There are several reasons for theatre nuts to head to Chelsea in May. You've probably already seen or read about Katie Mitchell's delicately creepy production of The City - a Rubik's cube of a play that you can't stop turning over - at the Royal Court. But the Court isn't the only theatre of note in the borough. For some time now, Chelsea theatre on King's Road has been quietly plugging away with its live art programme, producing work that registers as the merest blip on the critical radar, but often stretches theatrical boundaries.
I didn't intend to spend much of Monday afternoon shuffling around London sidestreets tied in a giant band of knicker elastic with nine strangers. That's what I found myself doing during Here Whilst We Walk, a piece that attempts - albeit with debatable success - to turn the urban landscape into a playground.
And I certainly didn't imagine I'd be spending 20 minutes sitting in a portable building, staring into the eyes of a man I didn't know as if I was falling in love with him, before swapping shoes and socks. But, silly me, I should have expected the unexpected when I decided to go to a batch of shows at Sacred, Chelsea's fortnight-long festival of experimental theatre.
Crossed Wires by the Breathe company is another one-to-one encounter. It invites you to become part of your own Hitchcock-style film noir, as you stalk a character - your victim - through the city streets. I still remember the queasy sensation that passers-by knew just what I was up to.
Landscape Seascape Skyscape Escape is a hugely endearing tale that grew out of the obsessions of artist Chris Dobrowolski, who has built a series of worryingly rickety vehicles, including a hovercraft from plastic bottles. Dobrowolski is Polish by origin, and the segment of the show about his father getting to England via Siberia is quite a dark little footnote. The show-cum-lecture also uses fragments of Super-8 film to smashing effect.
There were disappointments. Richard DeDomenici's Culturail takes the form of a public consultation into the construction of a new tube line designed to link arts venues in south London. Dedominici envisages that funding for the project will be generated by the cancellation of the 2012 Olympics. Unfortunately, Dedominici doesn't run to magnificently crazed lengths with his premise. And his presentation is so slapdash that it trailed off into muttered apologies, making me feel rather warmly towards the Olympics. I'd rather have been watching, say, a graceful high-diver.
Sacred audiences tend to be a game, attentive bunch, but Julia Bardsley's Almost the Same (Feral Rehearsals for Violent Acts of Culture) caused a few pale faces and walk-outs. It's a hectic, grisly but finally uncertain work, during which the artist growls, howls and apparently gives birth to a brace of dead, furry rabbits. Its point was muffled by the prevailing glumness.
But this shouldn't put you off. If you're in the market for something a little - or a lot - different, Chelsea theatre is just the ticket.
