Guest Blog: JMK Award Winner Adam Karim on GUARDS AT THE TAJ

'F**k the King. Beauty Shall Live.' Calm down, I'm not having a pop at Charlie boy. Well not yet anyway. Well, maybe a bit. More of that later. These aren't actually my words, they're the words of Babur in our production of Guards at The Taj at the Orange Tree Theatre.

The King in question is Shah Jahan, Mughal Emperor of Hindustan and builder of the famous Tajmahal. He doesn't talk to plants, and when this emperor is angry there are consequences far more terrible than strongly worded letters to apathetic MP's. In Rajiv Joseph's play, Shah Jahan has created a world where the rules and expectations are ruthlessly clear. Blasphemy? Three days in jail. Sedition? Blinding. Meet a nice girl in the Harem? Executed. Better not do that. And yet Babur is prepared to risk it all for just a glimpse of the most beautiful thing ever created.

Here Rajiv Joseph taps into that thing all good drama needs, a universal truth about the human experience, brimming with contradictions. Can beauty exist without a bit of ugliness? Do we indeed need these structures, and the ruthless figures at the top of them, to allow beauty to be achieved in the first place? If so, then when 'the King decrees beauty is dead' - must it be so?

Hi, I'm Adam, I'm directing Guards At The Taj. The grateful winner of this year's JMK Award (alongside brilliant designer Roisin Jenner). In order to get to this terrifyingly exciting moment where we share this play with you, we had to pitch to a panel through many rounds, so I've been thinking about it a lot!

I want to share a little with you a little of my thoughts on this central provocation - of Beauty vs Order. Because Bonny King Charles isn't as all powerful as Shah Jahan, and our politicians speeches move the heartbeat of the average person less than a cold Gregg's sausage roll, I don't think we stop to question the little sacrifices we're making everyday in the name of upholding order, let alone the pitiful amounts of beauty we receive in return, wrapped in our electric blankets, burning our grandparents in bonfires to avoid ever mounting energy bills, stamp duty & care home fees. Did we sign up for this? And who's going to send me Lynx Africa shower gel at Christmas now?

I was never supposed to be an artist. I was supposed to get better grades (much better grades), get a sensible job (doctor, lawyer... - you know the drill) not complain, not think too much, not feel too much and definitely not express any of it. So, it's still quite a shock to me at times to find myself in this position. I've been very lucky in what can only be described as a burning hellfire of an arts landscape where opportunity is rarer than royalty's sweat glands.

I managed to work pretty consistently as an actor before directing and learning my trade as a director through assisting I landed myself some pretty sweet gigs with wonderful artists I admire greatly. I worked at new-writing powerhouse Paines Plough, game-changing (and Olivier Award Winning) Bush Theatre on The P-Word, and the much-coveted Donmar RAD position meant learning from some of the best directing talent around (Tinuke Craig, Katy Rudd, Lynette Linton). And yet when I left that role in January this year, I had nothing lined up. Not a single gig. Sweet FA. A ton of great ideas and a ton of unanswered or polite rejection emails.

Winning the JMK is life changing, because now I get to actually do, and 'order'; the power structures of British Theatre, have to take a back seat for a moment. 'F**k The King. Beauty Shall live!' No, far from it. In truth there is always a price to be paid for beauty. Others must be the judge of our success in making something beautiful and to have a career in this ruthless game there is no avoiding the power structures.

Reviews will decide my immediate career trajectory, and there are no guarantees of this production leading to opportunities for more. Because of the above I'm not sure our landscape allows for truly 'radical' work - a shame for some and not others. But beauty here lies in enjoying the moment, and I'm blessed with a truly awe-inspiring creative team and cast of complete excellence without the usual baggage of jostling egos.

In part this investigation of beauty vs order is also about love. It's a cliché, but true, that we often work hard to earn the money to spend the time with the people we never see because we're working hard to earn the money to spend the time... you get the gist. This production has forced me to acknowledge that a little more, I hope I learn from it. To find wonder and beauty in the everyday, to appreciate my relationships, and to keep enjoying the little moments.

I hope audiences get some of that feeling, it feels weighty and special and, above all, the beautiful mess of being a human. More than anything I'm grateful we get to share a moment in contemplation together - the theatre feels special to me because it's one of the last places we do that.

Guards at the Taj is at the Orange Tree Theatre from 26 October- 16 November

Main Photo Credit: Marc Brenner

Rehearsal Photo Credits: Lidia Crisafulli

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