A more detailed structure

Structure for my ten minute autobiographical Solo Performance

‘Have you ever done something that you know you shouldn’t?’ Story about anarchy gremlin vs rationality. Comic and stand-up-like stories of the gremlin. 3-4 minutes

Leads onto me wanting to be a teacher, and to do this you can’t have a criminal record, especially not for GBH/ABH or assault. ‘But this is what has bought me here, because the gremlin has got his way.’ Sat behind an interview desk in a police station because I assaulted a man who had previously sexually abused my disabled brother, but got away with it because of lack of evidence. I say attacked, the Gremlin took over and I beat the living snot out of the guy for as long as possible before being pulled off of him. ‘Why do they say “the red mist descended”? Its not a red mist, it’s complete pure and unadulterated hate, anger and evil. I felt like the devil himself was inside me taking out his violent and unbelievable fury out on this person. I don’t remember what I did, I was told afterwards. I blacked out, I was blind with fury and wrath.’ 1 minute

Dance interpretation of violent assault. 1 minute

Interview type situation with an unseen officer where I lose it and flip the table. With ‘You know what I wished every birthday and Christmas? But it ever came.’ And ‘When i was younger, other kids always asked for selfish things, I wanted something that wasn’t for me.’ Sketch. 2 minutes

Disabled movement around the stage. I can’t move unless I physically move my legs. 1 minute

Drink a whole can of beer, give some to audience. Why do I drink? Not for the social side, but to get closer to how my brother must be feeling. Monologue sketch ‘I’m fed up of....’ monologue, followed by ‘Ten thing I hate about you’ Monologue. 1 minute.

End with the song ‘Spasticus Autisticus’ by Ian Dury and the Blockheads, a celebration of disability. With a slide show of my brother during the song and lyrics along the bottom, and a thank you from him at the end. 1 minute

Feedback from Gemskii Rudd-Orthner, a visiting practitioner

Feedback from, and discussion with, Gemskii Rudd-Orthner.

·         Song- Sparticus Autisticus by Ian Dury, made for The Year of the Disabled in 1981

·         Arrested and in an interview scene for kicking off and punching someone. Don’t be apologetic and your anger is righteous anger.

·         Make the man I assaulted black (who is the same man that sexually abused your disabled brother), and call him a nigger so that I can show the same passion for racism as for disability discrimination.

·         Have a slide show of my brother at the end of the piece, it should be celebratory.

·         Discuss the insults I’ve seen towards him for being disabled, and what actions occurred.

·         Look at DV8’s A Cost Of Living on Youtube

·         I have the opportunity to defend my position as brother, defender, and attacker.

·         Show light and dark to make it balanced, not too dark all the time.

·         Start the interview with self righteous and justifiable anger.

·         If my brother could walk, what would I do with him? Where would we go?

·         Develop a monologue from the stimulus ‘I’m tired of...’ and see what comes out.

·         There is a scare around physicality and disability. Work with the idea of disability. Use triggers, like the arm that can’t move unless I move it myself. Pick up your own arm and leg, slow motion and awkward movement. Fade to the floor. I can’t move unless I make it move.

·         Have a temper in the rant, then ‘Do you know what I wished for at 3?’

·         Highlight ‘I’m tired of people using my brother like a piece of paper. Of thinking they can have sex with him because he won’t fight back. And you think I’m wrong for calling him a nigger?’

·         Juxtapose horror stories with tone, light hearted but horrible.

·         Stagger and dribble and look like you’re pissed, ‘actually I’ve got cerebral palsy.’

·         Have a thank you from Paul at the end. To the audience ‘thanks for watching my brother, if you see him in the street, please say hello to him.’ Even if they won’t understand him.

·         Surround yourself with beer cans, and say you get drunk because it makes you feel like I am more like my brother.

·         Ask yourself why I care so much, and what I want.

A rough script for the 1st section of my piece

Have you ever done something you know you shouldn’t?

We all do it, I do it all the time. The first time it occurred was when I was at school. I don’t have turrets or anything, but it kind of feels that way. I was sitting in an assembly, you know what it’s like, the person at the front is banging on about something and you’re bored when suddenly, out of nowhere, this voice pops into my head and I think, what’s to stop me from saying something or shouting out loud? Nothing. So why do it? I don’t know but I want to. The more I think about trying to ignore it, the worse the gremlin in my head gets. ‘Shout something rude’ says the gremlin who’s trying to take over all rational thought. I don’t want to shout anything rude. ‘Well just shout something. Anything. What’s stopping you? Do it. Go on, shout say something, anything.’ No. I don’t want to. ‘Do it, go on do it shout something rude, or say something, anything...’ SHEEP! I didn’t actually shout anything, I’ve managed to get the gremlin under control so far. He doesn’t come into my head all the time, but when he does it’s like a war going on inside my head! It’s like having that heaven and hell angel on my shoulders, but not quite as religious. It’s just this naughty gremlin that tries to get me to do something. It comes into my head at the most random times, like when I’m watching a really bad play and I’m bored. Out of the blue he creeps into my brain and I’m fighting it again, but it gets harder to fight him the more I deny him.

An example is when I went to Paris, I’ve only ever been once and I did the Eiffel tower. I don’t like heights at the best of times, but I went right to the top, and the view was gorgeous. But he turned up and made me think, yeah, I can scale that fence, jump over. It’s like at the top of the cliff, I don’t want to die, I just want to jump off. Hell, I’m not suicidal, I just want to jump off cos I know I’m not supposed to. I just have an impulse to do something rebellious.

That’s another thing the Gremlin has control of, he makes me do things, like ‘Do not touch the electric fence.’ I do. And now it doesn’t really shock me cos I’m so used to it! It’s why all the fire alarms at my old school have plastic covers over them, so that people like me don’t press them and blame it on accidentally tripping over and hitting it.

Its why I can’t go on planes. I pretend that I’m really really nervous, so the person who goes with me talks to me throughout the entire flight to distract me cos otherwise i’ll shout BOMB! I don’t mean to, it’s this bloody gremlin. Luckily I’ve only flew about 4 times in my life, and always with someone to distract me. It’s odd, I don’t get it on buses, or trains or the tube, just planes. But I have to let him win now and again otherwise it wells up and something bad happens.

The most recent time I let the Gremlin win was, do you know when you get cold callers? Well I kept getting the same company phoning me every day, and they even phoned me after I got arsey at them. They were selling me the most expensive and fancy conservatory ever, so I managed to keep the woman talking for just under an hour, expressing my interest in oak frames and double glazing with venetian blinds. I could hear her thinking ‘10% commission! Yes, I’m gonna have this bugger for all he’s worth.’ But she didn’t find it amusing when I asked her if they fit them to second floor flats!

My favourite time I let him win was last Christmas. Do you remember we had all that snow? Well I was going home for Christmas with my girlfriend on the train, but the snow had taken down some of the electric cables above the track, so there were only 4 trains running that day. We managed to get on one, and bloody hell, it was busy! We ran as fast as we could to get to the front of the train, we had tickets for coach E, but it didn’t appear to exist. So i thought, get to the end of the platform quickly and we should be able to get an unticketed seat. So we did, but it was rammed. I’m talking, like the tube at rush hour, but on a train. We got a seat each, not next to each other, but we could still chat down the aisle to each other. But I noticed there were people in the compartments between the trains, so I offered my seat to an elderly lady, that’s right, I’m something of a gentleman. Ladies, form an orderly queue. But she refused to take it. So I was sat next to the luggage rack which is over flowing, when this family about 12 comes from the other carriage. I thought they were looking for empty seats, but they had found their ticketed seats and started demanding people sat in them move. I wouldn’t have minded but the guy who seemed to be in charge was a dick. These were proper upper middle class people with double barrelled surnames, called Tarquin, Humphrey, Penelope and Felicity. I thought, yeah, let the kids sit down but don’t demand your seats, we’re all on the same journey and you’re carting some old people out of their seats, stand for a bit you lazy sod! But no, the old people went off to find other seats and they got their seats ‘that we have reserved so we fully expect to sit in them.’ So they put all their luggage in front of the already full rack, and blocked the aisle. Then a young woman came to get something out of her suitcase for a baby she’d got in her arms, she’d left his brother, only about 4, in a seat further back, and she was struggling to get to her suitcase. Then the snob family harped up saying some sefl-righteous shit, ‘be careful with that suitcase, it has valuable in.’ So, being the gentleman, I asked her if she wanted help and she said thanks and gave me the baby. I was gonna get the suitcase for her, but she just handed me, a complete stranger her baby. I didn’t mind, but I looked like a prat holding this baby cos i have no experience with little ones. Anyway, she got some books and some baby food to keep her kids entertained, and I helped her back to her seat cos she couldn’t carry the baby and her stuff. On the way back I walked past the snob family who were all playing with their electronic gadgets, the dads all seemed to have an ipad each and the kids had gameboys or whatever they are. Then the poor woman pulling the food trolley came into the carriage but she couldn’t get past all the suitcases on the floor. She said she wasn’t allowed to move them, so I got up and put them all on my seat so she could get past. With complaints again from Tarquin because he had valuables in his bag. She got past and I put the suitcases back on the floor. Then when she got to the double barrelled fox hunting pillocks with the cart, Felicity and Tarquin lead a verbal attack on this poor stressed out trolley worker woman, demanding they have her name so that they could complain about her because she’d ran out of Kitkats for the snobby little brats. After that all blew over, and we’d been on the train for about an hour, one of the old people took my seat and I stood chatting to Melissa when I saw that the snobs had about 3 spare seats between them that they weren’t using, 4 if you include Tarquins cos he had been stood next to his kids for most of the journey. So I politely asked them if they weren’t using them could they offer it to the people sat on the floor? They were, predictably, dicks and insisted that they had booked the seats and would use them as they saw fit. So it was with immense satisfaction that I let the Gremlin win. Just before we got off the train I saw Humphrey put his Ipad at the top of his suitcase, so when I pulled mine from the top shelf, I ‘accidentally’ dropped my suitcase onto where I assumed his ipad would be. Well, it made a satisfying crack when it happened.

2 – 5 minute developed piece

2 – 5 minute developed piece

Have you ever done something you know you shouldn’t?

A Structure to expand on

1-      Started in Assembly when I was younger, I wanted to shout rude words

2-      Developed onto exams

3-      It’s like a heaven and hell angel that I have to let win sometimes, but it can be controlled

4-      I realised it was bad when I got to the top of a tall building or cliff and wanted to jump. I wasn’t suicidal, I just want to do it because I know I shouldn’t. I don’t want to die, I love living, but it’s just a stupid rebellious thing to do.

5-      Like ‘don’t touch the electric fence.’ If someone told me I had to touch it, I wouldn’t.

6-      It’s why fire alarms at school now have plastic covers. I’m not saying it was me, just I don’t think I was the only one!

7-      Quad run – elaborate on it.

8-      Most recent, cold callers. Annoyed a man trying to sell me a conservatory, and a woman who asked if I had had an accident that wasn’t my fault.

9-      Favourite thing to do that I shouldn’t, the guy on the train! Finish, punch line-esque last story. Elaborate.

My attempt at a documentary/verbatim style of monologue

This is my take on a documentary piece of writing. I used song lyrics from a band called Snow Patrol and rearranged them to make a poem/story. It is based on the awe you feel when you realise there is something bigger than you at work in the universe. For me, I find this awe on the edge of a storm and when I experience love. Which is why this piece refers so much to relationships and the weather.

Adverse weather protectors

It scares me more everyday,

We don’t need anything or anyone.

I don’t quite know how to say how I feel,

I need your grace to remind me to find my own.

All that I am, all that I ever was, is here in your perfect eyes.

I could sit here for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute,

It’s been minutes it’s been days, it’s been all I will remember

Your laughter penetrates my silence,

Your words in my memory are like music to me,

I’m running out of ways to make you see.

There’s nothing holding you back,

It’s not a test or a trick the mind,

It’s so simple and you know it is.

I can feel your heart beat through my shirt,

I’ve been waiting here pulling out my hair,

As long as you can see what’s right in front of you,

Leave us in pieces, scattered everywhere,

There is a darkness deep within you.

It’s hard to argue when you won’t stop making sense

Why would I sabotage the best thing that I have.

I wanna hear you laugh like you really mean it

I want the smoky clouds of laughter to swim about me forever more

I take a breath and grab the phone

I knew it would hurt you, but not like this. We all make mistakes from time to time.

Running away seemed like the easy thing to do because I wanted to put a smile back on your face

I was afraid to tell you some things but some things all find a way to get told

Now the pessimism in me yawns.

With nowhere else to run now, just stay and face the music

To come through with a plan of how the hell we turn this around

You’ve been the only thing that’s right in all I’ve done

I can barely look at you but every single time I do

Even if you cannot hear my voice

Your broken records and words

I love this place enough to have no doubt.

But we’re all gluttons for it.

Tell me you never wanted more from this and I will stop talking now

By the fire we break the silence

Just close your eyes until you can imagine this place, our secret space

And falling gently on the cushion

I left a note at your bedside

You leave me numb and I’m not sure why

My heart is bursting in your perfect eyes

I struggle for the words and the give up

The perfect words never crossed my mind cos there was nothing in there but you

I could be stuck here for a thousand years without your arms to drag me out

There you are standing right in front of me and all this fear falls away

The only resolution and the only joy is the faint spark of forgiveness in your eyes

I choked back tears today because I can’t begin to say how much you’ve shaped this boy

You give me a strength I never had, I was a mess, I’d lost the plot but you dragged me up and out

There’s not a single doubt when I see your face

The blind lead the blind so why cant I find my way, this could be heaven but I don’t know where I am

The anger swells in my guts

Take my hand and knot your fingers through mine

The blanket of sky is so warm

But you’re too fragile to hold

Your eyelids they’re faint and shiver like the wings of the last bird to leave

I can’t move, I can barely breathe, speechless, breathless, I can’t tell you if I’m here or not

I won’t leave you out of my world but I will leave you out of my mind

Don’t be scared of all the hurtful words

Just treat me like a stolen glance

I’m not afraid of anything, even time

You know I’ll think of you, your picture on the wall, I would raise my drink to you, but I’ve stayed sober just for you

Please don’t go crazy if I tell you the truth, you don’t know what happened and you never will

Say the first thing that comes into your head when you see me

I noticed a change in your voice, it’s so clear

Just because you were right before, doesn’t mean you’re right

When to take the hint, broken glass aside

It’s the same thing again, but it could become a problem if we don’t deal with it now

I’m broken and colder than hell

Forget this whole row, just save your energy

Are you ready for the shit to hit? I should try to make it right

I’d be lying to myself, but there is no way that I can see

There’s a dark side in us all

Is there a place I can go, is there a light to get me there

If I’ve forgotten what to say it’s because all words are dust

What do you mean I don’t love you? I’m standing here aren’t I?

I’ve got this feeling that there’s something that I’ve missed

I wince a little but it’s not because I know the truth

Half the fun of it is that I can’t keep up and I lose my breath and what’s worse is that I don’t think I’m the first

Please believe me, just stop running

One step too far isn’t far enough away from here

Maybe if I could see exactly what was in your way I’d move it for you, don’t always need to do it by yourself

I saw everything, things I hoped I’d never see

You could get arrested for getting your kit off in the street, how many times have I told you

Your gravity makes me feel light-headed

Maybe I’m unbalanced

Cut my eyes out so I can’t see your smug grin

I wish I had a penny for every time you gave me those eyes

If I could understand this better I might be a little closer to you

When summer falls asleep and winter plucks your strings, the colder you get

You’re my favourite friend and I adore you, love you to the end

With our secret codes and plans we can’t remember

At least the dog has a smile on its face, I’m drained and I’m dry and I’m sore

I think I’ve been broken in two but I can’t scream

Understand me when I say

I don’t know what I’m thinking

I break, you don’t. I was always set to self destruct though

The sea between us only amplifies the sound waves, every hum and echo and crash pains me

The opened box beside the endless box parade that haunts my house is fit to split with photographs that tell the wanderlust of years smashed

I rack my brains but it won’t come through water damaged bloodshot eyes

I read your names under words in your elegant hand you probably don’t mean now

I fold the letter ad think of a million and one things that I could have done differently

And I’m shaking, when your eyes meet mine I lose simple skills

I’m just not the same as I was a year ago and each minute since then

Only the faintest glance buries you

Caught in a jet stream of a gorgeous howl

I’m like a prisoner getting ready to talk

It can’t contain me but you’ll need an army to get me back in my box

Just for a minute the silver forked sky lit you up like a star that I will follow

Every single day that I’m living painted flames all peeling thunder

These accidents of faith and nature they tend to stick in the spokes of you, but every now and then the trend bucks and you’re repaired by more than glue

Something was bound to go right sometime today, all these broken piece fit together to make a perfect picture of us.

I know more of the stars and sea than I do of what’s in your head

No one knows what this fight is about

I tried to tell you before I left but I under my breath I was screaming

You are the only thing that makes sense

And all the things that I wished I had not said are played in loops ‘til it’s madness in my head

More than anything I want to see you take a glorious bite out of the whole world

We’ve got through so much worse than this before, what’s so different this time that we can’t ignore

Hit me hard enough to wake me

My tongue is lost so I can’t tell you, please just see it in my eyes

The snow and ticker tape blurs all my senses numb, it’s like the finish line where everything just ends

I think the finish line’s a good place we could start

Just have to look me in the eyes and I fall apart

You look so fragile I could break

But the truth is I’m just as scared

And suddenly the world seems so small

To ever see the light that you gave

And all your stars collapsed behind the pitch black night.

Reading week 7

Reading – Week 7

Jeffries, S. (2009) ‘Sophie Calle: stalker, stripper, sleeper, spy.’ Guardian. 23/09/09.

Stuart Jeffries

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·         This piece discusses Jeffries’ interview with Sophie Calle, a French conceptual artist. The interview began with her revealing her date of birth, then talking about her life for ten hours which was ‘unspeakably dull’. However, Jeffries highlights some of the most interesting points of the conversation, such as the roles and projects she took upon herself. Calle says she wanted to impress her father, who she did not know because she had been living with her mother and grandparents. Calle reveals controversial stories about Baudrillard, who faked her diploma so that she passed. This brings into question the morals of performance, and what to reveal in performance art.

·         The first project discussed results in The Sleepers, a photographic and textual form of documentary art. It began with Calle stalking people and following them during their day, which then moved on to Calle documenting visitors to her bed, the conversations and photos documenting friends and strangers who shared her bed. Calle didn’t think this was conceptual art until somebody asked her ‘Is this art? It could be.’

·         The second project has Calle follow a man to Venice and document his coming and going from a house. This resulted in a book called Suite Venitienne. These works were not intended as art, but it electrified the French art world.

·         Calle published a book called The Striptease, which included pictures and anecdotes of her stripper career. She admits to being a feminist who feared ‘being psychologically destroyed by the look of others.’ She stripped to make money, but refused to go into prostitution.

·         Her most controversial work Address Book had Calle photocopy a lost address book and return it to its owner, but to follow up the contacts to get an image of the owner. The project was published by a newspaper but the owner of the address book threatened to sue over invasion of privacy.

·         Calle plays with opposites, like control and freedom, choice and compulsion, intimacy and distance.

·         A piece of art was constructed around Calle’s trip to the North Pole where she buried her deceased mother’s photograph, diamond ring and Chanel necklace.

·         Calle wrote a book called Exquisite Pain which was catalysed by a series of painful breakups. It also included other people’s worst memories so that her pain seemed more bearable. Take Care Of Yourself was prompted too by a breakup of a relationship, which ended through an email ending ‘take care of yourself’. She invited 107 women to analyse this email and an art instillation concluded.

Calle brings into question ethics and morals in performance. Her art work is based on and around autobiographical experiences, but she reveals controversial stories, like Baudrillard helping her with her fraudulent diploma. She believes this is acceptable because he has now passed away, but it belittles any other diploma received from him. Also, stalking and stripping are controversial issues that she plays with, but with seemingly little regard for the victims of stalking. She names individuals in her work, and though it may be her personal experience that she is sharing with the world, she is also leaving these people vulnerable and exposed, such as the man she stalked and photographed who threatened to sue. Though her work might not be offensive or controversial, she names people involved in her life. There is a faint line in performance with regards to ethics and morals, and though Calle does not cross it, she toes the line repeatedly. This makes me question what and who to name or include in my own performance, and the ethical and moral implications of naming and portraying them.

Reading week 6

Reading – Week 6

Bonney, J. (2000). Extreme Exposure: An Anthology of Solo Performance Texts from the Twentieth Century. New York: Theatre Communications Group.

TIM MILLER

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Miller has a history of political activism, but his performance is about gay rights and autobiographical social struggle for identity as a gay man, and how society sees him, how he conforms to or denies this social identity he has been given. His work is aimed at marginalized people, students, gay men etc. His work is highly interactive and uncovers the violence that is inflicted upon gay men, and the violence which gay men inflict upon themselves. He looks at the conflict between how he portrays himself and how society says he should be portrayed. He connects to his audience through his body.

Spilt Milk

This piece is about Miller looking back at the time when he was 19, and decided to travel to San Francisco to explore his independence as a gay man in society. The piece is funny, sad, shocking and very descriptive. He sets up the autobiographical story with dates, times, places etc and continues with amusing sidelines and political statements. He discusses the vulnerability of hitch-hiking, the pressure he felt as a child of parents who fought in the hippie/antiwar/cultural revolution ten years ago. He discusses his self doubt and the potential for homosexual change, and the sense of a potential utopia around the corner. He tells us of a utopian farm he attended, which turned out to be a sect/cult that he did not belong to. Broccoli is used as a comic theme that crops up as his life in San Francisco develops. He compares the utopian farm to a Nazi death camp, and it is both humorous and terrifying. He discusses his choice to go to the farm as a bad one. He piece is sexually explicit, it mocks society, law, religion and the people he hitch-hikes with. He knows, as a gay man, he is on the margins of society, and feels good being at the literal edge, on a beach, where he meets Michael. The piece ends in a dark and twisted manner, his dreams are dashed when he finds out the gay politician whom he had rested his hopes on had been murdered. His utopian society has been crushed and put back a few years.