Labyrinth, 4/24/10

After having been away from the labyrinth all week due to the Objects class at the Alliance, I was hoping to get back out there today. Alas, of course, it is raining. I did take a quick tour around the place right after lunch and am very happy to report that the ferns are becoming magnificent. I’ll have photos tomorrow.

In other news, next Saturday, May 1, is World Labyrinth Day. I can’t decide what, if anything, I want to do to celebrate. Half of me wants to light the candles and sit quietly by myself. The other half wants to throw open the gates.

Discuss.

Devising from Object, parts 4 & 5

We spent Thursday night just shaping up the piece, adding bits, sharpening transitions, etc.

Last night (Friday), we ran through it a couple of times, then sat around and debriefed our experience of the week. People were overwhelmingly positive in their responses. The class and its strategies seemed to open up new worlds to everyone in the group. (Thank you, Marc, for making those worlds available to me already, and thank you, Lacuna Group, for continuing to explore those worlds.)

Small but intrigued audience, and we had one of those to-be-dreaded Q&A things afterwards, although everyone seemed interested in our discussion/explanation.

The performance went well, we had a great time, and in the event we created some compelling images. It has given me some ideas to help break up some creative logjams I think I’ve been having in Lacuna. Mostly, it was a good lesson in being bold and not looking back. Leap, don’t look.

Devising from Object, Part 3

Last night (Wednesday) Michael showed us some stills from recent productions: tightly designed, neatly expressed. Then he presented us with a script to play with, made up of about a page and a half of the material we’d generated on Monday and Tuesday.

We worked our way through it, mostly stitching together the pieces that we already knew by dint of having created them. We worked out transitions. Michael had music/sound, and it worked well.

All told, we have about 10-12 minutes of odd but compelling viewing. Some very nice moments indeed. You might be thrilled; you’d probably laugh at several points (a deliberate provocation on our part).

A couple of thoughts about the class/process so far: First, as Michael was showing his stuff and how it correlated to some of the strategies he’s worked with us on, people were sharing their own experiences in productions that used similar strategies. I kept to my purpose of flying under the radar and just listened, but folks, NCTC has done it all. Yes, it seems that little ol’ Newnan has seen theatre as adventurous and inventive as anything Atlanta has to offer.

It also has become clear that while I have found the class to be invigorating and provocative, it has not been overwhelmingly revelatory: Lacuna has been using the same strategies, and on a much larger scale, of course, as we blunder our way through the “Creativity/Bear/whatever” performance piece. We may have thought we were at a loss, but I have every reason to believe that “real theatre people” would be intrigued by everything we’ve done.

Finally, the class has stirred up my brain to the point that I have had a scathingly brilliant idea for moving forward with King Lear over at Lacuna. All I need is fifteen people who want to blow it all out.

Devising from Object, part 2

Interesting night (Tuesday). People brought in all kinds of apples and witty takes on apples. I had printed out several paintings of the expulsion of Adam and Eve, and we spent the night playing with literal tableau vivants, posing the two central figures in each of the paintings, then messing with the setup.

The most effective moment came when we were working with the Masaccio fresco. We had one Eve in the center, and three Adams around her. We linked the Adams (who were all female) together with a rope, then dropped that idea. Michael directed them to “switch” poses, with the Adams slowing looking up and Eve turning to look “back.”

It was strikingly frightening. We toyed with that awhile. I suggested the Adams then kneel (just to get some new levels into it), then Michael had them prostrate themselves. I added extended arms, one forward, one back. Michael added an apple to the rear hand (which the Adams concealed beforehand.)

It was cool. Then I “complained” that it looked like a feminist statement; could we try it with the three males in the class playing Adam? We did, and lo! it was better.

More later.

Devising from Object, part 1

I decided to take this theatre class up at the Alliance Theatre called “Devising from Object,” taught by puppeteer Michael Haverty. The blurb was very vague, but it sounded very process oriented and performance art bound, and since my email from the Dramatists Guild also gave me a code for a 50% discount, I signed up.

Last night (Monday) was the first night. A last-minute e-mail from Michael told us:

We will be devising a short performance beginning with the theme of CRAVING or DESIRE. We will begin working with objects which both you and I will provide. On Monday please bring TWO objects to the workshop which symbolize, inspire, or are inspired by craving or desire in you. The objects can be of any sort: a piece of clothing, a book, a toy, a letter, a picture, a piece of furniture, trash, or food. You may take the theme as broadly as you like – desire for fame, pleasure, long life, supremacy, world peace, vacation – craving for food, drugs, love, connection, success, disaster – the possibilities are endless. The objects should hold a certain sort of power for you.

We will be working in a style based upon Tableau Vivant or ‘Living Pictures’ – an artform of the 18th and early 19th century involving the staging of popular paintings by live performers. We will modernize this form using movement, text, sound, and dynamic visual mise-en-scene. I thought you all might be interested in reading a little bit about Tableau Vivant and the artforms it inspired, including photography, silent film, and magic lantern shows. The wikipedia entry is a good start: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tableau_vivant

Okay, I thought, this could be interesting. Or it could be hideously lame. Who cares? I’m taking the plunge.

So what to take? I did a lot of thinking, and one thing I finally decided was that I was going to go under the radar with this experience. No one was going to know anything about me in terms of my extensive theatre experience, my ambitions or accomplishments in art or music or education, none of that.

I took a paving stone from the back yard, symbolizing the construction of the labyrinth and my desire for centering and self-knowledge.

And I took this book. I’ve owned it for probably 25 years. It had disappeared into the detritus that is our home, but recently my lovely first wife unearthed it and left it lying out in prominent places. It is full of toothsome young lads, demonstrating with their smooth long shanks , broad balanced chests, and offensively flat and rippled stomachs how to master the simple moves required to make one’s body look just like theirs.

Whatever.

I took it as a symbol of my desire to look like those toothsome boys, even though I never have and never will. As I said last night, since I cannot hope for youth and beauty, I will shoot for simple good health. And a flat stomach.

Anyway, there are an even dozen of us in the class, and everyone brought objects that were sometimes whimsical, sometimes serious, but nearly always evocative of deep desires that resonated with everyone in the room. A couple of themes emerged, one of which was that of escapism: most of us had the urge to be somewhere else, to be someone else, to be Other.

We began with one of the objects, an apple, and began playing with it. Michael put the apple on a black rehearsal box in the center of the stage. We added Rebecca pressed up against the black box wall, in fear/desire/something. We added a rope from the apple over to Holly, who knelt menacingly at the opposite corner. We had me crossing in super slomo from stage L to stage R with a hatchet upraised in my outstretched arms. We had Beau popping out from stage L with an envelope, whispering in Rebecca’s ear.

You can see how weird this is going to be. So far, so good.

Tonight I am taking construction paper cutouts of apples: red, yellow, green. White, purple, orange, blue, black. I’ve printed out multiple images of the expulsion of Adam and Eve. I’m taking cutouts of leaves (for modesty, of course). I’m taking the altar bell I bought last weekend in Greensboro.

More later.

New blog to read

Go read.

http://juanitajean.com/2010/04/01/hummm/

It’s short, and if you don’t click on the Previous or Next button, you’ll back here in a few seconds. Don’t close that window, though, because you’ll want to go back and read one of Juanita Jean’s real tirades.

I came across this blog via alicublog.blogspot.com, who is always entertaining in a snarky kind of way. Juanita Jean is not quite Molly Ivins, and don’t you think Molly Ivins is kicking at the gates of heaven to be allowed back?, but she’s ‘pert-near close,’ as we say in Lubbock.

William Blake’s Inn, 4/9/10

I spent most of yesterday prepping the piano/vocal score of A Visit to William Blake’s Inn to go out to a competition. Most of it was easy, and it forced me to make the title page of each piece consistent within the suite. (It’s weird that I only recently learned to input all the title/composer/lyricist stuff into the Info box, and then use Text Inserts to handle them.)

A couple of difficulties, but nothing major. I had to generate a piano score for “The Man in the Marmalade Hat Arrives,” because it was composed straight for trumpet trio and wads of percussion. And I had to create a piano reduction of “Epilogue,” because I had slammed that together overnight and just done it straight to orchestra. I ended up leaving the abysmal “piano reduction” of the sunflower waltz in place, because, you know, if they actually select it, I’ll do something about it.

Likewise the actual orchestration. There’s a limit on 20 players for the orchestra in this competition, and I posited 2/2/2/2/1 strings; 4 “winds,” meaning four players who could switch instruments as needed; 2 percussionists; 2 horns; 1 piano, 1 harp, 1 synth, who would cover trumpets and whatever else I had to leave out. Needless to say, this is a false lie. The thing is scored for an orchestra twice that size, and I confessed that while claiming that it could be reorchestrated in the event of its being selected.

Which we all know is not very likely to happen. Leaving aside the curse on my music, it’s not really an opera, is it? It’s charming, and it would be a huge draw for any opera company, but it’s not fashionably atonal and there’s no plot. My experience has been that people listen to it and think it’s pretty, but shouldn’t we write a script to embed the songs in? No one seems to have the vision necessary to turn it into a performance.

All of which is to say, I love this piece. I love Nancy Willard’s poetry, and I love my music. It arcs, it delights, it inspires. I haven’t listened to it for a while, mostly I think because it reminds me painfully that it will probably never have a real performance, but this week I’ve had it in the CD player in the van, and it is at least a comfort to discover that I still love it. It hasn’t fallen apart in the dark while I wasn’t looking, if that makes any sense. It’s still my masterpiece.

It is a comfort, too, that Nancy Willard loves it as well. She reiterated that this week when I contacted her about sending me something official in writing that I had permission to use her work. I am not being disingenuous when I say that I yearn for a performance of this work more for her than for me.

Oh well.

Labyrinth, 4/6/10

I stopped by my now-favorite supplier of stones, whose name I forget but who is out on Hwy 34 next to the tropical fish place, and picked up this:

I’m going to try to make it serve as the basis for the westpoint sculpture. The young woman who helped me pick it out said that they had a guy making oil lamps out of rocks like this, and he used a blowtorch to burn the rock away. It’s worth a try, unless my grinder has some kind of diamond wheel attachment. The depression only has to be a quarter of an inch, after all.

There’s still the problem of drilling holes into it and balancing the thing. Something tells me there’s going to be a third piece of rebar holding up the front edge.

In other news, all the ferns I planted last year are reviving, with the possible exception of the three southern wood ferns that went where the tree fell. They don’t seem to be putting out any new growth. But look at everyone else:

I wish I could get some clear pictures of the little painted ghost ferns. Those are delicately beautiful.

On the other hand, I think the cinnamon ferns over by the glider may have died. I know the Mexican male ferns that went by the entrance to the men’s loo did. And apparently I’m the only person in history known to have killed off ostrich ferns. I’ll plant some more and dare them to take over the southwest corner.

Two down

The letter came yesterday from the Composers Conference, I was not one of the ten composers selected for their two-week session in July. (That was the “Pieces for Bassoon and String Quartet,” for those who are keeping score.)

Missed opportunity

I had a scathingly brilliant idea this morning, but unfortunately I think it’s too late to get rich off of it. Because I could have made a bundle.

The idea is simplicity itself: from my CaféPress store, sell t-shirts that say, “Count Me Out: just say no to the Census.”

See? Wingnuts would have purchased them by the gross. I probably could have sold at least 1,000 to the Teabagger Express or whatever they’re calling it. Heck, as long as the Koch brothers are paying for it, I could have sold them 50,000, and then they could claim they had that many participants in their dog-and-pony show. As opposed to the 500 who actually show up.

It is beyond me, of course, why these people have suddenly taken it into their heads that the Census is an unimaginable governmental intrusion into their privacy. First of all, they spend their days screaming about how Obama, the Antichrist, is robbing us all of our personal freedoms. (Exactly which freedoms those are is a little unclear to me. And to them: I’ve never heard any teabagger actually enumerate a constitutional freedom that we’re in danger of losing. Hold that thought, though, I’m coming back to it.)

So if their rallying cry is “Bring back the Constitution,” I truly don’t understand why they’re suddenly against one of the very clear items in that estimable document. You don’t even have to read very far into it:

Article I, Section 2:

Representatives and direct Taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may be included within this Union, according to their respective Numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole Number of free Persons, including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other Persons. The actual Enumeration shall be made within three Years after the first Meeting of the Congress of the United States, and within every subsequent Term of ten Years, in such Manner as they shall by Law direct. The Number of Representatives shall not exceed one for every thirty Thousand, but each State shall have at Least one Representative; and until such enumeration shall be made, the State of New Hampshire shall be entitled to chuse three, Massachusetts eight, Rhode-Island and Providence Plantations one, Connecticut five, New-York six, New Jersey four, Pennsylvania eight, Delaware one, Maryland six, Virginia ten, North Carolina five, South Carolina five, and Georgia three.

And no, the questions on the form are not new. They’ve been asked for over a hundred years, at least. And it’s the friggin’ law, people.

All of this is especially astounding when you consider that this very same subset of the population leapt to the defense of George W. Bush’s flagrant violation of the Fourth Amendment, and still do. Surveillance of U.S. citizens without a warrant? No problem. No problem at all. Apparently that’s governmental intrusion into our privacy we can all believe in. (However, once they realize that Obama is continuing this vile practice, they may decide it’s an outrageous violation of all we stand for.)

So yes: a built-in market for a wonderfully simple idea. If only I had had it two months ago, I could have suckered these pitiful, delusional, fearful pawns of the right wing power structure into giving me all their money while promoting a self-defeating idea. It’s a win-win for all of us.