Friday, 30 November 2007
Righting the balance
And sometimes it just takes an evening in with friends, watching ridiculous 80s movies and eating homemade pizza, to make everything seem alright again.
Wednesday, 28 November 2007
More than whelmed
Yesterday was one of those days where at one point I just had to let myself cry for awhile. I'm feeling overwhelmed by a lot of things these days. Learning about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is hard. Trying to determine my place in the school and in my life right now is hard. Feeling a little isolated is hard. Not getting enough alone-time is hard. Not having the time to really connect with my friends is hard. Working too much is hard. Having a crazy-long commute is hard. Not knowing what I want is hard...
*sigh*
The list goes on.
I am ok. I'm hanging in there. Sometimes things aren't easy, and that's ok. Let's just say that I'm really looking forward to coming home for Christmas.
Tuesday, 27 November 2007
Quasiland
I left on Friday night, got back at 5:30 on Sunday, was in bed by 7pm, and slept. For fourteen hours straight.
It was an incredibly exhausting, stressful, challenging weekend. And I'm so tremendously glad I went.
It was an incredibly exhausting, stressful, challenging weekend. And I'm so tremendously glad I went.
Friday, 23 November 2007
The storyteller's right
Over the past couple of days, our class has been trying to determine which stories we want to tell for our final project of the term. The format is epic theatre, and the recommendation is to take a human story against a historical backdrop - a time of political upheaval, of war, of off-balance. We started out with about a dozen stories, and it looks as though we've narrowed it down to three themes for as many groups: the slave trade, a George Orwell story about the British occupation of Burma called Shooting an Elephant, and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
I chose to be in the last group, and I'm fucking terrified. We haven't chosen a story yet, but just that story, the theme of that conflict is so scary to me. I don't know that it's a story that I feel qualified to tell. It's so present and real and bloody and messy and complicated. In a way there's no objective distance from this theme, and in a way there's far too much. I'm terrified of messing it up. I'm terrified that sometime in the next five years I'll find myself in the West Bank (which could easily happen, based on this peacework investigation I've been doing of late) and feel like I told the wrong story or didn't do it right, or got it wrong. I'm terrified of preaching about something I know nothing about. I'm afraid of presenting in front of the two Israeli students in the morning group, and their reactions, whatever they may be.
And it's far too early in the process to freak out, in a way. But there is something in my gut that is very aware of how hard this will be, and how dangerous it is.
If we pull it off, if we're able to find a supremely human story to extricate from that ridiculous painful political mess, than it will be absolutely powerful and incredible and amazing theatre. If. But right now, when it's early enough that we haven't, I have misgivings galore.
I chose to be in the last group, and I'm fucking terrified. We haven't chosen a story yet, but just that story, the theme of that conflict is so scary to me. I don't know that it's a story that I feel qualified to tell. It's so present and real and bloody and messy and complicated. In a way there's no objective distance from this theme, and in a way there's far too much. I'm terrified of messing it up. I'm terrified that sometime in the next five years I'll find myself in the West Bank (which could easily happen, based on this peacework investigation I've been doing of late) and feel like I told the wrong story or didn't do it right, or got it wrong. I'm terrified of preaching about something I know nothing about. I'm afraid of presenting in front of the two Israeli students in the morning group, and their reactions, whatever they may be.
And it's far too early in the process to freak out, in a way. But there is something in my gut that is very aware of how hard this will be, and how dangerous it is.
If we pull it off, if we're able to find a supremely human story to extricate from that ridiculous painful political mess, than it will be absolutely powerful and incredible and amazing theatre. If. But right now, when it's early enough that we haven't, I have misgivings galore.
Thursday, 22 November 2007
Some light reading
Here's the first draft of one of our assignments for Company Development. We are "forming a company", and were asked to answer these questions about ourselves. Here's what we came up with:
Company Development
Five Questions
Group: Baerbel, Natali, Agnese, Persefoni, Isabel
What do we do?
We create collaborative theatre that is deeply human and therefore deeply political. It is a theatre about what moves the world, what moves human beings, and what moves us. Our point of departure is twofold, as we take inspiration both from pre-existing canonical texts, and also from current events. Through the revisiting of old works in different countries and through the lens of different cultural contexts, we hope to reveal the underlying humanity and universal truths of the classics. However, we also have an emphasis on original devised work that is inspired by true, seemingly insignificant events: for example, we may devise a piece surrounding a newspaper article about a Siberian village population that has been displaced as a result of railroad development, or about a café owner in Baghdad who continually reopens his shop in the midst of war. Depending on the topic or theme, we look to incorporate and utilise theatrical forms or cultural traditions (including rituals, songs, dances, etc) that may support the theme or reveal a new meaning or deeper human truth. In this way we endeavour to draw from all cultures and styles, to challenge and inspire our audience, and to reflect upon our times and human condition: the joy as well as the sorrow, the beauty as well as the ugliness inherent in life.
Why do we do what we do?
We live in a world that is increasingly globalised, yet increasingly divided. In times such as these, it is more important than ever to seek to illuminate and understand what makes us human, and the ties that bind across cultures, language, and experience. We believe that theatre is a truly human form of communication, which enables a communion between performer and audience that is unmatched in any other medium. We believe in the right of the global community to have its stories told, as well as the right of the global community to hear those stories. We hope to open a door to a greater awareness of the world and the human condition as it is experienced elsewhere. We create theatre for the sake of presenting a new point of view, for the sake of education, for the sake of revealing a deeper humanity that may take us some small step closer to understanding the ties that bind over those conflicts that would tear us apart.
Why do we exist as a group?
As a group of theatre artists, we embody the type of theatre we would like to create: internationally diverse, artistically adventurous, intellectually curious, and socially concerned. With five members, we represent five nationalities and five different mother tongues, yet we speak the same theatrical language (thanks largely to our collective training at the London International School of Performing Arts.) Similarly, as we seek to find a deeper universal language in our work, we can seek within our group to discover that human essence that reaches beyond cultural experience and upbringing. More practically, our widespread geographical roots give us an inestimable advantage in networking, as well as opportunities to create theatre all over the world.
Who do we do it for?
Our theatre is accessible enough that it can be appreciated and enjoyed by people from all walks of life, all cultures and backgrounds. The specific audience will vary from project to project, depending on our location at the time and the community in which we find ourselves. The constant is that we do theatre for the community in which we exist.
Where do we do it?
Our theatre is a theatre in motion. We operate on the principle of a “floating base,” which means that our theatrical home would change every 2-5 years. Within that span of time, however, we would embark on projects of 3-12 months that would take place elsewhere in the world. For example: though we have a space that we return to regularly in (insert location here) (our “base”), we may spend 9 months living and working in a village in India re-envisioning Hamlet within their cultural context and collaborating with that immediate community before returning to our base to share that work with an international audience. Often the sharing of such a production with the audience and public found at our base and through international touring will provide the financial means to continue the work of the company, and to fund subsequent projects.
Company Development
Five Questions
Group: Baerbel, Natali, Agnese, Persefoni, Isabel
What do we do?
We create collaborative theatre that is deeply human and therefore deeply political. It is a theatre about what moves the world, what moves human beings, and what moves us. Our point of departure is twofold, as we take inspiration both from pre-existing canonical texts, and also from current events. Through the revisiting of old works in different countries and through the lens of different cultural contexts, we hope to reveal the underlying humanity and universal truths of the classics. However, we also have an emphasis on original devised work that is inspired by true, seemingly insignificant events: for example, we may devise a piece surrounding a newspaper article about a Siberian village population that has been displaced as a result of railroad development, or about a café owner in Baghdad who continually reopens his shop in the midst of war. Depending on the topic or theme, we look to incorporate and utilise theatrical forms or cultural traditions (including rituals, songs, dances, etc) that may support the theme or reveal a new meaning or deeper human truth. In this way we endeavour to draw from all cultures and styles, to challenge and inspire our audience, and to reflect upon our times and human condition: the joy as well as the sorrow, the beauty as well as the ugliness inherent in life.
Why do we do what we do?
We live in a world that is increasingly globalised, yet increasingly divided. In times such as these, it is more important than ever to seek to illuminate and understand what makes us human, and the ties that bind across cultures, language, and experience. We believe that theatre is a truly human form of communication, which enables a communion between performer and audience that is unmatched in any other medium. We believe in the right of the global community to have its stories told, as well as the right of the global community to hear those stories. We hope to open a door to a greater awareness of the world and the human condition as it is experienced elsewhere. We create theatre for the sake of presenting a new point of view, for the sake of education, for the sake of revealing a deeper humanity that may take us some small step closer to understanding the ties that bind over those conflicts that would tear us apart.
Why do we exist as a group?
As a group of theatre artists, we embody the type of theatre we would like to create: internationally diverse, artistically adventurous, intellectually curious, and socially concerned. With five members, we represent five nationalities and five different mother tongues, yet we speak the same theatrical language (thanks largely to our collective training at the London International School of Performing Arts.) Similarly, as we seek to find a deeper universal language in our work, we can seek within our group to discover that human essence that reaches beyond cultural experience and upbringing. More practically, our widespread geographical roots give us an inestimable advantage in networking, as well as opportunities to create theatre all over the world.
Who do we do it for?
Our theatre is accessible enough that it can be appreciated and enjoyed by people from all walks of life, all cultures and backgrounds. The specific audience will vary from project to project, depending on our location at the time and the community in which we find ourselves. The constant is that we do theatre for the community in which we exist.
Where do we do it?
Our theatre is a theatre in motion. We operate on the principle of a “floating base,” which means that our theatrical home would change every 2-5 years. Within that span of time, however, we would embark on projects of 3-12 months that would take place elsewhere in the world. For example: though we have a space that we return to regularly in (insert location here) (our “base”), we may spend 9 months living and working in a village in India re-envisioning Hamlet within their cultural context and collaborating with that immediate community before returning to our base to share that work with an international audience. Often the sharing of such a production with the audience and public found at our base and through international touring will provide the financial means to continue the work of the company, and to fund subsequent projects.
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
Tipping the scales
Life feels schizophrenic these days.
Good things:
Good things:
- The Intro to Civilian Protection workshop on Sunday went well
- I started cycling again this past weekend
- Due to a series of events, I can now afford to do the residential simulation peacework course this weekend
- I'm proud of the commedia piece we presented yesterday, and I love my group
- I'm really excited about tackling epic theatre
- Classmates have found really interesting stories to try to translate to the stage
- I feel incredibly blessed to be at this school
Bad things:
- I'm exhausted, and I don't know how much longer I can maintain this schedule
Sometimes one or two bad things is all it takes to mitigate a bunch of good things. Not that life is terrible at the moment - far from it. It just makes me a little sad sometimes when I realise how much more I could appreciate the good things, if only I had the time and energy to do so.
Friday, 16 November 2007
Writer's block
I have a newfound respect for writers. I'm trying to work on my one-woman crucifixion show* and it's much more difficult than I thought it would be. Props to playwrights. It's harder than it looks. (Not that I ever thought it was easy, but.)
And speaking of Jesus and writing, here's an ad in the tube that keeps making me laugh. It's for a book that just came out called The Gospel of the Second Coming and the tagline is: "Jesus is back - and this time he's funny!" How amused am I?
*Sometimes I'm also amused thinking about the random phrases that, when googled, could potentially lead people to my blog. "One woman crucifixion show"? "Lesbian love fest"? Oh, the possibilities...
And speaking of Jesus and writing, here's an ad in the tube that keeps making me laugh. It's for a book that just came out called The Gospel of the Second Coming and the tagline is: "Jesus is back - and this time he's funny!" How amused am I?
*Sometimes I'm also amused thinking about the random phrases that, when googled, could potentially lead people to my blog. "One woman crucifixion show"? "Lesbian love fest"? Oh, the possibilities...
Thursday, 15 November 2007
Part of the problem
You know, when I wrote that "I'm so happy!" entry yesterday, I knew that things were gonna turn around. I mean, that's just part of the way it works. There's always at least a little bit of other-shoe-droppage when things are going well, and the case holds here.
I'm not going to go too much into detail: suffice it to say that over the past day or two, information and emotions have come to light amongst my creation group that the group hasn't been working well, people have felt stepped on, etc. And as I wasn't aware of all these feelings of upset and frustration, I can only assume that I'm more a part of the problem than of the solution.
Resolution for the week: Listen more. Pay attention. It's not all about you.
I'm not going to go too much into detail: suffice it to say that over the past day or two, information and emotions have come to light amongst my creation group that the group hasn't been working well, people have felt stepped on, etc. And as I wasn't aware of all these feelings of upset and frustration, I can only assume that I'm more a part of the problem than of the solution.
Resolution for the week: Listen more. Pay attention. It's not all about you.
Wednesday, 14 November 2007
Walkin' on sunshine, whoa-oh!
I'm so excited by my school at the moment. Here's why:
- I had my voice tutorial with Simon R last Saturday, and it was super great. He is super great. I was a little terrified going in, and sure enough he made me do the kinosphere exercise, but it was really ... well, great. Yay voice.
- Our Company Development class is awesome and we get really interesting, exciting homework assignments. This week we've had to break ourselves into little "companies" and answer questions about who we are as a group, what kind of art we want to make, for whom, why, etc. My group consists of myself, Natali, Agnese, Persefoni, and Baerbel, and I am so inspired by them. Remember when I said I wasn't sure that there were people that shared my artistic vision? That's not entirely the case. I love articulating what we love and feel is important with these girls.
- This week we get to do research into epic short stories to translate to stage. It was suggested that we try to find specific, human stories using a backdrop of major historical events. I immediately thought of Sophie Scholl and The White Rose which, though admittedly non-fiction, still fits the bill. I'll also be going to the library after work to check out some short story anthologies.
- Yesterday was a day that just kept getting better. After a iffy-but-fun presentation and then literally falling asleep under Baerbel's massaging hands in Ilan's class, we had Thomas. He introduced us to solo storytelling, and the technique and adventure and fun of playing all the characters yourself. Our theme for solo improv in front of the class was: you're a ticket scalper at Jesus' crucifixion - what did you see? what happened while you were there? And then we essentially let our imaginations run wild. Mine culminated in a cat-fight between Mary Magdalene and Momma Mary, and I had sooooooo much fun.
- AND! Thomas said if we want to, we can work on these little solo storytelling projects on our own time and perform them for the class and teachers on presentation days! I'm really going to try to work on mine, I think. Diogo has said he can help direct. I'm super excited.
After class, a bunch of us went out to the corner pub and just had a really lovely, laughy fun time. It was the first time I'd really properly been out with classmates since school started, and it was just lovely. I'm tired at work today and my eyes are itchy from my contacts, but I don't mind. I don't mind at all.
Monday, 12 November 2007
The stars know me well...
So this morning on the tube I'm reading my free paper, like you do, and of course end up on the comics/games/horoscope page at the back. And I read my horoscope, just for the hell of it:
LIBRA: Good financial news helps you greet the week with a smile. Resist going shopping, though. It's hardly fair for you to spend all your good fortune before your piggy bank even gets a whiff of it.
"Hah," I thought. "How could I possibly get good financial news today? I get paid on Thursday, it's true, but I know how much that's going to be, and while it's nice, it's nothing unexpected."
When I got to work, there was an announcement on the intranet that our payslips were available for early viewing. I checked it out... and found that it was £200 more than usual. I even called payroll to make sure there hadn't been a mistake... there hadn't. (It was some backpay thingamajiggy - it's only a one-time deal, but still!)
Oh man, do I love the stars today. But it is a bit of a struggle to remind myself that this money needs to go towards my towering tuition bill, NOT towards another peaceworkers weekend... or some boots... or a teal cordouroy jacket...
Bad Isabel. Be responsible. It's hardly fair for you to spend all your good fortune before your piggy bank even gets a whiff of it.
LIBRA: Good financial news helps you greet the week with a smile. Resist going shopping, though. It's hardly fair for you to spend all your good fortune before your piggy bank even gets a whiff of it.
"Hah," I thought. "How could I possibly get good financial news today? I get paid on Thursday, it's true, but I know how much that's going to be, and while it's nice, it's nothing unexpected."
When I got to work, there was an announcement on the intranet that our payslips were available for early viewing. I checked it out... and found that it was £200 more than usual. I even called payroll to make sure there hadn't been a mistake... there hadn't. (It was some backpay thingamajiggy - it's only a one-time deal, but still!)
Oh man, do I love the stars today. But it is a bit of a struggle to remind myself that this money needs to go towards my towering tuition bill, NOT towards another peaceworkers weekend... or some boots... or a teal cordouroy jacket...
Bad Isabel. Be responsible. It's hardly fair for you to spend all your good fortune before your piggy bank even gets a whiff of it.
Friday, 9 November 2007
Peacework and Performance
There's no excuse, really, for my prolonged cyber silence of late. There's been plenty going on, and therefore plenty to write about, yet somehow a week has slipped by and I don't know where to begin. We'll start with last weekend.
Last weekend was my Introduction to Working in Conflict course, and it was nothing short of inspiring. I've been interested in peacework since I read some UN volunteers' joint memoir in late summer of 2004, and in international development work for much longer, but it had always seemed like an unattainable goal, intimidating in its sprawl and importance. No longer! Not only do I feel that I have a much better idea of what peacework is and all the different fields and projects it can encompass, I feel that it's something I Could Do. I can do. There were lots of different areas that appealed to me, but some of the ones that have stayed in my mind were short term election observation (as a good foot-in-the-door way to start with peacework), listening projects (helping people to deal with trauma experienced through conflict by simply listening to their stories), and protective accompaniment. This last one in particular really set me on fire. One of our guest speakers was a woman with Peace Brigades International, which is a group that has a presence in Colombia, Mexico, Guatemala, Indonesia, and Nepal. In these countries, there are ordinary people who are doing incredible things for human rights; and as a result, their lives are in danger. Volunteers with PBI simply accompany these amazing individuals as they continue their human rights work, providing an international and conspicuous presence, and making them safer simply through their presence; possibly even saving their lives, however implicitly.
Can you imagine that? Can you imagine living in Indonesia, or Mexico, or Colombia for a year, observing ordinary people do extraordinary things in the interest of humanity, and simply by your presence helping them to continue that work? It gives me goosebumps. It seems like such an amazing opportunity, such important work.
I've signed up for another workshop, this one only day-long, on Civilian Protection. This will go into more detail with the work PBI does, as well as other organisations like them.
As wonderful as last weekend was, though, it has resulted in something of a split: last week I wrote about my Dream Life as an Artist, and last weekend I started to envision my Dream Life as a Peaceworker. They're not neccesarily different lives, but they're very different paths. Does that make sense? I feel that I'm beginning to understand my own potential, and that these things that I've dreamed about truly are possible... and yet. I see two divergent paths, that could meet, but first I have to try one or the other. I can see myself diving into peacework. I can see myself diving into theatre. I can see myself trying to combine the two - but not for awhile yet. What I am certain of is that I would have to/want to do considerably more work in each individual field before I combine them. It's necessary, I think. Because I still don't know what the hell I'm doing when I'm in either world (not a bad thing). And after all, I need to experience it to learn if it really is what I want, in either case.
Another really incredible thing about last weekend was that I got to spend so much time with passionate, intelligent, interesting people... that had nothing to do with theatre. It was a nice change from spending all my time with passionate, intelligent, interesting theatre types. I love the theatre types, don't get me wrong. But I felt I was able to tap into a different side of myself by virtue of being with these other people - a side that I really love, but who doesn't get to come out and play much these days. What can I call her... Good Student Isabel? That's not right... but she's the one who enjoys lectures and group projects and doing well in class and playing well with others. She has her space at LISPA, too, but in a very different way. Maybe Academic Isabel is a more appropriate name. Anyway. It was really amazing to meet people that I share a non-theatre passion with. Very inspiring, and fun. It's a bit of a double-edged sword though, I have to admit, because whenever I bring up theatre (as a tool for development or otherwise) in a non-theatre group, I feel the need to justify myself. People don't take it seriously, or even if they don't dismiss it, they don't quite get it. Similarly, as far as I can tell I'm the only one at LISPA who has a real drive towards international development work. It's a little lonely feeling like noone shares your dream in the same way. But I suppose it's to be expected - as it is, my dream is far from definitively formulated, and I figure the more I am able to articulate what I want, the more people I'll find who fit into it. Or something.
Another battle within the Theatre or Development war is this: if I'm going to be completely honest, I think the theatre I want to make doesn't take place in (enter your developing country of choice here). I want to go to (developing country of choice), and I want to make theatre with them there to the ends of education and communication and joy, but that wouldn't be my theatre: it would be theirs. That's the point. But I want my theatre as well. I want my theatre company that tours the world and does amazing work. It feels selfish, and it brings up that age-old fear that if I choose theatre over peacework then I am a selfish person. And I think this colours my desire to use theatre towards peacework ends: "See? It's worthwhile! It's not just me having fun onstage! It can heal the world!" And it gets tricky, because I think theatre can. And does.
So what's my problem?
That to me, in this moment, using theatre as a tool for peace in the development world would mean that I would be a facilitator of that theatre. And that is important, and that interests me, and I would love to do that at some point, at many points. But I am always passionate about being theatre, making theatre, getting up to my elbows and experiencing and performing theatre, not only facilitating it for others.
Maybe it's a matter of finding space for all of these things.
Maybe I have a lifetime to figure it out.
Maybe this is why I haven't blogged since the workshop - I knew I would get out of control and write an ill-structured essay on My Existential Crisis of Purpose. Yikes.
Anyway. Back to the mundane.
I was also in a cycling accident this weekend. Long story short, my foot kicked off my pedal at the most inopportune of moments, got caught in my front wheel, and I almost got hit by a car. But didn't. But it was scary, and I fucked up my knee, and I've been limping all week. It's much better now, though, and the doctor said I didn't do any permanent damage - no fluid collection in the joint, and my kneecap is where it's meant to be - just hella lot of bruising. Needless to say(?), I've been taking the tube all this week.
We've also started working with masks in Commedia, and I gotta say, it looks like a lot of fun (my injury has kept me from participating in most of the exercises this week). Lots of solo themes wherein several very extreme states are travelled through, often to hilarious effect. (well, when it's done right...) I mean, don't get me wrong... it also looks INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT. But also like it would be fun. Says the girl who never volunteers. Because of her knee.
As a result of the commedia and extreme states of desire and urgency, our creation theme for the next two weeks is Lovers in a Hotel - wherein none of the lovers is there with their spouse, but their spouse manages to be there as well, with their own squeeze-on-the-side. Very farcical, slap-sticky, fun. And my group just happens to be made entirely of women, so we're having fun with our lesbian love-fest. It's kind of a blast. And by "kind of," I mean "totally."
What else? I may have won a trip for two to Italy and a digital camera. Meaning that I actually have won them - I have the winning pieces, but as they were given to me by a friend who didn't want to pay the £20 to claim the prizes (before he knew what they were), I feel like I should share. I'm going to talk to him today and let him know what [we've] won, and see if he wants one of the other. I kinda hope he doesn't want the trip to Italy, though :)
And that's it for my week. But that's enough. More than enough, for now.
Last weekend was my Introduction to Working in Conflict course, and it was nothing short of inspiring. I've been interested in peacework since I read some UN volunteers' joint memoir in late summer of 2004, and in international development work for much longer, but it had always seemed like an unattainable goal, intimidating in its sprawl and importance. No longer! Not only do I feel that I have a much better idea of what peacework is and all the different fields and projects it can encompass, I feel that it's something I Could Do. I can do. There were lots of different areas that appealed to me, but some of the ones that have stayed in my mind were short term election observation (as a good foot-in-the-door way to start with peacework), listening projects (helping people to deal with trauma experienced through conflict by simply listening to their stories), and protective accompaniment. This last one in particular really set me on fire. One of our guest speakers was a woman with Peace Brigades International, which is a group that has a presence in Colombia, Mexico, Guatemala, Indonesia, and Nepal. In these countries, there are ordinary people who are doing incredible things for human rights; and as a result, their lives are in danger. Volunteers with PBI simply accompany these amazing individuals as they continue their human rights work, providing an international and conspicuous presence, and making them safer simply through their presence; possibly even saving their lives, however implicitly.
Can you imagine that? Can you imagine living in Indonesia, or Mexico, or Colombia for a year, observing ordinary people do extraordinary things in the interest of humanity, and simply by your presence helping them to continue that work? It gives me goosebumps. It seems like such an amazing opportunity, such important work.
I've signed up for another workshop, this one only day-long, on Civilian Protection. This will go into more detail with the work PBI does, as well as other organisations like them.
As wonderful as last weekend was, though, it has resulted in something of a split: last week I wrote about my Dream Life as an Artist, and last weekend I started to envision my Dream Life as a Peaceworker. They're not neccesarily different lives, but they're very different paths. Does that make sense? I feel that I'm beginning to understand my own potential, and that these things that I've dreamed about truly are possible... and yet. I see two divergent paths, that could meet, but first I have to try one or the other. I can see myself diving into peacework. I can see myself diving into theatre. I can see myself trying to combine the two - but not for awhile yet. What I am certain of is that I would have to/want to do considerably more work in each individual field before I combine them. It's necessary, I think. Because I still don't know what the hell I'm doing when I'm in either world (not a bad thing). And after all, I need to experience it to learn if it really is what I want, in either case.
Another really incredible thing about last weekend was that I got to spend so much time with passionate, intelligent, interesting people... that had nothing to do with theatre. It was a nice change from spending all my time with passionate, intelligent, interesting theatre types. I love the theatre types, don't get me wrong. But I felt I was able to tap into a different side of myself by virtue of being with these other people - a side that I really love, but who doesn't get to come out and play much these days. What can I call her... Good Student Isabel? That's not right... but she's the one who enjoys lectures and group projects and doing well in class and playing well with others. She has her space at LISPA, too, but in a very different way. Maybe Academic Isabel is a more appropriate name. Anyway. It was really amazing to meet people that I share a non-theatre passion with. Very inspiring, and fun. It's a bit of a double-edged sword though, I have to admit, because whenever I bring up theatre (as a tool for development or otherwise) in a non-theatre group, I feel the need to justify myself. People don't take it seriously, or even if they don't dismiss it, they don't quite get it. Similarly, as far as I can tell I'm the only one at LISPA who has a real drive towards international development work. It's a little lonely feeling like noone shares your dream in the same way. But I suppose it's to be expected - as it is, my dream is far from definitively formulated, and I figure the more I am able to articulate what I want, the more people I'll find who fit into it. Or something.
Another battle within the Theatre or Development war is this: if I'm going to be completely honest, I think the theatre I want to make doesn't take place in (enter your developing country of choice here). I want to go to (developing country of choice), and I want to make theatre with them there to the ends of education and communication and joy, but that wouldn't be my theatre: it would be theirs. That's the point. But I want my theatre as well. I want my theatre company that tours the world and does amazing work. It feels selfish, and it brings up that age-old fear that if I choose theatre over peacework then I am a selfish person. And I think this colours my desire to use theatre towards peacework ends: "See? It's worthwhile! It's not just me having fun onstage! It can heal the world!" And it gets tricky, because I think theatre can. And does.
So what's my problem?
That to me, in this moment, using theatre as a tool for peace in the development world would mean that I would be a facilitator of that theatre. And that is important, and that interests me, and I would love to do that at some point, at many points. But I am always passionate about being theatre, making theatre, getting up to my elbows and experiencing and performing theatre, not only facilitating it for others.
Maybe it's a matter of finding space for all of these things.
Maybe I have a lifetime to figure it out.
Maybe this is why I haven't blogged since the workshop - I knew I would get out of control and write an ill-structured essay on My Existential Crisis of Purpose. Yikes.
Anyway. Back to the mundane.
I was also in a cycling accident this weekend. Long story short, my foot kicked off my pedal at the most inopportune of moments, got caught in my front wheel, and I almost got hit by a car. But didn't. But it was scary, and I fucked up my knee, and I've been limping all week. It's much better now, though, and the doctor said I didn't do any permanent damage - no fluid collection in the joint, and my kneecap is where it's meant to be - just hella lot of bruising. Needless to say(?), I've been taking the tube all this week.
We've also started working with masks in Commedia, and I gotta say, it looks like a lot of fun (my injury has kept me from participating in most of the exercises this week). Lots of solo themes wherein several very extreme states are travelled through, often to hilarious effect. (well, when it's done right...) I mean, don't get me wrong... it also looks INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT. But also like it would be fun. Says the girl who never volunteers. Because of her knee.
As a result of the commedia and extreme states of desire and urgency, our creation theme for the next two weeks is Lovers in a Hotel - wherein none of the lovers is there with their spouse, but their spouse manages to be there as well, with their own squeeze-on-the-side. Very farcical, slap-sticky, fun. And my group just happens to be made entirely of women, so we're having fun with our lesbian love-fest. It's kind of a blast. And by "kind of," I mean "totally."
What else? I may have won a trip for two to Italy and a digital camera. Meaning that I actually have won them - I have the winning pieces, but as they were given to me by a friend who didn't want to pay the £20 to claim the prizes (before he knew what they were), I feel like I should share. I'm going to talk to him today and let him know what [we've] won, and see if he wants one of the other. I kinda hope he doesn't want the trip to Italy, though :)
And that's it for my week. But that's enough. More than enough, for now.
Friday, 2 November 2007
Soooo tired
I'm exhausted. It's been a very busy, very draining week, and I feel... well, exhausted. And as excited as I am to be doing this peacework course tomorrow this weekend, I also wish I could have more time to rest.
We've been doing prep work for commedia this week. It's very fun, but immensely demanding, both physically and emotionally. Today Thomas took us through an exercise dubbed "Heaven or Hell" that required everyone to be onstage on their own for 45 seconds trying to convey that they'd just seen a miracle - an angel had appeared to them. It was actually immensely difficult. And today was a day that I would've been more than happy to simply observe, and of course it ended up being a day that we had huge personal challenging things asked of us. No hiding today. And of course I ended up in tears. Again. I'm getting so sick of being the girl that cries all the time.
Anyway. I'm well. I'm just really tired. I'm going to do my reading for my course, and then to bed. More news to follow...
We've been doing prep work for commedia this week. It's very fun, but immensely demanding, both physically and emotionally. Today Thomas took us through an exercise dubbed "Heaven or Hell" that required everyone to be onstage on their own for 45 seconds trying to convey that they'd just seen a miracle - an angel had appeared to them. It was actually immensely difficult. And today was a day that I would've been more than happy to simply observe, and of course it ended up being a day that we had huge personal challenging things asked of us. No hiding today. And of course I ended up in tears. Again. I'm getting so sick of being the girl that cries all the time.
Anyway. I'm well. I'm just really tired. I'm going to do my reading for my course, and then to bed. More news to follow...
Thursday, 1 November 2007
My Dream Life as an Artist
Remember my homework assignment from last week? It's done. As done as it can be at the moment, anyway.
It's a great thing to do. Everyone should do it. In fact, I'll make you a deal - if you do yours, I'll show you mine. And for those of you who've forgotten, here's the assignment:
Write freely and openly about your dream life (as an artist or otherwise.) What do you want to do? What's important to you? Everything from grand aspirations to income to pets can and should be included.
Part two, which is optional - list five specific obstacles you see standing in your way.
I will send mine to whomever sends me theirs.
It's a great thing to do. Everyone should do it. In fact, I'll make you a deal - if you do yours, I'll show you mine. And for those of you who've forgotten, here's the assignment:
Write freely and openly about your dream life (as an artist or otherwise.) What do you want to do? What's important to you? Everything from grand aspirations to income to pets can and should be included.
Part two, which is optional - list five specific obstacles you see standing in your way.
I will send mine to whomever sends me theirs.
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