Well that was an enlightening rehearsal – literally: I had discovered that the gas lighter for my piece had been used up on the gas cooker at ]Performance Space[!
I got to the space at 1:30 and had several challenges: setting up the sound, figuring out how to shift a piece of tech I had never seen before (a twin cd mixer) and cleaning the rehearsal space. In future I will set this up earlier.
I also got to play around with my projector (yay!) and dvd player – with the addition of a couple of cables my AV store suddenly became a lot more flexible. I now don’t need to use my slow laptop for playback but use a slim slick reliable piece of independent equipment (and with a remote!) instead.
We sat around this set up while we discussed the performance, how we can change it, this blog and how it helped to refine, to redefine my performance, my practice, practicalities hah!
Then we did some more drama exercises. One thing when graduating with my BA in Fine Art and going into performance is a lacking knowledge of these games. We ended up walking then running around the space counting up to twenty then falling, touching the ground with every even number: listening, co-ordination, confidence.
Once the palava of getting the audio tracks working was set, we began the performance. I had to work around a fold up chair rather than an arm chair which was a big difference. Then we figured out the next part partly before launching into it, pretending to light the tealights.
One thing I noticed is I have a very carefully planned choreography in arranging china cups into words which relate to the text. However the group dynamic invites intervention, snatching and spontanaeity which works against this black fabric rectangle. The shape of the fabric is almost too dramatic.
The only way to get around this I think is to play them off against each other. To balance gravitas with play. But it has to be right, otherwise it would be darkly comic, or fail to touch the depth of the essays. During the rehearsal we were working through the third part and I unwound the thread around the chairs of the audience, then around my leg, around my waist. The thread was also in contact with Sabina and Bree, at one point near the end we almost made a circuit. This is a point I wanted to somehow replicate.
After Sabina had to rush off to Bermondsey I was talking with Bree about the character and the performer. It seemed I had to make a choice, whether with gesture, costume or other signifier to the audience who I was. Was I me, the staged me, or the author Charles Lamb?
I think I am me. So I am reading, not re-enacting. It has struck me that there is now a clear distinction between the different texts in the work. There are four. The first, Old China is a conversation between the author Charles Lamb and his cousin, Bridget about the freedom of poverty. The rest are solitary musings on dark streets, suburbs as memories, and death. However in Old China there is a split – two voices, two personalities. I voice both. We talked about Bree or Sabina being spot lit and present but speechless during this – I take their voice. But then Lamb takes his cousin’s voice. Bridget is to us what Lamb makes of her.
During the performance I was talking to Bree and Sabina about shadowing each other and Sabina said ‘so you want us to be the same person?’. Maybe, yes. After I also talked with Bree about them both dressed as the same person. As Bridget from Old China.
So there is this dynamic forming as a subtext to the work. The mutability of identity between the performers and the voices in the text. Playfulness and solemnity. Shadows and ghosts. Leading and being led. I still feel that the performance revolves around me – more book snatching then. And I still want to try dying, metaphorically, via ‘vegetable vegetable, fruit’. Have to try that Monday then!
