Review - Mind as Matter and Medicine Now @ Wellcome Collection

Mind As Matter
I think brains are pretty cool. So when I heard of an exhibition about brains, merging science with art, i was extremely excited. This exhibition (@ Wellcome Collection, Euston Road, until June 2012) takes us through an examination of the human fascination with the brain. The exhibition housed photographs and paintings along with artefacts, scientific objects, and yes, brains (preserved of course). The goal of the Wellcome Collection is to present exhibitions at the meeting point between art and science. I found that with this exhibition waned a bit on this front; the outer edges presented the more art-focused pieces while the science was in the middle, the two existing in a segregated environment. This meant that the desired experience of seeing science as art and art as science was lost, for me anyway. That said, some of the pieces were really cool; casts of brains and the vein system in the human brain, and most haunting, drawings of a child experiencing a pre-operative procedure for a mental condition that will stay with me for some time.

Medicine Now
This exhibition, upstairs at Wellcome Collection, achieved what I feel Mind as Matter did not. Taking 5 areas of medicine now, the gallery was split up to merge the science and art of these. The most impressive section for me was the one on obesity; an installation of a tall, thin book shelf, stuffed with diet books reminded of the overwhelming amount of 'advice' available on the subject. Another sculpture (I've forgotten the title) looked at obesity physically; instead of the beautiful greek physique we are accustomed to seeing in a sculpture, the piece inflated various points of the body, balloning like the morbidly obese bodies we see from time to time. The figure was headless, and its body read like a road map of neglect. Other installations in this section were also very moving, includng the world map made of the kind of mosquitos that carry malaria; delicate, and dangerous.

I would recommend going along to check both out....they are definitely worth the time.

Time to get political

I try to stick to theatre and art in this blog, and its various inspirations. I can not do that right now. It is time to get overtly political. Time for some Canadian politics. Earlier this week, Alberta held an election for leadership of the province. As of the week-end, polls were showing the right-wing WildRose party in the lead, and the 40-year reign of the PCs in that province looked poised to fall.

As they sometimes do, the voters surprised everyone, and re-elected the PCs to a strong majority - 61 seats - while WildRose saw only 17. Canada breathed a sigh of comparative relief; bloggers and twitter lit up with otherwise left-leaning minds commenting how happy they were for a PC win, something you don't expect ever to hear.

So this morning, reading The Globe And Mail, I was made ill to read Ms Smith's latest.

Now that the WildRose were unsuccessful on their first attempt, they plan to change their policies. Okay, seems like a decent idea, right? Everything needs a fresh perspective after a loss. Sure. But Ms Smith campaigned on core beliefs including smaller government, ignoring climate change (well, arguing that it is still disputed scientifically...which amounts to ignoring it) and personal liberties. She had candidates making racist and homophobic comments in the media, never censured them. Now, upon losing, Ms Smith is thinking of "re-evaluating" their policy on climate change and other contentious issues. Pardon me, but re-evaluating? The party campaigned for several months on this right wing agenda, alienating the rest of the province. This is clearly something they believe heartily in. But a swift turn of the page to the day after losing the election, and Smith is ready to reconsider. Funny; a certain Mr Harper had similar right-wing views some years ago in Calgary. . . but he was deemed too extreme, and toned it down to get elected. Now that he is elected with a "mandate from the Canadian people" he is back to his right-wing tricks, dismantling the very institutions that define our country. Ms Smith appears to be taking a page out of Mr Harper's playbook.

Don't be fooled, Alberta. Ms Smith, it seems, will say whatever is required to get elected, and then do what she wanted all along. Please, have long memories on this one. Please.

New Explorations

Spent this lovely, sunny Saturday indoors at the University of London. Normally this would make me sad, however, today it simply inspired and encouraged me. I attended the Womens Studies Group's annual Workshop, titled Women, Performance, Portraiture. This is a group of mainly history scholars who meet throughout the year for workshops, field trips, etc, and most importantly, to share their scholarly endeavors.

The day began with a keynote speaker - the brilliant Gill Perry. (more on her here: http://www.open.ac.uk/Arts/arthistory/perry.shtml). The paper she presented looked at art and the creation of feiminine celebrity, particularly in 18th century London society circles. Looking at the semiotics not just of the works themselves, but also at their placement, prominence, and re-location in manor houses throughout England, she made some intriguing suggestions regarding the role art played in creating and perpetuating myths of celebrity. There were many resonances for me in this lecture, notably the ideas of public vs private space - hearkening back to our thoughts about The Duchess of Malfi. I cannot begin to give justice to her argument in the lecture, however suffice to say that it sparked many ideas in me, and something creative will come from this.

The second half of the day allowed for each delegate at the workshop to bring a small 5-10 minute presentation on their own current work. This, too, was fascinating. I was humbled in the presence of these intelligent women and the brilliant research they are undertaking. For my own contribution, I brought a section of Forc'd To Woo, the devised response to The Duchess of Malfi that I had created before our group merged our individual work to create In Secret. I talked a bit about my process for creating theatre - looking at historical texts for modern resonances and stories that echo forward, telling us something about the human condition, and specifically the female experience. I also talked a bit about how this developed in performance, and my future plans for the piece. I had some great questions from the group, and overall they seemed encouraging to my endeavors.

On a personal note, I was sure I would be nervous speaking; I was in the company of accomplished and published scholars, a lowly MA candidate, and in theatre nonetheless. That said, I wasn't nervous whatsoever. I felt extremely confident sharing my work and responding to questions about how I had created the piece.

It seems odd for a theatre maker to find their best inspiration in a room full of academics, but alas, I tend to be unconventional.

Review - The King's Speech @ Wyndham's Theatre (West End)

I went in knowing little of the production, and only knowing the script in its film incarnation. I was pleasantly surprised by the subtlety of the direction of Adrian Noble (former RSC AD) and the ability to stich seamlessly together the multiple short scenes in various landscapes in this rather cinematic script. It visits many of the same locations as the film, but obviously lacking outdoor settings in the theatre, Noble, and his very talented sound and set designers, used the depth of the stage and a series of frames to give shape and distance to the space, and ingenious sound placement and effect to give the impact of being in very large or very small spaces.

This was a very crisp production, with top knotch performances on all fronts, even for the matinee crowd. Notable were Charles Edwards as King George VI, and Joss Ackland as King George V. Ackland's monologue about Edward's impending coronation after his death was riveting; a master class in acting. The only actor whom I felt less engaged with was Charlotte Randle as Myrtle Logue; granted, this is a challenging role, rather one-dimensional, as we really only see her complaining of the desire to go home to Australia. That said, her performance felt up and down, which was noticeable in comparison to such seamless performances from the rest of the ensemble.

It is refreshing to see a professional production who clearly have an enormous budget (revolving stages don't come cheap) and yet don't overuse this budge to clutter the space visually or technically. The design, as with the performances, didn't have anything that wasn't necessary. Noble has clearly taken a page from Peter Brook's manifesto and brought it sparklingly to life.

One thing to add...perhaps it was the timing and seeing this in London, but the stage show came off with a much greater sense of patriotism to the empire, rallying the troops, etc, than did the film.

Review - Song Dong: Waste Not @ Barbican (The Curve)

I had been meaning to take in this installation for some time, and today, after an afternoon at the Museum of London, turned out to be the perfect opportunity. I began with reading the lengthy introduction Song Dong provides to the piece, outlining a significant amount of detail on the inspiration, notably his mother's life. Growing up in post-war China under communist rule, she was raised in a time of extreme frugality to ensure survival. As her life grew and changed, the need for this intense frugality waned, however her need to save - anything and everything - remained. The way Dong describes it, it is as if the objects began to fill voids and harbour memories she was unwilling to let go of.

At a glance, this could just look like a pile of stuff, which really could be from anyone's house. But upon a slow, careful inspection, each item has been kept and cared for in a very specific manner; plastic bags folded in neat triangles, squares of fabric scraps wrapped with string or ribbon, books piled neatly. And Dong's arrangement within the gallery takes the viewer from the impersonal to the personal, moving from bowls and pots, to boxes and toys, and finally to clothes and shoes. It is remarkable the things that make you realize how far away from home you are; whilst looking at the installation, it occurred to me that many of the objects are similar to those my mother has kept around the house. Unlike Dong, I often encourage my mother to get rid of things she is keeping for sentimental reasons that are no longer of use. This installation and its memory-infested objects hit home, and caused me to re-consider this perspective.

I strongly recommend checking this out. It is free, and runs to 12 June, 2012 in the Barbican Curve Gallery.

Link Here: http://www.barbican.org.uk/artgallery/event-detail.asp?ID=12878

Cliche?

Reading Sophie Nield's piece in the Guardian Theatre Blog (http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/theatreblog/2012/apr/03/curtain-calls-clapped-out-convention) got me thinking about discussions surrounding our work on Jean Genet. Our group, having created what we felt was an hour of work that subverted expectation and challenged the audience to take Genet seriously as a writer who still has something to tell us, proposed not having a curtain call. Our tutor, Andrew Visnevski, responded favourably to the piece we created, and challenged us further; not having a curtain call has become the expectation when one sees edgy, challenging theatre. So the audience, coming to see an MA response to Jean Genet would most certainly expect no curtain call. . . so our hour's worth of subversion would be undermined by this choice. Instead, he suggested that we come out behind the audience, and applaud them along with the empty stage; in a way, this honouring the ghost of Genet whom we had conjured in the previous 10 weeks and who had inspired our work.

So this is how we proceeded. Certainly the effect was startling to the audience; we waited for them to begin applauding, then appeared behind them, also applauding. It took a moment for each person to catch on, the increase in volume from 14 extra sets of hands clapping, the distinct lack of bodies on stage receiving the thanks.

In a way, this choice did what Nield and many comments on the blog have suggested; it forced a truthful appreciation of the work separate from the appreciation of the individuals creating the work. It is certainly something to consider.

Reflections in Latin - Ludus Danielis @ King's College London

I spoke briefly about this project in the fall, but in the swarm of work that has occurred since December, haven't spoken much since. This project, based in a long-term relationship RADA has had with King's College London, is an opportunity for MA Text & Performance students to direct a production populated by MA Latin students at King's. Outside of the play selection, the date, the location, and the necessity not to cut any of the latin text, the directors are given free reign on how to proceed.

Our play was Ludus Danielis - the story of Daniel - the c.1140 Beauvais play, in Medieval Latin and French. The location: the beautiful King's College Chapel inside the Strand Campus. So far, so good. Three of us from the MA T&P volunteered, and agreed to work together to co-direct the piece. This worked remarkably well, as each of us had the chance to jump in on areas where we were most interested or expert, allowing the overall production to have a very lively feel; a major accomplishment with an 800 year old play in a language very few speak or understand.

Our decision was to approach the story as a fairy tale of sorts; The student actors began as their "normal" selves, coming in as if they, too, were going to see the production. From here, we had 2 magical stagehand/ushers and a musician who weaved them into a magical land, wherein they took on the characters of the Beauvais play, and the play began. With limited cast, we opted to use puppets to populate chorus parts such as nobles or satraps, which traditionally would have been performed by larger choruses. This worked extremely well, adding a slight comic element to the piece. Now, adding comedy to a 12th century liturgical drama might seem odd, however our dramaturgical research uncovered evidence that these plays would have been fun and not purely serious; the role of early liturgical dramatic pieces was to engage the parish in the bible stories in a way that would be fun and exciting, particularly given that few would have understood Latin - much like our present-day audience. Another feature we added was music; a leitmotif was created for each character, which played as they began or ended an important speech or moment. This was in reference to the musical nature of these plays (many would have been fully or partially sung) and also to help the audience follow along with the story.

Overall, the production was a success. Our performers had a fabulous time, and reports from audience members was that the production was highly enjoyable. I look forward to this sort of unusual challenge again.

Photos: Ludus Danielis, directed by Kendra Jones, Cristina Cugliandro and Maria Kivinen
Design by Liv Wright

Perhaps I am odd

Still mentally reeling from the aftermath of 10 weeks intensely studying Jean Genet's work. I think it is the mark of a truly great writer that the further you get from the work, the more it seems to pop up in you, resonating across various areas of your life. One thing that is really interesting to me is the fascination many of my colleagues have had with Genet's own disregard for his writing, particularly his plays. He himself refers to them as "clumsy attempts", which many have voiced is frustrating, or difficult to encounter.

Perhaps I am odd. Somehow, in the midst of a world of people with limited talent taking themselves entirely too seriously, and even those with immense talent forcing a specific understanding of their work on others (The Beckett Police, anyone??) I find it refreshing to come across a writer who has had such immense influence, and yet disregards his own work in this way. It is important to note that he doesn't call out his work or tear it down, he simply acknowledges, with what I would argue is some modesty, that all we ever do is try. We never know all of the answers in our own work, or in how others will interpret it, and I find it rather inspiring that a man of such greatness can allow his work to be viewed with such simplicity. Certainly a lesson everyone can take from Genet, whether you like his work or not.

Review - Christopher Wheeldon's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - Royal Opera Ballet

There are certain companies you grow up in awe of. For the most part, this awe fades as you get older, learn more about your craft, and see more work. The Royal Ballet, home-base of two of my favourite dancers in history (Rudolph Nureyev and Margot Fonteyn) was one of those companies I was in awe of, and finally this week I had the chance to see them live. The awe has not faded in the least. This production, a re-mount of their 2011 world premiere, was every bit of brilliant dancing, amazing costumes and clever set design that I had grown up expecting to see at the Royal Opera Ballet.

The choreography, unlike many new full-length ballets, uses a significant amount of classical ballet language, with the majority of female roles en pointe. This was refreshing, as we have come to see a lot of character-shoe or bare-footed ballerinas after the contemporary dance waves of the 70s and 80s. Wheeldon spins a beautiful story, hearkening back to the original Lewis Carrol book, one spinning through confusion, illogical associations, and silliness. Some specific choices stood out; Alice's free-spirited and youthful movement carried through the piece, while the Queen of Hearts is shaped as a prima-ballerina past per prime, in full egotistical glory. The most genius stroke, however, was to make the Mad Hatter a tap dancer; Wheeldon's choreography allows the Mad Hatter's tapping to underscore the emotion in each moment, his steps mirroring the ballet ones, but adding sounds throughout, all of which was beautifully executed.

Overall, an amazing night-of-a-lifetime.

Review - The Master and Margarita - Complicite @ Barbican

Another company whose work I have admired for some time, and one which I had the immense pleasure of participating in a weekend lab with over the past two days (look for the blog on that too!). This piece, based on the Bulgakov pre-WW2 novel, was visually stunning, taking the audience through a mad and twisted fairy tale land of devils and talking cats, all with the assistance of 16 committed performers, minimal furniture, and amazing lighting design. True to their form, Complicite work from minimal props and sets, and will use physical theatre defamiliarization techniques to use these props to make all sorts of locations, objects, and feelings. In the hands of these capable performers, chairs become olive trees, weapons, stairs, you name it. The sheer imagination of the piece had me on edge, and completely wanting to invent work like this of my own.

That said, I did have some concern over the vocal work on the show; at times actors were not understandable (notably, the lead "The Master" was unintelligible from the upper stalls) while others' voices were strained and overworked. As well, I did find myself wondering how the show would be possible without the multi-million dollar lighting rig and amazing sound and lighting design they had. Obviously this is just my poor theatre student sensibility coming out, but there is something to be said; there were moments where I felt without the lighting or sound the energy of the piece would have been mute.

On the whole, I have immense respect for Complicite's work, and was fully inspired by the piece, despite a couple small queries or misgivings.

Review - Can We Talk About This? DV8 Physical Theatre @ Royal National Theatre

I have had a massive company-crush on DV8 for well over a year, since a friend first shared a clip of this show in its Australian incarnation. As a result, I went into this show with huge expectations and the desire to be tested intellectually and visually. The set as we first see it is a large, open space prepared for intricate physical movement with parquet floors. There is a wall close to the downstage side with mirrors on it, and doors lining the sides of the room on stage. Pulling no punches, creator Lloyd Newson begins by cracking in on the audience, largely visible in the mirror on stage, about moral superiority to the Taliban. This direct address sets the tone for the ensuing 120 minutes of questioning our stance (or lack thereof) when it comes to Western cultures interacting with other cultures, most specifically muslims. The show challenges us to look at our own beliefs, and to question why we have come to a place of moral relativism, where acts we view as completely heinous are okay for others, because of their "culture".

At its root is a deep belief in the univerality of human existence; that there are certain basic rights that all people deserve to have access to, and that for someone to remove those rights in the name of religion or culture is not acceptable. The intellectual debate is fiery, and is underscored by intense physical choreography which echoes in space and movement the essence of what a character is saying or doing, to great effect. When a politician is dancing around an issue, the actor is literally fancy-footing around the stage. When a woman is preaching from her high horse, she speaks the entire monologue from atop another actor, who moves her around as if he was her chair.

Oddly, despite the desecriptions I have stated above, it does not feel like it gives us an answer...rather it asks A LOT of questions and at least in my case, sparked some serious discussion about how we should handle these things and what is acceptable.

Overall, the effect was visually stunning, underscoring intense intellectual debate, and left me thinking. Isn't that what we want theatre to do?

Downfall - Death of the Vancouver Playhouse

For those outside the Canadian theatre bubble, this might require some explanation. March 9th, the Vancouver Playhouse, a regional Canadian theatre established in 1962, announced it would be closing. Plagued with debt, the company felt they were unable to overcome this and the board voted to shut things down. As one might imagine, this has caused outcry from the theatre community across Canada; anger at arts cuts from the current Conservative government that span back years, mountains of hypotheses on the cause of this downfall , and petitions circulating to try to save the company, soliciting donations. I do not disagree with a single one of these.

That said, I feel that the thing that is going unsaid (or at least not loudly enough) is that many professional regional companies in Canada are not creating work that gives people a reason to go. In an age where Hollywood and Television do what they do so well, and suck people in to paying upwards of $13 for a movie theatre ticket to see the latest blockbuster, theatre interest has waned, particularly among the aging middle-class bourgeois Canadian public. Now what has the Canadian Mainstream's response to this been, in the face of large commercial successes like those seen by DanCap and Mirvish in Toronto (the Canuck equivalent of the West End or Broadway)? It has been to try continually to produce the mega-budget, big-star blockbuster, but on the stage. This has meant season after season full of adaptations from films, or staging of plays that have been made to films, for maximum opportunity for success. Rather than engaging with what makes theatre essential, as well as what makes it fundamentally different from a moviegoing experience, theatre in Canada has attempted to be "just like the big kids".

I would like this to be a call to arms for my fellow young theatremakers in Canada; With our generation, lets fix things, not by going with formulae and safe but mediocre successes, but by really challenging why on earth we make this stuff in the first place. Lets make interesting and new work that challenges the audience and makes them want more. What stories must be told in the theatre? What makes our medium, one that has existed for 2000 years different and necessary? And why should people come see our work?

When we can begin to attempt to answer these questions in our work, we'll have begun to do something truly worthwhile. I know it is in there.

Trying

Well, the day is here! The play I dared write will have a scene performed at RADA this evening, in the lovely hands of a talented director and 2 talented performers. What a surreal experience, not only having my characters brought to life, but having my text interpreted by a director, seeing how she makes my words come alive.

I was just sitting in a rehearsal, listening to their final work before our workshop presentation, and it was like an out of body experience; I know I wrote these words, and yet performed, it sounds like words that came from someone else.

I look forward to tonight's performance! I will be recording it and will post it up for viewing enjoyment.

More Questions

I just had my preliminary meeting with my tutor, Andrew Visnevski, in preparation for my dissertation work commencing in May. All I can say is that I had a lot of questions leading to this meeting, and now have even more, and even fewer answers and less focus. That said, I am extremely excited to have this project beginning, and cannot wait to see where it will take me intellectually, artistically, and personally.

Now to make a plan of attack, keep reading like a crazy person, and find some actor-collaborators.

Celebrating Women

It is International Womens' week, which means that there are a plethora of readings, exhibitions, meetings, and the like celebrating the work of women and how far we have come in the last century or so. Simultaneously, there are daily barrages of female image on television, film, advertising, music, quickly regressing this progress in the search for the 'girl' with the best legs, or who makes the most desirable (read: attractive) mate. Club culture is no exception; it is a place where women continue to be valued for the brevity of their skirt and the height of their heels, and go-go dancers have made a resurgence in their underwear-worn-as-outerwear attire. So it seemed to me these worlds collided when I received a facebook invite to an event titled "International Women's Week" at a weekly club night in a Canadian city which will remain unnamed. This night boasted "Free cover for the ladies" and a single "girl-dj special guest" among the male-filled lineup of five. In addition, the night boasted go-go dancers.

Now, take away the event title, and this is pretty standard club-fare; boys' club where the girl sometimes gets to come play, but for the most part is relegated to a status in a skimpy skirt and fur boots atop a speaker. But this event really took things to a new level by labelling itself for International Womens' Week, whilst continuing to offer these demeaning evidences. These people have missed the point to a degree beyond any rational explanation. Is our generation truly that out of touch that it feels something like this might actually empower women and challenge gender roles?

I sincerely hope things like this are isolated. I also sincerely hope that no self-respecting woman shows up.

Pushing Boundaries

I have mentioned in previous blogs that I am grappling with ideas of responsibility to the audience, how we position the audience as performer-creators, and what the limits might be of what we can demand from our audience. Last night's scene study class allowed another opportunity for me to give this consideration, as we were joined by Dominic Johnson, performance artist and lecturer at Queen Mary, University of London. [http://www.dominicjohnson.co.uk/Dominic_Johnson/Introduction.html]

It is very simple to see performance art, particularly that which contains self-mutilation of some kind as facile or sensationalist. I think this is selling it short, as there is something very engaging to be taken from these pieces, whether we feel we agree with them or not. Dominic's work is highly detailed, engaging very specifically with questions and challenges posed by theatre intellectuals, and in creating a language of images does not allow the viewer to sit back. His work engages specifically with questions of our comfort; why do we accept some things and not others, why is boxing okay, but piercing on stage crossing a line? In many ways, Dominic's talk with us raised more questions than it answered, however what I can say definitively is that is has pushed me into a further examination of where my limits are. I think (and this is rather tentative) that what causes me to step back is the potential for chaos, of unexpected danger. Contrary to social mores, I tend to accept performance art which is planned, rehearsed, safe in its execution and reject boxing for its chaotic and limitless nature. But then what of the things that lie in between? Physical theatre or dance, for example, are willing, consentual abuses of the body, which although practiced could go horribly wrong. Why is this still okay to me?

And in doing all of this, where does this position the audience? What is the difference between an audience who has purchased a ticket specifically to see a performance artist in a theatre space, and a clubber who sees a performance artist, perhaps unexpectedly? What considerations must the creator have, or is this difference, this subversion of expectation precisely the point?

It seems that I accept the aestheticization of pain. Time for more thinking.

Meditations on Identity

Last night's scene study class was a further extension of our discussion of tragedy as an identity-creation machine, this time focused on the creation of a National identity. Using Yeats' work at the turn of the 20th century as a starting point, we looked at the ways in which theatre and theatrical events (national ceremony, ritual, sport) can help to shape the identity of a nation and provide the values on which that nation define itself. This reciprocal, circular relationship is a confusing one, for arguably if done well, the image in the art reflects the image of the nation while simultaneiously propagating it.

I often find these discussions particularly engaging in their focus on post-colonial nations and their struggle to create an identity after the absence of the oppressor. This is fascinating to me, coming from Canada, as a result of our unique situation. Canada has only been a nation since 1867, and has primarily been a nation of immigrants. The very fact that our first peoples were shipped off, forced into assimilation, is only in recent years with the residential schools inquiries and commissions beginning to come into light as an issue for artistic contention. But for the rest of us, for the immigrant Canadians, the sense of identity has always had a necessary duality. We are at once Canadian, and our family's country of origin - Irish, Ukrainian, Polish, German, what have you. Even myself, a third and fourth generation Canadian, identify as a Ukrainian-Canadian. We identify strongly with the histories of our families, while also engaging with the future of our nation; that nation which was shaped by luminaries such as Pearson and Trudeau. My generation, the young thinkers and artists of today, are the first to have grown up in a Canada which had this view of our nation for the entirety of our lives, and this bodes well for the creation of an increasing amount of theatre that truly has a Canadian voice.

I found it interesting that in a brief discussion of the "global" citizen, versus the Nationalist citizen, our tutor raised Robert Lepage's theatre as an example of Global theatrical values - of duality. In fact, this is a distinctly Canadian identity, in the case of Lepage a French-Canadian identity, but one that echoes for all Canadians' sense of duality. Fascinating that the identity of a nation formed by thinkers like Pearson et al would be picked up as a global identity; I suspect he would be proud. I know I am. I just hope we can live up to it.

Review - Juno and the Paycock - Royal National Theatre

I have two perspectives of this production. The first, from my seat in the front row was extremely engaged; this is how I viewed act 1. From the first row, the set towered in all of its deconstructed beauty. The ceiling, a good 8 feet higher than would be necessary, gave the impression that this was a formerly grand room, in which this family had squatted and built shanty-rooms in which to live. The actors inner-lives radiated, and I was acutely aware of their struggle despite the comic overtones the director emphasized. For the second act, we opted to move to some empty rows in the back of the main floor of the theatre. . . and I believe lost something in the move. The second act, which contains the downfall of the family, appeared framed, distant, held back in the proscenium. Where in the first act, I was very aware of the director's hand in pulling out comedy before we turned to the tragedy, in the second act my awareness of the director's hand was as puppetmaster, moving the actors about the space for seemingly no reason at all.

Now to consider this as a tragedy. I believe that Juno is set up to be our tragic hero; she works to keep her family afloat, is offered what seems like an opportunity and rather than act cautiously, she spends, allows niceties, and ultimately is responsible for her family's further fall; her daughter's demise, the loss of their home and any respect they maintained. Certainly, if we are to measure tragedy in Aristotelian terms, I felt pity for this woman and her family...but I cannot say that I felt fear at the same time. Is this a way to present tragedy now? I am not so sure; this appeared to work within the already agreed upon tragic "rules", and in presenting a moment in history, did not necessarily speak to me about an act which is tragic. There needs to be an element of avoidability for katharsis to emerge, and for the characters to be likable. While I liked the actors, I can't say I liked the characters, so while I pitied their fall, I did not fear it for myself.

This said...the daughter Mary was a character whom was recognizable for the audience, and for whom the closest thing to pity and fear may have been acknowledged. This was a young woman who showed ambition and desire to better herself, and through poor (and avoidable) judgement, set herself back in a position worse than where she began life.

I want to go to France

I have been reading quite heavily about French politics and art, particularly in the time between the wars, and after world war 2. This is solidifying my desire to visit France. I have wanted to go since I was a small child, but the desire waned slightly in my older years, after visiting amazing German cities such as Berlin, and falling in love with London. Maybe it is time for another new love.

Some 20th century French poems that are speaking to me in reference to Genet's work:

French surrealist Robert Desnos (1900-1945) - I've dreamed such dreams of you

I've dreamed such dreams of you that you're losing
your reality.
Do I still have time to reach your vital body, to kiss
into life that voice I love so much?
I've dreamed such dreams of you that my arms,
across my chest, might not yield to your body's shape.
Faced with the real presence of what's haunted and
guided me all these days and years, doubtless I'd become
a shadow.
Fine balance of feelings!
I've dreamed such dreams of you that the time for
waking must have come and gone. I'm asleep on my feet,
exposed to every image of life and love, and you, the only
thing which counts forme now, any lips, any forehead
will be easier for me to touch than your forehead, your
lips.
I've dreamed such dreams of you, I've walked so
much, talked so much, lain so much with your shadow,
that perhaps now all I can be is a ghost among ghosts, a
hundred times more shadow than the moving shadow
cast and lightly cast again across your life measured by
the sun.

Swiss-born French poet Philippe Jaccottet (1925-) - Serenity

The shadow within the light
like light blue smoke

Belgian-born poet Jean Daive (1941-) I rise from the depths

I rise from the depths of my resemblance
at the very edge of enigma

evening after evening
I have vanished I vanish

blinded resemblance
falls back into cold's fabric

____________________
All taken from:
Sorrell, Martin. Modern French Poetry. London: Forest Books, 1992. P. 63, 105, 227.

Review - The Maids by Jean Genet @ RADA

It almost feels unfair for me to review this, given my intense investigation of Genet these days, but alas, here it is.

We begin with a very traditional setup of Genet's world; a closet with dresses suggesting a time, but of no specific time. Tasteful furniture that would not be out of place today but suggests a certain antiquity. Maids in traditional uniform. And the game begins. The problem, for me, was that the game at once gave the impression that the players did not know where it was at, and at the same time were acutely aware that the game was on. The magic of Genet's play comes in its ability to trick the audience (and the players!) into conviction about the way the world must be, so that when the balloon pops and the game is interrupted there is a moment of utter confusion as to what has just taken place.

The production, as a whole, came across as safe. The Maids should have a seedy underbelly which slowly creeps out from beneath the text as a dangerous and risky game; this came across as a safe role play, for which everyone knew the end, and no real danger was present. I believe that some of this safety was the result of the translation. This was a version by Martin Crimp, which is undeniably English in its translation. With this came a minimalization of the dirt that Genet gives us in the language; we lost the beautifully grotesque image of "drowning in the depths of your stink, in the mists of your swamps" - the visceral quality of the langauge was lost, a factor I hypothesize contributed to the sense of safety in the production. Hearing phrases such as "arouse" in place of "seduce" dialed back the overt and dangerous sexuality in the text.

The performances were adequate, but I would argue unmatched. The sense of similarity between the three characters was lost, replaced by an individuality which detracts from Genet's power.