Curiously enough, while Abinger was engrossed with its pageant the
village. of Shere, not half a dozen miles away, was being entertained with the,all-but-premiem (the Gate Theatre at Dublin was actually first in the field) of a new comedy by the Irish playwright, Denis-Johnston, presented by the enterprising company of Cambridge undergraduates and others who have descended on this favoured corner of Surrey for the last few summers and have now rigged up a commodious but undisguisabk barn as permanent theatre. Their own printers, producers, scene-shifters, carpenters and everything else, they achieve on the stage itself what for amateur actors (stiffened sometimes by one or two professionals) is a very high average standard. This particular play, Storm Song, centring round the vicissitudes of a company of film-producers on a remote West Irish island, will commend itself to everyone who has seen the Man of Aran film, and it ought to be produced on a London stage, a a
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