An outside eye - working with Ellie Harrison

On Friday 15 February I had a very different, but no less productive, day with Ellie Harrison at The Carriageworks.

Ellie is acting as an outside eye on the show and I find her particularly helpful when it comes to thinking about the ideas and especially about the structure of the piece. We spent a lot of time pouring over the various bits of 'material', written, tried and tested, physical, musical and totally untried to get a sense of what I have. There was a lot.

Ellie asked a lot of probing questions including the hardest of all to answer; "What am I trying to say?"

She told me that I was being too harsh on myself and at the same time not hard enough... And yet, I still think maybe she was going a little easy on me. A lot of the material I have is too similar. It treads a lot of the same ground. We teased out a number of themes that play nicely together and I feel that there could be a strong 30-40 minutes in there. It was one of those days where you spend a lot of time re-arranging pieces of paper into a coherent order of sorts. And we did, for the most part, but there is still a rather large question mark over the end of the piece and consequently over my head.

What am I trying to say that I haven't already said? What is the big finish? Could that possibly be all there is to say?

I need to spend some time running in what I have and seeing if it works off the page as well it does laid out on a floor or in my head. I'm happy to say that the opening section from the very first Scratch seems to be holding strong as a nice foundation.

I'm looking forward to showing the first 20 minutes in a few weeks at First in Three at Northern Stage. I'm pretty sure that is the best test for the material. Especially if I mean what I say in the copy I wrote; I can't do it without an audience.

In the meantime, I have a photo shoot for the publicity image (and my website...) and lots to think about/try. Wish me luck.

Flying solo...

It's not a new concept. In many ways I have been going solo for a long time. I'm just usually doing it with other people.

I know I'm not making much sense. What else in new?

It's just that I'm trying to get away from the day job, the daily grind. Especially now that my daily grind has nothing to do with what I know best. Theatre. So, how do I change that? I have already begun a little light freelancing for Theatre in the Mill and every week this is like a breath of fresh air. They are such passionate, creative and, dare I say, eccentric people. Just the kind of people I want to be working with. I'm also making The Reservation with Ellie in my 'spare' time.

These are the things that make me feel alive and so I'd like to do more. Of both if I can. More freelance work for theatres and theatre makers, more performance work with gorgeous, wildly creative people like Ellie and Pete.

The CV's (all three of them!) are up to date, the portfolio is being updated... And so begins the long and, I imagine, painful road of applying and applying for jobs, meeting people, networking and looking very hard to find that work which I so badly want.

Wish me luck.

A virtual protest

I am not much of a drawer but this is my pitiful attempt at a #virtualprotest banner.

Uploaded to http://virtualprotest.org.uk/ in a show of solidarity for those who went to London today in an attempt to have their voices heard regarding the frightening cuts this government are imposing, across the board, that will have a detrimental effect on the future of our country and hit the poorest the hardest.

These are the things I fear the most for but I appreciate that the emergency services, local goverment and the NHS have also been hit hard and we must not give up fighting for any of them.

The author of this post is responsible for this post

I saw The Author by Tim Crouch on Friday. Four nights ago and I still can't stop thinking about it. Which is good. I haven't been quite so interrupted by a piece of theatre in a long time.

I am unsettled.

I thought I was prepared. I knew a little about this play with no action. I knew I would be confronted, challenged and prompted to think about my place in it. I feared it would be more direct and in my face. I was anxious before I arrived. I knew that people had walked out. But were they plants? All of them? I knew the performers would be seated amongst us. What I could never have predicted is my reaction to the performance.

I was so removed. Uncomfortable, fearful but somewhat removed from the words (they're only words right?) for the majority of the show. Fascinated by the audience seated opposite me, by the artist (and director) in my eyeline waiting for him to speak (which he did not) who was watching us (me?) and the unfolding drama.

I won't reveal the conclusion but I will say that it was shocking. Perhaps I was extra shocked being wrenched from my comfortable distance? And I felt guilty. Even as I was watching The Author saying the words I knew to be un(real)true, I felt guilty. Could I have stopped this? Really? It's a play, right? I wanted to get my money's worth. Don't we all? We want to hear the story, from beginning to the gruesome end. That is the point. Not our fault. So the author's then?

Hmmm... interesting. Still thinking.

Why buy art?

As a marketing officer I often have to think about the whys and wherefores of what people spend their money on.

At the moment I am pondering why people do (or do not) buy art. Mainly because I am working towards an art sale at work. We've done them before and as part of our commitment to developing artists and contributing to the arts market it has always made sense. And yet I don't think we ever really wondered about who would buy and why. As people who work in the arts and even own a few artworks it seem natural. We understand the value of a crafted piece of work above an Ikea print. So why don't other people?

Don't get me wrong, i'm sure there are tonnes of 'ordinary' people who like art and do buy it. Others might be tempted to buy but aren't sure how to go about it. Then there are also a huge number of people (like my Dad, for example) who simply think about nice pictures that match the paintwork and are quite happy to spend £12-£20 on a print from the high street. And what is wrong with that? Well, nothing, I suppose, except it serves no purpose. Surely they might as well not bother? They aren't buying them in the hope that people will admire them are they? How often will they look at them? Surely a print that is the same custard colour as the walls will gradually blend in and become invisible - more often than not it was never noteworthy in the first place. I sound like a snob don't I? Oh, dear.

For those of us who do buy art for our homes, why do we?

I bought some artowrks for my new flat (I am ashamed to admit over a year later that none of them yet adorn the walls as I'm a little timid about putting holes in my pristine walls... so they, along with my full length mirror, are propped up against them and freestanding on my chest of drawers until someone who isn't afraid and owns a drill comes to visit). But why did I buy them? I am often attracted by the colours. So perhaps I feel that these images represent aspects of my personality. One is simply a photograph of a place I love. Is there is alot of ego in buying art? Do we want something that says something about us - that we have taste, are flambouyant, are intellectual, artistic that we care about how our environment looks as much as how we look?

I also enjoy having something attractive to look at and that itself can't be discounted but surely I couldn've found something cheaper? I probably could but I didn't and I'm still not exactly sure why that is. This could go on for a while...