Observing these office gestures closely, I became enthralled by the form and quality of these everyday movements: The tension in the fingers of hands photocopying a page from a book; The nonsensical reach from a chair pushed away from a desk; The swift left-to-right-ear-and-back exchange of a telephone. We over look these actions because they are necessary, habitual, automatic, yet when actively observed they accord beauty and complexity.
Three days voluntarily sat in an office, probably isn’t most people’s idea of fun; but I had a remarkably good time considering. There were, admittedly, periods where not much happened, and I did drink a lot of coffee, but it’s all part of getting into character, or so I told myself. My observations left me with pages upon pages of in-depth detail about the slightest of movements. This desire for the minutia was driven by wanting to be able to recreate (albeit perhaps in an exaggerated form) these actions. My concern was that in asking someone to perform a simple task like moving a sheet of paper from one side of the desk to another, the qualities of the original unconscious act may be lost: Would we think to swoop it through the air in the fashion I had just witnessed?
As mentioned in my the last post, I find there something very intriguing about this office space’s inherent stage-like quality. It feels like a fitting space for a performance. With this in mind I asked to work with a dancer with a view to creating a performance together. Looking back on this now, I wonder what possessed me. Not only do I have very little understanding of dance, I was setting out to choreograph a piece set within the walls of a renowned dance organisation. If it wasn’t me in this self-created predicament, I’d probably find it quite funny.
My thoughts were to create a performance that highlighted the fact that here, in the office, there was a constant performance being played out. I spent three days observing the office with the notion that this would help me to plan a score of movement.
These three days, and subsequent conversations with Iris (the dancer) proved illuminating, and have been the real starting point for this project.
(As I am sure anyone reading this can work out, I am writing this blog a little down the line from the actual events.- It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I realised that this collaboration between myself and an office worker/dancer might be of interest. I thought it important to start from the beginning, but I hope to get to a point where I catch up with myself and the project!)
Beginnings…
We’ve had a few meetings already, but for me, it feels like this project is only just starting. I’ve never been too good at, as my dad calls it, “walking whilst chewing gum”; I’ve had a few other projects on the go up till this point, so the project has been quietly mulling in the background.
Perhaps its best to start by giving a bit more detail as to the project…
As one of this years artists for the 60|40 Starting Point Series I have been asked to respond to the Siobhan Davies Studios building and to its activities. The first visit to the building proved to be, thankfully, quite conclusive for me: Although there are some really lovely aspects to the building, the place which caught my attention was the office. -My MA work centred around this theme, and it would appear, I haven’t got it out of my system yet.
As you enter Siobhan Davies Studios, the office is a large glass fronted room to the right that stretches the length of the atrium. There seems instantly something unusual here; offices are usually kept neatly out of sight, yet here, glass fronted and framed, this office is offered as a space to be actively viewed. Intriguingly, the rehearsal spaces, where the dancing goes on, are conversely much less visible to the visitor; they are tucked away behind doors that restrict viewing to slivers of the action.
