Artist Statement.

There are few things in life every human being on this planet has in common – we are all born, we all live and we all die. We all have emotions, a brain, a heart, lungs to breathe in the good and out the bad. We have senses – perhaps not all of them, but we can all experience some form of them. We would all die without water, nutrition and sunlight. This is not debatable but fact. But what about the other stuff? The not so scientific stuff that we all share in between all this breathing and heart beating and thinking. What about living?

It is true that in between birth and death we experience something. It is also true that this something is different for every single human being and that there lies endless reasons and factors which could change this experience. But the impact that these actions have is one thing we all have in common. There are few people in the world who would never have had a negative experience. An emotional blip. A physical manifestation. Whether this is through our emotional memory or our own skin, this negativity seems to stay as a lasting reminder. Our once perfect self becomes damaged and changed forever. In rare cases, they fade and disappear. But in many forms, they stay. My aim within this show was to give this negativity a voice. And show the world that scars, however big or small, are unique, beautiful and miraculous.

I will easily admit that this show would not exist without its audience. That is not so much in the sense of someone to watch its message, but someone to provide it. There is little power in one voice, but there is great power with many voices. And this is exactly what we harnessed. In a style based upon verbatim, we collected over 40 scar stories from those willing to share. Our initial intentions was to take the bare essentials of these stories – the location of the scar and a small sentence as to its existence – to create our piece. Instead what we discovered was the beauty of language. Each scar story collected was written by its host and this provided us with individual and unique language that seemed too good to disregard. Some stories were said with pride from wounds and incidents which had greatly affected the individual, whilst others were not so willing (in this case, a simple nudge was needed.) What this proved was the delicacy in which the show was to be constructed. From an ethical perspective, it could not cause offence to those who shared with us. Nor could it cause judgement from the audience or the individual themselves, who may have regretted sharing if this were to be the case. From a creative perspective, the script needed to show the honesty behind each story and echo its true essence. Our unique voices must not become lost in the crowd. Not only this, but those who provided the stories should also be granted special thanks. An emotional reward perhaps, for those who shared would then have the experience of seeing their story played out on a stage as well as the audiences response to it. In one specific case, a woman whose scar caused her embarrassment gained a sense of acceptance after seeing it present in the piece. Through the simple power of giving a voice to her experience, she was able to change her perspective. Flick the switch from bad to good. No matter how many stories we collect and present, there will always be examples of this. Theatre should be an experience, audiences should not be watchful robots bound by expected etiquette and restraint. Instead they should be equal contributors, admirers and participants. What this show achieved was an embodiment of this ethos with its audience free to share and communicate their scars at the end of the show, marking it physically on an image for all to see. This contribution not only allowed for an after show discussion which could last longer than the performance itself, but also material for future shows. More scars to share. More stories to create and more voices to tell. And by doing so, more flicked switches. Not only did our audience build the show, but they will continue to give it an endless lasting presence and power.

As for my own learning, there is simply not enough words. This show has brought me back to my own heart and what I truly feel performance should be. It should have a message behind it, an essence of truth even if the material is nothing more than fiction. I place myself at the Stanislavskian end of the acting spectrum as I only ever aim to present truth to my audiences, through my own emotional manipulation as well as my instincts and gut reactions. Performing this piece allowed me to do so, creating characters from emotional language and techniques which meant truth was always at the core. What we both discovered, through sheer accident, was a formula for creating our own style of verbatim which was extremely successful. Finding a subject, sharing the role of collecting raw material, identifying themes in order to bundle this material together, editing and manipulation to keep the essence of individual language and an instinctive rehearsal process. When combined, the result was an organised script, solid choreographed movement and a strong, clear message. Through this formula, I also learnt that there must always be a balance between the visual and dialogue. Too many words spoil the creative broth, as does an overload of visual images without coherence or emphasis. By having two people speaking over 40 separate stories it can be easy to become lost in either of these aspects. However, our choice of synchronised and stylised minimal movement and physicality allowed our words to have their emphasis. The space was also minimal, with one block of light showing the distinction between audience and performer and four chairs as our set. Instead of seeming unfinished this aided in allowing a flow between style, image and language. It is something I have never attempted or successfully achieved, but has now become something I wish to keep within our trademark. Although this paragraph of reflection does the show some justice, I feel the best way to truly express what I have learnt is through a list (much in the style of Gomez – Pena) of my own advice to both my future creative self and you, a fellow creator.

1. Don’t be precious – there will always be ideas but not all belong in a single show. Don’t be afraid to scrap them. What you can’t get in this one will simply fuel the next.
2. Always encourage your audience to break their boundaries for they hold creative power.
3. Reward them too. They are the reason you are here.
4. Make a change. Theatre must always have an impact upon those it draws in.
5. Act the way your heart tells you too. If you don’t feel like a performance artist then don’t be one. There is nothing wrong with holding onto your own artistic beliefs if it allows you to be at your highest level of expression.
6. In order to create with another, there must always be a level of mutual respect and encouragement. If the show is going a way you don’t like, find a middle ground. You aren’t always right.
7. Research is everything. Those who came before you all stood where you are, use them for inspiration and guidance. It could mean you sidetrack mistakes.
8. Find a suitable space which you can create in. Distracting rooms make for bad rehearsal spaces.
9. Not everyone will understand your vision. But that’s okay.
10. Practise what you preach. If you are asking for other’s experiences then contribute your own too. It’s only fair.
11. Share everything. Refinement and perfection comes from opening up to others.
12. There must always be a balance between image, language and movement. Maybe not equal, but they must counteract one another.
13. If you stumble upon a formula that works, stick with it. It could become your trademark. But don’t ever let it hinder your creative flow. If it stops working, adapt.
14. Plan plan plan plan. Lists are wonderful creations and mean that your run up to show week can be free of stress (to a certain degree of course!)
15. Don’t be afraid to show your vulnerability. It is what makes you human.

Embody is truly one of my proudest achievements. It revived my inner actor as well as my own morals and beliefs of why theatre exists, which to me is simply this – take something small, bring it to life and let it breathe on stage, for its aftermath could be gloriously rewarding.

Embody.

Scarification

Although some people may think that the art of scarification – whereby the skin is deliberately cut or peeled away to allow for a healed permanent image on the body – is relatively new. Western society has adopted this style as an extreme step up from tattoos and piercings which have taken common place amongst society over recent years. However, this art form dates back to a century previous and was celebrated most amongst the tribes of Africa, Ghana and The Congo.

Scarification was used as a way to autobiographically and ritualistically present the individuality of a person to another. This can range from puberty to marriage, hunting to war kills and even the attractiveness of a tribesperson. Women who had scarified their stomachs and breasts showed a willingness to bear children, proving their pain levels were high enough to encounter childbirth and its lasting effect on the body. Men would scar their arms, torso and faces to show masculinity and strength, many who became hunters or warriors would scar themselves after every kill, preserving their achievements to present to fellow males.

The art of creating these scars involved cutting the skin and forcing clay or ash into the wound which would create raised and defined marks once healed. Methods vary depending on the tribe, meaning scars also became a way of identifying a person to their habitat and region.

What interests me most is in the juxtaposition of these scars. Whereas Western society mostly choose to live lives without scars, the tribes folk of Africa use them as an achievement and celebration of a live well lived and assets attained through experience and rituals.

For more images, see http://www.ezakwantu.com/Gallery%20Scarification.htm

Kira O’Reilly

When beginning to discover the artistic world of scars, one woman appeared who has defined herself as a scarification artist and creator. Kira O’Reilly is a UK based performer who has been creating art installations using her own body as a canvas. Her show entitled ‘Bad Humour/affected’ from 1998 centres around self scarring through the use of leeches. Dressed only in a five foot long white skirt which covers the entire lower half of her body, she places herself in a gallery setting, kneeling on the floor and folding her body over exposing her back. She then has an assistant apply leeches to her bare skin, which then begin to suck at her blood until they release themselves, leaving bullet size holes which pour with blood and cover her skirt. This endurance piece deliberately evokes discomfort in her audience, who are drinking blood coloured red wine and visibly witness the artist bleed for up to four hours. In her own words, O’Reilly “invokes notions of trauma and stigma towards a “spoiling” or opening of the body suggesting otherness.”

In another show, ‘Succour’ from 2002 Kira sits alone and naked on a chair covered in a white sheet. She then begins to cover her legs and torso with masking tape creating a series of grids. She then makes a small incision with a scalpel into each of these grids and removes the tape to reveal a pattern of small cuts. This literal wounding is controlled and precise and shows strong imagery to those watching. It can be seen as a message or metaphor for disclosure and tenderness, or a comment on the fragility of the human body. What interest me most is how Kira choose to do this – scarring herself and physically bleeding for her audience to portray her own explorative views on scars and their meanings.

 

So, what next?

And just like that my immersive journey ends. Christmas and most of January passed by in an essay writing – researching – portfolio creating blur (plus a wonderful day eating nut roast in the North Wales countryside with my other half and his family) and now, already I find myself in February. As far as creativity goes, my collective efforts with Emily are continuing. Surprising for both of us, we seem to have a great working balance which proved successful in our previous endeavours. And why break up a good thing after all?

Two weeks ago, our second performance module began. We had already been discussing ideas and now those are finally in place. Our previous show Awaken focused on the mind, emotions and memories. Internalised and supressed secrets. Our roles as facilitators were something we found slightly disconnecting, despite believing so greatly in our project. And so our roles are now reversed. Our aims for the second show focus on audience participation once more, but through collected verbatim style research which will be used as direct stimulus for our performance. Our subject – scars. All of which have a story and none of which are ever the same. By collecting the stories of those scars, we aim to present them back to people in a performance which celebrates their uniqueness and beauty. Our own selves will be the centre of the show, with these scars drawn on ourselves, creating a map like image. No story is ever too boring and no scar is ever too negative. We intend to discover as many as we can and reawaken our audience to their own bodies and individuality. So, let the research begin.

Awaken Mission Statement.

Consider this a mission statement. What you have just been a part of is a project we have worked on extensively since late September. From then till now, it has been structured, moulded, reshaped and emptied. Slowly, it became the very thing you have just experienced.

We began with several aims – to entertain, enlighten, educate, illuminate and experience the world we live in through our own humanities. We aimed to show our audience that no human can ever be opposite, for we all share a soul, memories, heart, thoughts, mind, spirit and inner strength. We wanted to free you from your burdens using your human connections – your senses. We wanted the control not to lie with us, but with our audience. To let them change our own natural setting. This is something, of course, we hoped to have achieved.

As well as this, we also wish to share what it is we have learnt. From an academic perspective, your participation will allow us to grow as researchers, developers, performers, practitioners, curators and academics. From a more personal side, we have learnt not to be precious, to share our ideas and give them room to grow, to believe in our visions and place our hearts and energy into something in order to create beauty.

As immersive theatre is entirely based around those who take part – we would like to thank you for creating with us and sharing parts of your true selves.

 

So, how did it go?

Where on earth do I begin? Having neglected this blog since the end of November, I feel like I have to now re-enacted every tiny detail of the show which took over my life for three months.

Not long before the show, me and Emily sat down and attempted to name our creative child. Eventually, the project became known as ‘Awaken’, something we hoped to spiritually achieve for our audience. The entire show week was a blur of collage making, prop collecting, space designing and sound sourcing. The dress run took place two days before and definitely enlightened us to the strong areas we had accidentally neglected and the flaws of certain elements. We were incredibly lucky to have participants who were willing and open to give constructive feedback which helped immensely with the final show.

In the end, what we presented was a room of our own manipulative creation, free from distractions and focused on senses and emotions. The space was filled with atmospheric music and tables complete with props and objects which would evoke memories and emotional responses to our audience. As for our role, we were facilitators to begin with, guiding our audience through a blindfolding sensory experience in which they stepped barefoot on water, cold air, heat, sand, leaves and paper. We then placed ourselves in a cupboard, which acted like a confessional in which our audience would enter and tell us their secrets to a Dictaphone. Infra red cameras caught their faces and projected it on the floor of our main space for the others to see and grow ever more curious. Once recorded, these secrets were shared with the others who chose their importance. Small cards were hidden in the shoes of our participants, a small reminder of the journey they took part in.

Overall, it is hard to look back and judge the success of the show without knowing the feedback from those marking it. After all, it was an academic assessment, (eep!) However, in my head and my heart we achieved what we set out to. Each audience member responded uniquely and opened their minds to us. Together we collaborated and shared an experience which I will always hold as a strong creative achievement. My performance head tells me that it wasn’t the right path for me though. It was the first show I had ever performed where my adrenaline levels never peaked, I felt completely relaxed and in control, my heart beat never raised and my head was clear. It served as a reminder that performing is where my heart truly lies and although I allowed my audience into my world, next time I want to share it with them.

Masks.

What is the meaning of a mask? Do you wear it to embody another soul? Or hide yourself? Or present your thoughts about another culture? Or embrace that culture? Or being invisible? Or open your mind?

These are the questions we find ourselves asking. What is it that makes a mask set a certain message and which mask would encourage exploration and empower the person wearing it?

Is it a commedia dell’arte mask of Zanni (or servant) which Punchdrunk use? Or something more complex such as the Kathakali masks of Indian theatre? Or should it be basic? Perhaps a Venetian masquerade eye mask? And despite the mask, how would the audience feel wearing them? Should we also be masked?

So many questions, so little time.

Felix Barrett’s Mind.

There is one double barrelled word which the MA Performance students at Chester have been told many many times by us. A company which stands out more than any other, intriguing and engaging with our curiosity and intertwining and influencing our creative minds… They are of course, Punchdrunk Theatre Company.

To put it simply, we are like moths to their creative flame. Over the past few weeks, whenever it has been mentioned that our piece is audience participatory, this name has popped up again and again, for both sheer beauty and intense explorations of themes and concepts. Today, I decided to read up on their artistic director, Felix Barrett, aiming to learn why he decided to dedicate his mind to this type of theatre. What I found has enlightened me further.

In an interview on 99u.com he speaks of bringing the audience back to a “primal space” free from social networking and documenting as we live, instead of being present in our world and experiences. Instantly I found myself nodding as I read. I wanted to go “YES FELIX. YES WE SHOULD.”

Barrett then describes his intentions when creating an immersive piece of theatre, something we have always struggled to put into a simple sentence. He says “We’re trying to empower the audience by making them feel like they’re the most important person in the space, and that they’re doing something they shouldn’t be and the more they work the more they’ll discover.” This 1000% coincides with our intentions, for as the weeks progress we have begun to unravel a structure which was bulletproof into something much more free, where mistakes can and will be made, but that is part of the beauty.

He says that “because everything [in modern society] is so accessible, nothing is treasured. So we need to find those little gems that only we own and that are ours and ours alone. We feel proud of those moments that live in our memories and that can only be COMMUNICATED by talking about them.” Another gold dust moment which describes our piece perfectly. What we are aiming to capture with our audience is their own humanity, fragility and even vulnerability but by allowing their personal and secret moments to be free and out within the space, a part of them changes and they become human again. They forget about their text messages or their job or what they want to eat for lunch and just focus on what they have within themselves. It sounds a hard task and we are aware of it, but if Felix believes it too, we know our work and message has meaning.

Finally, Felix gives simple advice.. “Do it. Don’t talk about it, don’t hypothesize about it – just do it.” And do you know what? We absolutely will.

Article can be found here: 99u.com/articles/7215/felix-barrett-on-pushing-the-limits-of-curiosity-and-comfort-zones

Gob Squad

One of the most enjoyable parts of this entire immersive projects has been the discovery of other companies, all of whom have their own unique variation of this hidden theatre form. One company I have recently discovered with a recommendation by theatre practitioner Mole Wetherall is Gob Squad.

A mixture of British and German actors, the company has been running since 1994 and is now based in Berlin. Their company message is made clear from the very beginning… “we make performances and videos which search for beauty in the everyday, and look for words of wisdom from a passing stranger.” Their previous projects are all extremely different from one another but each have a common ground in that their audience is treated as a secondary actor, invited to explore and expand their thinking alongside the actors. Much like the mottos of many immersive companies, Gob Squad never wish their audience to be a collective – instead they allow for individuality within their spectators responses. Another common ground is that they also use urban and every day settings for their pieces which include shop windows, hotels, underground train stations and a normal public street. They use modern technology – especially cameras but not excessively. I actually felt that many of their projects would have worked equally as well without, but this is just a matter of opinion – to allow another layer of audience interaction.

One project in particular held resonance with me – Room Service. This was an installation which took place over one night.Set in a hotel room with two male and two female actors in separate rooms and the audience held in a conference room in the same building, the piece explores human life through the use of an interactive film. The audience watched all four actors simultaneously on screen whilst they battled to kill time and make it through the night. The only contact the actors have with their audience is through a phone line, which audience members ring throughout the night, hearing stranger and more eccentric demands from the actor they are speaking to. What made me drawn to this was the idea of keeping the audience at a distance and yet having them entirely immersed. They also allowed the mask of control – by making the audience think they could manipulate the actor on the other end of the phone line, when realistically the piece would have been cleverly staged. Its discovering projects like this which inspire and remind me that my own piece has depth and meaning.

What I’ve taken most from this company is the sheer simplicity in which they present their work. Their message is clear and usually their choice of titles reflect the questions they wish to highlight for eg. “what are you looking at?” “who are you wearing?” “where do you want to go to die?” They strip back to the bare minimum the ideas of theatre and blur the lines between presenting an art form and truly living it.