Flowers for her hair

Even though today is freezing cold... Spring is in the air. The first blossoms are sprouting... little dashes of pink in the garden poping out to say 'Hi!' ...The pool is getting warmer. The cats are staying out in the evening. In celebration of flowers I found a few clips filmed in Italy when we were given little yellow flowers by the school for womans day. Ah. So... Hello spring. Welcome.

The skin of an Elephant

Grahamstown is done.  National Schools Festival is over.  969 Festival is finished.  Life is quietly returning to normal.  So yes.  All that happened.  We did our clown show... 'A Day in the Desert'...  Barbara Draeger came all the way to South Africa... we hired a harp.  And worked for hours and hours in our - brand new - studio.  It was wonderful.  And intense.  And a whole load of fun... discovering new things.  Making necessary links...  All the while remaining true to the work - and the clowns.  The show was met with wildly mixed responses.  As red nose theatre clown is bound to do.  But because it so vulnerable - and honest - it is quite difficult - for us - and perhaps for some audience members too.  I don't know.  What I do know is I don't have a thick skin.  Sadly.  Or happily.  I'm not sure...  One thing is for sure - It was worth it.

Barbara and I as Fiona and Andromeda...
Pictures taken by Dean Hutton

The first obstacle - for me - was performing for Nick.  Ah.  Terrifying.  Nick was our outside eye... guiding us in the process of turning two 10 minute disjointed pieces into a cohesive 40 minutes.  These initial two scenes were developed while Barbara and I were studying together in Italy at the theatre school Helikos - and these scenes were the reason why we wanted to develop this work further.  But we needed help.  So Nick came on board to help.  Which was brilliant.  And he was brilliant.  He totally came with us into our world and helped us.  At the end of Grahamstown he said to Barbara that he's realised that you cannot watch Clown with you head... you have to watch it with your heart.  Gr.  That was moving.  Giovanni says that all the time when creating new work with clown.  The head can get in the way and spoil it...  You have to be very careful.

But yes...  Back to performing.  Wow.  That was hard.  Really hard.  But in this time I made a small - but perhaps important - realisation...

Giovanni Fusetti (Director of Helikos) often talks about the fact that the clown is already dead... so when you are on stage, just go for it... because, what with being dead already, you can't actually die... so you have nothing to lose.  And during this time of performing for Nick (who has never seen me perform - and clown is a bit of baptism by fire)...  I thought about this alot  'the clown is already dead... so just go for it.'  A mantra going over and over in my head.  What does it actually mean!?  But somehow thinking about it helped me 'to just go for it.'

And then one day I thought...  It means that naïvety is dead.  Once you have looked through the window and seen the world for all that it is, innocence is gone.  Naïvety is dead.  So the clown, who is necessarily naïve, is dead.  So go for it.  And people will either come with you.  Or they won't.  Perhaps this is what Giovanni means... perhaps not.  But either way it helped me just go for it... firstly for Nick and then the audience...

Because the most important thing about clown (and perhaps all theatre) is to 'play'...  As there is not much else.  There is no set... no cleverly written script and so on.  The key theatrical principles of clown - there are many i'm sure, but i'll name four here...

1.  Stay in the 'state of play' (rhythm, body shape, resonance)...
A clown is not a character, but a persona... there is a certain frequency at which the clown vibrates and if you hit that... play follows.  If you don't and you start acting.  It's over.

2.  Maintain contact with the audience always...
The audience is actually there.  And clown lives simultaneously right in front of the audience and in the imagined world.  So look for the ones who are are laughing or who are watching with their eyebrows up... and perform for them.

3.  The space matters the most...
Where are we?  Is the audience with us in the desert or amongst the starts?  That comes from intention... how you treat the theatrical space.

4.  The story is bigger than you...
It has to be.  You are in service of the story.  And if this is true you can hold your centre and play.

So when you 'go for it' these are the principals / disciplines that can help... 1, 2, 3, 4 little things I had to remind myself of often...

...even when you can see the odd audience member is clearly thinking 'What are they doing!?'  ...with their eyebrows down.  The line between the sublime and the ridiculous is sometimes incredibly thin.  And it is this that makes the work so risky.  And perhaps it is this that also makes it worth while.  So you have to try and focus on the audience members who you can see are thinking 'What are they doing!?' ...with their eyebrow up... their eyes a little wider... their mouths slightly open... with the look of a childs delight... Because for a brief moment they are remembering their own naïvety.  For it too is dead.  And that can be moving for some people.

So yes.  Here are a few lovely responses to the show...

We won an award.  Yay.  A Standard Bank Encore Ovation Award.  So that was nice.  We are now an 'award winning show!'

A few people saw the show twice in Grahamstown and in Joburg at the 969 Festival.  And that was delightful.  And encouraging.

We received a wonderful email from an audience member who was touched deeply by the work and wanted to understand how we 'developed the characters' and asked about our 'research process'... which is totally interesting that somehow she knew that these were not just characters from a bank of characters.  Discovering 'your clown' is to discover what is uniquely you - and uniquely funny about you.  And this can come from - and often does come from - our deepest wounds.  Our most hidden insecurities.  It is a most fascinating, fun, and often quite traumatic, process.  I wrote about it while I was in Helikos.  And then I wrote a bit more about 'Clowns in Life' (which is what this show is...)

Then Barbara was in a coffee shop buying tea when a young girl who saw the show at the Schools Festival said... 'Thank you for making this show.'  That was moving for Barbara - as she didn't swoon or say it was the best thing she'd ever seen... she simply said thank you.

And finally Robyn Sassen wrote a wonderful review for us... "...Suddenly, sitting in the audience, you are four or five years old, and the matter of giving a creature in distress your most precious possession to show him that you love him is perfectly acceptable. Suddenly the interplay between harp, space ship and a pot of tea is so profound that nothing else really matters."

Barbara has returned home.  A new show is in the world.  And this marks the beginning of what will hopefully be a very long journey.  x Thank you Barbara Draeger.  Thank you Nick Warren.  Thank you Giovanni Fusetti.

Theatre is mask

A few weeks ago I received an email from Matteo Destro requesting a testimonial for the new Helikos Website about the MaMa's (Mask & Material) course which is to run in tandem with the theatre course at the school.  I was only to happy to do this.  As the school is simply wonderful.  Here are my thoughts on Mask and Material in theatre....

There was a moment during my studies at Helikos that I realized what ‘Mask & Material’ mean in theatre – this idea that theatre is mask and mask is theatre. Like a fast moving train it hit me smack bang in the face.  It has changed how I see theatre and how I work irreversibly.

Mould of The Snow Goose Hunter... based on character work
with James Cairns

‘Mask’ in theatre extends far beyond physically wearing a mask on stage – and can be taken into all aspects of script writing, staging, costume, performance, lighting, props, voice, music and so on.  In my understanding ‘mask’ is essentially the idea that there is a distance between the theatre maker and the work.  In this distance there is room to play.  And in this play there is a whole world of poetic potential.  Bringing to life, and to the stage, this idea that there is ‘a whole universe inside a single drop of rain.’  And in so doing ones work becomes so much more.  More theatrical.  More poignant.  More funny.  More engaging.  More complex.  More simple.  More.

When I first heard the idea that ‘all theatre should be masked.’  It was a very abstract concept until we began the MaMa’s (Mask & Material) process at Helikos.  I will try to describe it briefly. 

Mould for the second hunter in The Snow Goose based on character work
with Taryn Bennett

When you are physically moulding a mask out of clay a form starts to appear.  If you allow that form to take you on a journey, you will make a mask that you were perhaps not aware you were going to make.  And similarly so it is with theatre.  When you start on the rehearsal floor… be it with physical masks or not… be it with a written script or only the beginnings of an idea… The work sometimes presents an unexpected ‘volume,’ meaning, an unexpected turn that takes you on an unexpected journey.  And it is here that real poetry can be found and brought to the light of the stage… If you are brave enough go deeper into this ‘unexpected volume,’ and if you are able to see it! 

It was in the MaMa’s classes at Helikos with Matteo Destro and Giovanni Fusetti that this horizontal poetic landscape was opened up for me in a very practical, real and honest way.  So much so that I now think it impossible to make theatre, and in fact any kind of art, without asking these seemingly questions:  What is the material?  What is the mask?  And how far can I go? 

If you have ever for a moment silently asked of your work ‘could there be more?’ The answer is yes.  And it is studying ‘Mask & Material’ with Matteo Destro and Giovanni Fusetti. 

Matteo and I on my last day at Helikos and in Florence

If theatre is to not only survive but to thrive, I believe it is through the ancient tools and understanding of ‘Mask & Material’ that it shall do so. 

Go and see for yourself.

"We see you!..." - The art of mocking

In the Wings has its first guest writer... the ever brilliant supremely wonderful Vika Mia Dahlberg-Hansen to talk about Bouffon and Grotesque from this past month at Helikos International School of Theatre Creation... Where she is currently studying...

Dancing Bouffons!
photo by Stefano Borghi

Hello! This is Vika, a fellow traveller at the HELIKOS journey; I am honoured to be a guest writer on this blog as I have always told Jenine that I consider it my best notes.

Jenine asked me to write about last term where we studied Grotesque and the art of mocking in the crazy world of Bouffon –or Buffoons as I have heard English speakers call them. I had never heard of them before they invaded the school…who are they? Well, they have big white puffed bodies; their shape is somewhat human, but twisted into a grotesque version of the human form. Giovanni tells us that they are minor Gods related to satyrs, who come to our world, and love to imitate it, because to the Bouffons everything is a game, and their favourite game is called “Human Society”. They see everything and will play with the subjects most dear or painful too us: family, moral, race, religion, war… Nobody or anything can feel safe…

How to become a Bouffon? Well, once you have got your puffed body, you need to change your state of mind into an extremely playful one, somehow similar to that of a child – but with absolutely no feelings about what you play except for the ecstatic excitement of the game. And then you have to change the way you look at things, isn’t it all fun? The gaze in your eyes will adjust and get a slightly sadistic smile behind… and AH! The Bouffon has arrived, as Giovanni would state. Now all you need is a Band – a gang of fellows up to no good – ready to mock in jubilation…

Of course there are many ways to mock something. A character might contain a mocking aspect, but the treatment is somehow compassionate, a clown is the mocking of the actor behind it, but in both cases they generously give or share their suffering with the audience…the Bouffons take from and feed off the audience and make them suffer. At best it should be almost unbearable to watch, and the laughter is different, if it comes… once you have surrendered to the madness.

At our show Giovanni warned the audience that the might feel offended, but he did not apologize, because it is not the artist that makes the world grotesque, the world is full of contradictions. The Bouffons have no opinion, they just play the game, can you imagine to be part of this?

However, even if the Bouffons have no opinion the actors and writes behind them do, and you have to check what you want to say, and first of all check that in the mocking of a subject you must mock EVERYTHING about it… luckily the Bouffons have no problem with that.

So if you mock the subject of abortion, make sure you get around both the people for and against. In the mocking of the event of 9/11 let the Bouffons scream with fear as they watch the airplanes crash but at the same time let them take photos in excitement and film it for YouTube. And if you let the Bouffons have a go at the people who do not care about the extreme exploit of the third world, have them also mock the new age conscious consumers who feel like such a better person. And in the end do not forget to give a kick at artists who make art about social injustice through the art of mocking...

Bouffons are played at an extremely high level of tension and energy,
and after a full of play you would find big white pools of exhausted actors lying around the floor of the studio...
photo by Stefano Borghi 

After the crazy mind-blowing period of mocking madness we worked on grotesque characters. The word grotesque means something that is hidden. What lies underneath?

A singing duo.
photo by Stefano Borghi

There are several levels of grotesqueness in the world around us, all you need to do is push the hints further to find what was hidden. Often it means that the dynamic of a character must be pushed so far that the complete opposite will appear. Something is grotesque when the mask and counter mask are present at the same time, like fear and excitement, like complete order and absolute chaos… like a vulgar woman singing a sentimental love-song or a diva that demands: look at me – don’t look at me!..

The pushed contradicting dynamic creates an extreme tension that twists the characters and makes them suffer. The physical forms, like the Bouffons, are also puffed with stuffing underlining or creating a tension in the body. Any character can be pushed to the grotesque, it is a bit like wearing the character inside out and turning the volume to the max… sometimes you find quite surprising things stirring underneath the surface in the grotto –tesque.

Ahhhh.
photo by Stefano Borghi

Thank you Vika... you rock!

Love,

Jenine

Stand Alone

After working for such a long time on solo shows... namely Dirt and Sunday Morning... We have just launched into a two-hander. And it is so exciting. But before I move on to that I wanted to pay homage to the stage craft of solo performance... it seamed right as James Cuningham just won the Fleur du Cap for best actor in a solo show for Sunday Morning... It's rough being out there alone. And i've only done it in a short scene never mind an hour long play... with such a massive crescendo. 

What is it like to be on stage alone. James described it once as going from doubles tennis to singles. That your co-performer really is the audience.  That is it can be lonely and often exhilarating. 

Recently I received photo's from our final performance at Helikos... a few of which were solo performances... So... a bit about those...

Barbara in her solo performance of the Bavarian story Brandner Kasper
photo by Stefano Borghi

The moment arrived when we all had to stand alone on stage... The audience, the lights, the silence, the anticipation, the nerves... the waiting. Ahh. You step out and it's just you.  You alone... to make it happen or let it fall... and only have yourself to blame. The best form of defense is attack. They say. So go for it! Tell me a story. And we did. And in some ways I feel I learnt the most about theatre from this period of solo storytelling. So many essential theatre rules are amplified.  

Vika in her solo performance of the Snow Queen
photo by Stefano Borghi

Like... 

Action reaction... it is not possible for both your characters to speak at the same time... never-mind a group of gawking on-lookers inspecting Saartjie Baartman... or a league of angels swooping down to fight the Snow Queen's Snow Bees...  

Rhythm... if there are no suspensions there is no time to breathe... pause... give the audience (and yourself) a chance to take it in.  

Voice rhythm and resonance... no two characters should sound the same or it can be confusing... 'who is she now?' Someone in the front row whispers. Shu. Liz our voice teacher helped me so much with this one in my solo piece as some of the characters were starting to bleed into one another... Resonance is one one aspect of voice but so is rhythmical speech patterns. She has the most amazing ear for this. Respect.

Body shape... no two characters should have the same vibration, consistency, shape... 'which one is this again?'

Space...  Somehow one person creating space, drawing images in the mind of the audience, is so quintessentially theatrical. Because firstly it is quite difficult so one has to be rather inventive and suggestive, and so the imagined space can become huge... We feel like we can really see the mountains and valley's of Bavaria... the long and lonely corridors of the Ice Palace... the star spangled African night sky shining down.

Articulation. Play. Crescendo. The necessity of the audience.

Of course. But these rules are so amplified when it is just you.  Alone.

Me in my solo performance of Saartjie Baartman
photo by Stefano Borghi

I have a new found respect for what James Cairns and James Cuningham do in Dirt and Sunday Morning respectively. It's not easy to stand alone.

Tell me a story...

Upon leaving Helikos at the end of 2012 the last thing Giovanni said to me was... when you get home... Teach.  I told this to a friend of mine here in SA and her immediate reaction was 'oh dear - weren't you very good?'  And I laughed - firstly that this is the perception of teaching - so wrong - and secondly that I'd never even thought about it like that. So no - that's not why. The reason is because one should pass it on... Share some of what I've been so lucky enough to learn to people who would like to learn it... rock on!

Freya, Justin and Vika... being Pirates from our Pirates of the Caribbean Bandes Mime performance at the end of 2012

...So after a few weeks of being home this voice got a bit louder... But there were a few questions making it not that easy to answer... Where, what and how... I wanted something that was more substantial than a once-off workshop, somewhere not as restrictive and full time as a high school or a university, and most importantly... a place with students who want to be there. So I contacted the Market Theatre Laboratory... The Market Theatre Laboratory was started a number of years ago as a place for underprivileged students to come and study theatre. What a wonderful thing. Happily my application was successful and within a few weeks I had my first class. Storytelling. That's the title of my class... and my favourite thing in the whole world. Why would anybody ever want to do anything other than tell stories?

So we began... a room of 11 totally keen totally engaged totally talented second year students.  And it is such fun... Mainly we are looking at crescendo and theatrical space. Always with the space! How can we leave the theatre? How can we see the soccer field, the desert, the jungle, the bar... but really see it and not intellectually know where we are through dialogue, indication and explanations... but really go to there. Because that's what its all about. To really go there... into the imagined world.  Sometimes when it happens their faces light up like a brand new thought. ...It's what we all want, when we go to the theatre... To dream. To believe.

Tara reading the treasure map... where X marks the spot!

So the students have started bringing in short stories, fairytales and such that we will begin the very exciting process of transposing them for stage... Yay.

Tara, Me, Freya, Justin and Vika... watching the bird fly off with a precious piece of our gold!

This sequence of images (all taken by Stefano Borghi) is from our bande mimeé show... a troupe of mimes... telling our version of The Pirates of the Caribbean at Helikos International School of Theatre Creation... where it was all about play, rhythm, sound, crescendo, and of course, the space... Giovanni often said that it is your right to have fun on stage - and then it is your obligation.  And in Pirates... we had a whole load of fun.

And in the end... the young lovers find each other x
Sweet.

A Laboratory of Self Discovery

My school... Helikos International School of Theatre Creation in Florence Italy, has just released a wonderful video - made by the fabulous Elena Day who spend hours filming for these fab moments... featuring all the truly amazing work of the school and the ever brilliant Giovanni Fusetti.  Helikos is now offering a one-year course... and you should go.  It will change your work.  And your life.  This... 'laboratory of self discovery.'

Expressive Mono-Directional Masks

Mono-directional expressive masks by Matteo Destro, played by Puja Sarup and Vicky Wright
Photo by Stefano Borghi

My heart swooned when I saw these pics on the Helikos facebook page... I how I wish we had a professional photographer when we were playing these truly spectacular masks.  Totally wonderful.  But in these pics are are the masks we were lucky enough to play.  In the pic below on the right is the mask that I played, to the right left the one Andrea played and above to the left is the one Justin payed in a delightful fire-fighting scene of spontaneous love.  Memories.

I hear via the Helikos grapevine that the scenes photographed here were wonderful... suicide and legal papers.  Like clowns these masks can talk about very deep subjects... through laughter.    

Mono-directional expressive masks by Matteo Destro, played by Kevin Casey and Anja Zavrsnik.
Photo by Stefano Borghi

A Neutral Exit.

In the end my exit was not very neutral at all.

In my very last movement class, Helikos 2012, third year... we worked on the hero and the chorus and returned to neutral mask.  A cycle.  A reminder.  A spiral.  And it is so amazing what a mask does to ones play.  Suddenly so much more is possible.  As Matteo said... I can see your body has a souvenir.  Brilliant.  And it's true we should all have a neutral mask locked in a small suitcase ready to come out and remind one on a regular basis of the necessity of play.  The necessity to move forward.  The importance of the space.  The space!  A little souvenir the body carries but can sometimes forget.  I shall keep this souvenir close... and try to remember that the story is bigger than you.  And the audience wants to dream.  

And with that Helikos is over.  A complete circle perhaps.  With an impact that will last for ever.  

It was a complex goodbye.  Where everything I want to say... how much I want to thank the people... Giovanni Fusetti, the teaching staff, the students... turns very quickly in melodramatic gushing which somehow diminishes the absolute gratitude and love I have for these important people and the journey we have shared together.  Somehow 'Thanks' is just not enough - and somehow it is all one can say.  

So thank you.

Thank you Giovanni Fusetti for planting the school.  For the teaching staff you have chosen.  For the pedagogy that has changed mine, and every students life lucky enough to study under you.  For the rigor.  For the play.  Ultimately, for the flow.

Thank you Matteo Destro for describing complex idea's through simple poetry.  For mask.  For chorus.  For material.  For honesty.

Thank you Liz Baron for voice.  For resonance.  For rhythm.  For vulnerability.  For depth.  For your unbelievably acute ear.

Thank you Sarah Foster for trust.  For compassion.  For the complexities of a group dynamic disguised in seemingly simple games.  For bravery.  

Thank you Bruno... for the grounding.  

Thank you classmates for the friendships and play and learning and struggle and triumph and conflict and laughter and tears.  Till we meet again.

All of us. x  

Neural masks.  Things of great beauty.

Justin.  I miss you.

No longer teacher and student.  For now anyway.

This - of course - shall not be my last post on Helikos.  We are about to get professional photo's of our 2012 final show - where I shall talk about the work the process the tears the love... But somehow it was time for this post.

A conscious kitchen

When man, way back when in Africa, first took a stone and bashed it against another stone breaking it in two... he thought to himself, someone can do that to me.  He looked up to the sky, afraid... The Gods... and tragedy is born.  The idea that there is something much bigger than you that can wipe you out.  It was in this way that Matteo (our mask and movement teacher) described tragedy to us.  The fight with the Gods.  The inevitable.  The hero who knows he is going to die... and bravely sets foot on that journey.  The other way he described it was by asking...  What is the most tragic room in the house?  The answer... The Kitchen.  Imagine if the carrot knew its destiny.  Or the knife knew its job.  Or the hot oil understood what it had to do to the egg.  A conscious kitchen.  Tragedy right there.  Everybody knows... and continues anyway.  The opening title sequence to Dexter.  Mn.

At the same time that we were studying tragedy... the second years were studying the dramatic - and often tragic - silence of full mask.  An interesting parallel because in the end it is all mask... we were just working with a hero and a tragic chorus to amplify emotions and reveal subtext... they were working with a physical mask in a poetic silence that carries exquisite subtext and drama.  How?  I don't really know. It's a miracle.

Puja, Marisol and Vicky in masks made by Matteo Destro
Photo by Stefano Borghi

When words are no longer enough

Peter, Justin and Alenka (with Freya popping in in the background) in their Melodrama 'Orphanage'
The chorus creating the car crash in the background.  Ba.
Photo by Stefano Borghi

The last month or so at Helikos... which feels like long ago now... had us exploring the complex theatrical territories of Melodrama and Tragedy.  Starting with Melodrama... the terrible place where human beings make the worst possible decisions that have massive consequences.  We all remember Sophie's Choice.  What a film.  I still have a physical reaction to it when I think about it.  So... how to create that kind of drama on stage?  That doesn't leave the audience thinking they'd rather watch the film.  The place where the push and pull within a character is so heightened they don't know what to do, until they've done it... 'to be or not to be' type thing... And likely it was the 'wrong' choice, because there is no real 'right' choice.  Is there.

Massive drama... transposed for the stage.  What is the mask?  How can one best say and do these terrible things?  Reach a level of such heightened poetry that the audience will go with you and believe it.  We don't have the cinematic close up, the cut away or a carefully tailored sound design.  But we do have other things... like a chorus, like live music...

Song... for when words are no longer enough.  In class we created scenes that forced the character into an emotional off balance... a place where they can sing... believably.  For example, a desperate woman after a violent fight is left alone with a gun.  She begins to sing.  And we know, by the end of the song that she shot herself.  The pull becomes a push.  And.  Bang.  Of course it is important to earn this scene with the rest of the piece because if you get it wrong you will have the audience trying to hold back laughter... rather than tears!  Ouch.

The chorus... for amplification, subtext, background, space, consequence and so on... realising on stage that which we cannot see...  For example, after a mans fearless fight with cancer he has to submit.  The chorus manipulates him like a puppet.  And we know.  The cancer won.

A chorus.  What a rocking thing.  Such a wonderful tool.  Theatre... the way theatre should be... transposed.

Of course there is much to say about melodrama.  But what I think at the end of the day... for a contemporary audience... it is drama with very high stakes.  And the rules are perhaps the same.  We have to believe it.  And if we do... one can go very far.

A chorus of women in Justins beautiful song in our final performance last year
Photo by Stephano Borghi

During our time in Melodrama I was often reminded of our inchiesta on old people in the previous year.  Where the chorus work reached what I thought was a wonderfully high level both technically and poetically.  Trust.  Time.  What comes first?  The chicken or the egg?  But I do know that you need both.  And with this kind of theatre work you need trust and time.  You can't choreograph it so you have to listen and trust each other... and the time is better spent.  Important lessons.

Us in our final piece... a chorus of autumn

Write that down

As I quietly begin to rearrange the house and get ready for what will be a very full year ahead... 2013.  13.  A lucky number.  I have gathered all my Helikos notebooks... Two and a half years of notes. Of memories. Of learning. Of doodling.  Of remembering... In years to come. X

(see full image)

A late-night baking bash

As has become a school tradition, each year the Scandinavian students celebrate Santa Lucia... Freya makes the most delicious glug and Vika bakes... and here we are inventing different patterns and shapes with the dough.  A real baking bash in our little kitchen late at night.  The next evening the school studio was plunged into darkness... bar the flickering of so many tea candles... and Freya told us the tragic story of Santa Lucia.  This year Georgia and I were the Lucia brides...  As we are both pursuing other paths and leaving Florence.  We stood, the two of us, holding our single white candle as everyone launched into the Lucia song... doing our very best to sing in Danish, Swedish and Italian... and if there was English I don't remember it.  By then I was trying not to cry.

(see full image)

A pirates life for me

Tara, Justin, Me and Freya... leaping forward in a sword fight with Jack Sparrow!  Naturally... Aaargh!
Photo by Stefano Borghi

We first did our pantomime version of Pirates of the Caribbean in October... and happily we returned to it for our final performance in December.  Happily because it was a ridiculous amount of fun.  We had a slightly bumpy road getting to the final version... which of course it to be expected with devised work and new theatrical territories.  We went from being way to silent in our original version to being way too loud...  one could call it untreated shouting, with loads of over explanatory dialogue... thus becoming redundant.  Ja.  The stuff of theatrical nightmares.  So basically our explaining was taking more space than our action.  Yes.  A wonderfully important dramatic question posed by Giovanni in our pre-view performance... 'How long do you need to do something until the audience gets it?  Do you need to totally finish something... or rather evoke it and then move on.'  Last night I was watching the Woody Allen documentary and in the edit suite he will not take more of the audiences time than is necessary.  A wonderfully important lesson.  So here's to moving on... when necessary.

With all of this insight... first being too silent, then being too loud... we made brutal edits.  We fully embraced the advise from Matteo... 'be inspired by the movie don't try and recreate it'... and we did.  Finding fun ways to mask the voice... like an actor doing the voice for another character.  Careful choices with dialogue... what does the audience have to know that they can't see.  Being totally clear with our key images... like the reveal of Jack Sparrow.  Ta daaa.  It was so much fun.  The first night of our performance we were quite freaked out as we had made a stack of changes and were hoping like hell we would remember them all... but for the most part we did... and where we didn't somehow our energy was so high that we 'moved on' without giving anyone - even ourselves - time to think about it.  Ho ho ho ho a pirates life for me!  Ha haaa!

2012 High

As 2012 quietly draws to a close... Our yearly family tradition is to reflect on our highs and lows of the year we are about to leave behind... And our dreams for one that lies ahead. Right up there on my list of the very best of 2012 is performing as my clown 'Fiona van der Walt' with 'Andromeda' ...Barbara's clown. However the universe colluded for these two unusual friends to meet and share what they think of the world... I am delighted. And very grateful. Here we are in our secret underground rehearsal room with The Harp preparing our song for the crescendo of our show. How lucky we are.

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Chorus of witnesses

Today we had the most wonderful class exploring the tragic chorus... Dynamic, rhythm, text, space!  And on my way home from the grocery shop I passed my own special chorus of witnesses.  Hi Ho.

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A life time walking

Matteo said in a recent movement class that you can see family in the touch. In the way two hands come together a whole history is revealed. A vibration in the background. Simple. Beautiful. True. Like in the way these two old ladies... in perfect unison, arm in arm, sisters perhaps... cross Piazza della Repubblica. And off they go. Not for the first time today. A life time of walking together.  Right there, in the background.

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The bee thief

Unlikely friends, Fiona van der Walt and Andromeda Andromeda have began secret meetings to discover brand new things about the world. Clown philosophy... Exciting... A special place where anything is possible.  So something begins... We know not yet what... But we are excited for what I'll call for now 'The Bee Thief.'

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Pinocchio and the Old Goat

This is a pic of the postcard i'm about to post home... and it captures my week rather well... namely, Pinocchio [as seen swimming away from the shark], and the little goat [as seen peering down from the rock].  Yes...  Our storytelling adventures continue.  The week started out with Pinocchio, which sadly did not work... When telling a classic epic tale [or any story for that matter] it becomes very important that you know what you want to say and that you develop a common language to say it... both of which we did not manage this time around.  We have promised a glass of wine and a dinner in honour of our wooden friend whose soul we did not capture... this time.  Perhaps there will be a next time... with more time.  We shall make it up to you Pinocchio.

The week ended on Saturday with a public performance of a selection of stories from the previous two weeks... for me it was the Grimms Tale... 'Wolf and the Seven Goats.'  I know.  Who's heard of that one!?  I hadn't.  After the horror of doing another solo wore off it was rather fun playing an old goat and her 7 kids who get eaten by the wolf.

So, this week has been a major reminder of...  Crescendo.  What doesn't go up necessarily goes down.  Momentum.  Pace.  Rhythm.  The driving force... the push and pull of story.  Know what you want to say.  Ahhh.  And then say it.  Once upon a time...  Preferably in Italian... C'era una volta...

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Once upon a time...

A week of story telling.  I cannot help being reminded of the work of oh-so-brilliant Ellis Pearson in this week...  The 'neutral' storyteller holding a piece together as it flows from action and character back to the storyteller.  Ahh.  I miss Ellis.

We started the week with Grimms fairy tales.  Little Red Ridinghood... Hansel and Gretel... Snow White... the stuff of childhood.  The studio was filled with talking donkey's, and wolves, and dwarfs and mirror's and goats and and and... shape shifting between characters... creating different imagined spaces... changing rhythm all the time... looking for the crescendo... vocal resonance gymnastics... I think my favourite moment was when Justin telling the story of 'The Brementown Musicians' did the chain reaction of each animal as they jumped one on top of the other to look into the window of the house... a donkey, a dog, a cat and a rooster...  A stunning little explosion of technique and play.  It was fantastic.  Suddenly right there before us was a totem pole of creatures... what one person can do.

The process has also been fascinating... many times we have returned to the mimodynamic movement of the first year... materials, elements, animals... to find the dynamic of the story or to find the voice of a character.  Totally brilliant.  For example.  Finding the abstract movement of a herd of goats [in the tale 'Wolf and the Seven Goats'].  Then adding the sound, any sound.  Then letting go of the abstract physical movement and rather finding the same 'movement' in breath... from there adding sound... and from there shifting it to the voice of the goats.  The result was totally surprising and completely right.  So clever.  Liz... our voice teacher... so clever.

Because story is beneath everything we do always, the story has to be important... and 'who will tell it, if not you?'  To quote Giovanni Fusetti.  So the creation for this week was a solo performance of a story from your country, your culture... a legend, or a fairytale, or an historic story.  After much 'what to do, I don't actually have any culture' panic I settled on the story of Saartjie Baartman.  Scary.  For me.  For obvious reasons.  But there you go... after breaking down with Freya and Vika thinking how can I actually do this.  I could not 'change groups' - being the only person in my group - and I had no other story.  So I forged ahead... trying to apply some of the schools pedagogy... if it makes you cry you should go further into it.  This story is not only a wound for South Africa and England and France but for humanity.  Actually.  Vika and I have had many a cup of tea discussing culture and when it is yours and who can tell what stories and the human condition generally... and one of her many interesting conclusions is that reality TV shows are modern day circus freak shows.  I agree.  It's interesting.  Yip.  It's been pretty full on.  There were several moments this week where I - and I think all of us - felt so challenged I didn't think I'd get through it.  But you do.  Of course.  Aaaah.  And I'm glad I didn't change stories... and the pedagogy I believe works.  What a luck I'm here.

The solo's rocked... it was so fantastic to see all the different voices in the room... from the Danish Snow Queen and her swarm of white bees for snow flakes... to the Norwegian Polar Bear who is in fact a bewitched handsome prince... to the German man Brandner Kaspar and his brilliant death dodging... and so many many more.

Moving on.  We are getting a bigger studio!  Very exciting... so today we went to help get it ready for a couple of hours...

Vika warming her hands by the gentle flicker of a working light

Vika, Giovanni and Barbara being demented workers

Me sweeping with a dust mask... to try and preserve my disappearing voice