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Blog Round Up: 22nd September

Lots of link love today:

Over on Troubled Diva there’s a write-up on spending an hour on the plinth. Though I found myself dancing in my living room there was something really a little special watching the live stream and seeing the comments on twitter feeling as it did that I too (though I do not know Mike) was part of the event. I have, however, been singing ‘Together in Electric Dreams’ for the best part of the last week.

Lily Allen started a blog opposing illegal file sharing and, though I’m not entirely confident about it, it might actually open up some sort of debate about the whole issue.

And I shared my obsession with the Royal Opera House‘s Twitter Opera with the readers of Whatsonstage before theatre bloggers got all serious on me.


Performer as Performance

Back at the start of September, Corinne and I found ourselves in Shunt Vaults as the über blogger part of Write By Numbers has already attested to. We specifically went to see a piece by some friends of ours (by the company Made in China) and it was exhilarating and relieving that their piece was by far the best thing we saw in the Vaults (exhilarating, because it is always pleasing to see friends doing so well, and relieving, as you don’t have the conundrum of ‘to lie or not to lie’ if they are not doing so well).

What really got me thinking about this piece however, are the demands and lengths the incredible performer went to achieve her performance: Cycling non stop on an exercise for 25 minutes whilst delivering a monologue. And every few minutes giving bursts of acceleration as the performer peddles as fast as they can.  And in said bursts they complete tasks. And not simple things like, not dying of cardiac arrest, but tasks like applying make-up. Changing clothes. Necking a WHOLE bottle of champagne (I’m being serious). Eating a whole packet of chocolate digestives (if shoving them into your mouth all at once can be considered eating). All of which was done whilst riding an exercise bike extremely fast (I felt the need to reiterate that point). In the lulls of speed the performer had to concentrate on the small matter of delivering their monologue.

Suffice to say, all of the above was highly impressive. So much so that I can honestly say the virtuosity, the sheer ability, the commitment – however you wish to quantify – of the performer is what made this performance for me. The content was funny, well written and meaningful but it was the lengths the performer went to that made the performance. In fact, as my title suggests, the performer WAS the performance. Why is it that seeing someone push themselves to what we perceive as their physical and mental limits so enrapturing? Is it that we are really fascinated in seeing people: Struggle? Sweat? Suffer? Fail?

When I have my writer head on, stretching the boundaries and pushing the envelope of what performers can do doesn’t often occur in my thinking. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever considered writing a stage direction that reads something like: and the actor does double back flips around the stage for forty minutes (which isn’t to say that this was the case with this piece, as it was clearly devised etc, but just except my hyperbole for the time being). Such practice may not have necessarily occurred in the writer segment of my brain before, but it most certainly will do now. At least as an option.

Charlie

Write By Numbers


Reasons For Listing: Your List 1

As with many ideas in the last year I was on a train somewhere in London when I dreamt up Reasons For Listing. It certainly didn’t come out fully formed – Charlie would give it the working title which has firmly stuck a week or so later – and I wasn’t sure exactly how all the pieces slotted together. But I knew then I wanted to write about an adult with Autism (and not the Savant-style Autism that apears in many fictional portrayals) and I wanted the piece to be in some way interactive. That the experience of Autism should be a catalyst for an interactive piece seemed oddly right in a way that I couldn’t quite articulate but which instinctively felt right.

The plot fell together quickly and I soon began to get a feel for who Joseph, Reasons For Listing‘s protagonist, was (and indeed is for, really, we are still getting to know each other). My starting point – intensely personal and spotted with the kind of fears that if I thought about them too hard would prevent me from sleeping – was there but no loner visible.  Reasons For Listing is about a young man who has Asperger’s Syndrome but it’s also about growing up, striking out on your own and puzzling out the world around you. Which, at some point, every one of us has to do (for some it is, quite simply, a bit later or a bit harder than for others).

It’s a cliche to say that a picture paints a thousand words. I’m a playwright so I wouldn’t dismiss words so easily. But what might a photograph express? If we were to choose them what might it say about us? Living alone for the first time Joseph begins to create a photographic list of everything which makes him happy. And those pictures told a story too; there’s something about the photos that I realised he would choose that elevated him from casual labels. Because we’re all a lot more complex than a throw-away sentence describing some aspect of who we are.

As it stands I have a draft of Reasons For Listing which is labelled 0.75. In the next few weeks it’s going into the hands of both Charlie and a willing actor and it will undoubtedly see itself anew again at that point. But before we get there there’s the vital part of Reasons For Listing that requires your contribution:

If you were to take a photograph of something which makes you happy what would it be?

The idea is that Joseph’s story will never quite be the same in any two performances, changed as it is by the photos that people submit. For there is Joseph’s list of things that make him happy and then there are the lists those who he comes into contact with (or, equally pertinently, who come into contact with him). And that includes you.

We’ve written up all the details here and the only limit to what can be submitted it your imagination. Equally, if you want to submit more than one photograph please feel free.

So, what makes you happy?


Happy Birthday

This is undoubtedly unfashionably early but tomorrow is the half of Write By Numbers who cries whilst watching Arsenal’s birthday. Charlie very rarely knows exactly how old he is, though he is always quick to point out that whatever his actual age he is still young enough to claim a Young Person’s Railcard. Ouch.

Even given this it would be remiss of me not to wish him Happy Birthday. Given that the London Post Office has swallowed his birthday present (give me back my flippin’ post!) I would say I’d buy him a beer tomorrow night – but he still owes me a muffin so that might have to wait…

Lattitude and Flippin' Pint Glasses

[With thanks to @cat_elliott for the photo of Charlie and I at Latitude 2009. Most importantly this is quite possibly the only photograph in existence of me holding a pint glass].


The Road Map

There was a moment, just a moment, yesterday when Charlie and I looked at each other with something approaching terror after four hours of a planning meeting. For that meeting has (albeit with some room for manoeuvre/ collapse/ either one of us getting distracted by pretty sparkly things) set the aims of Write By Numbers for the next 12 to 18 months. There’s a lot in there that’s fantastically exciting. And there’s also a lot that means (as we knew when we started upon this adventure) that leisure time is going to be at a premium in the Whitworth/ Furness households.

All of which meant that I had to have another coffee and Charlie had to curl up into the foetal position for a brief moment or two. Then we recovered our sanity (almost) and went on our ways (in my case to fly across South London in rush hour to rescue my locked-out flatmate; it’s a glamorous life).

Whatever the next year brings (for this blog is to be the story of our company as much as it is about our ideas, and our rants and our quite puzzling obsessions) I’m booking a day in this time next year to see you all in a bar somewhere and raise my glass to crazy, fantastic, scary, liberating schemes.

And maybe, just maybe, making some art along the way…


Dance even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room 1

Let’s get something straight: I’m a tiny, tiny bit addicted to the live stream of Antony Gormley’s “One & Other”. This is something probably compounded by the excitement when for some reason or other I find myself passing through Trafalgar Square and can see FOR REAL what is happening. I imagine it’s the kind of feeling I would have gotten had I been allowed to wander into the Big Brother house mid series two.

Of course some of the stuff on the plinth has been the equivalent of Big Brother Contestants doing the washing up and not talking (do not mock, yes I have watched Big Brother Contestants wash up. What can I say, I was an Undergraduate with a maxed out overdraft and…okay no more excuses). But there’s also been incredible inventiveness, oddly troubling moments and then those moments that just make you stop.

I honestly can’t think of a better way of using the empty plinth than to celebrate the ingenuity, mundanity and all round insanity of those who live in this country.

So I was somewhat chuffed when I read that the Blogger Mike Atkinson, otherwise known as Troubled Diva, is going up on the plinth with the kind of crazy scheme that makes me want to jump with a little bit of joy.  For he’s going to be dancing to a specially prepared soundtrack – and he’s encouraging everyone else to participate too, either in Trafalgar Square if you can make it in person or via the web if you can’t. The Ultimate Plinth Mix is up and ready to be downloaded or streamed – though the idea is not to listen to the songs beforehand so no peeking.

As I’ve mentioned, I’m a sucker for popular music telling a story, and this reponse to the project emphatically does that. Plus, as anyone who has at some point in their life waved their arms above their heads with little regard for public safety will know, there is something totally wonderful about closing your eyes and flailing your body to music.

Maybe most importantly however, and the thing that really made this idea stand out to me, was the fact that this is about both the individual and the community. Yes, Troubled Diva will be the man on the Plinth and the songs chosen are ones that mean something to him but if you close your eyes and dance then you are part of the narrative too. And you can create your own story whether you’re on the Plinth, in Trafalgar Square or watching a computer screen in a room hundreds (or thousands) of miles away. And that is exactly why this is a little bit special.