The venue is booked (!)
Big thanks to Pamela Munt and the Bakehouse Theatre
Friday, October 23, 2009
New Tricks
On writing a new work:
Apparently putting just a small amount of creative energy into an idea can be transformative when it is given permission to grow. I began making little notes and observations in a note book in 2008 and creating in a new way without any anticipated public gaze got me through some dark days that year; allowed me in fact to channel certain frustrations into something else - producing some kind of starving bastard child that soon became a favourite son (if I can extend into metaphor without vomiting - apparently so).
And I have to acknowledge my Mum, Aunty Anne, friends like Max and Andy and most of all my sister Jennifer for offering sentiments like this:
Can you PLEASE start writing plays... you facebook status alone could make you the john hughes of the new generation.
Ah, sweet flattery! Makes every idea seem a good one. Such as:
Acting!
Sweet Heavens deciding to act again is such a guilty secret. It's like confessing you have a mid-life crisis to people.
In my defence the following flatterers helped affirm my decision with their comments while unaware (perhaps) of what was happenning:
Berynn Schwerdt calling me an actor among the company I directed in As Bees in Honey Drown
My Grandfather, Arthur Clegg, the old vaudevillian, who compared the last performance he saw of mine in 1999 to Pavarotti (hehe!)
Van Badham who asked me if I missed acting cos I was 'you know, good at it.'
Katrina Rautenberg working on Horrific Acts for Charity who said she wanted to see me act again.
Duncan Fellows and others I let the plans slip to early
And Melita Rowston for hilariously posting a note about the dream she had of me taking over the stage from a/n (imagined) cast I'd been fed up with and being really kind of good at it.
Going back further:
Helmut Bakaitis at the beginning of the year of Directing said I was acting my socks off in an exercise I thought I was phoning in; at the end of the year he wrote he hoped that one day I'd jump off a cliff (love).
Years before, Zoe Emmanuel grabbed me after a performance of mine and shook me and said "you are an actor". Wow.
I mean, ok, am I gonna start reading horoscopes into everything I hear? no. But all of this, coming as randomly as it did was encouraging.. and the fact that those comments lodged in my mind (among others) belies the pretense that I'm entirely done with stepping onstage. I'd be foolish to suggest this didn't quickly become attractive given I stopped cutting my hair some time ago. No doubt, while I like to see this as all generating from a light-bulb moment, the idea must, on some level, have seemed strong in the first place because it offered me a performance opportunity such as I'd forgotten myself hungry for.
In another cop-out, there's a degree to which I see performing one's own material as different to the process of acting. I'm considering this a performance, rather than an *acted* thing - if such distinctions (and let's say they exist) stand up in the light of day.
And I am still a director and determined to pursue that further. This is not a repudiation of that business, nor was it planned all along as I set myself up to direct.
I came to directing as a person holistically interested in theatre-making and this is an extension of that. Risky. Foolish - perhaps. But I hope re-investigating other forms of work will renew my understanding of all processes.
Hmm.. apologia blog? Enough with the excuses. If my certain vanity makes this appear to be nothing more than a vanity project, there are only two words I can offer in reply: Eat me.
Apparently putting just a small amount of creative energy into an idea can be transformative when it is given permission to grow. I began making little notes and observations in a note book in 2008 and creating in a new way without any anticipated public gaze got me through some dark days that year; allowed me in fact to channel certain frustrations into something else - producing some kind of starving bastard child that soon became a favourite son (if I can extend into metaphor without vomiting - apparently so).
And I have to acknowledge my Mum, Aunty Anne, friends like Max and Andy and most of all my sister Jennifer for offering sentiments like this:
Can you PLEASE start writing plays... you facebook status alone could make you the john hughes of the new generation.
Ah, sweet flattery! Makes every idea seem a good one. Such as:
Acting!
Sweet Heavens deciding to act again is such a guilty secret. It's like confessing you have a mid-life crisis to people.
In my defence the following flatterers helped affirm my decision with their comments while unaware (perhaps) of what was happenning:
Berynn Schwerdt calling me an actor among the company I directed in As Bees in Honey Drown
My Grandfather, Arthur Clegg, the old vaudevillian, who compared the last performance he saw of mine in 1999 to Pavarotti (hehe!)
Van Badham who asked me if I missed acting cos I was 'you know, good at it.'
Katrina Rautenberg working on Horrific Acts for Charity who said she wanted to see me act again.
Duncan Fellows and others I let the plans slip to early
And Melita Rowston for hilariously posting a note about the dream she had of me taking over the stage from a/n (imagined) cast I'd been fed up with and being really kind of good at it.
Going back further:
Helmut Bakaitis at the beginning of the year of Directing said I was acting my socks off in an exercise I thought I was phoning in; at the end of the year he wrote he hoped that one day I'd jump off a cliff (love).
Years before, Zoe Emmanuel grabbed me after a performance of mine and shook me and said "you are an actor". Wow.
I mean, ok, am I gonna start reading horoscopes into everything I hear? no. But all of this, coming as randomly as it did was encouraging.. and the fact that those comments lodged in my mind (among others) belies the pretense that I'm entirely done with stepping onstage. I'd be foolish to suggest this didn't quickly become attractive given I stopped cutting my hair some time ago. No doubt, while I like to see this as all generating from a light-bulb moment, the idea must, on some level, have seemed strong in the first place because it offered me a performance opportunity such as I'd forgotten myself hungry for.
In another cop-out, there's a degree to which I see performing one's own material as different to the process of acting. I'm considering this a performance, rather than an *acted* thing - if such distinctions (and let's say they exist) stand up in the light of day.
And I am still a director and determined to pursue that further. This is not a repudiation of that business, nor was it planned all along as I set myself up to direct.
I came to directing as a person holistically interested in theatre-making and this is an extension of that. Risky. Foolish - perhaps. But I hope re-investigating other forms of work will renew my understanding of all processes.
Hmm.. apologia blog? Enough with the excuses. If my certain vanity makes this appear to be nothing more than a vanity project, there are only two words I can offer in reply: Eat me.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Getting Drafted (rhymes with?)
SO, the other week I completed draft 1 (and within that draft, many redraftings)...
Why no blogging about that process? First, writing about the writing is anathema to the actual writing. Second, this began as an idea that I may have wished to bury, rather than reveal. It turns out I am fired up about putting it on.
The process in a nutshell: Much of the play I wrote over two visits to my family shack on the cliff between Austinmer and Thirroul (Facebook friends of the artist can see more here) where, apart from the joyous air and the sound of the sea I HAVE NO INTERNET connection.
Then, as my laptop has developed funny malfunctions like no space-bar or delete key (even now I am pasting spaces, it is time for a repair!) I printed what I had and stuck it in a scrapbook and hand-wrote around the sections I already had (I could and did have this book on hand anywhere and everywhere to catch moments of inspiration - when I had formerly done this with text-message drafts..). It was useful and fun to write the old-fashioned way and was also a tactic I remember Mr Chris Mead recommending. Certainly more practical when it comes to writing in windswept locations for extra inspiration..
Finally, I typed almost the whole thing out from beginning to end. Celebrating with a glass of wine I excitedly read aloud and checked over the whole thing. PHEW! It seemed good at that point but I was all drunk in the afterglow of achievement (and, well, the wine).
NEXT: I have sent it to some trusted friends for their feedback and focused on where and when and how I will stage it next year. Taking a welcome break from creating and an important pause to get fresh perspective on it.
Looking forward to re-reading and wondering what the hell I was thinking..
Why no blogging about that process? First, writing about the writing is anathema to the actual writing. Second, this began as an idea that I may have wished to bury, rather than reveal. It turns out I am fired up about putting it on.
The process in a nutshell: Much of the play I wrote over two visits to my family shack on the cliff between Austinmer and Thirroul (Facebook friends of the artist can see more here) where, apart from the joyous air and the sound of the sea I HAVE NO INTERNET connection.
Then, as my laptop has developed funny malfunctions like no space-bar or delete key (even now I am pasting spaces, it is time for a repair!) I printed what I had and stuck it in a scrapbook and hand-wrote around the sections I already had (I could and did have this book on hand anywhere and everywhere to catch moments of inspiration - when I had formerly done this with text-message drafts..). It was useful and fun to write the old-fashioned way and was also a tactic I remember Mr Chris Mead recommending. Certainly more practical when it comes to writing in windswept locations for extra inspiration..
Finally, I typed almost the whole thing out from beginning to end. Celebrating with a glass of wine I excitedly read aloud and checked over the whole thing. PHEW! It seemed good at that point but I was all drunk in the afterglow of achievement (and, well, the wine).
NEXT: I have sent it to some trusted friends for their feedback and focused on where and when and how I will stage it next year. Taking a welcome break from creating and an important pause to get fresh perspective on it.
Looking forward to re-reading and wondering what the hell I was thinking..
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