Showing posts with label live art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label live art. Show all posts

Sunday, 13 June 2010

The Edge of Chaos

Just come back from the Edge of Chaos live art event in Exmouth in Manor Gardens, and what an amazing afternoon it was. After last summer's event (at the Voodoo Lounge) I remember thinking it must have been some kind of dream (as written up in a Performance blog), and thinking - it's not likely I'll get a gig like that again... but happily, I was wrong, and Ric White the curator of the Edge of Chaos project asked me to participate in the latest event, this time not only with musicians and painters and dancers, but another poet as well. I said yes at once (and again, overworked when June came, arrived dazed, but soon woke up!).
The other poet was James Turner, popular and witty poet, author of 'Forgeries' (available from Sam Smith's Original Plus publishing house) and experienced improvisor with Children of the Drone (some of whom also participated in the event). The weather was great, the outdoor stage shady, lots of folks enjoying the gardens, and then...the dancers didn't turn up. But we started regardless, and, having nearly joined in with the dancers last time, while I had drawn a deal of inspiration from them, this time I felt I had to step into the breach (and in the imaginary parallel universe so many artists have recourse to, am a dancer as well as a visual artist). We started with the music first, and the painters got going, one with a big blue block, another with a circle; I as last time, had been given a projector on which to write words for the backdrop screen (which didn't show up as much in daylight against glass, but was more visible whenever it clouded over) and started writing whenever the music made or paint strokes evoked a thought or impression. Squiggles, symbols and words echoed the tempo or mood, and when it seemed right, I came out from the desk, grabbed the microphone and whispered or shouted or simply spoke into it, moving about the stage.
James alternated between percussive noise - he had some wonderful gear, like a gong, that he played using a bucket (very effective), something that sounded like the Clangers, and a variety of other instruments - and speech. He chose poems that went with the music, and made rhythm out of the interface between them. At times, we spoke responding one to the other, me responding to a line from him, or taking up a theme, and him changing the emphasis of the next line or perhaps choosing another in response. It seemed to work really well - a mixture of thinking on one's feet, and creating a dynamic, yet also oddly relaxed and often bordering or crossing into the gently comic. I danced from time to time, caught up in the sound and colour as if in some altered state (no, no chemicals or herbs were involved!) and even got a scarf to wave about at one point (though I wasn't quite sure about it in retrospect). There was some wonderful cello and keyboards, and Ric is something of a master on the sax, the drums wove things together, and of the paintings, all complemented each other really well. And if I had worried about having no dancers to bounce off, it seemed that doing a 'duet' (as someone called it afterwards) with James and not worrying about getting in other's way, more than made up for it.

There were three sessions, and it seemed that quite a number of the picnickers in the park were looking our way and listening. At one point (thinking of Kandinsky and Kostelanetz) I wondered - either everyone's au fait with experimentalism, or very relaxed, or we will at some point be lynched...one man, burly, came up at one point and said 'Scuse my asking, but what was that all about?' and it turned out he was a musician himself. One of the musicians got four children joining in enthusiastically with percussion for a while at one point, inspired by their responding to it, which was good, and great to see it reaching out to bring in the viewers as participants. Another really nice response was when, after the last one, a group of students (from Bicton College! as it happened, who were doing Environmental Education, the course that sounds like it's replaced the old Environmental Arts & Crafts course which many of the Collective went on) who had been sitting listening, applauded and shouted 'more!' several times, but everyone needed to pack up and go home, so they ended chanting as we thanked them for being such sports. All in all a wonderful afternoon. The others said they had really liked what I'd done, and what James had done, how it had held together, which I was really glad about, and we agreed that the whole thing had that strange hypnotic beyond-self, caught-up-in-others/mediums sensation that was so special and had brought us all there...like stepping up to the next level... We thanked Ric for putting it all together and bringing us all together, and then it was time to step off the cloud and onto the grass...

And we even got some video of parts of it. HUGE thanks to Ric White, for putting it all together, and to James Turner and all the other artists for making such a fantastic happening.

Edge of Chaos;

Saturday, 1 August 2009

The Grass is Always Greener

You learn something new every day. A platitude yes, but one of the best writer's blogs on the web is Hope Clark's, and she's full of words of wisdom that sound familiar and common sense...but you read them thinking - but how often have I acted on that principle which it is so obvious that I should act upon? But back to the point. I met up, last weekend, being in London for a brief break (!) with a good friend and his partner, a multimedia artist, producer, curator, live artist and video maker. We got talking about art/work related stuff...and only stopped when the clock chimed eleven meaning they had to catch the train home! Apart from being a really interesting artist who's into many live art and related things and artists that we have in common, from the wonderful Merce Cunningham who sadly died this last week, to various theatre companies and allsorts of experimental stuff, she also is 'living a life of art'. Earlier in the year, she and he turned their flat upside down and inside out, shifting all their own stuff out, papering chairs white, you name it, until the entire space was an installation and no longer a living space. Then it was videoed, and put on her website, and people came to view the space as one would an open studio event. She showed me the video and it looked great - one could see what a lot of work it must have been. She also finished a residency recently in Manchester, works for the Live Art Development Agency, is on a mentoring scheme which means she gets to meet folks working for the Royal Opera House and Royal Ballet... I sighed, telling her of my one chance this year to do something really experimental at Richard White's Edge of Chaos (written about on the Performance Ephemera blog), and admitted it was easier to concentrate on things that brought money in like the newsletter, storytelling, and admin for the Collective... To my surprise, she agreed with me, saying she knew just what I meant. It turned out that she didn't especially want to be a producer or curator, organizing exhibits, making snowstorms, or working in set design for a theatre company - in fact, she'd made a decision to try and make a break from it, for the very simple reason that she, as an artist, had not enough time to create her own art while doing that kind of work. And of course that meant sporadic opportunities, eking out previous earnings while waiting and applying for the next thing, and all the insecurity that goes with it. So there was I thinking it must be marvellous to do all this stuff, - set design! curating! wow. But there was she wanting to do more multimedia performance installation and video work...which I understood completely. When I thought about it, it gave me an insight into why people sometimes say - an Editor! wow. Or administrating for an arts Collective! hey. To me, they are things which must be done because writing and performing just don't provide enough consistent incomings.
  But of course, one must be grateful to do something that is at least related to what one most cares about. For instance, working as a willow workshop assistant for National Play Day may not be creating live art theatre, but hey, it pays the bills and I get to work with the other members of the Collective, a really great bunch. As for the Play Day itself...that'll have to be the next blog.............