tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71245401902619803642024-02-06T19:01:34.376-08:00Drama St Mary'sMark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.comBlogger802125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-39736623159968174742015-04-19T10:04:00.000-07:002015-05-06T13:09:36.285-07:00Chase the Dog Star over the Sea.<div>
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Our final day in Chile and we head out of Santiago for a day trip to Valparaiso. There are few places on earth that conjure so many romantic and evocative stories as the city. For centuries it was the first safe port for any sailor successfully negotiating the icy westerly winds and jagged terrain round the treacherous Cape Horn and so must have been seen as some kind of utopia at the edge of the world. To arrive was to have survived the most dangerous of voyages. To leave meant you were prepared to risk it all again. It's an in-between place, where time stands still.</div>
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The first Englishman Francis Drake was the first Englishman to navigate into these waters was Francis Drake, on his round the world voyage. His chronicler Richard Hakluyt describes Drake's approach in his book Voyages and Discoveries.<br />
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<i>'We ran, supposing the coast of Chile to lie as the general maps have described it, namely northwest, which we found to lie and trend to the northeast and eastwards, whereby it appeareth that this part of Chile hath not been truly hitherto discovered, or at least not truly reported.'</i><br />
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Nobody was expecting an English ship to sail into Valparaiso and so Drake was able to lay up next to a Spanish Galleon heaving with gold from Peru, board her and with a cry of 'abajo perro.' (Go down dog!) beat up and captured the sailors.<br />
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He then went ashore and rifled a chapel and wine warehouse before charting a course north for more plundering in unknown waters as he looked for a safe passage home.<br />
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We came in a different way, by minibus, and parked up in the Plaza Sotomayor facing the sea.<br />
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None of us have had a lot of time to pick up gifts and souvenirs and so we spent an hour bustling round the harbourside market and watching the ships from fishing boats to navel frigates manoeuvre in the bay, before heading off to a local seafood restaurant where our drivers knew they'd get a free lunch in return for bringing in such a shoal of tourists.<br />
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The meal was a joyous affair. Nobody really knew what they were ordering, but so much food was brought out and passed around that it barely mattered. News spread quickly of our presence and a within minutes of our arrival a smiley faced salty seadog appeared to serenade us with stories and songs from long ago.<br />
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We could have stayed all afternoon, but the town was calling and so after one final chorus of a song about a sailor who left his heart on shore and will one day return, we set out to explore.<br />
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Most of the old town is built on the hills over looking the harbour, where the brightly painted houses are packed tightly together. No cars can climb up to these places, but a string of funicular railways pluck visitors from port side into the labyrinth of winding streets where you can lose yourself for hours.<br />
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And that is what we did, meandering slowly admiring the colourful murals and small craft shops, every now and then turning a corner and catching a glimpse of the ocean.<br />
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Eventually we found ourselves back down by the sea standing next to the statue of another of Chile's unlikely heroes from the War of Independence, the Scottish Sea Lord Thomas Cochrane.<br />
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Cochrane is a fabulous figure, a contemporary of Lord Nelson he left England in disgrace having made significant money on the stock exchange during a boom period prompted by rumours of the Emperor Napoleon's death. The Lord was accused of being responsible for the hoax and was sentenced to a year's imprisonment and a short humiliating hour in the pillory opposite the Royal Exchange. The final straw came when his banner was taken down a physically kicked out of the chapel and down the steps at Westminster Abbey in a rarely performed official degradation ceremony. It was time for new adventure.<br />
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Cochrane, like many radicals of the time, had been sympathetic to the struggles for independence going on in the new world and so when he was approached by a representative of O'Higgins' recently established post-colonial government and offered command of the Chilean navy, he not only jumped at the chance, but proposed an even more exciting plan, which would not only strengthen the military position of the newly formed states, but revenge the great wrong he perceived his country had done him.<br />
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Defeated at Waterloo, Napoleon had, by this time, been left in penury and exile on the Island of St Helena in the middle of the Atlantic, an act of meanness that had left Cochrane full of contempt at 'the disgraceful conduct of those minions who would leave this colossus of the modern world to rot in captivity.'<br />
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So Cochrane decided, as he was now bound for the South, to commission a ship, rescue the Emperor, sail with him, chasing the dog star, through the straits of Magellan to Valparaiso and have him crowned as the supreme ruler of South America. In this way, he reasoned, South America could provide a republic to rival the United States in the north. Sadly for Cochrane, his own ship took longer to build than the Deptford boat builders initially suggested and so, impatient to leave, he and his family hitched a lift on a Chilean sailing ship that he redirected to return to Valparaiso via St Helena. En route, however, news arrived that the Spanish had galvanised themselves and were set to attack Santiago. The ship redirected course, again, and headed, with full speed back to Chile to lend support. Napoleon never got to hear of the plan and died broken, alone and seemingly forgotten three years later. <br />
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Oh what might have been?<br />
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Time was all too short and Antonia was keen to get us to the beach at Vina del Mar in time for sunset. I was suddenly struck that our own wonderful adventure to the far end of the world was coming to an end and as the light fell and the students got their feet wet in the Pacific. I made a promise to the twinkling lights of Valpariso that I'd come back soon.<br />
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Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-56660429046801607382015-04-18T23:27:00.000-07:002015-05-03T15:58:33.471-07:00The Highest Point.<br />
It's a slightly later start this morning which gives me a chance to slip out for an hour and take a long walk around the near deserted city centre. I skirt Cerro Santa Lucia and pick up the Alameda down to La Moneda, gleaming in the early light. I can't ever pass the Palace without my thoughts going to the coup. I picture the jets flying in low to bomb, the soldiers storming the side entrances and Allende in an old tin helmet, using the AK47 that Che Guevara had given him as a gift to take pot shots out of a window. I wanted to wander through the two courtyards, but the guards were only allowing certain people in and I clearly wasn't on the list. Instead I did a lap and then took a lift down from the Plaza de la Ciudadania to a new cultural centre built underground. A quarter of a century into democracy there is still a feeling that this is a country finding its voice. Everywhere old haunts are being reclaimed as new galleries, arts centres and theatres. In this Chile feels an upbeat and exhilarating place to work. There's still many problems to solve and many stories to tell, but at 9am on a Saturday morning it's just me a cleaner and the owner of the coffee shop. Patience, I suspect, is a Chilean virtue. The day lies ahead, so I walk back to La Cascona.<br />
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The groups wish each other luck and the minibuses set off to the Senames for the last time. It's a glorious morning and spirits are up.<br />
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The children are very excited to see us. Jonathan has been waiting by reception for half an hour, keen for us to get at least one run through in before the showing. Some face paints have been bought and a small team of the children appoint themselves make up artists. It doesn't take long to get ready.<br />
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The show itself takes place in the sun baked playground and all the residents and teachers have been invited. The space is huge and their is little shelter for the audience, who end up a fair distance away from the action in the only shade available. A mic is produced and the children take turns introducing the work.<br />
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We start with Gilverto's story and then move into a dance routine and onto Jonathan's narration. I'm struggling to see how this eclectic mix is working for the audience, who look a little bemused.<br />
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Jose though is delighted, Gilverto has never completed a project before. He's either always walked out or been taken out of class before the end. This we're assured is a breakthrough moment for him. The moment where both the teachers and, more importantly, he himself finished something. Jose hopes he'll be given more opportunities and more credibility, as a result.<br />
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Other students are wanting to contribute and the session breaks its formal arrangement and evolves into an impromptu Karaoke and dance.<br />
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One ten year old lad, who we're told comes from a rural community in the North of Chile, formally invites a girl to dance and whilst many of the others jump and whoop and joyfully enjoy the freedom of the music. The two of them hold each other and with great poise, dignity and composure, dance together. Nobody mocks, in fact nobody really notices. They are left alone and it's rather beautiful.<br />
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The grand finale is a mass game of musical statues.<br />
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Back in the classroom I thank Jonathan and ask him whether he'd consider me for future projects? He agrees. I asked if there are any tips he has for me as an actor. Any thing I could do to improve?<br />
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'The trouble with you Mark,' he says after a moment of thought 'is that you think too much with your head. You need to trust your heart more.'<br />
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We have a small celebratory party with the children who've been here all week, but soon it's time to go. It's been a terrific week. The children present us with friendship bands and bid us a safe flight. It's a sad parting, but it's Saturday there's and there's football to play. We head for the exit and they run out into the playground demanding to be on one team or the other.<br />
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We're back at base by 2pm, the work is done and we're free until the evening. Half the group want to chill, but half come decide to come with me for a final walk round Santiago.<br />
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We head first for the Emporio La Rosa, the city's most famous ice cream shop and according to The Daily Mail (so it must be right!) one of the world's top 25 parlours. We've been promising to try and get to it all week. The choice is impossible: chocolate and chilli, raspberries and mint, grapefruit and lime etc. and so we pick something each and share them round.<br />
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We cross the river at Plaza Italia and wander through the street markets of trendy Bellavista, until we arrive at the foot of the Cerro San Cristobal where we take the rickety funicular railway pass the zoo up to the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary at the summit.<br />
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The statue is Santiago's version of Rio's Christ the Redeemer, but pre-dates that more famous icon by nearly twenty years. Both stand at the highest point of their respective cities, protective symbols for the millions of people who live in their shadows; but whereas the redeemer tilts his head downwards towards the millions who live in his shadow, Mary's gaze is heavenward, up and over the Andes, that stand even prouder than her on the horizon.<br />
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It's breathtaking and we spend an hour wandering the site. Like most tourists, we've taken the easy way up, but we're joined by the many Santiguans who daily take the challenge of mountain biking their way up. Sleek and sweaty, they've really earnt the view and the chance to free wheel back to town.<br />
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In 1987, the fag end days of the dictatorship, Pope Jean Paul II blessed the city from this spot and a third group of visitors make their own steady pilgrimage up the mountain to pray, light candles and leave messages and offerings at Mary's feet.<br />
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Back at street level we wander round the corner to La Chascona. Pablo Neruda's town house, where he hid his lover Matilde, before eventually the affair broke and the couple married. Matilde had a wild mane of bright red curls and this inspired the name of the house, which literally translates as messy hair.<br />
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The house is closed by the time we arrive, but a little amphitheatre has been constructed facing the property and several musicians and poets sit, jamming lightly in the warm evening air. The mood is relaxed and so we sit for a while and enjoy the moment with them.<br />
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We get back to La Cascona in time to change and hit the town. Carolina and Consuela are taking the group clubbing Chilean style. Julie and I are out to dinner with Antonia, Jose, Allie, who's been working as a translator at the Pudahuel sename and her boyfriend, with plans to join them later.<br />
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It's great to have a chance to reflect informally on the week. Both Antonia and Jose are very pleased with the work, and already we're talking about how we can improve the experience for next year. We talk, drink and eat far to much to make dancing sensible, but promises are promises and so we set off into the night to find the students. Allie locates half the group in a small 'picada' not far from Quinta Normal, where traditional Cueca is being played by a gang of poncho wearing huasos.<br />
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'This area was very badly hit during the dictatorship,' says Antonia as we drive through the deserted streets, 'even now this quiet is how I imagine Santiago was during those years.'<br />
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The bar itself is a little beacon of light in still of the night, a hang out for actors, artists and students. Allie orders a couple of jugs of borgona (chilled red wine and strawberries) whilst Antonia goes through the basics of the dance.<br />
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'You have to be the rooster,' she explains ' and use your handkerchief to lure your hen. Watch carefully and you'll pick it up.'<br />
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I delay getting up for as long as possible and enjoy watching, but the men are hopelessly outnumbered on the floor and it becomes clear that I'm not going to get out before I've at least had one go.<br />
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One older man in particular seems especially dignified. He walks side by side with his partner and then when the music starts begins to twirl his handkerchief joyfully above his head, occasionally running it seductively across the back of his neck or over his shoulder. At certain moments he becomes slightly more assertive and proudly stamps his feet to ensure he can't be ignored! Meanwhile his partner responds slightly defensively, twirling and flirting gently with the handkerchief, but refusing to enter into the same extravagant show. The only contact is with the eyes, until the final moment when partners link arms and thank each other for the pleasure.<br />
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Finally it can be avoided no longer. I try my hardest, but it's much subtler than it looks and I'm grateful for our host's politeness when the music stops.<br />
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'Well!' says Julie as I return to the table 'you can certainly dance like a cock!'<br />
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Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-57556123628028340572015-04-17T14:36:00.000-07:002015-04-29T14:46:22.033-07:00Jesus and the Zombies.<br />
Our final visit to La Pintana this morning for the last couple of workshops. It was a joyous celebration of the week's work with all the students firing on full cylinders, confident, resourceful and easy with the work. The children, as they have all week, responded by throwing themselves into each exercise. It was a great couple of hours.<br />
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We were sad when time finally caught up with us, but delighted with the response from both the kids and the School. The kindly deputy head gave a short impromptu speech in which she explained what a positive impact our time in the School had had.<br />
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'You're famous in every house in the neighbourhood.' She said smiling.<br />
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Back in the centre. I decided to forego a lengthy lunch and instead used the hour to rush around the Museo Historico Nationale in the Plaza des Armes. I didn't have time to look at the pre-Colombian collection, but instead took a whistle stop tour from the 1810 revolution to the present day.<br />
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There's a fascinating three way struggle between the Spanish rulers, the Chilean liberators and somewhere in the background the indigenous Indians, who by the time of the revolution had long been subdued, but in recent years are beginning to reassert their position in Chilean society. At the heart of all this is Santiago - acting as a pivot and a magnet for all the major events and decisions that have forged Chile's story over the last 200 years.<br />
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In the last room a small cabinet is supposed to house Allende's broken spectacles, retrieved from La Moneda Palace - a powerful metaphor. Ironically, but perhaps fittingly, they weren't in the case, having been removed for conservation purposes.<br />
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Our final rehearsals at the Sename and I'm back in Galvarino. Faith, Rachel and Chloe seemed to have cracked their group and the work in their room is purposeful and understood. The kids are excited about the prospect of performing tomorrow and keen to get things right. There is less impatient slumping into the sofa when things aren't perfect first time round, less trips to the bathroom, less shouting out of the window to friends in other classrooms. Those children who weren't so keen on performing were also busy, designing posters for tomorrow's show.<br />
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The other room, however, seems to have lost a little focus. Aliyah and Hannah look exhausted and the kids are struggling to agree on what exactly should go into the show and what not.<br />
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The saving grace in the middle of this was eight year old Jonathan who told us he had a hundred stories he wanted to tell. We persuaded him to focus on one and the rest of the room agreed to help tell it.<br />
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So Jonathan began.<br />
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'My story,' he announced 'is called Jesus and the Zombies!'<br />
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'What happens in your story?' asks Aliyah.<br />
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'When Jesus was little he was a good boy and ate up all his dinner. Then one day he wasn't and so God got mad and sent the zombies to get him. Jesus survived, but everybody was angry with him for bringing the zombies and so they decided to crucify him. His mother, who was called Mary was very sad. She knelt at his feet and cried a lot!'<br />
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'I've got an idea.' said another lad, who'd only really joined today.<br />
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'What is it?' asked Carolina.<br />
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'I think we should do a rap at this point to cheer Mary up.'<br />
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'A rap?'<br />
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'Yes. I've got a good one.'<br />
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'Ok. Let's try.'<br />
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To be fair the rap was very good and so we kept it in.<br />
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'Then,' Jonathan continued, perhaps worried that we'd forgot the main part of the story 'God sent the zombies to kill Mary and the rapper and all the gangstas! But Jesus was too high in the air, up on the cross for them to get him, so they were sad. It didn't really matter anyway because Jesus died as well.'<br />
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Story established we moved on to casting and directing. I was chosen to play Jesus, Carolina, Mary and everybody else zombies.<br />
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Jonathan proved to be a very exacting director and to begin with he wasn't happy with the angle of my head or the way my feet were placed when I was put on the cross. He also took a long while to sort out Mary's kneeling and crying position, during which time my arms began to get tired. I shook them out. and was immediately reprimanded for my lack of professional discipline with a withering glare and the unarguable reminder that :-<br />
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'Jesus SUFFERED!'<br />
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We moved onto the rap and Carolina was instructed to stop crying and throw some gangsta shapes.<br />
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'What's the rap about?' I asked<br />
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'It's about the state of education in Chile,' said Carolina 'it's quite good actually. Very political.'<br />
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As my arms were really aching now I decided to try my luck with the director again and asked whether Jesus might join in the dance, if only to get rid of the pins and needles.<br />
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'Listen!' said Jonathan firmly 'At this point in the story your wrists are nailed to the cross. So you can't just start dancing. The audience would never believe it!'<br />
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We ran it through a couple of times and then Jonathan went<br />
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through all the exits and entrances with us, just to get our timing right.<br />
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'Because you can't speak Spanish,' he said to me 'I'm going to nod like this when I want you to get up onto the chair. And then I'll cough like this when I want you to put your arms out for the crucifixion.'<br />
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Time ran out but Jonathan called the room together and wished us a good night's rest,<br />
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'Tomorrow,' he told us 'will be a big day.'<br />
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This evening Jose and Antonia took us to the Centro Cultural Matucana 100 by Quinta Normal Park to see a new play Leftraru, directed by friends of theirs. The centre itself feels like The Pleasance in Edinburgh, several venues, reclaimed from old storage sheds which used to be used to repair rail cars, set around a vibrant courtyard.<br />
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The show was sold out, but Antonia pulled some strings and with the health and safety officer looking the other way, we crammed into the stairwells to watch.<br />
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Although in Spanish the acting was crisp and with a little bit of context from our hosts we were able to really enjoy the story which focuses on a Mapuche community who are asked to choose the design for a statue of one of their warrior ancestors Lautaro. In order to help them make a decision they perform excerpts from an earlier play, about the warrior, written by Isidora Aguirre, a renowned Chilean playwright and social reformer, in the 1960s. This leads to a debate about whether an authentic ancestral voice can be heard if all the stories have already been colonised by post-colonial writers. The whole story is set in Temuco, some 400 miles south of Santiago and the heart of the ancestral Mapuche lands.<br />
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Antonia also explains that some of the work is verbatim and is collected on the morning of the show, rehearsed in the afternoon and sectioned into the performance each night. Thus the work has three levels - a sampled 1960s piece, contemporary updates brought in daily and the play itself. A fascinating structure.<br />
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Back in Belle Artes Friday night is kicking off. A masked street band wanders down the road and the weekend begins to unfold. We haven't eaten yet and so gratefully fall into a smoky Thai cafe for some noodles, fired up in front of our eyes by a showman of a chef. The problem with this city is you never want to sleep! But I have the words of my director buzzing in my head.<br />
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'Tomorrow is a big day.'<br />
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<br />Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-82064810567177475832015-04-16T14:08:00.000-07:002015-04-28T14:09:38.696-07:00Chile's other September 11th.<br />
With no call until three a small group of us take a walk across town following the Calle Montijas into the Plaza des Armes and then onwards past the old church of Santa Ana and over the duel carriage way that marks the end of the compact city centre. We keep on Catedral and through the Burrio Brasil, a party area that stays up late, but sleepy now and abandoned to the the Kiltros who watch us warily, causing us to cross the road a few times. This is there territory and their time. Let sleeping dogs lie.<br />
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All the way we notice the carbineros are gathering ready for the strike. They hang round on street corners or sit in armoured trucks. smoking cigarettes and laughing. The show of strength is a little unnerving, but the business men and other commuters rushing to work don't bat an eyelid.<br />
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Finally we arrive at the Museum of Memory and Human Rights a huge, but rather beautiful in a National Theatre kind of way, concrete and glass building opened five years ago as a centre from which to research and reclaim the atrocities committed during the dictatorship.<br />
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The public part of the Museum takes us through the history from the day of the coup on the 11th Spetember 1973 right the way through to Aylwin's assumption of the presidency as a democratically elected head of state in 1990. On the way hundreds of stories, testimonies, newspaper cuttings and photographs tell the stories of the disappeared and tortured.<br />
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The first room is dedicated entirely to September 11th and plays Allende's final speech, broadcast on the last uncut radio lines from deep within the Moneda Palace. Harrier Jump Jets were bombing the palace and all four branches of the military had turned against him. He knew time was up, but there is something incredibly noble and brave in his final words.<br />
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'<i>Other men will overcome this dark and bitter moment when treason seeks to prevail. Go forward knowing that, sooner rather than later, the great avenues will be open again where free men will walk to build a better society.'</i><br />
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<i>These are my last words and I am certain that my sacrifices will not be in vain, I am certain that, at the very least, it will be a moral lesson that will punish felony, cowardice and treason.'</i><br />
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There's also a television monitor which loops the first hastily organised press conference held by the junta later that evening. Pinochet, supported by the heads of the navy, airforce and the carbineros looks into the camera and address the people of Chile in clipped and authoritative terms, assuring them of his patriotism and good intentions. Each commander then adds their own explanation. It reminds me of the Knights speeches over the body of Beckett at the end of Murder in the Cathedral. At the end of the broadcast the camera pans up from to focus on a full size portrait of O'Higgins. The message is clear - these are the 'true' patriots liberating the country from the tyrannical politics of Marxism.<br />
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The rest of the Museum deals with the repercussions. We split up and make our own journey through the exhibition, horror stories of exile and execution. The layout is designed to end in hope, however and the final rooms look at the plebiscite which saw Pinochet's final demise and the victory rally in the national stadium designed to be no less that a demonstration of rebirth for the country.<br />
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One image from this rally stood out. A elderly woman making her way into the centre of the pitch. She stands in the centre circle and begins slowly to dance alone. She neither smiles nor cries, but rather imagines her long lost love. She stands for so many.<br />
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We catch the metro back which rumbles underneath the demonstrations back to Belle Artes, where Jose and Antonia meet us for lunch. The restaurant has a small TV on the wall and we watch the water cannons turn on the protestors barely half a mile away. If this was going on in London it'd be global news, but again most of the diners barely glance up from their soup. It's a piece of theatre and everybody knows their part.<br />
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Julie and I swap groups this afternoon and I head off with Antonia to the Sename at Pudahuel where the older children are based. There's a similar set up here - although the two groups are working at opposite ends of the campus to keep a couple of the girls, who have a long running feud, apart. The most noticeable difference is that every window is barred. It's one less escape route from the classroom.<br />
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I begin with Alice, Dom and Alex who already have a good relationship with the group. Each of the participants come in with big smiles and hugs. Young Francesca has brought her eight month old baby Damien. He's passed round the group, who take it in turns to keep him occupied whilst the activities take place.<br />
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The real problem is that the focus in the room is split and several times the well intentioned exercise is disturbed by a new arrival or sudden exodus. The girls are struggling to hold the group and although the atmosphere is friendly and supportive it's clear that progress is slow. <br />
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Antonia looks worried. Some of the exercises have been repeated daily and the participants want more. They haven't really seen the purpose of the work and aren't driving towards the weekend's show. <br />
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Things fare slightly better when the sculptures move onto emotions - love, fear, hate, sorrow - but these results aren't capitalised on and again the class becomes distracted.<br />
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I head off to the other group where a dance routine is in full rehearsal. Ross and Amy are leading with support from Dannia and Hannah. It's a battle here as well. A couple of lads who'd been absent yesterday are back and their presence is proving an inhibitor to some of the girls. The St Mary's students persevere and manage to get the group into line by the end of the session. It's been hard work, but nobody gave up. Ross is slightly down, feeling that much of the work achieved earlier in the week has been lost. <br />
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I'm impressed, however. If what I've seen is the worst class of the week then things are going very well.<br />
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Back across the courtyard things have improved for the other group, who have also been choreographing a street dance, which everybody is enjoying and working hard to perfect. We do a quick debrief on the way back to the minibus. Most things are going right, but I'm still a little worried that our students don't have enough ammunition to keep the work alive. All in all they've got ten hours with their groups and they need to have better plans to keep developing and engaging the groups. We talk through a few more strategies and ways in which the participants contributions can be harnessed and turned into exciting Drama. <br />
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Back at La Cascona there's real excitement amongst the Galvarino group who feel they've made real progress. Chloe has been in role as a Grandmother and encouraged the children to make up stories about the adventures she's had in her life, which has worked brilliantly. <br />
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Tomorrow is the last chance we've got to put everything together for the sharings on Saturday morning.<br />
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<br />Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-76985323171558456952015-04-15T14:43:00.000-07:002015-04-26T15:07:27.469-07:00Romeo! Romeo! Por que eres tu Romeo?<br />
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Back to the relative security of La Pintana this morning, but some of the company look a little worse for wear having drowned their sorrows after last night's straight talk. There's little sympathy from the rest of us, however, especially when the blame is placed on the water in the ice cubes, rather than the drink itself. By the time we reach the School, however, everybody is back on form, ready to go and deliver two cracking sessions, building on the initial work done two days ago. <br />
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Despite the occasional problem it's amazing to see how much the St Mary's students have grown over the last three days and they joyfully attack the session with a confident sense of authority. Each section of the workshop is deftly handled and the handovers from one student to another achieved with clarity and confidence. <br />
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Their sense of the dynamic in the room is also improving and their antennas are becoming more attuned to the children who are struggling to have full involvement. I'm impressed by the number of one to one discussions that are going on in the fringes of the room. No child is left out and all are feeling valued.<br />
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There's also a sense of progression today. The exercises build on each other, each one in turn demanding a more creative response from the children and, of course, the results are terrific. Photo race is the clear favourite. At the drop of a hat the room is filled with astronauts, then roller coasters, then dragons, then ghosts, each image preceded by a signed bi-lingual collaboration and much laughter. I'm aware that the St Mary's students are road testing ideas for the challenges of the afternoon.<br />
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Finally the lesson comes to an end and the class sing us a song in English, which they've learnt to say thank you to us. It's a much needed boost. <br />
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Julie and I had planned to swap supervisions this afternoon, but the feeling is that another day of continuity is needed to make sure that we follow through on the ideas voiced in our evening evaluations and so, after lunch, once again I head off to Galvarino with the team.<br />
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It's day three and we're now beginning to get a sense of which of the children are going to be able to take part on Saturday. Faith, Chloe and Rachel have developed a strong relationship with two young lads, Kevin and Gilverto, and are rightly leaning on their enthusiasm to pull in other kids who would otherwise perhaps prefer to watch from the side lines. A slightly older girl Barbara is always in attendance, waiting for the opportunity to talk to us about the shops in London and the latest trainer fashions. We haven't enticed her to perform yet, but she's happy to take some directorial decisions.<br />
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Others come in and out, but you can feel the momentum has changed and trusts are forming. We put together the Chile v England story. Alexis Sanchez scoring the winner with an overhead kick for which Kevin impressively hold a ten second pose.<br />
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Next door young Bruno has directed a music video with Aliyah, Hannah, Sophie & Lizzie and together with Jonathan, Bilan and Tamas, a whole range of choreography and storytelling is being put together. It's a much happier minibus that returns to base.<br />
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We don't really have time to reflect on the day's progress as the Ministry of Culture have generously invited us to the opulent Teatro Municipal to see the City ballet perform John Cranko's version of Romeo Y Juilieta. It's a production filled with exuberance and high camp, oranges fly across the stage during the fight scenes and long shimmering capes flutter off to exile, but it's irresistible all the same and there are beautiful performances from the lead dancers.<br />
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It's been a much better day and we dine late in a Tapas bar round the corner from the hostel, serving perfect Pisco Sours. The strike has been confirmed for the morning, meaning Julie's planned voice workshop has been cancelled. The Chilean students apparently took a vote on whether to approach the strike committee to seek special dispensation, given how far we've travelled to work with them, but, by a narrow majority, they decided to honour the strike. I think, having worked with them yesterday, this is clearly the right decision, and so for the first time since we arrived tomorrow will be a morning of rest.<br />
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Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-86217249139972846642015-04-14T10:44:00.000-07:002015-04-26T15:20:13.120-07:00University Students, Markets and Footballs.<br />
Early morning start at the University of Chile where I was due to run an Applied Theatre workshop for their Drama students, focused on some of the Theatre of the Oppressed methodology that forms such a vital part of our curriculum back home. It's a slight surprise that despite originating with Augusto Boal in Brazil very little of this work seems to have permeated through to the West coast of South America. We only had an hour and a half so I'd prepared and rehearsed a short play with Faith, Amy, Alice and Chloe back in the UK to try and demonstrate some of the key components of the work and introduce the role of the spect-ACTOR. The idea that we're all both artist and witness in the creation of our realities.<br />
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The department itself is in a beautiful old building and like the best arts colleges, the students seemed to be running everything. Pianos were wheeled from one room to another, newly learnt steps were being rehearsed in one corner of the central lobby, whilst costume fittings and physical warm ups took place opposite. Occasionally a lecturer wandered through, but their presence certainly wasn't the main motivator for the students who all understood and worked through their own productive routines.<br />
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Chile is going on an anti austerity strike on Thursday and so for some of the students this is the last activity for this week. It's not unusual for classes or even productions to be cancelled. In 2011 the University staff and students went out in protest at education cuts in May and only returned that December. Classes still occurred, with pairs of students volunteering weekly to deliver part of the curriculum to their peers. Interesting to imagine why that might not happen in similar circumstances back in the UK.<br />
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We're keen to find out more about the strike and so with the St Mary's students' consent I abandon our prearranged workshop and ask the Chilean students to sculpt some images to show us why the strike is important. After a brief discussion of these images. The students spend five minutes animating them into short non verbal scenes which give an active sense of the effect the current austerity measures have on their learning and well being.<br />
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The results are thoughtful, imaginative and elegiac. We add some text, although it's not really needed, and then invite interventions. <br />
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To my delight Alice puts up her hand to intervene and precisely because she doesn't understand Spanish and the students have limited English the scene goes in a completely different direction and becomes something else, something unreal, poetic and strangely beautiful. Without asking, the other members of the group join the scene, breaking the carefully explained rules of the exercise, until all the are on their feet. Plaster is pulled from a crumbling wall and small amounts are handed round for all to scrawl messages and images on the wall. Nobody knows exactly what the message should be, put together they're actively defining it.<br />
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We talk briefly about the links between theatre and political activism. I get the impression that although all the students believe that story telling is morale boosting and the camaraderie of creating work together can of course galvanise a group, none really felt that theatre could offer a methodology where you could rehearse strategies of persuasion or indeed that it could be used as a tool to engage directly with authority. The fool is only a fool because he speaks the truth to the King.<br />
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But this is a country still dealing with repercussions in the aftermath of the Pinochet regime and resistance is embedded deeply into the psychology. Positions of right and left are linked to real ideological differences and much energy is spent defending these positions. There is much more to explore and consider but time is up and the students have an acrobatics assessment to attend. They shake hands politely and file out. It's been a fascinating morning.<br />
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We meet up with the rest of the group and head to the one of the many fish restaurants in La Vega, the noisy market overlooking the fast flowing Mapocho river where we're once again bowled over by the plates and plates of delicious food that make their way onto our table for just a few pesos. The market itself is wonderful, vendors shouting about the sweetness of their strawberries, the bite of their chilli peppers and the size of their plums. Everybody fills up with bags of fruit to take back to the hostel. <br />
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We don't have a huge amount of time before we head back out to the Senames but it's enough for Sophie, Hannah, Lizzie and I take a short detour to the older Mercado Central on the opposite bank where, under a beautiful cast-iron roof and vaulted ceiling, designed in the 1870s by Charles Henry Driver, the British architect who also designed the Westminster Embankment, every kind of seafood is on offer in bountiful quantities. <br />
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I spend most of the afternoon session with Faith, Chloe and Rachel to see if we can turn round some of the problems encountered yesterday. A couple of plastic footballs have been bought in the market and these quickly become the focus for a series of exercises once we start work. To begin with they help as several games involve passing them to each other in a name game around a circle, but things quickly deteriorate and before we've really realised it they're being used as weapons. <br />
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Eventually we move on and try and persuade the group to invent a short story which we can tell in five freeze frames. The footballs have at least kept the children in the room and so sensibly the three leaders begin to lead them into a story of the football match. Chile v England. What happens? What are the five most important moments? What would photographs of those moments be? The session ends with a difference of opinion. Chile will win of course, but will they return from going two goals down to win 3-2 or is it more satisfying just to stuff England 5-0? Which narrative works best and why?<br />
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It's slow, but again the feeling is that we're getting there. <br />
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Jose, though, is quiet and just before we arrive back as La Cascona asks if the four of us - Julie and Antonia included - can have a meeting. <br />
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He's worried that we're not enjoying the sessions and that the indiscipline of the children has surprised us. He's unhappy about the balls - the kids aren't usually allowed them in class - and isn't sure that the work is going anywhere. Similar problems are coming up in the other Sename which Julie and Antonia talk about. <br />
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This is tough teaching and the temptation is to pack in and just play games. The groups are caught between trying to follow through the prepared work and keeping the sessions light and flexible. The truth is they need to be fluid and instinctive enough to do both. <br />
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We talk about the role of the translators who are key to the process. Occasionally our students are making the mistake of talking to them directly rather than talking to the children and trusting the translator to convert the language. This is putting unfair pressure on Carolina and Consuela and sending out the wrong message to the children over who is actually running the sessions.<br />
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I don't think we're miles away from getting things right, but I agree a more confident presence in the space is required and a sense that we're moving purposefully to a performance on Saturday. Do the students have the stamina? Do they have the technique?<br />
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Antonia and Jose head home and we call the students together again to underline some of the key points. <br />
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The students are tired and some harsh words are exchanged. Each session has little victories, but our continued critical evaluation of the work serves to underline that there is still much for all of us to learn.<br />
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<br />Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-4738071668355027952015-04-13T04:15:00.000-07:002015-04-26T14:48:59.049-07:00First Day of Work.<br />
Breakfast: toast, cornflakes and empanadas smuggled out of the barbecue, is a bit of a scramble in the communal dining room, but by 8am we're ready to ship out. Most of the group take the minibuses towards the primary School in La Pintana, south of the centre. Jose and I head back to the airport to pick up Sophie, the last of the students, who had a family wedding and so delayed her flight by 24 hours.<br />
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She hasn't slept a great deal and looks a bit shell shocked, but to her credit declines the offer to head back to the hostel for a rest and insists on going straight to the School for the first workshop.<br />
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As we drive Jose explains that La Pintana is one of the poorer districts of the city with 80% of its population living below the poverty line. The School itself, brightly painted on the inside, is surrounded by high barbed wire to discourage drug dealers from trying to peddle to the children. We have to go through two security gates to enter. The others arrive and after checking in on Sophie begin a quick physical and vocal warm up to prepare for the session.<br />
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The sessions in the School are all focused on speaking and listening skills and each hour long workshop has been divided down into five or six activities each led by an individual student. Team teaching with this many can be difficult and so to avoid chaos we've also designated a lead facilitator each time, which we'll rotate as the week progresses.<br />
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In the main we have a really good time and the two workshop go really well. We've stressed the need for full focus from everybody throughout and the students work really hard to support whoever is leading an exercise. The children, having to negotiate English and Spanish, as well as the sudden arrival of sixteen strangers into their midsts, quickly join in and a hundred ways of communicating make themselves apparent.<br />
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The children leave with big smiles and hugs. It's certainly been a different learning experience for them. In the minibus heading home we begin our evaluation. Clearly the energy was right and the team had worked well together to encourage full participation and remove any insecurities that the children might have had about working with us, but there's a feeling that some of the exercises are unconnected and that we didn't develop the session in as coherent a way as we could have done. It was great fun, but there's more to find and develop for our next visit on Wednesday.<br />
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Back in the centre Antonia takes us round the corner for lunch in our Bellas Artes neighbourhood. Lentil soup, fish, rice and sweet jellied flan all for 3000 pesos (about three quid.) There's little time to dwell further on the morning's work as we've the afternoon to focus on. Antonia is worried that the group will need more than energy and teamwork to make an impact in the Senames. She also advises everybody to change from shorts to leggings.<br />
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We split into two groups. Julie and Antonia head with half of the students to work with 12-17 year olds at the Cread Sename Pudahuel I go with Jose, our second translator, Consuelo, and the other half to work with the younger 5-12 year olds at Cread Sename Galvarino.<br />
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En route Consuelo explains the way the system here works. The children stay resident in the Senames for as long as it's the safest place for them to be and there is direct transference at 12 from Galvarino to Pudahuel. Regardless of their status they leave the relative security of these homes at 18. She tells me that if you're still in the Sename by that stage things are fairly bleak for you. Over 90% of the young people who are not reintegrated back into a family by then end up in prison. We're allowed to take photographs, but because of the vulnerable status of many of the children we're asked not to upload them on line.<br />
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We're met by Freddie, the avuncular principal, who welcomes us with a big smile and wishes us luck. He tells us competition to earn a place in our workshops has been fierce and that we should be clear if any of the children are disruptive that they're free to leave. Then a surprise as we're split into two rooms to work. This causes a moment of panic, but it's quickly solved Aliyah, Hannah & Lizzie take the first group and Faith, Chloe and Rachel work next door. I move between both groups.<br />
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It's hard at first to understand the rules of the house. Children wander in and out, use the window as frequently as the door and half an hour in their form tutor, Osvaldo arrives with tea and biscuits for all. Both groups initially struggle to get any focus from the excited participants, but slowly and surely with perseverance a couple of exercises gain traction.<br />
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Aliyah's group find the groove first. In essence she runs the session, talking directly to the kids but staying close to Carolina and insisting everything is translated back and forth. She establishes presence, refuses to be ruffled and takes her time. Hannah and Lizzie provide able support, listening and gently encouraging those on the fringes to take part, sometimes they do and sometimes not. By inches games are bought into and exercises explored.<br />
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Next door the struggle is harder. All three of the students are really able workshop leaders, but funnily enough it's their competence in this that seems to be causing a problem. In the UK they'd switch fluidly from one to another in this kind of setting, but here it's causing problems and by the time each exercise has been explained and made ready the room has been lost and the kids are indicating their disinterest. They battle through, but we all know a regrouping is needed. It's a thoughtful minibus ride home.<br />
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The other group have also found it tough and a few tears have been shed - a mixture of shock at the conditions in which the young people find themselves and our own failure to make an instant impact.<br />
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Back at La Cascona Julie and I convene an evaluation session in the common room. Everybody is keen to talk and so it lasts a good two hours. There's a slight tension in the room between those who want to simply find the games and exercises that will make the workshop run smoothly and those who feel that, despite the problems of the day, we should be working towards some kind of sharing of work for Saturday. This latter goal seems impossible to those who've not managed to make much connection today. The conversation is direct, honest but by the end of it all of us are determined to galvanise our efforts and try and push ahead with some of the play making and story telling exercises that we'd prepared back in the UK.<br />
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We knew it wasn't going to be completely plain sailing.<br />
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Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-91145471680051380232015-04-12T14:42:00.000-07:002015-04-26T02:15:39.549-07:00Hola Santiago!<br />
By the time dawn comes we're gliding through the high peaks of the snow capped Andes. It's a breath taking sight as the plane weaves its way towards the great plain of Santiago.<br />
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We're all exhausted but filled with anticipation. A forest fire a hundred miles West in Valparaiso makes the air thick, foggy and gives us a slightly unexpected Autumnal welcome but we're quickly through customs and met by our smiling NGO hosts Antonia and Jose, who bustle us into mini buses for the hour drive to our hostel right in the centre of town.<br />
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The journey takes us past several shanty towns, lined up alongside the motorway, which provides a vivid juxtaposition with the chic glass facades of the corporate towers as we pull off and come towards the city centre via the wealthy 'San- Hatten' northern suburbs to La Cascona - our home for the next eight days.<br />
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The rooms weren't quite ready and so we dump our bags and take our first steps out into our new neighbourhood. Just round the corner is the Cerro Santa Lucia, a little oasis of landscaped garden, built on the pre-colonial village of Huelen. For many this is where Santiago starts. Its conquest by Pedro de Valdivia in 1541 marks the begin of Spanish rule.<br />
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Valdivia was - relative to some of his more bloodthirsty compatriots - a fairly gentle conquistador who went out of his way to establish a harmonious relationship with the tribes who lived in the valley, but peace never lasted long and he spent the next twelve years, often supported by his warrior like mistress, the terrifying Ines de Suarez, trying to subdue the indigenous population. He was finally captured at the Battle of Tucapel, south of Santiago and killed in a gruesome way, although the details are disputed by the chroniclers. Some say he was forced to drink molten gold, others that his forearms were cut off, roasted and eaten in front of him, another story tells of his quivering heart being ripped from his breast and handed around for the elders of the Mapuche tribe to suck. We're hoping for a warmer welcome.<br />
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It's hard to picture all this amongst the trimmed herbaceous borders and the hissing of late summer lawns on the new hill. We work our way through the gardens to the highest vantage point and look out across the city. Charles Darwin spent a week in newly liberated Santiago in 1834, venturing inland from The Beagle, and enjoyed a daily climb up Santa Lucia to look out over the acacia woods which at that time surrounded the town. Now, with a population pushing eight million, the high rise urban sprawl pushes hard up against the surrounding mountains. The sun is out. The fog has lifted. The weather is beautiful. We're here.<br />
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Whilst some return to the hostel to rest, a handful of us carry on our exploration heading down the Avenida Libertador General Bernardo O'Higgins - or the Alameda if you're pressed for time - towards the Presidential Palace of La Moneda. It's the Santiago Marathon and we inadvertently find ourselves walking parallel to the runners for the final kilometre. Young and old they're without exception impressively fresh despite having slogged their way twenty six miles around the city. Each runner is given a medal and a small punnet of grapes. There are bands, shouts of encouragement and a steady stream of stray dogs, locally known as 'kiltros' who accompany the runners over the final few yards. We decide it's probably time to make our way back to La Cascona for a shower and change of clothes.<br />
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At two, with all of us scrubbed up, the minibuses arrive and whisk us off north to Antonia's family home in Los Dominicos, where the most amazing welcome barbecue has been laid on. Tables groan with piquant empanadas, huge steaks that melt in the mouth, tender chicken breasts, smoky chorizos, tomatoes, onions, ripe avocados and salty black olives, all guarded sentinel by bottles of the crispest white and most full bodied red wine imaginable. The hospitality is amazing and nobody is allowed to refuse. <br />
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We're introduced to Antonia's family and Carolina, one of three translators, who will accompany us to the Senames. She quickly convenes a Salsa lesson for the students. Living is easy and the smiles are broad. The final remnants of the fourteen hour flight shaken from us.<br />
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As the light start to fail, we fall, tired but happy, into the minibuses and head back to La Cascona. Work proper begins in the morning.<br />
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<br />Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-52318023309799190672015-04-11T12:46:00.000-07:002015-04-26T02:02:31.072-07:00Stranger in Richmond.<br />
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Tucked in tight on the Surrey side of Richmond Bridge, is a small park which slopes steeply down to the river. In summer a long queue waits patiently for ice cream and coffee from the popular cafe, built into the arches and cyclists, arriving along the Thames from Kingston and Ham, struggle up the impossible gradient from the river bank, up to the road.<br />
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Overlooking it all is the moon faced, hollow eyed and pursed lipped bust of an impressively decorated solider sporting glorious side burns, quizzical eyebrows and the stiffest of collars, whose incongruous presence in this Arcadian setting is mostly ignored by those messing about by the river.<br />
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This is Bernardo O'Higgins, the liberator of Chile, who arrived in the borough in 1795, as a seventeen year old scholar finishing his formal education in history and the arts.<br />
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London was a radical hot bed of ideas and idealists and inspired by his study of the War of Independence Bernardo began to develop a nationalist belief that South America could be released from Spanish colonialism as surely as the North American patriots had done twenty years earlier.<br />
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Thoughts of Chile formulated on the banks of the Thames.<br />
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Skip forward 220 years and this afternoon a group of intrepid Applied Theatre students together with Julie and I gathered at Heathrow in a state of high excitement ready to take part in own Chilean adventure, working for a week in Santiago as guests of the NGO Ventana de Color. It's a long journey, involving a two hour stop in Madrid before boarding a red-eye flight across the Atlantic.<br />
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It's hard to know what to expect at the other end. We're working at the University of Chile as well as in a School South of the city centre and a couple of SENAMES - children's homes run by the Chilean government where young people who have gone through particularly traumatic experiences during their childhoods are supported in order to help them reintegrate back into main stream education and society. The schedule looks rigorous to say the least and we spent last week in University putting together some loose schemes of work, but we all know that these will have to be reassessed once we've got our feet on the ground on the other side of The Andes. <br />
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For tonight all we can do is settle into our seats, pull the window shutters down and try and get a few hours of cramped sleep before the voyage really begins.<br />
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<br />Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-15044358363222046932015-02-15T00:48:00.000-08:002015-02-16T01:06:09.864-08:00Muse of Fire at The Globe.<br />
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Off to The Globe this evening, with our Applied Theatre Programme Director, Julie Spencer, to see the dress rehearsal of Muse of Fire, a specially commissioned immersive theatre experience for children, which takes them round the exhibition space and ends up with a sensational fire breathing finale in the main auditorium.<br />
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The show won a heap of awards the first time it played earning rave reviews in The Guardian and What's On Stage. <br />
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It's been brought back for this half term and Julie had managed to get audition calls for several Drama St Mary's students which has, in turn, resulted in no fewer than eight of them taking key performance roles as tour guides, puppet masters and a pair of terrified builders who disappear mysteriously. Our job, as audience is to find out where they've gone before confronting and driving back whatever it was that took them in the first place.<br />
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We're quickly split into four teams, each of which guided by a leader heads off in different directions to look for clues and possibly an escape. My team, led by the very able Emma, are taken into a tent like tiring house where we're introduced to an Elizabethan stage hand. The very man responsible for setting off the cannon that four hundred years ago set fire to the thatched roof of the original Globe during a performance of Henry VIII. Terrified that we'll blame him for this new disaster he presents us with risk assessment documents - Tudor style, a series of weather reports and news of an unusual siting, in the theatre's roof.<br />
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We move on a meet an archivist sitting in room filled with dancing books and self opening draws. Pulling clues from these he begins to piece together a synopsis for Julius Caesar, told by a storytelling puppet, who describes the supernatural events that seemed to occur after the murder of the emperor.<br />
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On we go to a dark, dank cave, to find the very foundations of the theatre. Here a voice from a glowing furnace deep beneath the city speaks to us. She is Muse, the last spirit of fire, and is reawakening after four hundred years of rest.<br />
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Our mission is clear now as we head of to meet two more tour guides, who, having heard that all the staff of The Globe have now disappeared, are busily trying to rehearse a two man Romeo and Juliet for this evening's performance. We agree to help out and are quickly cast as Montages and Capulets, biting thumbs and taunting each other.<br />
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But time is pressing and we're rushed into a magical forest for our final stop to meet a very modern magician dressing in a boiler suit who introduces himself as an 'ethereal exterminator.'<br />
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'Ever seen a flying pig, madam?' he asks one of the audience members.<br />
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'No,' she says 'I can't say I have.'<br />
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'That's right.' he replies 'And that's been the case since 1993.'<br />
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Finally all four groups, each of whom has ordered their journey differently, are led back into the auditorium, beautiful and eerie on this cold February night, ready for the final battle...<br />
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Half an hour later Julie and I are in the bar with the students who are really buzzing. The dress has gone well and there's a real anticipation about the week ahead. The Globe are happy as well, full of praise for the talent and professionalism of the Drama St Mary's students, who have picked up the roles so quickly and are doing themselves and St Mary's proud. They aren't just spear carrying or playing extras in a crowd scene, but vital components in a very engaging and exciting theatrical event.<br />
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It's going to be a big week for them.<br />
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<br />Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-28172546188500368002015-01-05T23:32:00.000-08:002015-01-08T01:00:25.252-08:00Re awakening Faith.<br />
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Last day at the Lodge. The day started with a fascinating tour of the building, led by the principal Ed Newell. It's been a royal residence since the restoration and is traditionally the home of Windsor Great Park's ranger. Shortly after the second world war King George and Queen Elizabeth handed it over to the formidable Amy Buller, who set it up as an education and research centre, focused on reconciliation. <br />
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We ended the tour in the cosy oak panelled dining room has it's own ghosts and history as it was here for three days that Stanley Baldwin met with the King's Private Secretary Charles Hardinge to try and find a resolution to the abdication crisis. When you look out of the windows into the park, you're seeing the same view as Baldwin and Hardinge saw as they collected their thoughts in-between, what would have been the most delicate of exchanges.<br />
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We broke into our seminar groups and were given the task of putting together a conceptual plan for our own production of The Winter's Tale. It kind of serves us right as this is exactly the same task as Tina and I set for the Creative Thinking module, last semester.<br />
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Inspired by the tour I decided to set my Sicillia here in 1936. With the country on the brink of a cataclysmic event. The rest of the production rolls out neatly from this point. The return of Perdita sixteen years later occurs in 1952, to a country still on rations, but about to celebrate a coronation and the optimism of a new Elizabethan age.<br />
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This precise time frame offers some other interesting ideas and images. Would the oracle be a crackling World Service broadcast or would it be a hastily arranged private cinema show a fuzzy pathe news report?<br />
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Would Time, who takes it upon himself 'To use my wings.' and asks us not to misunderstand his reason for jumping ahead with the action<br />
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'Impute it not a crime <br />
To me or my swift passage, that I slide <br />
O'er sixteen years and leave the growth untried'<br />
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be a shell shocked air man, unwilling to share his stories with us.<br />
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Bohemia seems to naturally translate to America in the early fifties. A land physically untouched by the war, but still bearing knowledge and scars. Was Time at Pearl Harbour?<br />
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The sheep shearing festival with all its connotations of rebirth, spring and new hope seems to work well if seen as the initial stirrings of a culture that will eventually invent the teenager, rock and roll, contraception, even civil rights and the space age.<br />
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Autolycus becomes a ballad offering, beat poet, hitting the road, looking as much for a new world as for purses to cut. In this version he is an avant-garde figure. The future, in the medium term, is his.<br />
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Camillo represents another form of poet. Like Auden he escapes the War, but pines for his homeland and driven by a 'desire to lay my bones there' begs Polixenes to allow him to return to Sicilla<br />
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There are lots of other nuances here that would have to be revealed in rehearsal. Who is Paulina? Who is Hermione? But I sense they would find themselves once we began to explore the text. <br />
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Just wish I had Time to actually do it...<br />
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Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-82531795200009753062015-01-04T10:26:00.000-08:002015-01-05T10:46:10.353-08:00Forcing the Issue.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
After breakfast we all set off across the Great Park to All Saint's Chapel adjoining the Royal Lodge.for Matins. The Lodge itself was the Queen Mother's residence for over fifty years and now belongs to Prince Andrew and his family. He's not had the best of weekends himself, with hugely damaging allegations about his private life splashed across all the papers, but you wouldn't know from the calmness with which the Estate is running. Cheerful policemen checking our passes, welcoming clergy, and friendly waves from members of the household driving their small gleaming cars up the drive on their way to work.<br />
<br />
I'd half expected us to run into a barrage of paparazzi, but either they knew that Andrew, due back in the country from a skiing trip, was holing up elsewhere or the security ring began on the outskirts of the park and we were well within it's embrace.<br />
<br />
The congregation was an intriguing mix of Cumberland Lodge guests and members of the royal staff. There was deference to rank and age, a couple of brimmed hatted ladies in waiting escorted to front row pews, cookers, cleaners, rangers and game keepers filled in with us. I sat next to a dapper kilted Scot, with perfectly slicked back grey hair. The pride he seemed to have in his position almost burst through his chest.<br />
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The service was short and sweet, beginning with a stirring singing of the National Anthem and supplemented by some perfectly pitched choral singing from the male choir, cherubs of all ages, squash nosed boys and plump ruddy angels.<br />
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We wandered back to the Lodge for more sessions. My afternoon was spent with Rowan Williams looking at some of the dilemmas that our initial discussions have raised. We began to look carefully at the ending, which works a little like a bonus track. In earlier work Shakespeare may well have been content to end the play with the reunion of Polixenes and Leontes, the reconciliation of Polixenes and Florizel and the recovery of Perdita, but he choses in 'The Winter's Tale' to simply report this. In the moment there is a sense of anti-climax here, the audience denied the reunion that the flight and chase from Bohemia had promised, but it soon becomes clear why as we move beyond the orthodoxy of the well made play and are led, with Leontes, by Paulina into her gallery.<br />
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The final scene is one of the most astonishing in the whole of Shakespeare and has to be played as if Hermione were simultaneously frozen statue and an accomplish in Paulina's elaborate therapeutic experiment. It's such a tender scene with Paulina coaching both Leontes and Hermione into an embrace, what happens next is left beyond the final curtain, but enough is revealed for the possibility of a reconciliation of sorts.<br />
<br />
Before dinner Rowan delivered a fascinating lecture focusing on the idea of bringing something to issue. He pointed out that the play begins at a moment of high expectancy. Polixenes is leaving Sicilia, finally, after a nine month stay. Hermione's pregnancy is also in its final stage, but, instead of allowing time to bring these two events to their natural conclusion, Leontes, in pain and fear at what they may mean, forces the issue, tearing up his world before Polixenes can leave and his daughter can be born. <br />
<br />
It's an empty defiance, an act of self destruction as much as anything else.The baby is born regardless, and his best friend flees.<br />
<br />
There is a physical cycle to the play. It's Leontes disgust of a perceived physical intimacy between Hermione and Polixenes that drives the opening action of the play and it the physical reconnection between Leontes and Hermione - no words are exchanged - that ends the action, although even in his final speech Leontes is still trying to orchestrate the action match making Paulina and Camillo and asking each of the play's protagonists to 'answer his part' in the preceding action. He is seeking to creatively dramatise the action of the play back, but, this time in collaboration with his fellow players.<br />
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We touched briefly on the theme of hospitality. The play starts in generosity and the sheep shearing festival is clearly a bountiful celebration with the Shepherd scolding Perdita for not working hard enough as the hostess by comparing her day dreaming and dancing with the energetic and robust performance of his dead wife, who clearly kept everybody's glass topped up.<br />
<br />
By the end of the play Leontes is, perhaps, ready to be hospitable again - or at least to try a mutual experience with others. It's this that makes love possible. The ability to place oneself in a position of vulnerability, a position where change and all the pain that comes with change is possible, fully knowing that you can't go back, but rather must bravely face the future, denying your own denial of connectedness and dependence. It's both a chilling and beautiful provocation.Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-40842497109193494432015-01-03T02:00:00.000-08:002015-01-04T02:01:15.566-08:00Unspeakable Comfort.<br />
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<br />
<br />
We began our first full day the day on The Winter's Tale by watching Greg Doran's late nineties production RSC version with Tony Sher, Alexandra Galbaith and the brilliant Estelle Kohler as Paulina. <br />
<br />
It's an amazingly fresh production given it's over a decade old, and despite a few problems - Mamillius is unreasonably sickly and wheelchair bound - made a clear fist of telling the story and unpicking the multitude of problems thrown up. It also featured our old friend Ian Hughes in high octane spirits as Autoclyus.<br />
<br />
As with all Tony Sher performances the psychological research into his role gave us a naked portrait of the various stages of Leontes' breakdown and this really became the theme for the day, as our first study group, led by Sally, delved into the opening encounters.<br />
<br />
When Gielgud played the role he couldn't find either moment or reason for Leontes to become jealous and so created a backstory which enabled him to be suspicious from his first entrance. <br />
<br />
There are other clues and perhaps Leontes is less concerned about Hermione's perceived infidelity and more traumatised by the approaching departure of his true soul mate, Polixenes? This fear of separation is exacerbated by Hermione taking moments to convince the King of Bohemia to stay, when Leontes' himself failed so spectacularly.<br />
<br />
There is an awkward passage in the aftermath to this where Leontes' suggests this is the second time Hermione has 'said well.' Hermione, playing for the court, begs to know the first time and Leontes' reveals<br />
<br />
'Why, that was when<br />
Three crabbed months had soured themselves to death<br />
Ere I could make thee open thy white hand<br />
And clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter<br />
'I am yours for ever.''<br />
<br />
It strikes me that the time scale is important here. The ease with which Polixenes and Hermnone arrive at agreement feels complicit when compared with the 'three crabbed months' of Leontes' wooing. <br />
<br />
Mamillius himself is a fascinating character. Leontes keeps looking at him as if he were a looking glass in these opening sequences, projecting himself onto his son, reminding himself of his desire to be 'boy eternal.' In the very first scene, before we're introduced to the play's main protagonists, the Sicillian Lord Camillo discusses Mamillius's national importance with his Bohemian counterpart Archidamus. Archidamus suggests that the young prince has given 'unspeakable comfort' to the people.<br />
<br />
Leontes is at the height of his powers at the top of the play. He has a doting wife, an heir, security in power and has had his best friend on an extended royal visit. Perhaps the unspeakable part of all of this is his desire to destroy the perfection of this world? Perhaps his is a pre-emptive attack. to control a decline that is inevitable from this moment. In doing so he challenges the Gods, time and nature itself. <br />
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It's Paulina who will need to help him put things back together, but this won't happen onstage and it'll take sixteen years.<br />
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Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-42952614129328820902015-01-02T09:19:00.000-08:002015-01-03T23:45:30.768-08:00Thou Metest With Things Dying I With Things Newborn.<br />
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<br />
It's been a couple of year since I regularly blogged and so I've made a new year's resolution to try and get back into the habit. It was a useful exercise in trying to order my thoughts about Drama at St Mary's and certainly think helped to unify the huge amount of activity that goes on day to day for the students and staff here.<br />
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We're still incredibly busy - one of the reasons the blog fell by the way side a little, along with personal revolutions brought about by both birth and death, and my own appointment as Academic Director - but looking back now across the last two years it's clear that Drama St Mary's is in a strong place to face the future and it's probably interesting to begin the chart the next chapters.<br />
<br />
We've developed a strategy to take us through to 2020 and increasingly are looking to focus our resources on actor training rather than academic study. Of course we want our students to be as sharp as pins and much of our curriculum looks in depth at learning how to problem solve, evaluate, analyse and take responsibility for the creative decisions you make, but we're also very much in the business of developing physical and vocal technique, offering students the opportunity to perform in a range of production and with a range of directors. From September of this year we're bringing on board a Technical Theatre BA to complement the training programmes.<br />
<br />
Our MAs are also developing. The Physical Theatre degree has blossomed and is now regularly producing successful touring companies who have picked up a handful of awards at fringe festivals across the world from San Diego to Rome.<br />
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The MA Directing is being redeveloped in partnership with The Orange Tree Theatre, which will enable these students to train at the theatre itself. They'll also have their final performances showcased at the theatre in the Spring.<br />
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We're back to work fully next week - but before the day to day kicks in again my colleague Tina Bicat and I have taken ourselves for a couple of days retreat with a study group at Cumberland Lodge in Windsor Great Park to do some focused reading on 'The Winter's Tale.'<br />
<br />
The retreat is being led by novelist Sally Vickers, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams and the eminent Shakespearians Stanley Wells and Paul Edmondson. <br />
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Tonight, after settling in, we had an introductory session from Stanley and Paul, who performed a great double act reminding us of the key themes and moments in the play. <br />
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We looked at Leontes' great rebuttal to Camillo where he spews rhetorical question after rhetorical question at his attendant Lord. It's a speech that always challenges actors. How in control is Leontes' here? Are the words coming from thought or are the thoughts racing ahead of the words? It's a destructive and flamboyant moment and it's hard to understand the sheer recklessness of his accusations.<br />
<br />
There was comparison between this play and 'Othello', Shakespeare's other great tract on jealousy. Although there it's Iago's careful seeding that ensures the agony grows. Leontes' wrath, by contrast, is sudden and although he goes on to rehearse his feelings, firstly to his non understanding son Mamillius and then to Camillo himself.<br />
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There are a few mysteries in the play mostly around Paulina and her role in the resurrection of Hermione. Does Hermione die or is she squirrelled away into hiding for sixteen years? Is the statue real? Does it come to life? When does Paulina conceive her plan? Or is it simply Time that controls events? What has the relationship between the two women been in the interim sixteen years?<br />
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It's these and some of the other themes and moments that we're going to explore over the next couple of days.<br />
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<br />Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-46286844395407015362014-05-02T02:43:00.002-07:002014-05-02T02:43:25.520-07:00Refreshing The Robben Island Bible.
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve just had two very interesting days working with actors
Jack Klaff and Jeffrey Kissoon on a revised version of my colleague Matthew
Hahn’s play <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Robben Island Bible.</i></b> We prepared a rehearsed reading to
open the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">20 Years of South African Democracy</i></b> conference at St Anthony’s
College, Oxford and then had a follow up gig in front of the deputy President
of South Africa Kgalena Molanthe at South Africa House, as part of his
country’s freedom day celebrations<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Matt’s play focuses on a banned edition of The Complete
Works of Shakespeare, owned by the then prisoner Sonny Venkatrathnam which was
surreptitiously passed around the cells on Robben Island camouflaged as a Hindu
religious book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sonny asked each
prisoner to sign next to their favourite passage. The choices made, with hindsight,
reveal the thoughts, fears and hopes of the men, many of whom would go on to
take leading political roles in the formation of the new South Africa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Matthew spent several years traveling to Durban, Cape Town
and Johannesburg to interview the surviving signatories about their choice. The
raw verbatim material gathered in this process has formed the core of the work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first sharing of this material happened at St Mary’s.
RSC actor and former St Mary’s lecturer Ian Hughes led a student and staff
reading here, in the theatre. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A few weeks later the great South African actor John Kani,
who was, at the time, playing Caliban in a touring RSC production of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Tempest</i></b>, agreed to take part in a further reading at the Richmond
Theatre. Matt and I travelled up to Stratford upon Avon to meet John in-between
shows and talk through the project and we were amazed by the additional
biographical detail he was able to give us about the prisoners, many of whom
he’d met through his own participation in the anti-apartheid struggle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Since then the play has had several readings at The British
Library as part of the Cultural Olympiad Restless World exhibition, at the
Festival Hall as part of the London Literary Festival and at the Folger
Shakespeare Institute in Washington DC.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Matt himself has just returned from directing a production
at Montana State University and there are further plans afoot for a reading in
Glasgow as part of this summer’s Commonwealth Games celebrations and a tour of
South Africa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s been a while since I worked on the material and I’d not
met Jack or Jeffrey before we hooked up to rehearse in Oxford on a glorious
spring morning. They knew each other of old, Jack played Iago to Jeffrey’s <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Othello</i></b>
at the Bristol Old Vic in 1990 and they worked together again on <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Free State,</i></b> Janet Suzman’s South African take on <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Cherry Orchard,</i></b> which
I remember seeing at the Birmingham Rep in the late nineties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We spent the morning clarifying the text and finding the
rhythm of the new version. Jack’s knowledge of his native country was
invaluable and he prompted us to dig underneath the literal meaning of the
lines to help grasp the emotional context of the men’s stories. Jeffrey was
superb with the Shakespeare - thoughtful, methodical and always looking at the
passages with a fresh, almost forensic eye. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">They have contrasting approaches. Jack was full of broad
brush strokes, keen to demonstrate the men behind the stories. He attacked each
section with guts, fury and an impressive range of native accents. Jeffrey’s
work is more internalised, he draws you to him and makes you listen carefully
to each word. Early on I wondered if I’d be able to pull them into the same
play, but as the day developed they began to complement each other, bringing
colour and texture to the exchanges and creating the necessary variation in
pace needed to keep an audience engaged for the full forty five minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By the afternoon we’d settled down, making final decisions
over line readings and working with more precision to try and communicate our understanding
of some of the meanings behind the men’s choices.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We began to see that often a contemporary English
understanding of a key passage transforms completely when it’s juxtaposed with
the biographical detail of the Robben Island prisoner who signed next to it.
The most remarkable example comes in Wilton Mkwayi’s choice of the forged letter
used to trick Malvolio in <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Twelfth Night</i></b>. A traditional reading
of this letter would focus on Malvolio’s gullibility and naivety. We laugh
along because we’re in on the trick and want the steward’s Puritan pedantry
revenged. However, when you realise that Wilton became engaged just before his
incarceration and had to wait 23 years before he was released and could finally
marry his fiance the end of the letter - ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Farewell,
She that would alter services with thee, The fortunate unhappy’</i> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- takes on a completely different poignancy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The last words of the play are Nelson Mandela’s choice from
Julius Caesar<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">‘Cowards die many
times before their deaths; <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The valiant never
taste of death but once.’<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Instinctively I’d given these to Jeffrey, based partly on
the fact that he brilliantly played Caesar in Greg Doran’s acclaimed East
African production at the RSC two years ago. When it came to it he was uneasy
about picking up the lines again and gently protested that he’d find it very
difficult to deliver them in any other way than he’d learnt for that run. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jack was happy to take them up and delivered a pitch perfect
Mandela impersonation which was spookily life like. For a moment I wondered
whether the impact of having a bearded white man voice, so accurately, the former
president might surprise the audience to such an extent that the prophetic
impact of the lines would be lost in astonishment but both Jack and Jeffrey
were, perhaps for different reasons, enthusiastically endorsing this new ending
with wide grins. We kept it in. In the theatre it’s sometimes a very thin line
between parody and goose bumps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The reading itself was strange. Jeffrey worked deliberately,
but, in the limited time we’d had to prepare, struggled a little to find some
of the lighter touches. Jack tried to compensate for this and, towards the end,
began to speed up. The balmy evening made the lecture theatre airless and the delegates,
straight from an agreeable College dinner, seemed attentive rather than
enthusiastic. Afterwards in the Senior Common Room everybody was incredibly
complementary and several of the audience seemed genuinely moved by the work.
In truth, I think, it dragged a bit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Next day we met early in the sumptuous library at South
Africa house. Overnight I’d made some cuts to try and streamline the narrative.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The prisoners who signed the bible fall into two main
categories. There are the original Rivonia trialists and their associates who
came onto the Island in the mid-sixties and a second wave, the black
consciousness prisoners, who were incarcerated after the Soweto uprisings in
1976. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The cuts fell mostly on the passages nominated by the former
group who tended use their choice to outline a philosophical or even
metaphysical position about life as a prisoner. The new version I presented to
Jack and Jeffrey focused instead on the more overtly political readings chosen
by the second generation. Sadly, some of the humour went too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As always there were some well-meaning <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>grumbles of favourite passages lost but, in
the main, both actors embraced the streamlined text and set about renegotiating
the transitions from section to section.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The reading itself went very well and was warmly received by
the Deputy President and the hundred or so invited guests, esteemed South
Africans now resident in London. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
play had a special resonance for Molanthe as he was sentenced to <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ten years on Robben Island in the late
seventies and early eighties, under the terrorism act. It’s the first time
we’ve played the show in front of a former prisoner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the Q&A afterwards Dillon Woods, the son of the
legendary campaigning anti-apartheid journalist Donald Woods, noted that the
prisoners highlighted in the play had come from a range of political
organisations, some oppositional to the now ruling ANC, he wondered whether the
time had come to recognise that the struggle for democracy in South Africa
involved many different voices and opinions beyond Mandela and Molanthe’s own
party.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amazing that twenty years on from
the first democratic elections in South Africa we’re sitting in the High
Commission listening to these conversations take place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What greater value can a piece of Drama have than to provide
the stimulus for a debate of this nature, asking difficult questions of those
in power, keeping authority in check, whilst reminding us of the sacrifices and
battles that have allowed us to be here in the first place? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-70609687586125354362013-07-02T00:59:00.001-07:002013-07-02T00:59:37.508-07:00Are You Ready?
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today sees us launch our pre-induction website for students
heading to Drama St Mary’s in September. It’s a new initiative that we’re
trying out to try and ease our new recruits into the way in which we think and
work. We hope that if students engage with the website they’ll feel slightly
more familiar with us on arrival and hit the ground running. The link is here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://exchange-fr1.smuc.ac.uk/owa/redir.aspx?C=nipYi6c0ckqhCSo7VD15jvtIHw6NStAIoCikwHFM7miuQUrtpSUtcfB48CaR1NVDRxAn4oMmnWs.&URL=http%3a%2f%2fwww.dramastmarysfreshers.weebly.com" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: blue;">www.dramastmarysfreshers.weebly.com</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s part of a bigger project to overhaul the whole of our
induction process, moving away from the idea of the induction week, with days
spent between long meetings of information overload and nights of hedonistic
revelry, to consider the process as starting when a student first accepts a
place and continuing on until they’re safely established on the course. This
might be at the end of the first semester, it might be longer. The work here is
very important, so anything we can do to help students focus on being in the
rehearsal room, motivated and moving forward, we will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Graduation is only a couple of weeks away now and inevitably
that means we’re beginning the process of looking for new students to join us
in September 2014. This year we’re taking a pro-active approach and taking our
auditions out beyond campus, visiting, schools and FE colleges to try find the
100 or so most talented and exciting young actors in the country. We’re also
looking to expand the international aspect of our work. Former student Leone
Hanman is touring the States in the Autumn looking to find the best American
students to attend Drama St Mary’s auditions in New York in November.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our campaign is running under the slogan ‘Are You Ready?’ and
already we’re receiving some pre-UCAS applications.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Drama St Mary’s will only ever be as good as the students we
recruit and we know that the synergy of a really powerful group of young
actors, working alongside the excellent staff here, can lead to remarkable
work. We’re ready for that to happen at St Mary’s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-11678035040048544672013-03-18T00:20:00.000-07:002013-07-02T00:26:22.823-07:00A Life in the Day of Drama St Mary's.
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We’re at the business end of the academic year and that
means most days for both students and staff are pretty full on!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For our third year students the week starts with group
tutorials at 9am and a chance to plan through the week ahead and discuss the
dissertations which are due in next month. Most of the cohort are close to
completion and eager that staff should read through the revisions and redrafts completed
over the weekend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At 10am the tutorials come to an end and the third years
move off for the first practical sessions of the week. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Applied Theatre students meet up with Keith Palmer, the
CEO of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Comedy School</i></b>, who have a ten year track record of using
stand up comedy as a rehabilitative tool. The group are organising a conference
after Easter exploring the uses of Drama in helping ex-offenders back into work
and spend the morning devising the workshops that they’ll offer to the
delegates. It’s a busy time for these students, ten days after the conference
they’re flying out to Durban to work with trainee teachers in looking at the
ways in which Drama can be used to in sex education with a particular focus on
gender assertiveness and HIV/AIDS prevention. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Matthew Hahn, who leads the trip, has a growing reputation
in South Africa based partly on his play <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Robben Island Bible</i></b>, which tells
the fascinating story of the influence Shakespeare’s plays had on Nelson
Mandela and the other political prisoners during their captivity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After South Africa Matt will jet off to Washington DC to
direct an American version of the play. This morning he’s on the phone in his
office talking through the casting with the producer. The work began as
rehearsed reading with the great South African actor John Kani on stage at the
Richmond Theatre and co-produced by Drama St Mary’s. It’s very exciting to
watch its evolution.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Meanwhile the Theatre Arts students, under the watchful eye
of Trevor Walker, have a morning working with a professional photographer
sorting out their head shots in preparation for their fast approaching showcase
event at the Soho Theatre in May. Duologues are rehearsed in the corners of the
room as each young actor waits their turn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Next door Kasia Zaremba Byrne, our director of Physical
Theatre, leads her students through a warm up, before a first full run through
of their short self-devised shows which open at Jackson’s Lane Theatre in
Highgate next Monday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a critical
moment as the students know that Kasia won’t be slow to point out any problems
with the pieces; but there’s great excitement as well a sense that the work is
nearly there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Elsewhere in the building things are just as hectic. I start
my teaching week with a lecture to the first years on Shakespeare’s <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Tempest</i></b>. We look at the contextual history of the work as well as
considering how different directors have chosen to depict Prospero, Caliban and
Ariel and end up in a fascinating discussion about the play’s apparent lack of
plot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although the aim of our degree
programmes is to train young actors for the profession, all of us on the staff
believe that the practical work students undertake needs underpinning with a
sound knowledge of theatre theory and history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s vital our students know how to read and understand plays.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For the second years this semester has been all about
working on shows. Theatre Arts are currently in our main theatre, fitting up
for a production of Lorca’s <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yerma</i></b>, directed by Katie Henry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our vocal coach Patsy Burn leads a singing
call to get the week started, whilst backstage in the workshop the technical
crew begin the final stages of the set build, which will transfer into the
space later in the week.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In Studio 2 Applied Theatre are working on a site-specific
piece, which is going to be performed on an island in the Thames towards the
end of April. Chris Baldwin, who’s leading the project, works mostly abroad in
Poland and Spain. He’s been away for a fortnight co-ordinating a festival of
culture in Wroclaw and is eager to see what progress has been made on his
return. Tina Bicat, our senior technician, sits in to make sure the new
material can work logistically. The main problem is to do with rowing an
audience of potentially over a hundred out safely? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Physical Theatre too are working hard, on a production of
Nikolai Gogol’s <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Government Inspector</i></b>, which will follow <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yerma
</i></b>into the theatre. They still have a couple of weeks before they come
off book so this morning director Anna Healey runs a focused session on
ensemble playing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At lunch the students pile into the refectory, full of
stories form the morning’s rehearsals and keen to find out how the other
companies are getting on. The box office, run by the third year students, opens
up. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yerma</i></b> posters have come back from
reprographics so the company finish their lunch early and spread out across
campus to pin them to the noticeboards. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have a brief catch up with our production manager Alistair
Milne who tells me that he’s had an email from third year Tim, currently on
placement at the opulent Burgtheatr in Vienna.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Al tells me that Tim’s first job on arrival was to mic up the Austrian
President when he came to give a lecture at the venue last week. Not a bad
first gig!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the afternoon the students return to rehearsals and I have
some time looking at schedules for next year with our administrators Jess and
Lou. We try and plan at least a year ahead and anticipate changes early. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, though, we finalise the technical
schedule for the MA festival of devised and directed work, which will play for
two weeks at the Tristan Bates Theatre in Covent Garden this summer. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the studio below we can hear the first
years running through their vocal exercises with Patsy. We focus a great deal
on technic here, especially with our first years. If we instil good practice
early then hopefully they’ll be equipped with the necessary skills to support
them through their three years here and , more crucially, beyond when they
begin to look for work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We’ve got an interview day on Friday and so Lou takes Kasia
and I through the applicants. There’s a healthy competition to get onto our
courses and so it’s really important to try and learn as much as we can about
each student who applies. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By 5pm classes are over. Trevor pops his head round the door
to report back on the afternoon’s collaborative provision meeting. We’re hoping
to reach a franchise agreement with a Performing Arts academy in Hong Kong.
Among the several benefits the partnership would potentially enable our
students to access work placement opportunities in their growing culture
sector. The agreement is a little way off but Trevor seems upbeat about our
chances of making something happen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tonight we’re hosting the wonderful <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cardboard Citizens</i></b> who
are bringing their touring show, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Glasshouse</i></b>, written by wunderkind performance
poet Kate Tempest, to the theatre.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Al meets the van and aids the get in whilst Jess makes sure
the company have all that they need. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cardboard Citizens</i></b> are the country’s leading forum theatre
company and their work, inspired by the practice of Brazilian theatre director
Augusto Boal, offers the audience the opportunity to swap in for the
protagonist and change the course of the action.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Kate’s play, focusing on the troubled relationship between
an eighteen year old girl and her step father is brilliantly constructed and it
doesn’t take long for the students to take over, offering different ideas and
strategies for how a brighter future might exist for the family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Afterwards the actors are persuaded over to the SU bar for a
quick pint, which gives the students a chance to quiz them about their
practice. These lively discussions push on towards closing time and are only
brought to an end when the stage manager reminds the company that they’ve still
got to get the set back to East London.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We cheerfully wave them off before making our own weary ways home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But we’ll all be back bright and early to begin again
tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-12350721397101692332012-11-01T08:30:00.000-07:002012-12-06T14:28:24.723-08:00Meetings at the IAA and some Mysterious Letters.<br />
An early morning session meeting the staff of the IAA and a chance to talk about the Applied Theatre work that we've carried out at Drama St Mary's over the past six years. It's bizarre that in all the time the degree has been running this is the first time I've had a chance to present a retrospective of the work we've achieved.<br />
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There's always been two distinct sides to the programme. One is an engagement with theatre as an educational tool, looking at the way improvisation and role play can imagine possibilities and explore alternative ways of thinking, behaving and being. The other is to look at the communal act of bringing people together to create or share something - a story, a problem, a meal etc. Implicit in both forms of theatre making is the notion that the aesthetic comes from and through the participants.<br />
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When I do talk about the work that we do at St Marys the moment that always seems to raise eyebrows is when we talk about how much of the work is produced by the students. We don't really believe any more that there is a secure theatre industry ready to open its arms to the hundreds of Drama students graduating each year and so much of our focus is on developing the entrepreneurial skills needed to create new opportunities. Most of our students still come to us at 18 and it's such a narrow window of time before they're leaving again at 21 or 22. In that time we need them to become industrious actors, discerning critics, intelligent directors, crafty writers, imaginative designers and problem solving technicians, but most of all we need them to able to do all of that without fear. There's not much time to wonder if it's the right kind of life for you.<br />
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The Academy run a similar kind of programme, but focused much more on live art than on community engagement. One of the hallmarks of the artists, actors and directors I've met in Iceland is an enhanced understanding and sensibility of the nature and texture of things. I guess it comes from growing up surrounded by fire, ice and water - but it's always striking that at the heart of much Icelandic art is a desire to capture a moment of dynamism and hold it frozen in time. Some of the work done by their students in this field represents a new generation looking for the simply beauty of a weather worn bird skull, the purity of a pebble or the expectation of a hanging raindrop. There is calmness and breath to everything here. On one level it feels like a polar opposite of what we're trying to achieve, on another it seems very closely aligned.<br />
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The IAA team seemed to enjoy the morning and we spent a lovely lunch break talking about possibilities for future collaborations. It'd be great to find a way to work with them.<br />
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This afternoon back with the students we did some further exploration of verbatim work, focusing particularly on found texts - letters, diary entries, newspaper reports. We talked about piecing together evidence to create a new story. The day after tomorrow we're going to try a mini-assessment.<br />
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Back at the house Vigdis revealed that when the family had first moved in they'd discovered boarded up in a cupboard a stack of hidden letters written in the fifties that had been lovingly placed there by a previous owner. They were sent to him from a lover who'd sailed away on the SS Gulfoss, which regularly plied a route between Reykjavik, Edinburgh and Copenhagen. The woman eventually got to London, staying first in a boarding house in Bow before moving to Hampstead. There was a photograph of her sleeping peacefully sent in one of the early ones.<br />
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As time went by the letters grew more distant and eventually after a couple of years stopped.<br />
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Vigdis doesn't really know what to do with them. It's clear that the man had placed them carefully, but did he want them to be found quite so soon? What became of the woman? Are either of them still alive? And if they are would they want to be reacquainted with the correspondence?<br />
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My instinct was to do some more research. Vigdis' is to let sleeping dogs lie. Still they are too precious to destroy and so they'll sit in the house until a clearer plan emerges.<br />
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Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-39913513433540241292012-10-31T08:31:00.000-07:002012-11-25T08:30:02.938-08:00Reykjavik Love Stories.<br />
Back to the IAA this afternoon for a session on verbatim theatre and story telling. We started with some warm up games to get the group comfortable at telling each other stories and listening to them before setting up an exercise in pairs. <br />
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I asked the group to decide on a theme that they'd like to share stories about. After a brief five minute discussion the group decided to focus their work on love. In half of the pairs I asked the listener to watch carefully and replicate the story with as much physical and vocal accuracy as possible. In the other half the listening partner was given a recording device on which to capture the story. I explained that the stories could be personal, philosophic, fictional or familiar, but whatever angle chosen the stories would be told publicly later in the session.<br />
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The pairs found somewhere private to tell each other the tales. For ease I suggested we should work in Icelandic which meant I was left to follow the authenticity of the rhythm and behaviour of the actors, rather than understanding the content of the story.<br />
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Vigdis M went first and was magnificent in performing Alda. We paused briefly afterwards to ask Alda how it was to hear her words retold and whether this act of recreation was honouring or exposing. <br />
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Vigdis J went next, but found it an impossible job to be Luca. She false started two or three times and although she finally gave us the performance she made it clear how uncomfortable she found the act of 'parodying' somebody else. We talked about the ethical implication of taking on somebody else's story and Vigdis highlighted the dilemma of having Luca in the room. She agreed that had he not been there it would have been much easier to 'approximate' his story. She just felt all she could do, in the circumstances, was to diminish Luca's words. It's interesting that we feel this. Should we not be able to honour somebody's story in performance whether that person is in the audience or not? Once a story is told who does it belong to?<br />
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We turned our attention to the recorded stories. Maria put on a pair of head phones and, repeating the recorded story out loud retold the story of Vigdis G's parent's first meeting on a cruise ship, including the romantic tale of her late father asking her mother to dance. Thora then channelled Svala's, occasionally sceptical philosophy of falling in love using the same technique. The group noticed how the very act of re speaking the words resulted in both actors reshaping their bodies to become physically more like the original tellers. Each body has a different relationship to language.<br />
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The two monologues seemed to at times to challenge each other, at times underscore and at times highlight and at times reveal. We ran them alongside each other, as an overlapping conversation. The result was fascinating and occasionally very moving, Once we'd taken off the head phones neither actor had any idea of what they'd done.<br />
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To end the afternoon we talked briefly about how we might use these Reykjavik love stories. Maria came up with the idea of collecting more and then arranging for a 'love bus' to pick up tourists from the hotels and drive them to sites all over the city, in each instance choosing the most appropriate for the telling of the story. Passengers could also be encouraged to give the driver instructions and take the bus to a place where their story might be told. These in turn could be recorded for actors to tell later. Over time a whole archive of love stories could be developed.<br />
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Each tour would be unique with actors being picked up and dropped off en route. It sounds a plan. I hope she'll follow up.Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-42983457287811052832012-10-30T03:58:00.000-07:002012-11-24T03:37:10.831-08:00The Harpa and John Lennon's Peace Beam.<br />
A day off from teaching and a chance to reconnect with Reykjavik. In many ways the city has changed little over the last decade. The shops on the main street seem as quirky as ever, it's still tough to get a seat in a coffee shop. Some development has taken place downtown however. The lonely statue of two sailors looking out across the sea has been rather swamped by an extended car park built to support the Harpa, a new concert hall built overlooking the bay. <br />
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Behind it a new kind of tourism has replaced the bobbing fishing boats. There are cafes, burger bars and whale watching tours. A new hotel filled with tiny, but warm boxed rooms over looks this revamped commercial centre.<br />
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The crash affected Iceland very badly. Possibly as much psychologically as financially. In my visits here ten years ago I'd always been aware of a basic level of prosperity, particularly in the city. A snug insular world of warm home comforts designed to provide protection from the huge wilderness of the rest of the island. Now there seems to be a slightly a more outward looking approach. Iceland is less a place for tourists to discover much more a centre catering for their needs and the Harpa itself which sits so prominently on the shore makes a bold statement that Iceland is open for business and keen to attract investors. Beyond the glass fronted exterior are spacious foyers, welcoming cafes, several beautifully proportioned concert halls and an expansive sense of possibility.<br />
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Perhaps there are some lessons here. The centre was planned before the slump and the decision to push ahead with it's building even during a time of rising unemployment and a devaluing of the currency - at one point the Krona lost 80% of its value - was controversial to say the least. But as Icelanders were faced with the need to reassess their own values and concerns (a process we in the UK may still have to face) it appears to have been a master stroke. Rich countries always believe that an ability to consume is a mark of prosperity - but Icelanders were forced to re prioritise and increasingly turned to culture and art, to look both for solutions and solace. It might break up the flat horizon of the seeming unlimited shoreline but the Harpa does stand as an optimistic symbol, attracting international musicians and audiences to Reykjavik. <br />
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At nightfall the Imagine Peace Beam shoots up vertically from the tiny island of Videy in the bay. Designed by Yoko Ono, it's lit every year on John Lennon's birthday 9th October and shines heavenward until December 8th, the day of his assassination. Lennon never visited Iceland, but Yoko chose to base the installation here because of the countries position on the tectonic fault line between Europe and America. It makes a powerful statement in the unpolluted night sky.<br />
.Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-69730198219758708432012-10-29T01:43:00.000-07:002012-11-17T09:11:48.946-08:00A Nordic Saga.<br />
The second day of workshops and a chance to explore the role of actor/ teacher in Drama based work. Often in Applied Theatre work the relationship between the stage and auditorium is blurred. Boal uses the term Spect-ACTING for the dual role of participants in an interactive event. With the Joker being the conduit between the world of the play and the real world. In a Drama in Education session the teacher themselves will very often act as the guide.<br />
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Increasingly I've been interested in looking at what performative skills are needed to be an effective actor in work like this and, more importantly, how can we train you actor/facilitators to be good at it.<br />
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Many practitioners will argue that charisma is at the root and as such cannot be taught. You either have the personality for it or not. In this sense does being a good teacher or a good actor or a good facilitator rely on talent?<br />
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We began the session by using an old teacher in role narrative borrowed from some of Jon Neelands and Dorothy Heathcote's early work. I played Beowulf - a role I've taken on in many workshops at St Mary's, but never in such a Nordic setting.<br />
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The work begins with me welcoming my warrior brothers and sisters from the four corners of the kingdom. I explain that I have called them to the great hall because I have received word from my cousin the King of Denmark that the evil monster Grendel has been attacking Danish villages, raising the buildings to the ground, killing the citizens and taking the children into slavery.<br />
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Although there are normally initial giggles the group are quickly into the story, at my prompting reminding each other of former exploits and debating how best to defeat Grendel. I ask them if they are resolved to fight and, on this occasion, receive unanimous backing.<br />
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The students are split into four tribes representing the North, South, East and West and each is invited to devise a task or game that will teach us something about the culture of the region they come from and help us train in preparation for the challenge ahead.<br />
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Maria led the warriors of the north with a very energetic game which needed quick reactions. She explained that the special quality of the the light in the North meant that people from that region are renowned for the clarity of their vision, often over large distances. They are a voyaging people, who have built up their wealth by looking beyond the immediate horizon to trade with other lands.<br />
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Luka introduced the warriors form the south with a counting exercise. The rest of us noticed that it was tough to play the game if you thought too much about what you were doing and Luka confirmed that the people of the South lived life in a very fluid and relaxed way, not worrying too much. Many great musicians had come from this part of the Kingdom.<br />
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Vigdis greeted us as the Queen of the West with a boisterous game of chase, where warriors had to work together to keep a monster from catching his prey. She explained the rugged, direct nature of the West, a land of mountains, where people worked hard and played hard. It was common for the people from this region to share the little they have with each other. Everybody in the West works on the land and understands how important it is to cultivate and respect it. They are a fiercely loyal people.<br />
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Rakel introduced the Eastern warriors with a medative exercise designed to improve our attentiveness and watchfulness. Hers are a spiritual people who often live in solitude. Stone is a vital part of this culture. They build their houses from it, create jewellery, ornamentation and furniture from it and worship at the quarry.<br />
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We're only about half an hour in, but already the group are generating a huge amount of material to take forward. <br />
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We run several more improvisational tasks. I ask each warrior to return home and explain to their loved ones the nature of the task ahead. The short scenes that this generates are very moving. Maria has to ask permission from Thora, who is the Queen of the North, and then explain to her teenage daughter Thorinna that she will be away from her for many years and may not return at all.<br />
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Luka finds it impossible to say goodbye, tries to write a song about how he feels, fails and ends up getting drunk with his friends. Vigdis throws a big party and tells the rest of the warriors in the West that they should live the evening as though it were their last whilst Rakel takes her sister Alda to the furthest quarry in the East and performs a self mutilation ritual where she sacrifices her right eye for an all seeing stone that will, she believes, act as a powerful charm to protect her from danger. Alda in a sacrificial ritual of her own cuts off her left hand and replaces it with a glove full of sacred stones. This she assures us will give her the strength to defeat Grendel.<br />
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Although we break for coffee, the group are reluctant to come out of role and so the work continues. <br />
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in the main studio the warriors from the North and East begin using all available furniture to build a beautiful boat. Thora finds a piece of drain pipe and fixes it to the bow. This she explains will be used to call up the sea goddesses who can help to calm storms.<br />
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In the kitchen the warriors of the West and South prepare the drinks whilst working together on a song for us to sing on our voyage.<br />
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With the washing up in the sink, we're on our way again. The song works beautifully as a round with each warrior given a separate phrase to sing, one that most befits the job they've been allocated to on the ship we soon reach Denmark.<br />
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The final part of the workshop sees the group split in two. The warriors of the North and West form a tableau of the great battle verses Grendel. The actors who have played warriors from the East and South time traveller forward to the twenty first century. They are now archaeologists who have uncovered the great hall of Beowulf. Much in the hall has been destroyed by time, but carefully preserved high on one wall are is the outline of this magnificent painting. They quickly decide to call a press conference and interpret their findings to the world.<br />
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We're been working now for three hours and it seems an opportune place to bring the story to an end. We talk a little about the joy of the work, the constant active creativity. Svala is interested in the focus I provide stepping in and out of the main role. I point out that all of them have done exactly the same. At once fully committed to the action and fully aware of the audience. <br />
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This is the essence of the Applied Theatre actor. There is a script and a performance to deliver which this should be done with as much conviction and belief as possible. This is the same as for the actor playing Hamlet at the National. But alongside this, in the course of the Applied Theatre play's action, a thousand other small improvisational interactions might occur with the audience, shaping and deciding on the action and ultimately the narrative. This is the same for the teacher in the classroom encouraging questions and observations on the topics presented.<br />
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Applied Theatre actors merge these two roles effortlessly, knowing when to push the action on and when to allow the sect-ACTORS the opportunity to make a change.<br />
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<br />Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-23310411787801925362012-10-28T01:44:00.000-07:002012-11-15T14:48:27.439-08:00Images of Theatre and Education.<br />
Some things in Iceland stay. The slight smell of sulphur and the scolding geothermic temperatures of the shower. Water straight from the furnaces of middle earth.<br />
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Our first session was early this afternoon at the Academy. We're working with 12 artists, actors, musicians and educators throughout the week. We began with some image work just to get used to working together.<br />
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Sculpting is a brilliant way to get a group going, partly because it allows everybody to realise they have a unique perspective on the world. In pairs one person imagines themselves to be a great artist, the other a lump of clay. (We swap these roles - after all sometimes artists lose their powers and it's always possible fro clay to aspire to something more creative.)<br />
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Without talking the great artist gently manipulates the clay into a three dimensional image. The pairs all work at the same time and so in a few minutes a collection of sculptures fill the room. <br />
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The artists are then encouraged to tour this quickly assembled exhibition commenting on similarities and differences. <br />
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I always begin by asking the artists to create a sculpture called 'Mother.' In mixed groups this quickly provokes conversations about gender and culture. Within half an hour we're working and on our way. <br />
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The pairs swap roles and creating a complimentary (or occasionally conflicting) image called 'Father' these two images are then 'staged' in relief to each other. The discussion begins to develop an aesthetic dimension. A story is beginning.<br />
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From here I decided to repeat the exercise using creating images for 'Education' and 'Theatre.' Again the pairs created a composite image by deciding how to stage the two images in the same space. The results were fascinating.<br />
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Luka and Rakel are first to go. In their image Education is slumped asleep against a wall. Theatre stands in front, feet firmly rooted on the ground, but she bends over and reaches between her legs reaching backwards to take Education's hand.<br />
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The conversation focuses on who is pulling who. Is theatre trying to raise education from its slumber by pulling it through her legs. Or is it education that, tired of holding hands with theatre has slumped onto the floor, pulling her with him. The complication of two such disparate images still holding hands gave another cause for reflection.<br />
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Next up Olof and Savala. Olof's 'theatre' was a figure on all fours, looking up and begging at the feet of Savala's 'education.' Education seemed to be offering Theatre a coin. Both characters had their heads cocked to one side and were smiling. Most of the group saw an element of the fool in the theatre image, a sense of self-deprecation of playing rather than being low status. Education on the other hand was seen as self confident and patronising, relating to theatre as a curiosity rather than a friend. We felt that once the image dissolved the two elements would not stay in touch.<br />
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The third image from Vigdis M. and Tora saw the images stand next to each other, facing outwards towards the audience. Tora's 'theatre' stood as neutrally as possible, waiting for us to project onto her. Vigdis' 'education' sat cross legged, looking up from an open book with an expression of shocked amazement - perhaps at what she'd discovered. We couldn't help but feel, because of their relationship to us that both were performing for us.<br />
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The fourth image was created by Maria and Edna. Maria's 'theatre' used a shawl to cover half her face. The material draped down the length of her body, making a costumed disguise. The other half of her took up a triumphant and coquettish pose, weight on hip, hand extended and flirtatious smile. The duality was clear to us all. Edna's 'education' stood behind, again reading a book, but this time self absorbed, somewhere between indifferent to and bored by Theatre's charms. Some in the group saw a master/ servant relationship between the two with Theatre leading and Education following behind. When looked at like this the image reminded me of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.<br />
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The fifth image saw Alda's 'education' in clear opposition to Torinna's 'theatre.' They stood facing each other, upper bodies leaning in slightly, as if in combat. They chose a place in the room, where the harsh rays of the now fast approaching Reykjavik sunset crossed their stage, which added an epic feeling to the work. Education stood taut and tense, fist raised high above her head, perhaps looking to land a blow, perhaps merely as a triumphant gesture. Theatre, by contrast, seemed defensive, one hand on her heart, one on her head as if to indicate the two most essential parts of her being.<br />
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Vigdis noticed how hard it was for 'education' to stay still in the image. The tension Alda was forcing her body into made her shake slightly and it was a real struggle to keep such an assertive form. Theatre, although on first appearance the more passive of the two, seemed in many ways more at ease with herself.<br />
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The final image saw Vigdis G's 'education' strangle Margaret's 'theatre' in another clear battle. Theatre looked out helplessly as education seemed to go in for the kill.<br />
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I was fascinated by how, overall, the group saw education, as a stifler of the arts rather than an ally or conspirator. It was also interested to notice how much strength the group invested in their images of education. Time and time again theatre was seen as the victim. <br />
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These initial impressions, clear, creative and tangible give us an excellent base form which to further explore the connections and oppositions between the actor and the teacher.<br />
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<br />Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-75798774569885853962012-10-27T01:45:00.000-07:002012-11-15T12:23:24.761-08:00Solo to Oslo.<br />
I'm off to Iceland for a week to do some teaching at the <a href="http://english.lhi.is/">Iceland Arts Academy</a> in Reykjavik at the invitation of my old friend Vigdis Jakobsdottir. We're primarily going to be looking at the artist as educator and I'm hoping the five days of workshops will give us plenty of scope to explore the relationship between the two roles.<br />
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For some strange reason it was much cheaper to get to Iceland via Norway than take a direct flight which meant a painfully early start. The flight was simple enough and I was in Oslo in time for a spectacularly expensive lunch - £9 for a beer - in the transfer lounge.<br />
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It all felt a little surreal particularly when the former Man Utd and England full back Gary Neville came running by. A stocky figure, carrying a suit, shouting back in broad Mancunian to his companion to get a move on in order to get the plane back to Heathrow. What he was doing in Norway is anyone's guess. Scouting? Visiting former team mate Ole Gunar Solskjaer? Nobody seemed to notice him at all.<br />
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Soon enough I was airborne again and heading north west across the frozen ocean towards Reykjavik, coming through the clouds just as the southern shoreline came into view. <br />
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It's almost ten years since I was last here and Iceland has since then gone through the most spectacular of financial crashes. Vigdis and her husband Jakob were working in Brussels when bottom fell out, but they returned soon afterwards. I'm fascinated to see how the crash has effected life here.<br />
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I took the bus through the familiar lava field landscape into town where Vigdis and her daughter Julia met me at the station. It's great to see them again. <br />
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We ended the day in the old theatre next to the Tjornin in the centre of the old town where Jakob's band were crooning their way through nostalgic Icelandic hits of the sixties and seventies. They were one of seven or eight amateur bands of all ages, enjoying the warm appreciation of a crowd of 200 or so. And despite the much deserved ribbing of Jakob's spotless white jacket and shiny blue winkle pickers, it was all wonderfully open hearted.<br />
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We finally gave in at midnight, but the party continued until dawn.<br />
.Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-56747994136945638562012-10-19T07:39:00.000-07:002012-11-15T12:16:04.547-08:00Four Weeks in.<br />
We're four weeks into the semester and time seems to have rushed by. The first years seem, for the most part, to have settled in and there's some really promising work coming out from Levels 2 and 3.<br />
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I'm still finding my feet a little as Academic Director with each week bringing further challenges. I'm still in the honeymoon period, but it's feeling a bit like a race against time. One day, very soon I know I'll be expected to have more answers than questions. <br />
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The toughest part of the new job is getting used to not being so directly involved in the students' work. I hear of good things in dispatches now, rather than being in the meetings or rehearsal rooms myself. I'm really pleased that the second year Applied Theatre group have started a blog for their project, which, even if I can't be directly involved with I'll have some chance of staying in touch with.<br />
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Most of my new role is about looking forward and outwards, trying to plot a course for the Drama Programmes over the next few years, whilst raising our profile beyond the institution. It's less operational and more strategic. After five years of Programme Directing though it's taking a bit of effort to learn to let go of some of the nitty gritty, day to day problem solving. Ultimately it's a question of trust, though, and Kasia, Patsy, Matt, Michelle and of course Trevor make up a vastly experienced team. It's still delightful to catch someone in a corridor and hear them speak excitedly of how their work is going.<br />
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So to the future. The best way forward is, I think, to push for very high standards of practice and delivery from our current students, whilst doing everything we can to keep a buzz about the shows. Exciting, creative work attracts attention, builds reputations and enables us develop ever more interesting projects. I've always thought that successful cultures are built on the high demand of everybody operating within that culture.<br />
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In the short term I want to make sure that each student is aware of the expectations that the course has for them and feels secure within those expectations. If we can get that right then we'll be in a better place to create some wonderful theatre.<br />
.Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7124540190261980364.post-56668092113633587632012-10-18T15:20:00.000-07:002012-11-14T04:57:36.589-08:00Bread or Freedom,<br />
A fascinating talk at college this evening from Jeremy Ramsden, a professor of Nanotechnology at Cranfield University on the threat posed by the corporatism of Universities.<br />
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Jeremy suggests that the managerial structures, which every institution in the UK works within, are inimical to free and meaningful research and the need for Universities to maximise their income, leads to research projects increasingly being written in response to the stipulated criteria of the research councils. <br />
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This isn't just unfortunate, but on occasion highly dangerous, as the need to maximise income leads to the very real need to please the client. Unpopular, or unorthodox findings, might jeopardise an ongoing and lucrative arrangements. <br />
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The talk reminded me of Richard Bean's wonderful play on climate change and academic freedom - 'The Heretic' which played at the Royal Court last spring, where an academic whose research had convinced her that climate change had only a negligible impact on the natural world was censured by her management team who were tying up a big investment from an ethical, carbon neutral company. Bean's twist was clever as most in the audience were both conscientious liberals with a tendency to worry about the ozone layer and believers in the kind of academic freedom of expression represented by the main protagonist.<br />
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I recognise the problem, but find it hard to see a solution beyond dividing the HE sector into research and training. The growth in post-18 education has been broadly successful. More young people staying in education for longer does help reduce crime, create jobs, lengthen lives and so from a utilitarian societal perspective it's a good thing. This focus on training, however, has led to the very corporatism that Jeremy was talking about. As an academic I'm corporatised to deliver qualifications to students, who, in the process are corporatised to find employment in the market place. Apart from sounding like a mundane teadmill this all needs funding and a supportive administrative structure, which as Jeremy suggests, fixes working patterns and dictates the shape of everything from departments to ideas. <br />
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It's clear that very few undergraduates can pro-actively contribute to their tutor's research - unless of course that research is in them. Many academics, feel, even if they don't say, that the volume of students that they have to see each week, rather than aiding their research, simply gets in the way. Also the very reliance on an administrative culture means that many members of a Universities hierarchy can only demonstrate their ability to fulfil their management role by constantly requesting data from those members of staff in contact with students. A time consuming and ultimately pointless process. Transparency and accountability sound prudent, but a slavish insistance on their authority they can stop radical or free thinking teaching and research in its tracks.<br />
.Mark Griffinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00491253019879233562noreply@blogger.com0