Here's the video I edited this evening of all those beat experiments my research group did. We'll be showing it as part of our conference presentation. Never mind me--the real star of this is my friend Lisa, who is pretty much a genius.
If you're lucky, someday I'll explain what this is all about.
Showing posts with label research group. Show all posts
Showing posts with label research group. Show all posts
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
"...all them birds and predators just take from the land/But the beaver always gives a dam"
The title of this entry comes from the Canadian-based band The Arrogant Worms' song, We Are The Beaver. I use it as a nod to my oldest friend, Bobby, who will figure a little in this entry. (That's him there to the left of me, sitting between the paws of the lion.)
The Familie Floez ended up being a good time, with a cast of the highest stamina--four performers probably each tripled (at least) in the parts they were playing, but I didn't know this till the curtain call when there was just a quartet bowing on stage. Really great work, though I think they could have shaved about twenty minutes off. But still very enjoyable.
Seeing this show from the mid-to-rear section of the theater however, once again reminded me: I need to buy glasses. Or price Lasik in this country. Or consider contacts. Something. Nearsightedness isn't the worst problem in the world, but squinting through a theatrical performance or movie, or not being able to recognize your friends at a certain distance gets annoying after a while. And coming up on just over a year without any vision aid, I think the tolerance of this state has just past it's peak. I also have this theory that your physical vision plays upon your psychological vision--if you can only see the things right in front of you, you can't begin to consider the distant or not-so-distant future clearly. That may be a lot of poppycock, but it's my philosophy, not yours, so I'll subscribe to my own personal nonsense as much as I like thank you very much. But in any regard, they'd be useful, at least in so much that I wouldn't furrow my brow for an entire evening--at least not just to see the play.
My research group's last meeting on Thursday left us at a good place. I brought up my feelings of detachment for the subject, and Ronan suggested we all continue to do our own personal research about things we liked, and then when we were done, try to connect them in terms of interior rhythms. This may be a little foolhardy, but it's definitely worth a shot, and will at least keep the work interesting for us all. We met with two of our tutors and introduced this idea, and one of them suggested a rather mad, spontaneous, beatnik-ish exercise to try, which really excites me. I'll report back with more details and with findings once it's completed.
Our research groups have been put together into a bunch of larger groups for our "Stage Two Practice." Stage Two Practice will basically take the place of the small labs from last term, with one big long one. We have a set ensemble (mine consists of ten people, the largest has around thirteen or so) and will have to work with this group for the whole of the term, generating something to be shown at the end. It has been stressed to us that we don't have to present a polished/finished performance; moments, pieces, or scenes will do for our final presentation. However my group, now complete with a practitioner from the MA Writing course, Chad (I love him, he is awesome--AND American! w00t!), has decided to aim for a complete work, or at least something with a coherent storyline. All that abstract stuff from last term will hopefully fuel our creativity, but enough of the disjointedness, and let's create a narrative, already, please? At our first rehearsal/meeting, we each shared a story we knew, that had left an impression on us. I selected "The Soldier and Death," an old Russian folk tale, and still my favorite episode of Jim Henson's The Storyteller. Other contributions were: The Boy Who Kicked Pigs; the work of Matt Haig, specifically his one sentence stories; Sleeping Beauty; and Three Men in a Boat. The next day we had an outing to the Whole Foods down by High Street Kennsington to people watch. To focus our minds a little, Chad provided us each with the same quotation to consider as we observed people around the store:
"What matters, therefore, is not the meaning of life in general, but rather the specific meaning of a person's life at a given moment." --Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning*
We shared our findings over lunch in their cafe (I had a super lame burrito). The next day we were meant to bring in stimulus for the designers in the group--scenographer Caitlin, and sound designer James. We decided that we would keep what we had talked about during lunch and the quotation in mind while selecting what to bring in. I ended up with the following:
- A very sexy dress
- A shoulder badge my great-uncle wore when parachuting into Cuba during the Bay of Pigs
- A broken necklace I used to wear
- "Hear My Song, Violetta" by Glenn Miller's Orchestra
- "H in New England" by Max Richter
I know there's a lot of grouping, and then dispersion, and then re-grouping, and then re-dispersion, but right now the ensemble is still looking for a central idea. When we have a unified thought, I'm sure this will by and large end, since we'll all be working with one central focus. But right now, we're still in that generating head space, so, there you go.
Caitlin and I were paired up, and worked a bit over the weekend on this last assignment. We had a few pictures for our stimulus, but the one we most responded to was of a teddy bear faced down on top of a bunch of other trash in a dumpster. Lisa had found it randomly on some one's flickr account. To try to engage more fully with the image, or to just use that as the excuse to bring him out and about, I brought my small stuffed animal, Bobby Beaver, to our meetings. Bobby is just over twenty years old, having been a Christmas gift from many years back. I had not anticipated bringing him along to England (we've lived apart all through college, and for most of my time in New York post college), but upon my mother's insistence, he came along. And how fortuitous that he did. I've been trying to get him into a performance piece since last term when I thought I could fit him into my solo presentation, but to no avail.
Here he is, hard at work during a devising meeting:
Look how happy he is: "I love collaborative theatre!"And here, feeding that damn caffeine addiction of his:
"I've sold my soul to Starbucks..."Whether or not Bobby will end up in our final piece of dra-ma remains to be seen, but he's a nice artifact to revisit and is, I think, partially responsible for actualizing part of our stimulus for what we'll be presenting tomorrow. I like to think so, anyway. And so does he.
In other news, I've been helping my friend Ariana with a piece of theatre she's currently creating about immigration, assimilation, and cultural identity. The picture below is from an exercise she held for myself and the other artist assisting her, our friend and classmate Loukia. I had to get in front of Loukia at any cost, but whenever I did she'd change her facing, thus putting me behind her. Finally, I got in front of her and grabbed her around her knees in one last desperate attempt to win the game. I did, but cracked up in the process. I corpse like anything, it's so bad.
Someday I'll be a professional. But not today.
The Space (in) Between has also been doing a little better, with some new blood in it this past week, and some really interesting conversation to go along with the presentations and feedback. I get really excited during these meetings--there's no crazy pressure to compose something since things aren't assigned, but you're still encouraged to be creative and say "yes." I like that environment, and I'm happy to contribute and help create it.
That's basically it, but before I go, here's an overview of what I'm doing this coming week:
- Seeing a friend's stand-up show
- Going to a lecture on plagiarism
- Attending a D&D satellite event at SHUNT
- Participating in a day long phenomenology workshop
- Hanging out, drinking, and enjoying a whole night long production of The Medea (from midnight to 7AM, oh yes).
- Drinking more coffee
- Participating in more theatrical brilliance
*(Side Note: When I first read this quotation, I felt I recognized the title and the author from somewhere. While writing this entry, I suddenly realized I did a report on this book in the 11th grade for my Holocaust and Humanity class. That being said, I must admit to you: I have never read this book.)
Monday, January 19, 2009
Miss me?
I thought you might have.
I know, I know--I've been away. My apologies. I've been super busy since I got back, so let me give you the general run down, and I'll plod through specifics later.
Saturday, 10 January:
I land around 6AM--forty-five minutes before scheduled to do so--in Heathrow airport to light flurries and the sound of a screaming child (if I've learned anything from my last two trans-Atlantic flights it's that all children should only be permitted to travel by boat). I pick up my luggage, ride the tube to my halls, drop off my bags, get a shower in, go for coffee, and then head out to the first day of Devoted and Disgruntled. While there, I run into the costume designer from my senior year show in college--Amazing! Interesting discussions ensue. (I will actually do an entry on this, so fret not the lack of details herein.) I go home early from the event and go to sleep, as I'd been up for about 30 hours straight<--I cannot sleep on planes, especially when Braveheart or On the Waterfront is offered as entertainment.
(York Hall, set up for Devoted and Disgruntled goodness.)
Sunday, 11 January:
More D&D, including a session about doing theatre in elderly homes, which brought back fond memories of this book.
Monday, 12 January:
Last session of D&D in the morning, and then off to school, where I saw The Five Obstructions and The Perfect Human, to help put into perspective a future speaker's topic of discussion. Good movies, and I recommend you definitely check out Five Obstructions if you are into the film making process. And if you find the time, scroll down and watch The Perfect Human--it is on this very blog!
Tuesday, 13 January:
Class consisted of gathering with the other MA courses at Central and sitting through presenter after presenter, discussing topics they had spent time researching. We are doing major research projects ourselves this term (to take place of our weekly lab work), so this whole week of speakers, workshops and the like were meant to give us a framework of understanding what it is we're meant to do. Some of it was useful. Some of it wasn't. It's amazing how boring some people can make theatre when they're reading a paper they wrote about it, after they've spent fifteen minutes really engaging you while they set up their discussion. It's kind of a shame, really.
Best part of the day was when my friend Caitlin gave me a necklace with a Dalek charm on it. For those who don't know (and I am guessing many of you do not), Daleks are the greatest adversaries of the Doctor (Dr. Who, people: that doctor). Caitlin and I love Dr. Who, though it must be admitted the reason rests almost solely (if not entirely) on David Tennant. But we're fine with that.
I swear to God I'm not a geek.
Wednesday, 14 January:
First Wednesday back at Swiss Cottage meant the return of the greatest coffee I have ever found in my life. Jason is the man who runs the coffee stand in the farmer's market we have in front of school on Wednesday and Friday, and besides having great taste in books (he loaned me a Fante volume that I really need to finish...someday...), his coffee is impeccable. Seriously. I would not kid about coffee.
We met in the afternoon with the tutor who will be leading us through our research this term (and incidentally will be filling in for the performer's movement tutor while our course leader is off doing research on the history of movement directors) to present our topics. Each group had five minutes, after we'd all taken an hour to compose our presentation according to a graph model that was given to us. In research, it seems, people are very much fond of graphs, charts etc. It makes a person feel official, and it's fun to decide what color to make different parts of a pie chart showing percentages. The most fun part of the actual presentations for me was chiming out, "BONG!" at the five minute mark--Heidi was timekeeper, and a little sick, so I stepped in to BONG when the tutor reprimanded her for not projecting enough. A silly thing, to be sure, but it caused me much joy to participate in such a way, bringing about the full realization of the sneaking suspicion I'd had all week and month previous: I don't want to be an academic, and research for the most part bores me. But doing research is part of what makes this a master's program. Uh oh. This may become an "issue." We shall see.
Afterwards, I went to the first evening of our MA-ATP Speaker Series. The dramaturgs have been commissioned to bring in theatrical practitioners to speak (duh) about their jobs in the theatre today. That evening, we had as our guest Christopher Campbell, a very nice, interesting, and engaging man, who spoke to us about his job as Deputy Literary Manager for the National Theatre. No small fish here. He spoke about play selection, actor requirements when plays are selected for them, playwright insecurities, and why the National puts on so little new work--and it's not because every play they get is shit, either. It was a very enjoyable talk, and I look forward to more in the future.
On the way out of school to go grab dinner before Slumdog Millionaire that evening with friends, myself, David (dramaturg student who brought in Campbell), Campbell and my friend Poppy ended up in the lift together. The doors closed, and suddenly there was a mighty "THU-THUNK!!!" We had dropped a little, and then gotten stuck in between floors. The fire brigade had to come and get us out! Luckily it didn't take too long, and the company was very pleasant. David had given Campbell a bottle of whiskey as a gift for coming, and I kept joking her should open it up.
Caught Slumdog Millionaire, as already stated above, and may have found an affordable gym with a pool right by school. Very exciting.
Thursday 15 January:
I skived off ("played hooky"). I wish I hadn't because there were a couple workshops I heard about later that sounded interesting, but the sleep was very precious. I also had a really nice jog, and somehow ended up at King's Cross. Thought about checking for Platform 9 3/4, but decided to save it for another day. Also came to the realization that jogging in London is a near futile venture if you're not in a park: the sidewalks are WAY too narrow, and people seem confused/put out/ignorant of the concept of MOVING OUT OF THE WAY of the jogger who is going for time. Goodess sakes, people. It's almost as bad as people who smoke while walking, but never enact the common courtesy to move the cigarette out of the way when another person passes by closest to the hand holding said cigarette. I guess no one gets blinded by smoke, ash, or otherwise when room isn't made on the sidewalk, and surely no first degree burns are earned, but still: it sucks.
When I got home, I bought an impromptu ticket to a show for Friday night.
Friday 16 January:
More coffee. I love you, Jason.
Went to school to attend a function a classmate and I are trying to run every Friday called "The Space In Between." Basically, it's a big cross-sharing space for the different strands to come together and show off to each other what they're learned, what they already know, what they're interested in exploring. The hope is that out of these sharing sessions people will be able to find other students who are interested in investigating/developing the same kind of work, which would maybe lead to a collaboration for festival work. I should explain: during third term, our course puts on a festival of original work. A lot of the more noteworthy companies/practitioners that came out of this program moved their festival piece to Edinburgh the same year they were finishing their dissertation, so it's possible what we do here could lead to greater things. The sharing sessions would also hopefully be a place to showcase developing work for feedback, or to derive inspiration about your own work from what other people are bringing in. I thought it was a little ambitious to start off the first week back with a session, but I showed up with a Viola Spolin book in hand, ready to play.
I was the only one there.
I made use of the time by perusing the Spolin text (thank goodness I had brought Theatre Games for the Lone Actor<--I had a sneaking suspicion this was going to happen) and making a list of the things I had learned about living a theatrical life, in case, of course, I am ever called to give such advice. It's quite the list, I assure you. In any case, we hope that this week's SIB is more successful. We can only hope.
When I got home from school, I had a surprise package in the mail. My friend Logan had sent me Battlestar Galactica replica dog tags for none other than Kara Thrace! It came on a perfect day, as BSG premiered in the states that night. I did my part by honouring the occasion and wearing the dog tags to the theatre that night.
(Two science fiction accessory pieces in one week, is pretty geeky, I guess...
But they were gifts!)
The London International Mime Festival is running till the 25th, and Friday night was the first show I caught. I saw Seeking Oedipus by Theatre of Silence Ex Machina at the Southbank Centre. It was a pretty solid show, and I enjoyed the physicality. But the most striking thing about the piece was this HUGE inclined plane that made up most of the set. You really appreciated how athletic the performers had to be to work on that--they were running, jumping, leaping, climbing, and sliding all over that thing. And then at one point Oedipus walked up the rake backwards very slowly. His quads must have killed him. What was nice about the actual narrative of the story was that they basically told you all of the exposition covered in Oedipus as the stage action. There was no "mime chorus," though that phrase conjures an interesting image. The actor playing Laius was by far my favorite. He was also the hottest. (Whatever helps...)
Saturday 17 January:
Met with my research group around the corner from my halls at the Welcome Collection in the morning (more about our topic of research and methods at a later date), and then heading home to watch the premiere episode of BSG I had downloaded from iTunes. (Holy Frak!) Then I wandered down to the BFI to catch part of a program of Charlie Chaplin's early films. The double-reel contained Pay Day and The Pilgrim, and the event started by showing the audience some old footage of when Chaplin first came back to the UK from the states--throngs of people at Waterloo, crowds that really wouldn't exist in that size or clamour again until the Beatles. It was wonderful, and seeing the films was a wonderful compliment to the mime/clown activities of the festival as well.
Sunday 18 January:
I slept. I needed it. And read Othello. I realize I've been neglecting Shakespeare for a while now, and that has to stop. So I promised myself that every Sunday I would read one of his plays that I hadn't read yet--and no, having seen a performance doesn't count. Next week: King Lear.
And that's all for right now. Tomorrow a lot of the North American Stronghold heads out to a bar on Leicester Square to watch the Inauguration. I'll let you know how that goes, and I promise to try to be more diligent about updating you guys about my life happenings. I promise to try. I promise.
I know, I know--I've been away. My apologies. I've been super busy since I got back, so let me give you the general run down, and I'll plod through specifics later.
Saturday, 10 January:
I land around 6AM--forty-five minutes before scheduled to do so--in Heathrow airport to light flurries and the sound of a screaming child (if I've learned anything from my last two trans-Atlantic flights it's that all children should only be permitted to travel by boat). I pick up my luggage, ride the tube to my halls, drop off my bags, get a shower in, go for coffee, and then head out to the first day of Devoted and Disgruntled. While there, I run into the costume designer from my senior year show in college--Amazing! Interesting discussions ensue. (I will actually do an entry on this, so fret not the lack of details herein.) I go home early from the event and go to sleep, as I'd been up for about 30 hours straight<--I cannot sleep on planes, especially when Braveheart or On the Waterfront is offered as entertainment.
(York Hall, set up for Devoted and Disgruntled goodness.)Sunday, 11 January:
More D&D, including a session about doing theatre in elderly homes, which brought back fond memories of this book.
Monday, 12 January:
Last session of D&D in the morning, and then off to school, where I saw The Five Obstructions and The Perfect Human, to help put into perspective a future speaker's topic of discussion. Good movies, and I recommend you definitely check out Five Obstructions if you are into the film making process. And if you find the time, scroll down and watch The Perfect Human--it is on this very blog!
Tuesday, 13 January:
Class consisted of gathering with the other MA courses at Central and sitting through presenter after presenter, discussing topics they had spent time researching. We are doing major research projects ourselves this term (to take place of our weekly lab work), so this whole week of speakers, workshops and the like were meant to give us a framework of understanding what it is we're meant to do. Some of it was useful. Some of it wasn't. It's amazing how boring some people can make theatre when they're reading a paper they wrote about it, after they've spent fifteen minutes really engaging you while they set up their discussion. It's kind of a shame, really.
Best part of the day was when my friend Caitlin gave me a necklace with a Dalek charm on it. For those who don't know (and I am guessing many of you do not), Daleks are the greatest adversaries of the Doctor (Dr. Who, people: that doctor). Caitlin and I love Dr. Who, though it must be admitted the reason rests almost solely (if not entirely) on David Tennant. But we're fine with that.
I swear to God I'm not a geek.Wednesday, 14 January:
First Wednesday back at Swiss Cottage meant the return of the greatest coffee I have ever found in my life. Jason is the man who runs the coffee stand in the farmer's market we have in front of school on Wednesday and Friday, and besides having great taste in books (he loaned me a Fante volume that I really need to finish...someday...), his coffee is impeccable. Seriously. I would not kid about coffee.
We met in the afternoon with the tutor who will be leading us through our research this term (and incidentally will be filling in for the performer's movement tutor while our course leader is off doing research on the history of movement directors) to present our topics. Each group had five minutes, after we'd all taken an hour to compose our presentation according to a graph model that was given to us. In research, it seems, people are very much fond of graphs, charts etc. It makes a person feel official, and it's fun to decide what color to make different parts of a pie chart showing percentages. The most fun part of the actual presentations for me was chiming out, "BONG!" at the five minute mark--Heidi was timekeeper, and a little sick, so I stepped in to BONG when the tutor reprimanded her for not projecting enough. A silly thing, to be sure, but it caused me much joy to participate in such a way, bringing about the full realization of the sneaking suspicion I'd had all week and month previous: I don't want to be an academic, and research for the most part bores me. But doing research is part of what makes this a master's program. Uh oh. This may become an "issue." We shall see.
Afterwards, I went to the first evening of our MA-ATP Speaker Series. The dramaturgs have been commissioned to bring in theatrical practitioners to speak (duh) about their jobs in the theatre today. That evening, we had as our guest Christopher Campbell, a very nice, interesting, and engaging man, who spoke to us about his job as Deputy Literary Manager for the National Theatre. No small fish here. He spoke about play selection, actor requirements when plays are selected for them, playwright insecurities, and why the National puts on so little new work--and it's not because every play they get is shit, either. It was a very enjoyable talk, and I look forward to more in the future.
On the way out of school to go grab dinner before Slumdog Millionaire that evening with friends, myself, David (dramaturg student who brought in Campbell), Campbell and my friend Poppy ended up in the lift together. The doors closed, and suddenly there was a mighty "THU-THUNK!!!" We had dropped a little, and then gotten stuck in between floors. The fire brigade had to come and get us out! Luckily it didn't take too long, and the company was very pleasant. David had given Campbell a bottle of whiskey as a gift for coming, and I kept joking her should open it up.
Caught Slumdog Millionaire, as already stated above, and may have found an affordable gym with a pool right by school. Very exciting.
Thursday 15 January:
I skived off ("played hooky"). I wish I hadn't because there were a couple workshops I heard about later that sounded interesting, but the sleep was very precious. I also had a really nice jog, and somehow ended up at King's Cross. Thought about checking for Platform 9 3/4, but decided to save it for another day. Also came to the realization that jogging in London is a near futile venture if you're not in a park: the sidewalks are WAY too narrow, and people seem confused/put out/ignorant of the concept of MOVING OUT OF THE WAY of the jogger who is going for time. Goodess sakes, people. It's almost as bad as people who smoke while walking, but never enact the common courtesy to move the cigarette out of the way when another person passes by closest to the hand holding said cigarette. I guess no one gets blinded by smoke, ash, or otherwise when room isn't made on the sidewalk, and surely no first degree burns are earned, but still: it sucks.
When I got home, I bought an impromptu ticket to a show for Friday night.
Friday 16 January:
More coffee. I love you, Jason.
Went to school to attend a function a classmate and I are trying to run every Friday called "The Space In Between." Basically, it's a big cross-sharing space for the different strands to come together and show off to each other what they're learned, what they already know, what they're interested in exploring. The hope is that out of these sharing sessions people will be able to find other students who are interested in investigating/developing the same kind of work, which would maybe lead to a collaboration for festival work. I should explain: during third term, our course puts on a festival of original work. A lot of the more noteworthy companies/practitioners that came out of this program moved their festival piece to Edinburgh the same year they were finishing their dissertation, so it's possible what we do here could lead to greater things. The sharing sessions would also hopefully be a place to showcase developing work for feedback, or to derive inspiration about your own work from what other people are bringing in. I thought it was a little ambitious to start off the first week back with a session, but I showed up with a Viola Spolin book in hand, ready to play.
I was the only one there.
I made use of the time by perusing the Spolin text (thank goodness I had brought Theatre Games for the Lone Actor<--I had a sneaking suspicion this was going to happen) and making a list of the things I had learned about living a theatrical life, in case, of course, I am ever called to give such advice. It's quite the list, I assure you. In any case, we hope that this week's SIB is more successful. We can only hope.
When I got home from school, I had a surprise package in the mail. My friend Logan had sent me Battlestar Galactica replica dog tags for none other than Kara Thrace! It came on a perfect day, as BSG premiered in the states that night. I did my part by honouring the occasion and wearing the dog tags to the theatre that night.
(Two science fiction accessory pieces in one week, is pretty geeky, I guess...But they were gifts!)
The London International Mime Festival is running till the 25th, and Friday night was the first show I caught. I saw Seeking Oedipus by Theatre of Silence Ex Machina at the Southbank Centre. It was a pretty solid show, and I enjoyed the physicality. But the most striking thing about the piece was this HUGE inclined plane that made up most of the set. You really appreciated how athletic the performers had to be to work on that--they were running, jumping, leaping, climbing, and sliding all over that thing. And then at one point Oedipus walked up the rake backwards very slowly. His quads must have killed him. What was nice about the actual narrative of the story was that they basically told you all of the exposition covered in Oedipus as the stage action. There was no "mime chorus," though that phrase conjures an interesting image. The actor playing Laius was by far my favorite. He was also the hottest. (Whatever helps...)
Saturday 17 January:
Met with my research group around the corner from my halls at the Welcome Collection in the morning (more about our topic of research and methods at a later date), and then heading home to watch the premiere episode of BSG I had downloaded from iTunes. (Holy Frak!) Then I wandered down to the BFI to catch part of a program of Charlie Chaplin's early films. The double-reel contained Pay Day and The Pilgrim, and the event started by showing the audience some old footage of when Chaplin first came back to the UK from the states--throngs of people at Waterloo, crowds that really wouldn't exist in that size or clamour again until the Beatles. It was wonderful, and seeing the films was a wonderful compliment to the mime/clown activities of the festival as well.
Sunday 18 January:
I slept. I needed it. And read Othello. I realize I've been neglecting Shakespeare for a while now, and that has to stop. So I promised myself that every Sunday I would read one of his plays that I hadn't read yet--and no, having seen a performance doesn't count. Next week: King Lear.
And that's all for right now. Tomorrow a lot of the North American Stronghold heads out to a bar on Leicester Square to watch the Inauguration. I'll let you know how that goes, and I promise to try to be more diligent about updating you guys about my life happenings. I promise to try. I promise.
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