Space and Control

The 5 projects in this season Trajectory/Divergence: A collaboration a working in various degrees with controlled and uncontrolled spaces. One group is outside the school cafe, and so is constantly beset by traffic, noise, and significant interferences both natural and manmade that are beyond their control. Bridget and I have chosen to work in the Postgrad Studio, a space that is essentially a theatre - a controlled space in theory.

What do we receive from a space and what does it give us? How do the natural idiosyncrasies of a space inform the work? The architecture is an easy one, it is fixed. Our design has evolved from the intersection between the story and the space - its textures, its shape, the lighting grid, the size of it. We've chosen to highlight the lighting grid, rather than make it disappear into blackness as is the theatre standard.

But more challenging is the question of how to work with the surprises of a space, without knowing what they might be? We are coming up against the elements we cant control - the leaks in the building that drip down the walls, or onto the stage. The dance show bumping in next door, with its deep groaning soundscape and electro beats pumping through the walls.

Who does it throw off, the performers or the audience? Intrusions into our secluded space are more violent than intrusions into the seemingly uncontrolled space. Is it a question of audience expectation? When we work in a theatre (and Bridget and I have purposefully chosen to stage the work in a theatre), how can we create a work that welcomes intrusion?

How can a fault not scream as a fault? Perhaps it is in the way we consider structuring scenes, and finding the essential core of each 'scene' (for want of a better word) and awakening the performers to be ready to find that core anew and in the moment. Yes, this is part of the craft of acting, but the actor is trained to rely on certain constants so that others can be live.

Rehearsal builds assumptions, and it is part of the director/facilitators role to question these assumptions. Can we make with no assumptions? For us, the story has been the primary one. The sequence of action. By assumptions, I think I'm actually refering to a framework.

My father is training to be a pilot. He knows how the plane works, he is learning the local routes and how to navigate by sight, not using instruments. Now he's moving into emergency training, where his teacher/co-pilot will make him detour at any point, quickly rerouting his course so that he can make it safely to his destination. He must revist his map, make quick decisions based on his knowledge of the weather conditions, the plane's mechanics and the coordinates of his destination, and plot a new path.

Perhaps somewhere in there is the model for building a theatre piece. To equip performers with the skills, the dexterity, the knowledge, the instinct to make it work. Or perhaps we need to start our rehearsals in the wild. Perhaps then stay in the wild. Do we build a safe laboratory or do we experiment in the wilderness?

Big shifts

Moving into show week, the piece has benefited from a choice harvest of the past three weeks' work.
We ended week three with a whopping 38min showing that told two thirds of the story of The Pigeon's Bride. Not 38min of gold, but 38min of ideas that each need space and focus to be developed and refined.
With the parameter of a 15 to 20min timeframe, we had to make a big shift. A downsizing. With a huge array of possibilities thrown onto the table, Bridget and I realised we had a climax half way through that we hadn't quite topped. Weaving material from later in the play into the early sections, and adding in a little bridging scene, we've trimmed it down to 20 minutes on the dot.

We've also had the set back of two actors injuring themselves outside this work. As one found his feet again after a severely bruised heel and a fractured wrist, the other woke up this morning to a neck spasm that could continue for a few days. This has meant I've been jumping in and out of the work, during this important formative stage of the piece as production elements and big cuts and changes happen thick and fast.

What's been useful?
- Separation of roles: when am I performer and when am I an initiating artist? What roles do I need to give over, and how do we make that clear before we start work? There must be a time for directing and a time for performing.
- Trust. Taking notes from a colleague and not trying to direct from the inside is an exercise in trust that performers undergo every day.
- Having stepped in and out of performing during the rehearsals, the leap hasn't been too big for me or the group. Some of the information is already in my body, but I've had to 'find' alot through doing. There is so much that a performer does that a director doesn't see, though we certainly notice when its gone.
- Having the injured performers watching the work (where possible), helping me find the performance without taking all the director's focus as we try and move the work forward.
- Being a potentially birdish looking boy.

I'm fascinated by the pattern of characters looking/dressing like their directors. Now I understand why...

But with all that, keeping the ensemble alive has been a challenge. Production week, as always, brings actors into the mechanics of performance - cues, setting props, volume, light, safety - so tomorrow, as we open our exploration up to a live audience, we will bring the work back to story. Discovery, revelation, the interplay of conflicting energies that is the stuff of storytelling. For an hour we will step away from 'doing the play' and bring our focus to 'discovering the play'.