Packing the Van

Why tell these stories now? Why tell these stories again?

Stock-piling books, DVDs, comics, articles and music to take with me on tour. Stuff that's been on the to-read/watch list for months, some stuff bought especially. Touring luxuries.

Getting a bit done on the next two shows - moving them forward, conceptually and logistically, to a point where they can rest for a month until the latter half of the tour releases the head-space to pick them up again.

Checking the words are still there. Or rather, the stories. Discovering, as usual, on talking-to-myself walks to work that the words are still there - but the numbers aren't. Going back to the text to check dates and quantities.

Going back, too, to the wider research from making the show. Refilling my head with the stuff that is there in the show as spice and flavour, or (to push a metaphor) as stock, rather than as a main, visible, ingredient.

Planning workshops, talks, screenings and schedules. Getting my hair cut.

Asking myself, why tell these stories again, now? Remembering what first grabbed me about this stuff when Jorge told the first three stories. What made me want to tell these stories and find more of them. Thinking about how this project meant we had to look for bad stories, and the awkward contradiction of feeling pleased when we found them.

The What I Heard About The World project has been active in various forms, on various platforms, for almost two years now. That's pretty good service. Why tell these stories again?

I remember being sent a link to a story about a Korean couple who let their three-month old baby die because they were spending so much time playing an online game called Prius, in which they had to look after a (fantasy, magical) child. I thought simultaneously, (as a maker) brilliant, and (as a parent, as a person)...just...well, I don't know. Shock, disgust, disbelief. Anger, in fact.

I've been remembering that this contradiction is one of the things the show is about. It's about how we use stories. How we fit them in to our own agenda. At about the same time a similarly horrific and tragic story occurred in Sheffield - but not with the game element, and not, obviously, taking place in Korea. It seemed to me at the time - and a more recent internet search seems to confirm this - that whilst the Sheffield story was in the papers, it wasn't as widely reported as the story of the Korean family.

We like a good story. We like to repeat a great story - and to be brutal, the Korean baby and the computer game is a great story - partly because of the game, and partly because of where it happened. Korea. And as Chris says in the show,

...the thing about Korea, is, it's a very long way away. I mean, not if you live in Japan, but it's a long way away from the UK.

And, as Chris wrote to me just now, of course comparatively few of us have been to Korea. But we know it's part of our world. It has to exist, because we've heard of it. It's indisputably out there. We can watch its news. We can youtube its game shows and buy its exports. But for most of us, the place itself is just a series of facts, of anecdotes, without the balancing force of direct experience.  

I'm thinking about how, on one level, these stories of stand-ins are metaphors; their subject matter reflects the job they do as we carry them in our heads - as a stand-in for knowledge. As a substitute for understanding what it's actually like. Not that all the stories are as dark as the Korean story by any means - some of the stories in the show are ridiculous to the point of being almost unbelievable. A series of fakes, carefully crafted to let us believe we see the real thing.

They're a great stories. They suit our purposes. So we'll tell them again.

Back on tour

*This post was UPDATED on 12 Feb 2012*
[Watch a video trailer of What I Heard About The World here]
[Watch a video trailer for Story Map here]

In February and March we're on the road with both Story Map and What I Heard About The World, along with a programme of talks, workshops and related events. A simple tour list is up on the News Page of the website, but I thought it might be useful/interesting for some readers to go into a bit more detail about what's happening where, when and why. To tell the story of the tour, as it were.

We now think of the two pieces as a companion pieces (more on that in later blog post, I think), and certainly the plan is that in each performance of What I Heard About The World we will include a one different story that we have found through the Story Map research.

 photo: Craig Fleming

We kick off with what feels like a combined two-week North-East residency at ARC and Northern Stage, who between them are hosting the complete range of the project plus some other associated projects.

ARC, Stockton on Tees

Story Map: Tuesday 31 January, 10am – 10pm

You can follow it, and take part, online.

What I Heard About The World: Thursday 2 February, 7.30pm

NORTHERN STAGE, Newcastle Upon Tyne

What I Heard About The World: Wed 8 – Fri 10 February, 8.15pm

Plus:

Weds 8: post-show mini-Playing With Time video screening in Stage 3 – we'll be introducing three short films from the Third Angel repertoire.

Thurs 9, 7.15pm: pre-show talk Stories We Didn't Tell. Created for the Society of Cartographers' Summer School and the NASN's Dialogues series, Stories We Didn't Tell explores the development of the show and the three way collaboration between Third Angel, mala voadora and Worldmapper.org. It includes, unsurprisingly, a few of the stories we don't tell in the show, and considers why we don't tell them. (This talk is available for other venues – get in touch).

Also on Thurs 9: post-show talk with the creative team.

Then What I Heard About The World is on tour across England, starting in the North West:

AXIS ARTS CENTRE, Crewe:

Thursday 16 February, 7.30pm

Having worked a lot with the Axis team in Alsager, this will be our first visit to the new space in Crewe. We'll also be showing two new video pieces - Story Titles and World Cartograms - inspired by the research process, again in collaboration with Worldmapper.org, in the foyer gallery space, all week, too.

ZION ARTS CENTRE, Manchester:

Friday 17 February, 7.30pm

We are delighted to be the opening event of the new WordofWarning programme in Manchester. There will be a couple of speeches, a bonus short performance and drinks – come and celebrate!

And then we head South, with a welcome return visit to be part of the fantastic season at:

THE JUNCTION, Cambridge:

Monday 20 February, 8pm

Followed by two weeks at the brilliant:

SOHO THEATRE, London:

Weds 22 Feb – Sat 3 March (not Sun 26), 7.45pm
plus Saturday Matinees at 3.30pm
It's our first visit to Soho, and we're really excited to be taking the work there - come along, tell your friends! We'll be running a number of workshops whilst we're in London – get in touch if you'd like us to run one with you.

Also, during the run at Soho, Chris and Hannah Jane Walker will be presenting The Oh F*ck Moment, as a late show on Friday and Saturday evenings at 9.45pm. It's a great show, so why not come down and see both...

After that, What I Heard About The World continues, heading to the South West, the South, and, er, the Middle (ish). Trace this last two weeks of the tour on the map... We start with one of our favourite venues:

EXETER PHOENIX

Tuesday 6 March, 8pm

And then a run of really exciting venues that are all first time visits for us:

THEATRE ROYAL WINCHESTER,
Thursday 8 March,8pm

THE BREWERY, TOBACCO FACTORY THEATRE, Bristol:
Friday 9 & Sat 10 March, 8.15pm

UNIVERSITY of BEDFORD THEATRE  

Wednesday 15 March, 7.30pm

What I Heard About The World tour finishes at

THE CORE at CORBY CUBE:
Friday 16 March, 7.30pm

followed by Story Map:
Saturday 17 March, 10am - 10pm

Then to finish off the whole tour, we head to (South) London with Story Map:

THE ALBANY, London:

Saturday 24 March, 10am - 10pm

photo: Hannah Nicklin

So, a bit more about the project:

Both pieces are devised and performed by Jorge Andrade, Alexander Kelly and Chris Thorpe, and created in collaboration with José Capela and Rachael Walton. 

In Story Map we are joined by online-documenter/researcher-corroborator-dramaturg Hannah Nicklin, and throughout the project we have been assisted and documented by Lauren Stanley.

All of this has been managed by Hilary Foster for Third Angel and Manuel Poças for mala voadora.

What I Heard About The World

"A theatre piece with two songs: one original, one karaoke."

There's quite a lot on this blog about the process of making the show: 

Here's where it all started.  

Here's us refining our brief. 

Here are some thoughts on the influence of Worldmapper. 

Here's the start of Lauren's rehearsal diary. 

Here's a bit about the use of drawing in the project.
Here are some thoughts on taking the show back out on tour in the UK.

Story Map

A 12 hour durational research performance.

You can follow Story Map online, as it runs live. Just visit:

http://whatiheardabouttheworld.co.uk

and/or follow me (@AlexanderKelly) on Twitter.

There are some thoughts from me about the 12-hour nature of the performance, here.

**

Third Angel and mala voadora present

What I Heard About The World & Story Map

A co-production with Sheffield Theatres and Teatro Maria Matos, Lisbon

In association with PAZZ Performing Arts Festival and Worldmapper.org.

Supported by the National Lottery through Arts Council England.

Off The White

I like that feeling. In the pit of your stomach. After you’ve jumped off something. Not just off a chair, or even a wall. Off something too high. Something so high you’re gonna hurt yourself. Unless you hit water.

Walsall Gala Baths. You weren’t allowed to jump off the diving boards. You had to ask permission to even dive off the highest. The White Board. Colour coded (in Jubilee Year). Red – fairly high; Blue – high; White - fucking high. Strict safety measures in place. A dressing room door, wedged across the stairs from The Blue to The White. Marker pen warning: “NO ACCESS TO WHITE BOARD WITHOUT PERMISSION! That includes you, Wilson”.

The pool looked so small from up there. A whistle. Everyone stops and looks up. No pressure. If you dived badly, (belly flop, back flop) it really hurt. But if you got it right, fantastic. But not the same as jumping. Diving tells your body it’s safe. Head first. You know what you’re doing. That stomach-pit panic doesn’t grip.

Winter 1980 (81?), mid-week. Dark outside. Kick out time. Just you and your mates left. Ask the attendant. (Not life guards. Not in the Midlands). Ask the attendant:

- Can I just go off The White?

- Yeah, alright. If you’re quick.

Pad round the pool side. The water is already becoming still. You used to think it would take half an hour for a pool this big to quiet. But look. It’s only moving gently now. As your trot up the rough wet stairs to the side of The Red. Turn left. Steps up. Pulling yourself up by the hand rails. Left. Onto The Blue walkway. Left. Steps. Up. Over the wedged cubicle door. Top board. The White.

Walk to the edge. Toes curl round the hard concrete. Shivering. Pool shifts slowly. One big ripple. Your mates, halfway down the poolside. You sway. Look down. Instinctively, your hands move. They cup your bollocks.

It could really fucking hurt your balls jumping from this high, and there’s that thing you’ve heard about hitting water so hard it pushes your bollocks back up into you body, but that’s probably like that story that if you are in a falling lift you should keep jumping because if you’re in the air when it hits the ground it will reduce the impact and you might not die.

You jump. You drop fast. Your stomach tightens. The feeling starts lower; moves up your body; towards your chest. You count.

One.

Two.

Thr-

The dark blue of the deep end. You don’t quite hit the bottom. Kick legs. Break surface with a shake of your head. Swim to the side. Pull yourself up the cold metal steps. The attendant... laughing. 

Showers. Shouting. Changing room. Chip shop. 

***

Afterword:

This short story was included as a chapter in the solo performance versions of Words & Pictures. It was also the piece that inspired the title to the performance of Off the White (actually about benches) and also partly Learning to Swim, both pieces I made with Paula Diogo. Reading this lovely piece by Emma Adams reminded me that I had been meaning to post it here for a while. So here it is.

 

A Christmas Single

When I was six, I got a Bionic Man action man for Christmas. I remember that I knew that that was what it was from the size and shape of the box, when it was still wrapped under the tree. I suspect I was very familiar with the dimensions of its packaging from coveting it in toyshops.

My Mom used to let me open one Christmas present on Christmas Eve – probably, I now realise, as a way of diffusing the extreme Christmas morning excitement which would have seen me waking her up at 5am. So I chose the present I knew was my Bionic Man and was overjoyed. I don't remember much else about that Christmas, but I remember he had a red tracksuit and trainers, and some sort of peel-up-able skin on his arm to reveal his bionics.

If you'd asked me at any point in my life what my Favourite Ever Christmas Present was, I would have said that it was that Bionic Man. Mainly because I wanted it so badly, and the massive helping of joy it delivered when I opened it. But I did love it and played with it a lot for the next couple of years.

A few years ago, though, I was lucky enough to get an espresso machine as a joint Christmas and birthday present. And that brings me a little shot (or two) of joy every morning. If I weigh it up, I suspect, the espresso maker has made me even happier, over the years, than my red-tracksuited bionic man.

And then about six months ago I thought I had lost the watch I was given one particular Christmas, and I went a little bit mad until I had found it again - ten minutes later in a pocket in a bag I hadn't noticed before. "Ah," I realised, "it turns out I'm really rather attached to this watch." 

Is 'favourite' favourite now, favourite at the time you opened it, or most important over a longer portion of your life?

Last weekend at the Slung Low Christmas Fayre in Leeds, with help of Hannah Nicklin, and last night at the Inbetween Time Christmas Party in Bristol, I asked people what their favourite ever Christmas present was. I asked them to make cards and write about their favourite presents, and took their addresses so they can all receive someone else's favourite ever present in the post.

People were, as people are, really thoughtful; people had, as people do, some great stories. It was a joy to hear and read them. It was planned as a one-off for the Christmas Fayre, so the invitation to Bristol was a nice surprise – and means I can send cards to/from people in different cities. I'd like to do it again. So perhaps this is a mini-performance equivalent of a Christmas single, and we'll re-release it next year.

Compass Inspiration Exchanges

Inspiration Exchange at Leeds City Museum, as part of the Compass Live Art Festival, was the longest run of the piece I've done. It was nice to have the time for ideas and stories to develop and evolve. When it hits its stride, Inspiration Exchange becomes a long, rolling conversation, which people join or leave as/when they wish. Ideas are passed along from person to person, sometimes reappearing several stories later. People plan to tell one story, then hear something that sets off a new thought.

Sited in the "old back-to-back terraced house", also used as a story telling space in the Museum, there were a steady stream of visitors throughout the six hours, some in specially to see the Compass events, some just in to look around the museum.

It got pretty busy mid-afternoon, but I think I kept track of all the ideas and stories exchanged:

I swapped "SUNDAY WAS ALWAYS A GOOD DAY" 
for SUNDAY, SEVENTH DAY OR FIRST DAY

I swapped A 6B PENCIL 
for A CUP OF TEA
I swapped A CUP OF TEA
for CHILD BIRTH & ROONEY
and I swapped CHILD BIRTH & ROONEY
for MARMALADE PIZZA

I swapped A 94 YEAR OLD SMOKER
for A SMOKING RUNNER

I swapped THE HOUSING BENEFIT CLAIM SYSTEM
for BANKERS WANKERS

I swapped TRACING PAPER
for I LIVE IN YOUR HOUSE

I swapped THINGS STICKING UP OUT OF WATER
for THE HEPWORTH SHOULD BE EMPTIED ONCE A YEAR & OPENED TO VISITORS

I swapped TICK-BOXES FOR SCOTTISH & WELSH
for JOURNEY TO JAPAN

I swapped CLIPBOARDERS
for THE GIANT'S CHAIR
and I swapped THE GIANT'S CHAIR
for PIANO IN THE PARK

I swapped A GOING-BACK-TO-THE-WOMB PILL
for GUINEA PIG DUST

I swapped 23 POSTCARDS, FROM AMERICA, FROM MY DAD
for THE HORRIBLE DREAM.

I swapped IF IN DOUBT, TAKE IT OUT, IF YOU CAN'T WIN, KEEP IT IN
for JUGGLING IN JANUARY

I got a drawing of a STOLEN BUGATTI

I swapped EMPTY BENCHES
for THE SUNYATĀ STONE

I swapped BURNING THE TOAST

for PEOPLE I NEVER KNEW

and then, due to a glitch in the system

I swapped BURNING THE TOAST again,

this time for LARGE GROUPS OF MEN

I swapped DEAD JELLY FISH

for THE DEAD CAT
and I swapped THE DEAD CAT
for THE LUCKY SUNFLOWER

I swapped AIR CRASH INVESTIGATION

for BUILDINGS AS TIME TRAVELLERS

I swapped THREE PINTS OF GUINNESS

for FLEETWOOD MAC

and I swapped FLEETWOOD MAC

for A TALE OF TWO ROVERS

I swapped AN ESCAPED LUNATIC IN CANNOCK CHASE
for COB WALL

I swapped THE INSIDE OF A SAXOPHONE
for THE SIMPLEST ANSWER

I swapped "TAKE IT AWAY, BOYS"

for DEEP END RANCH

I swapped THE VOYAGER SPACECRAFT

for SPACE JOURNEY

and I swapped SPACE JOURNEY

for KICKING THE BASSET

I swapped SPEECH BALLOONS IN PARTICULAR, COMIC BOOKS IN GENERAL

for DANNY GREGORY - 'EVERYDAY MATTERS'.

I swapped 300 CAMERAS A DAY

for THE SANDMAN
and I swapped THE SANDMAN
for DINOSAUR WEE

I swapped 36 DAYS LOOKING FOR STUFF IN THE FRIDGE 

for SOUL SISTAH!

Generating Conversation

Karen approaches us in the bar, weeks later. She says, ‘I’ve been wondering, why did I tell you the story I told you?’

Making space and finding time. Sitting opposite. Playing conversation - talking and listening.

Over the years, alongside our end-on seated-audience theatre work, Third Angel has returned to the exploration of a mode of performance built on conversation, or interview, with individual audience members. Performance in as much as we know what’s going to happen and they don’t; or, at least, we know more about what’s going to happen than they do.  We don’t know what they’re going to do or say.  We hope that they will do or say more than they would have expected, had we told them in advance, what was going to happen.

Their interaction is what makes the work. It cannot even be properly rehearsed without an audience member sitting opposite. Making the performance involves making the space in which the audience member is allowed - encouraged - to be active, be open, be creative. A space in which they feel comfortable enough to think about things, talk about things that at, say, 10 o’clock that morning, they hadn’t thought about for days, weeks, even years. A space in which, at the end of it, they feel comfortable enough to say of what they have given you, ‘Yes, that’s fine, I’m happy for you to share that with other people.’

Early last year I was invited to speak at a Cafe Scientifique event called Sing to Me Muse - an event exploring inspiration and asking the old question, where do ideas come from? There was a great panel of speakers, and we were asked to give a short presentation and run a workshop activity. Drawn back to our story-exchanging work, I came up with something that combined the two - a way of swapping ideas that had inspired me with things that had inspired the participants.

It seemed to go well, and in Edinburgh it grew into a four-artist plus host, durational event at the brilliant Forest Fringe. What really struck me was that the really simple format worked as as a chat in a cafe and as a team performance in a festival. This year the format has shifted for a couple of other incarnations, running in the breaks of TEDxYork - bookended by mini TED talks, and slipping back into Forest Fringe for the Edgelands flash-conference in August.

Of all the story-exchanging projects we've done, Inspiration Exchange is the most direct, from the descriptive title to the mechanism of performance. It strikes me that in these interactive pieces, that I think of partly as 'conversation generators', the key is to find a clear mechanism, a simple rule, that allows the conversation to happen.

I'm excited that this weekend, as part of Compass Festival of Live Art, I'll be running a six hour Inspiration Exchange in Leeds City Museum. As well as festival and symposium delegates, I hoping there will be an audience who just find me, tucked away in the 'back-to-back terraced house', and who might be interested to stay for a chat.

Time & Space at Bloc Projects

We've got a busy weekend coming up, with work on in Sheffield, Leeds and Coxwold in North Yorkshire. More on the latter two will follow, but in Sheffield we're opening Time & Space, a microfestival of film and video work at Bloc Projects and The Rutland Arms.

The programme at Bloc is a changing series of video installations:

Opening night, with bar: Friday 25th November, 6-8pm
plus Saturday & Sunday 26th & 27th, 12-6pm
FLOORS
by Lauren Stanley & Third Angel

Film-maker Lauren Stanley was intern on the rehearsal process for What I Heard About The World last year: researcher, documenter, tech assistant plus video artist. She made several pieces in response to the process, including this piece, capturing the moment just before the doors open before a performance and using Chris Thorpe's opening song. For Time & Space we're presenting Floors, a response to the atmosphere of the rehearsal room, rather than the activity in it. Lauren writes:

Floors was born from a moment of daydreaming. Following the shadows that Alex, Chris and Jorge made as they paced around on the shiny rehearsal room floor, I noticed the patterns and relationships that were forming in that section of What I Heard About the World were reflected by the floor. They moved around each other, but they stood alone and told their stories separately. The floor was a map of the world, but that meant something slightly different to each of them.

Even a map of the world has a point of view, a reflection of the makers’ location, politics and outlook. Floors has come to represent my map, what I really have heard about the world. Many fragments, tones and single beams of light, all linked to the rest but working separately. Each can easily be lost but all affect the result. And it will probably look slightly different to you.

Monday 28th & Tuesday 29th, 12 - 6pm
THE KAROSHI FILMS
Third Angel

Karoshi, a research process taking its name from a Japanese word meaning "death from overwork", fed into a number of Third Angel projects, from Hurrysickness to Presumption. For Time & Space we are gathering together the video pieces it inspired or fed into:

Realtime  A man, waiting, in a waiting room, wants to know if you know just how long a minute is?
Alone Together  A documentary response to the 50 performer intervention Standing Alone, Standing Together.
Technology  A man tries to understand how technology works, how light-clocks work, how a mug works, and explain it to you.
A Perfect Circle  A woman performs a ritual of travelling and returning, and tries to describe life on planet earth, as witnessed by the images on the Voyager spacecraft.

Wednesday 30th November, 12 - 6pm
THE TRAVELS FILMS
Christopher Hall & Alexander Kelly

A series of highly manipulated video pieces, originally made in response to Third Angel's Pleasant Land travels, exploring travel - by vehicle, and by foot, long distance and local - across the UK.

We round the microfestival off at The Rutland Arms at 8pm, Thursday 1st December, with the return of PROJECTOR, our curated short film night, featuring The Very Hard Film Quiz: