's charismatic. With Yvette came her voice. That was here from very early in the process of making the show. And getting to know Yvette – becoming intimate with her, and letting my guard down because it felt like she knew what she was doing – has released something I had no idea was in me. Yvette's voice feels at once otherworldly and intrinsically mine. Once I discovered that it was there I trained it to make sure I could access it with ease, and without pain. But it genuinely came as a surprise to me. It scared me at first - it's so loud, so strong! A roar I didn't know was in me. I had never been this loud on or off a stage.
 
Hutera: On the theory that theatre can ‘speak’ to all the senses, if Orpheus had a smell, and a taste, and a feel what might those sensations be?
 
Tom Penn: Smoke and red wine.
 
Miriam: Whiskey and velvet (but also make-up and rosin).
 
Eugenie: Tatty burgundy velvet. The smell of night clubs once the morning has come. Spilled red wine, candles that have just been blown out, face powder, cold sweat, amber, patchouli… Performing the show has a smell too! The haze from the smoke machines, roasted Camembert, red wine, theatre make-up, herbal tea, high-end Highland whiskey, hairspray, the heat from the lights.
 
Clare: Uplifting geranium oil. (It sounds ridiculous, but there was a small bottle by my mirror in the dressing room and it did exactly what it says on the tin!)
 
Hutera: Lastly, is there anything a prospective audience member oughta know in advance about Orpheus (or the company itself) to possibly enhance their experience of it?
 
Eugenie: That we learnt gypsy jazz for the show? Clare learnt the double bass, Alex the tenor sax.
 
Clare: That you can make a whole night of it if you want to. There's food and champagne and an extra gig at the weekends if you want to really immerse yourself in the world. But equally you can just come see the show and leave. It’s completely up to you, but there is the option to extend your experience both before and after the show on weekends. I for one am determined to have some Camembert this year as I didn't manage to have any last time!

Little Bulb Theatre
Orpheus
at the Battersea Arts Centre
8 April - 17 May
For info and tickets bac.org.uk
More about the company littlebulbtheatre.com