The Dialogue

Following on from the last post : : Maddy and Jake have crunched and uploaded the material they gathered during Dialogue at BAC, here.  It’s all interesting stuff.  To find the ATOMKRAFT stuff, look for the appropriate image… a little treasure hunt.

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Big on the continent

Recently Maddy Costa, theatre writer from the Guardian, and Jake Orr, founder of A Younger Theatre started a project they call Dialogue which hopes to better organise and understand the relationship between theatre makers and those that write about it.  They had been based at BAC during september and finished their residency with an afternoon’s structured conversation.  It was actually quite a frustrating afternoon, not least because I realised that critics see a ton more theatre and performance than I and probably other makers do, so from a position of reduced information it was difficult to engage.  Truthfully, I was a bit bitter that the writers in the room seldom write about the work I make, or worse, that I’m not making enough work for writers to critically engage with.  I had said I wanted critics to help find an audience for the work, or if not, then to propose a way in to artists and work that is unusual.  I think it’s helpful to have some text alongside documentation of the event, preferably not written by the artist.  Yeah, moan moan moan.

As I was leaving I saw a friend from Soho Theatre’s press department.  She told me she’d seen an article about me and my work in a German theatre magazine.  I was confused about this having never performed in Germany, at least not in any way that could be recognised.  Later she sent me the article.  I found that my bitter complaint in the Dialogue session had been somewhat answered.  It made me feel a hell of a lot better!  So here it is, including the rather clunky front page.

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Paper Stages

This is old news now, but I wrote a sideways introduction for a collection of performance scores, maps, mini-scripts published by Forest Fringe at Edinburgh festival 2012.  The book was yours by exchanging an hour of your volunteer time.  I should say that it wasn’t my decision to use a sans serif blue title, and the original title was “Some introductory points”.  So, here it is.  The rest of the book is totally brilliant by the way.  I’ve got a few copies if anyone wants to exchange some time…

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Poplar TV

Back from Berlin into an Olympic London, via Olympic Weymouth.  It looks great on TV, but somehow in the excluded flesh it’s a brash reminder of several kinds of  iniquity.  I tried to enter the olympic park without a ticket.  If you’re interested in experiencing a heady mix of paranoia and power trip I recommend trying.

 

Bill Aitchison is actively dealing with his anti-olympic issues by producing a report each day for Poplar TV, a reference to the town he was evicted from to make way for a resort in which to house London’s homeless during the games.  I’ve been helping him out here and there.

 

Visit the page, like it and support what is at the moment the only alternative TV station covering the games.  If it’s not, I’d really like to know so get in touch!

http://www.facebook.com/PoplarTv

Here’s a few, and there’s loads more on the channel.  Well done Bill for getting one out each day.

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Bear Accessory

Ant sends me another photo from Oslo:

 

Like you, I sense the romance…

“So I went to this party the other day right, it was really posh, you know, all the kings of the forest was there, you had your Eagles, your Stags and them Black Bears. I got an invite cos my cousin is a Black Bear and actually my grandfather was a Black Bear as well, and if you brush the hair on my left flank the wrong way it looks pretty black.  So, yeah, I thought, this’ll be great!  I always wanted to meet a Moose on equal terms, you know, I thought that after this I could hold my head up high as I crossed the forest on my way to the mountains, you know, which I have to do from time to time.  The only problem as far as I could see it, was jewellery.  A Brown Bear’s claws don’t really count, you know, not like horns or a massive beak or anything like that.  I tried a few things, balancing a branch on my head (actually the one with blossom was nice), wrapping my paws in brambles, but to be honest that weren’t going to impress.

Anyway, often there’s these humans that come up the mountains, to get away from the other humans I suppose.  I watch them from my rocks and eat what they leave for me, they’re respectful like that, although they don’t really like the same things I do.  I always hope they’ll leave one of their young for me, that would be more like it.  But, yeah, so I was watching this one female, the day of the party,, she didn’t have any clothes on, it was hot and she was just lying there on the warm rocks.  I wasn’t hungry.  I had this party on my mind and I started to get the idea that this person could be part of my outfit, somehow.  I especially liked the irony of wearing a naked human as an accessory.  I suppose she must have heard me chuckling at that cos she got up and looked straight at me.  Now, she didn’t look too scared – and my summer coat is pretty tasty too, so maybe she were admiring it – so we just stood where we were.  I’d seen the way men act around women and I reckoned the strong-arm tactic just wasn’t gonna work, so I went for the other tactic.  I sort of lay down and slowly shuffled toward her, bit by bit, kind of going “hmmm ooohh” and stuff like that.  I felt like a bit of a prick, and hoped none of my mates could see me, but it seemed to be doing the trick.  She took a few steps forward.  She smelled like fruits mixed with wax and I started to drool a little bit, but I thought “Don’t eat her yet, mate!” She kept coming closer and I thought that as soon as she touches my fur, that’s it, I’ll have her.  Now, you know that bear’s have got a tender mouth, right?  I could carry a dozen eggs a dozen miles across peaks and lakes, me, so no worries about damaging the jewellery.

Well, you can guess what happened next.  She looks at me a bit funny and reaches out to touch my head – Believe you me, no bear has exerted this kind of will power when faced with a free lunch like that – she touches my head and Snap! I got her by the elbow, perfect.  Oh, well she starts screaming and all that so I sort of lay on top of her smothering her with my summer coat.  After a while she stopped screaming and I let her up.  She was on all fours so I just flipped her up on me back and jogged off.

I won’t take you through all the hassle I had with her, I mean she had to go to the loo all the time, she wanted water and something to eat, she wouldn’t stop talking about this bloke who was supposed to meet her but didn’t and how her electricity bill was getting more expensive and what she was going to do if she didn’t get home that night.  I just sort of went “hmmm” and grunted from time to time.  So that evening as it was getting dark I nodded my head a few times up and down, like, she got the point and climbed on.  “This is it!” I thought, surely can’t fail to impress with this woman necklace / hat combo.  I was grinning from ear to ear as I approached the party place, I could hear all the others having a ball.  I was a bit nervous to tell the honest truth, but I had faith in my taste and daring.  I came round the trees, grunted to a few birds and foxes and little’uns like that, but everyone seemed to be looking at me funny.  What had I done?  I looked around, and blow me down with a feather, if there wasn’t every bloody king of the forest with their own naked human entangled in their horns or riding their back, or dead at their feet.  I mean, blimey, sometimes you just can’t win.

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Naked Moose Rider

Ant sends me a photo from Oslo, Moose Rider.  

 

I think: What is going on here?  Then a moment later, it comes to me…

“What I like to do when I get really, you know, down, is to go over to the woods surrounding Oslo and find Graham.  He’s this guy I know who hangs around naked; he’s got quite a good body actually.  I often wonder what he’s doing out there… perhaps he’s a poet or something.  So, yeah, I get to his copse and give a roar and Graham flits out from behind a tree (he knows what I like by now), he does a funny little dance and I hop over to him, grunt, and flip him up in the air with my antlers.  He does all these gymnastic poses I suppose, I mean it’s quite hard to see, but he’s really working it up there as his sweat goes into my eyes sometimes.  It gives me such a strange and lovely feeling to have this man breakdancing in my horns, not least because the vibrations of his exertion massage my aching head and raise my spirits again.  After a while Graham says something, flops down to the forest floor, and puts his hand on my snout.  Perhaps there is sweat in his eyes too as they are red and watery.  Gingerly he puts his forehead to my nose, I usually snort supportively at this point, and a moment later he is gone.”

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I am not Quite I, and You are not Quite Here.

I am not quite I, and you are not quite here.

For Hilary

 

1 x Hard White Card 22cm x 66cm

1 x Permanent Marker

1 x Arrivals Lounge

 

With your non-dextrous hand write large on the card a name

Stand at the Arrivals Gate

Hold the card aloft

 

Anon

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