This is my first ever blog by the way.......

I’m one of the ‘new ones’ on Broken Chords and I can honestly say I’m having a marvellous time. It’s been wonderful to work with Charlotte and Janusz and Patrycja and Lee and Darren and Ellie and Valentina and Stefano, God it’s like the Von Trapp family. We have actually laughed our heads off quite a lot which I imagine didn’t happen with such frequency during the devising process knowing what it’s all about. Ah the luxury of stepping into a role. It’s a great piece to do. Thrilling and exciting, I totally love the church section as I’m getting a big kick out of leaping over all the chairs. I’m also totally loving leaping in and out of the arms of the company macho men, they are really strong! I have to use all my will power not to yell ‘I’m a Lady’ at the end of all the meaty duets we do. I’m doing some of the most romantic duets of my entire career …… and about time too.

Next up is learning ‘Punch Drunk’ to tour alongside Broken Chords. I imagine it might feel like more of a ‘punch up’ than having anything to do with imbibing a few glasses of Pinot Grigio during rehearsals. I am slightly terrified of the lack of costume and have occasional thoughts of emergency liposuction to prepare me for spending time in the public eye in just my bra and pants. Being one of the company ‘oldsters’ I’m wondering if Charlotte might be up for adapting the roles of the twins. Valentina and I could do a very fine job as Sicilian Widows. I’m sure our superb acting and comedy skills could penetrate heavy black skirt suits with matching veils, I think Chanel is doing a nice line in them this season.

This week we are performing in Leeds and it’s quite an important one for me as my sister, a head teacher, is coming and she is dragging 14 members of her staff and her aerobics instructor with her. The pressure is on especially as she hates it when I swear and I have to say the F word a few times in the show. I’m worried she is going to heckle and give me a ticking off mid performance. I’ll probably get detention. I’m going to have to work extra hard to maintain my composure.

Rahcel Krische

Patrycja's blog - 8th February 07

This is the third big tour of Broken Chords. Although I feel like we have performed this show for ages, now and again I unexpectedly discover another internal, “mini” layer of structure to it. And that is partly due to the 3 new members of cast.

New blood, new energy, different backgrounds. It is great to watch them inhabiting the roles of previous performers, making their own mark on it. They put lots of heart and enthusiasm into it. You can’t not appreciate it.

The performance has got slightly different colours now, TC and Alex’s texts have got different dynamics – now spoken by Rachel and Stefano, Valentina tries to kill herself with a slightly more mature attitude, yet still the scene doesn’t loose its bizarreness and desperation.

The show has a new life… but on the other hand it proves that no one is irreplaceable… and that is quite sad in a way.

Patrycja

Janusz's blog - February 07

It’s been 2 weeks since we came back from a week residency in Newcastle. The company has 3 new members who took over the roles of Aurora, Alex and TC. The rehearsal period was quite intense - 2 weeks of rehearsing Test Run (new piece) and Broken Chords. As soon as I saw the schedule for the first 3 weeks of work, I was already dreaming about those days off.

It’s not been an easy task for me to do, Test Run is a very physically demanding solo and Broken Chords is an emotionally charged ensemble work. Two different pieces rehearsed at the same time. I found it quite hard at some moments to suddenly switch my brain from one piece to another. And that for me was quite a big challenge. But we have got through it very well and managed to get it all in a good shape after all.

It has been quite an intense and tiring week in Newcastle however, very enjoyable. I was happy and looked forward to perform Test Run again (after its premiere in London last autumn) and at the same time scared about doing two shows in a row on Wednesday (one at 6:30pm and one at 8pm) - basically a one hour break to rest, dry the t-shirt, drink lots of water… Surprisingly the second show happened to be the best one yet. I don’t have any idea how it works that I can sweat and get worn out for half an hour to be then doing it again…and do it well. Patrycja and Matt rocked their violins, I felt lifting my legs even higher. That was a very good and enjoyable performance. I was very proud of myself.

On Friday evening we did the first show of Broken Chords. From the first scene we have felt very connected within the group and that is particularly useful for this work. I felt confident with new members, they all did a great job and they are a good fun as well. I was also happy to perform it again with the original cast members. After not seeing them for a long time, it was a pleasure to do it again. Ellie seem to be much stronger, Darren makes me laugh even more, Patrycja always in the centre of attention (love her humor).

It was a very good beginning of the tour. I am already excited about the next one. But now I will take a moment to relax and rest over next couple of days. Oh yes...

Catharsis
This is common in theatre where another "world" is opened and people experience something different from their ordinary, daily life. Catharsis is the original and oldest function in theatre.
In Broken Chords there is a "double" catharsis - this origional function and the one that is described within the work, which is the catharsis of suffering the end of a love story.

Sacrifice
One of the themes is the attempt of the "Director" to resolve her personal problems with the performance (cruel, cynical but so real and comic). The other is the performers sacrifice the director’s intended performance by trying to speak about "real feelings".

Ambiguity
Of course all and nothing is real: it's "only" a performance. We are playing on the stage. But when Rachel (in TC’s role) interrupts the show for the first time, a fog of paradox and reality stay in the space, in the chairs (remembering a false Brecht but more Shakespeare, of course, and Lorca or Pirandello). Is this moment true? It is not? It is a symbol? Or a mystery?

Double
This ambiguity creates a shadow. Starting from the first interruption everything could happen. It is not "only" a dance performance. Like Artaud said this double helps the audience find themselves on the stage.

Catastrophe
We are trying to play a broken show and it's getting worse and worse. This tragedy is the classical engine of clowns. Like them, we are obliged to work a lot because every "accident" must be believable.This catastrophe is the loathing mirror and the crashing down of love.

The First Degree
Louis XIV was a good dancer. He commanded a lot of music to Lulli for dancing.
For me, almost at the end, there is this Versaille's dance of Lee. I don’t know why this dance is so important for me: a solar moment with a great, open address and powerful, glorious music. Lee is asking something. Remembering Dominique Merci.

Personal position
I'm not a real performer but a little inventor. It was difficult for me to take the place that another performer has created in music, character and movement. More than this: I'm foreigner with very bad English. For making a performance I should be able "to read between the lines". And more: a pain in my back has stolen all trust in my body.

But the most difficult thing was trying to avoid Charlotte's direction and replacing it with my own poetry. I use my experience to take protection with some distance. It's as if every moment, without judgement, she is saying to me: "Let yourself fall into my world". I had to admit that she really trusts in me (maybe even more than myself). I had only to trust in her. I'm doing it and it is good. I'm sitting on my chair.

Stefano

Broken Chords 2007 Tour

In spring 2006 Broken Chords was recast with Stefano Fogher, Rachel Krische and Valentina Formetni. The blogs that follow reflect on rehearsing and touring the work for a third and final time in the UK.

26 November 2005

The tour is finished now. To be honest, don’t even know where to start. I am back at home now in Poland with all my friends I missed so much, with the family and the loved one. They are the biggest support for me in the hardest times. I feel like I have changed so much.

We have been in many places, every place different from one another, big cities, small cities, even villages. Big and small venues. What does it change in the way of performing, in delivering the audience the emotions, the real emotions, the emotions we all, as company, wanted to share with everyone? That is what we all call a commitment to the work. Each venue was different, Does it change things? No. The delivery was still the same. The intensity of the performance and performers was always the same. There were good and bad shows. We have been with each other for more than 3 months, we rehearsed, travelled, performed. We shared something special. Shared the joy of being together, we got upset – we got support, we were down. This last 3 and a half months were a study and a good lesson in how to communicate, how to talk and the most important of all, how to listen. At the moment I am rambling in my thoughts but it is difficult to describe all what happened. I am trying very hard. It was intense, depressing, funny, upsetting, precious.

Back here, in Poland, back to reality? I have never felt like this before, the moment I came back and saw the same walls in my apartment. Nothing changed but there was something weird about it. It’s hard to come back after such a long time and see all the things in the same place, in the same order. Just me, not in the right place. I am still thinking of what has happened. Work changes people, changes people every time. The spring tour will start sooner than we think!

Janusz Orlik

production week 3

production week 2

production week

19th September 2005

Slowly everything is taking shape. That could be a conclusion of taday. Maybe it's in a way strange to say that on a last week of working process but that's what is happening. I think everyone gets slowly an idea of what it is really about, trying to find connections, being involved in other people's scenes, trying to find a through line in the whole piece, and emotional content of it all.
Our bodies are getting tired, people get ill, a bit frustrated, impatient, aware of not having enough time to put all the things together, to perform at our best, to be satisfied with everything what we do.
What makes us to continue?
What makes us struggle?
What makes us move?
What makes us do more that we are able to?
Every day new ideas come, small bits to each scene. Darren making noise with chairs, Alex interrupting Patrycja's violin playing, Aurora with cello playing with flamenco rhythm, TC with a gun, crying and forcing everybody to move chairs and clean the space. I am not satisfied in playing that game, stepping away and I am choosing to change the atmosphere again. That's what it is about. It has been a good day of work. I am tired and falling asleep, standing...

Janusz

Day Thirty Two

Who is hiding behind big brown eyes and long arms?

Someone who is lost

Someone who is trying their hardest

Someone who is looking for themselves

Someone who is gay

Someone who is the youngest

Someone who always loses

Someone who is self loathing

Someone who is second best

Someone who is always ok

Someone who has a lot to learn

Someone who needs to ask questions

Someone who is trying to fit in

Someone who wants to be loved

Someone who is furthest away from his place of birth

Someone who has no rhythm

Someone who wants to have all the answers

Someone who is eager

Someone who is grateful for being here

Someone who wants to please others

Someone who is balding

Someone who is always on the end of the line

Someone who will be found

Darren

Could we try that one last time again please?

Monday12th. A long, long day.
Running and re-running sections of work to try to meld the things that worked from four different improvisations of three different scenes into the opening of the show.
Patrycja processing. Patrycja frustrated. Dropping in and out of deadly serious and comic modes. Making a hash of it. Rifle throught the cliches to find the new. Making a meal of it. Rushing it. Not feeling it. Feeling it. Nailing it. Missing the mark. New stuff comes out when we least expect it. I am confused but we are inching towards something that works.

Tuesday 13th.













GET THE GUN TC.
STICK TO YOUR GUNS.
FACE YOUR DEMONS.
SMILE EVERYONE.
DO AS YOU ARE FUCKING WELL TOLD.
STOP FUCKING THINGS UP DARREN.
DANCE ELLIE, DANCE.
STAND OVER THERE AND FUCKING DANCE LIKE YOU MEAN IT.
PLAY THE FUCKING MUSIC ALEX.
MAKE ME LAUGH PATRYCJA
MAKE ME CRY AURORA
CLAP YOUR FUCKING HANDS EVERYONE
DANCE OR I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU ALL

Make the questions answer the questions.
Find chaos in the order and order the chaos.
Take the harshest realities in the room and twist the knife til it hurts.
Come on guys.
Wake up.
Be dangerous.
Be bold. Take the risk.
The process offers all the answers. They are all already here in this room.
We just need to get better at seeing what is already here.

Insecurities about age
Insecurities about experience
Insecurities about dance as a form
Insecurities about being left out of the picture
Insecurities about not having a set designer
Insecurities about using classical music
Insecurities about too much heavy shit
Insecurities about whether I have ANY FUCKING IDEA what I'm talking about.

Vulnerability is the key.
Strip away the placement
Strip away the denial
Expose the frustration
Expose all the hiding
Drop the masks
Slide in and out of scenes
Let the dance lift off and fly.
Watch it crash and burn back down to earth.
Be circular not linear.
Build it up.
Break it all down.
Break it down right in front of their wide eyed faces.






Slide in and out of scenes.
Make the fragments form a whole.

Wayne 6

12/9/05
People are machines at times, ready to be put into action when called upon running on a battery pack that is none changeable but rechargeable all having a certain amount of power before using there reserve supply and finally the power supply dies needing to be until fully recharged. This is the image I have of the performers today, in the morning they seemed to be functioning as normal (although not as up beat as I have seen them at times during this rehearsal process) listening to Charlotte with a vague sense of enthusiasm, performing in class as though performing routine tasks that they are programmed to do like the order picking machine or the car assembly machine. Class finishes and its time for a small boost of energy not from the mains power supply but from the inhaled injection of nicotine or the inhaled injection of caffeine then its back to the production line going over routines and sequences that they must feel they have done a 1001 times each time with varying amendments from Charlotte (the control centre)
whose power supply is sufficiently larger than that of the others, this continues till past 6 (clocking off time). Whilst this was happening I myself was functioning as my own machine as my program changes on a day to day basis, this morning I am with the others touching, moving breathing this afternoon my program is changed into a production line taking chairs from the studio, making the necessary amendments then placing them back into the studio and taking more chairs from the studio making amendments, putting them back into the studio taking some more and so on.

We all do what is necessary to play our part in this production, we are all cogs in the VDT ‘Broken Cords’ machine when we are all running off the same program the machine works regardless of how we feel, sometimes the machine is more economical that at others and sometimes it shuts down, but it always restarts and it works.

Days of thunder

People are late in. Oversleeping.
We watch a bit of an improvisation and see ourselves in action.
Slow atmosphere pervades the room..
People are waiting for a direction and I am not sure I have one to offer, despite thinking all night about this.
Its going to be a difficult birth, this one. Its in the breach position and it doesn't want to come out yet.

Yesterday raised only questions and there hasn't been the time to find many answers before exposing ourselves to fresh eyes. Ruth Ben Tovin is dramaturging the piece. I phone her and nearly ask her not to come in - I feel too lost. I sense the group can't deal with any more exposure. Ruth reassures that we dont need to 'present' to her. She is here to help.

The work needs an outside eye now.
I cant see the wood for the trees
What to keep? What to throw away?

I think I know what works
I think I understand what could work
I think I know what to cut out
All this clarified by the terror of showing other people














We stumble through a new suggested order
Patrycja lightens the mood, tripping over herself as only she can
Darren plays the eager fool
TC sweats it out
Aurora is frowning a lot
Lee looks knackered
Alex is quieter than usual
Janusz has his mind in other things
Ellie seems ok
Jim is mending chairs
I am hopeful (it cannot get any worse)
I put the wrong choreography in the wrong setting

Lunchtime

We give it another go with an audience
Ruth, Huw (sound technician), Jane (General Manager), Jim (Lighting Designer) come in. Everything shifts in these moments. The rehearsal room shifts in to a theatre space. A sharp intake of breath.
We ham it up
We play it down
The atmosphere shifts
Bodies are weighty
Good energy
Good choices made out of frustration and tiredness
We all want to find something out.












Rub things up the wrong way and see what happens
Test the material
Stop being precious
Murder your baby
Less music
More humour
Send it up
Knock it down
Face it
Deal with the problems
Work them through
Find out if other people find the same things as amusing / moving / sensual as I do.
Find out more through other peoples' gaze.
These people laugh.
These people go quiet
Good, then.
Not so bad then?

Really useful to hear Ruth's comments.
Affirmative. Calm. Spot on. Clear.

We have some good stuff
She is asking all the right questions.
She says the performers have all embodied a weightiness that carries the kind of emotionality that I want to express in this piece but that sometimes it slips away in the dancing. How to maintain a sense of loss whan leaping into action. How to also find lightness and play. She says we can be darker than this (don't shy away from it; make what you need to make). This is good to hear.

A new journey has just begun and I look forward to the next time.
I have some support just when I need it.

Wayne 5

Today has been a bizarre day to say the least. This morning Charlotte and Lee were in a meeting so we did our own warm ups which were fine but its not the same start to the day as a company class is. It was to be honest quite depressing this morning. I’m sitting on the train waiting to go back to my life in Doncaster which runs parallel to the life I am currently leading in Sheffield trying to get it straight in my head why today was depressing, as I think some teenage kids are shouting, swearing slagging superman off and generally being your average yet slightly moshy teenage kids and it hits me hard, right smack bang in the middle of my face. ENERGY. The teenage kids seem to have far too much. The energy in the studio today was strange somehow it was more that low it at times was desolate. It could be that time of the rehearsal process where peoples brains and bodies have had enough information but it seems more that that to me. People were not their usual vibrant selves. If you have ever seen the “invasion of the body snatches” you may get an image of people walking, moving and functioning as people but not as themselves. I am feeling quite lost today also I think its because I’m hazy on my role as it seems to vary from day to day today Charlotte reminded me of one of my roles that of a documentation which I guess she feels has been slightly over looked so I have spend the whole day filming and taking pictures, I don’t really feel like I have seen anything. Maybe I have missed something,
Maybe I will find out,
Maybe I won’t.
It may be that tomorrow all is fine we shall see I guess
It’s a difficult time, I think we are all beginning to feel the strain of our respective jobs and roles lets hope the sun is shining down on us tomorrow and the cloud that has covered us today has broken.

The pit of despair

What a day today
No sleep tonight
No rest
Questions
Confusions
More crying
Tired faces and aching bodies
So much effort and for what?
How to push through
How to carry on
Where is the sense of play
Games played too hard
Games not played hard enough
No hot spots
Its too much of the same
No troughs
No bows
Nothing to hang on to
Facing the challenge
Thinking things through
Not walking away
Stick to your guns
First idea is always the best
Don't take the easy options











Where are we?
Where are we?
Who are these people in front of my face?
What are they doing here?
What have they got to say for themselves?
Why am I putting them through all this?

Trying too hard to feel
Trying too hard to dance
Silence
Music
I hate these fucking chairs
Silence again
Empty bodies
Empty faces
Endless discussions
Confused defeated faces
Confused defeated bodies
Minor breakthroughs
Thinking
Sketching
Mapping / re-mapping
Structuring/ re-structuring
Thinking / re-thinking
Its a desperate mess
We are all full of doubt
Nothing seems to stick














We know what we just ran did not work at all
It did not function
It fell apart
It fell out of our hands
We sat in a silence even I couldn't fill.

A good day then

Day Twenty Five - Wiping

wiping, with warm water and a bit of soap, the lipstick stains off my safari beige Gap knickers, I had a thought…: honestly, I wish this would be yours…

I miss you and keep washing
am trying not to blame myself as option A and hope that I can meet you with a big smile and fresh flowers at the airport.

a relationship is the bond (or not to bond) between two people…it can’t just be my fault (pushing option A to the limit)..

just as I started losing ground on option A, plan B, sprang out of nowhere, wearing tye-dye jeans and a ripped Metallica t-shirt: destiny! he presented himself

I must have read somewhere that who you are and everything you do is in the stars already (not Voltaire nor the Metro)

plan B seems to be having a positive effect on me, even if temporarily

it was meant to be, I couldn’t help myself, am truly sorry, but it was stronger than me, than the bond (or not to bond)

I wish I could take it all back……..or do I? I did enjoy it and if I push my Luck (destiny’s child), I would even admit that, maybe I would fancy it again…

I blowdry my knickers so you won’t get suspicious and will buy you some flowers before I get to the airport…I know, I’ll buy you an uneven number, because an even number is bad luck..

love you, hope you never read this

big kiss
yours forever

Wayne 4

Well its Friday again and as usual I have been away for two days and so much seems to have happened. This morning we had a relaxing and improvisation class, which I loved it made me, feel part of the company again. Some times being away 2 days a week can make you feel out of it a little. John Avery (the composer) is coming in today to see the material to date so the performers spent the rest of the morning going over the formed material so far. FUCK I did not realize that there was so much, Charlotte has formed about 30mins worth over the last 2 days. I feel very privileged to be in on this process but I also feel very lost. How did it get to this stage? Even as I write this the performers are going over some material that I have never seen before although it I sketchy they all seem to know in roughly what they are doing, “the line up section’. Charlotte and the rest of the company are laughing at Lee diving around the stage in one moment then performing a section from swan lake (maybe not swan lake but it looked very balletic anyway) -national dance awards next time Lee. I feel tired just watching – God I wish I was up there with them, next time this process is only fueling the need that I have to get back to the world of professional dance performance.

Day Twenty Four

sad black
black sad
I’m getting mad

death love
love death
I’m losing my breath

blood tears
tears blood
rhymes with flood

smile cry
cry smile
away hundreds of miles

mind empty
empty mind
rewind

end beginning
beginning end
choose a different land

a.luboska

When is it just a job?

When is it just a job?...

When should you not take things personally?...
How do you learn to know when something is worth shouting/crying/screaming
about and when you can laugh or shrug it off?
How do you accept that you do things wrong or badly?
When should you let a certain feeling go?... and why do some persist while
others disappear...
How can you break down the barriers?every day?without becoming too
desperate?
How do you not lose confidence?or not build negativity?or not forget your
own views?

When is it just a job?...
When is it more than that?at what point does it take over?become more?
When do you embrace it and when do you resist?
How do you understand the intentions of others?How can you read their
thoughts?When do you feel safe?When can you just be yourself?
At what point do you give up? Is that ever an option?

How can you understand your own confusion? When do you stop questioning?...

aargh...

Ellie

Day Twenty Three

You made me feel different like never before.
You looked at me and it happened. It never happened that way.
Your eyes saw, your lips moved and words slipped out, your ears heard that laughter, your nose smelled a good perfume.
Your body was still, so confident, so beautiful, every single bit of it.
What happened then?
Was I questioning myself?
Was I thinking what would happen?
Was I aware of our future?
Did I know how it will look like?
We pulled towards each other and knew that this is it.
How do we call it? Love at first sight? Or we just knew we’re made for each other?
Felt like we are able to breathe the same air, look in the same direction, turn away at the right moment, share thoughts without any judgements, kiss each other’s lips with tenderness, touch each other’s bodies like we’ve never been touched before.
I hope I will never say the wrong things to you.
I hope I will never leave you. Forever…
I hope I will never fight against you.
I hope that all I have said you will remember. Forever…
Such tension sitting next to you on that first night, just you and me, alone, for the first time. Lean my head on your shoulder, the movie we watched was not that important at that moment (although it was about love).
I was shivering, I was afraid, I was excited, I was waiting, I was hoping,
I was with you.
And you felt the same, I know. You can’t disagree.
We made love, we loved each other, we were together, we created the whole picture. At last… A picture which stayed with us since then. A picture which doesn’t need a copy. A picture with colours missing – it’s just not enough of them. That picture is priceless and we paint it together every day. Hope it’s never going to be finished.
I love you…

J

Day Twenty Two

Well its been almost one month……. I feel as if I am a computer being re programmed to move in a totally different way…..I’m having to train my body to move in a more functional, organic and grounded way….Which is a good thing.. The warm up classes in the morning are focused to making you move this way…. some days I feel as if I’m coping really well with it and than other days where I feel like I’m only just learning to dance again…. and its hard not to get into a negative cycle…. I want to be able to drop my centre and move as fluidly as the other dancers….. I guess it takes time…. I’m also reprogramming my emotional response to how I create dance tasks….. I’ve never worked in this way before and it’s really different from being just a dancer in a space for dance sake to having a really emotional reason for being there…. So the programming is going well and it will be great when I feel comfortable about who I am on stage….

Darren

Wayne 3

How do I feel?
That’s a hard question today, I'm tired emotionally and physically but at the same time I'm on a complete high. As Lee is not here today I got to fill in for him during the line chair sequence. It’s an extra level of dancing for me as I could begin to contextualize some of the movement material generated during class. I got to dance, as crude a form as it was. I also have begun to see Charlotte’s choreography in a slightly different way.
Not that she is doing anything different to when I have observed her on other days but as I was stood in front of her directly taking part in her ideas you kind of get a more of a sense as to where things are going.

Day Twenty

As yesterday, we began to work on the scene which contains lots of running, jumping, falling, chasing. Everything is happening between six lines of chairs and five gaps between all of them. I hope that this will be a scene which will make everyone go “wow!”. Well, it has a potential to look interesting and dangerous. It is dangerous to jump over chairs with no support, no hands used. With a bit of practice and preparation I try not to fall over, loose my cue or make the chairs not to fall down as well.

Very furious classical music background on top of it. Annoying sound of strings, very quick, not really beautifully harmonic. Great!!! Patrycja and Alex are doing very good job. Every time when I hear it, makes me want to destroy all of that beautiful picture right after we set up that scene with nearly ten minutes of Biber’s “Passacaglia”. Music packed with such emotions, intensity and unique beauty.
What does Biber think about writing that piece of music?
What’s in my mind when I hear the first notes coming out of Patrycja’s violin?

Sadness, loss, disaster, tears, struggle, beauty…

Makes me cry and shiver each time I hear it. All my thoughts are mixed up and in a completely different place. Don’t know what to think of anymore. If it moves me that much, will it move the others? The audience? Will they feel the same about it? Would it move them? Would it make them cry?
Got left with all those thoughts until next Monday…

I’m sorry for not being with you right now.
I’m sorry for not waking up with you.
I’m sorry for talking nonsense early in the morning.
I’m sorry for not washing up dishes when you need them.
I’m sorry for not emptying the litter when it’s full.
I’m sorry for being irritating.
I’m sorry for pointing at your mistakes.
I’m sorry for turning my back to while we fall asleep.
I’m sorry for forcing you to do things you don’t want to do.
I’m sorry when you feel sorry.
I’m sorry for my absence.
I’m sorry for getting drunk.
I’m sorry for my mistakes.
I’m sorry for my tears you don’t like to see.
I’m sorry for all my apologies.

J.

To chair or not to chair

To chair or not to chair?
The dilemma grinds
Her wooden teeth

To space or not to space?
Our raised eyebrows
Find no comfort

To floor or not to floor?
The smell of paint
Is fading

To dress or not to dress?
The smell of mold
Persists

To laugh or not to cry?
The difference is
In breathing

To listen or not to listen?
The jackpot’s there
For the taking

To play or not to play?
Howwhenwhatwhy
Withwhom?

To shout or not to speak?
The difference is
In breathing (recycled)

To hide or not to hide?
The beauty is
The choice

To run or not to run?
To walk would be
The same

To stop or not to stop?
We talked. We stopped
We’ll talk again.

To look or not to look?
To see is in
The breathing (re-recycled)

To dance or not to dance?
The secret is
Together

Day Nineteen

lubos is dead!
lubos is dead!
lubos is dead!
lubos is dead!
lubos is dead!
lubos is dead!
lubos is dead!
lubos is dead!
lubos is dead!
lubos...? could you clean up your mess, please?
thanks

Day Eighteen

Too tired to be poetic with my 40-year-old bones creaking in their sockets and my knees bruised from lifting. I’m waiting to rest my body and rest my head. The studio was swimming with possibilities but the day ended with a heavy air.


It is a crucial time and today we were struggling to remain flexible in thinking and playful in spirit. With so many possibilities we have to let go of ideas that no longer seem relevant and leave them at the door. If they creep back in again they have earned their right to be there.

Tomorrow morning the sea of chairs will be waiting for us in our studio. It is a room of many chairs. They are beautiful, sombre, awkward, good for sitting on, easy to break, easy to be with if you like being lonely, they are demanding, very still, and gain strength in numbers.


TC

Day Seventeen

One of those days, when everyone finds a corner in the studio, busy with their own task. Basically we were trying to recreate a few situations which were quite good in yesterday’s improvisation. To be honest there was not that much to recreate, because the impro wasn’t that good. Really, NOT very good at all.
And I felt quite bad after it, asking myself, why on earth The God Of Theatre abandoned me? Empty head, empty body. From the other hand, it was quite useful to go through it, even big parts of it felt painful. Painful to DO, and painful to WATCH as well. Useful to go through all that awkwardness, hopeless, lost, embarrassment. These feelings are close to the theme of the piece we are trying hard to create (but why I still feel shite?).

John Cage said :”If I’ve asked 32 questions, why can’t I ask another 32 more?” Still more questions than the answers. But maybe to ask a really good question is more important than to find immediately an answer?

Attacking Alex with Vivaldi. Poor composer, if he only cold see how I rape his music…Violin sound can taste as chocolate cake with too much sugar in it,, but they can sound as a razor blade as well. And I like it. Dangerous weapon- the sound.



Patrycja

Mr and Mrs Musician

Wayne 2

Big group improvisation
For Charlotte I get the impression that art has no price!!!!!!!!

£20 chairs are repeatedly thrown and broken, words are spoken and shouted, fake blood is spilt like cheap wine at a wedding, water is drunk, thrown and then drunk again taklen powder is used to cover the performers then mixed with flour and water to make a glue like substance and again used to cover the performers. At times it appears the performers look deep within themselves and pour their heart and sole into their action regardless of aesthetic quality.


Beauty integrity

Alone


Organized chaos

Thoughts in my head

Simplicity connection


No connection solo together


For me it’s the understated moments that work – a look a moment of connection between two people.The smell of talcum powder takes me back to Sunday evenings when I was a child, throwing powder all over the room but actually getting very little on myself.

Week Three

The end of the week. I am beginning to count the days. The initial burst of energy of ten people in a room has died out as we all recognise the complexity of the task in hand. What the hell are we making? Where is all this emotional stuff taking us? Is it all too self absorbed? How can we find the metaphors. How can we avoid making statements about relationships?

I miss talking to someone who knows how to make theatre. I miss this like a hole in the head. I need a sounding board outside of this room. I need someone I can trust.
I run out of steam. I am shattered. I need some reassurance. At this stage I recognise that the performers cannot give me this. You have to get lost to get found. Throw away the things that you love to find out what is underneath.

I read Aurora's text from the other day and her words move me. She understands so much. She has found something out this week. She is witty in her explorations. She has a lightness of touch and a spring in her step.

Lists of Apologies.
Aurora says she is sorry for being so small. She says she is sorry for the bloodstains on the bedsheets. She says she is sorry for many things.
Lists of Apologies.
Lists of Thank Yous.
Lists of Fuck Yous.

We talk about how to lift the work out of the darkness and weightiness that my mood and the pile of chairs have offered us. A lot of what we have is flimsy. The briefest of sketches. The slightest of ideas.

We exposed our sketches to John and Colin and Amanda and Jim yesterday to offer starting points for music.
We agree that -

Darrens long prologue could work- could be funny and pathetic
Everyone funstionally shifting all the chairs into place as Janusz dances a solo is beautiful
TC in the space searching, looking lost and alone is very strong
Aurora knocking them all over and running through the space laughing is gorgeous
Ellie rushing diagonal has potential as she weare herself out through exhaustion
The group flurries could go somewhere.
TC and Janusz duet stays with me. Could it work in a space full of chairs?
Could all the material work in the space full of chairs?

What to focus on?
What to forget?
How to involve the musicians?
Where is the humour in this space?
The humour seems only able to exist when it is built on vulnerability and pathos - its all still very dark.

I cant work out how restrictive to be.
How much spacial transformation? Or is that just a gimmick?
How to speed up?
When to slow down?
The space seems heavy and slow.
Weightiness
Heaviness
Where are we?
There is beauty in this weightiness, but how much can an audience take?

I am conscious of Pina Baush's piece Cafe Muller. I havent seen it but I have read about it. Have I set myself up for a fall?

What are the right questions to be asking at this stage?
How much longer can I let things drift?
How better to apply myself when my head feels so tired?

Day Fourteen

Early morning started, as usual, with warm up. Then we tried to remind ourselves of movement material we have got so far. Not full out, still with an awareness that we are not sure about some bits, even counts. Everything happens so quick that at some point you don’t know what you did a minute ago. Trying to answer all questions which appear it’s not easy. And then new questions appear and exhaustion comes and while we are unable to move anymore we talk about what we’ve seen. What to change, which things have a potential to become something meaningful. I hope we’ll get somewhere in the end…

Our watches showed that is 6pm. We all felt a bit brain dead at that time. Cold pint in the Rutland pub helps me to calm down, relax, letting my thoughts and concentration go somewhere else. But still I can’t forget and not think of what had happened today…
Now it’s a bit cold to sit here, empty glasses announced that it’s time to go home, Get some rest? Or thinking about phone call I might receive in about an hour. (……………………….) Yes, we talk, finally! And I still can’t hold back and begin to tell what I’ve experienced today…

The whole space covered with chairs.

One on top of another.

Complete silence.

Feels so lonely, so dangerous, so empty in a strange kind of way.

Something just happened here, a minute ago.

People touching each other, jumping on top of each other, suspended in the air, people crying, letting out their anger and frustration, people sharing their fears, thoughts about themselves, exposing their hidden nature. Some of it can be really scary, not expected, surprising. All of it – very honest…

Time to go to bed… Another sleepless night?

Janusz

Do you know...

“no matter how much I struggle with this world, the distance created between us just brings us closer” E. Cioran

“I don’t have ideas. I have obsessions. Anyone can have ideas. Nobody has ever fallen down from ideas.” E. Cioran.

Marriage is the politically correct name for the make-shift purgatory between suicide and murder. The proverbial eye of the beholder isn’t big enough for the both of us.

Relationships and felatiodrips

…you know how when you cry it’s waves and waves…I cried once, I remember it was like solid, no waves, nothin’…for twenty minutes or somethin’ thought I was gonna pass out, couldn’t even inhale properly…it was like exhaling cement for twenty minutes without inhaling…shit…

you know how sometimes when you go diving in the sea and your foot gets caught in some coral shit and you look above at the 4 meters of salted water and the surface smiles at you and waves goodbye as it seems to be going away and how at that moment you know exactly, to the decimal point, the amount of usable oxygen you still have at the top of your lungs and for one second you think you’re not gonna’ make it, but a bigger wave then the one that got you stuck comes along and releases your ankle and fills your eyes and ears with bottomsand and you flail your limbs about in all directions ‘till the back of your left hand breaks the surface and is instantly dried by the scorching sun and then the rest of you, still flailing about, breaks surface like a marlin on his last attempt to rid himself of that piece of pointy, steely sea bass that’s hurting his jaw, first in pain and then scared ‘cause you’re still alone at large and how you then half-swim, half-float on to the beach, still crying, your ears still full of bottomsand, a bleeding ankle and nothing more and you know how then you’re so fucking exhausted that almost instantaneously you fall asleep only to wake up in the middle of the night with half your face covered in sand that glued itself to the dried up tears and your ankle had also stopped bleeding mended by sand pebbles and how your first instinct is to go back in the water to wash yourself even though you know it is cold and how after, if you do so, as soon as that first wave hits the knees, you’re scared again?
Do you know what I mean?...shit…

or you know how when you’re sitting in the train, on your reserved seat, reading, a book that may or may not be considered as “cool”, but you’re open to what others have to say and why and you notice, mostly diagonally right ,in front of you, a pretty girl that smiles everytime you lose your gaze in her direction, at the end of every chapter and how she seems mildly interested in your reading material and she won’t avoid your stare like the others and you do that slapstick turn your head “did you mean me?” look that has her smiling again and then you go over to her and you introduce yourself to her just as she was introducing herself to you, so you don’t really catch her name and you avoid putting yourself in situations in which you’d have to use it and how she smiles again and says that she finished the book you’re reading last week and thought it was shit and how you feel a little less “cool” but admire her boldness and then the “bring the water to a boil” small talk period after which you exchange email addresses because she just got a new sim card and doesn’t know her number, unfortunate also that her telephone battery ran out, and how when you decide to invite her for a cold one and maybe some crisps in the restaurant coach, the feedbacked voice of the train manager announces the next station and how she smiles and says goodbye and asks you politely to let her pass your dumbstrucked knees and how you are left with a fake email address and a faint memory of pitchblack eyes and shiny lipbalmed lips and someone gets on the train and claims that the seat you’re in is theirs and you try to move back to your seat and notice a family of four all cramed in it, sleeping and you decide to continue to the restaurant coach and have a cold one with some crisps and a though-over and as the doors close you see the girl talking to a taxi driver on the platform and she sees you and you wave and she smiles back without that certain hint of “I wish I could be there” that you would’ve liked to see and then how you, in your pride, turn your back and buy yourself a cold one and some crisps to have alone and then the same feedbacked voice of the train manager welcoming new passengers and announcing the following stops and how it only then dawns on you that you had passed your stop hours ago, probably during the “bring the water to a boil” small talk period and how you can’t do anything about it and invoke some shit like destiny as a substitute for your foolishness and then you drink your beer and have your crisps feeling completely “uncool”?
Do you know what I mean?...shit…

and have you noticed how people always ask how far away they are from something or somewhere and not how close, ‘cause they need pity and the strongest bond one can form with a stranger is in common sorrow and how a tear will drown a smile anyday and those who try to make you smile when you’re crying do it more for themselves and their guilt of many other things, than for your present situation and how you comply and smile with tears in your eyes, so they can feel better about themselves and their jesus complex?
Do you know what I mean?...shit…

and did you notice how if someone’s eating a burger beside you and you’re appalled and disgusted and proud of your LT on whole wheat, that three days later you’ll be needing a burger more than anything you’ve ever needed in your life and how it obviously has to have extra ketchup and extra mayo and extra mustard which eventually land on your extra favourite shirt and how you’re so addicted to your brain you don’t give a shit and three days later when you see another person downing a burger beside you, you’ll be appalled and disgusted again but this time at yourself?
Do you know what I mean?...shit…

Alex Catona

Day Twelve

You build it so carefully. It was strong and heavy. It took patience to match all the elements. There are not even.
If you removed one, everything could collapse.
Can you replace what was moved?
Will it still have the same form?
If you fill the gap with the same thing will it still be the same or would it change the whole form?
Can you do it?
Or it will still be visible that something is wrong?
Can you find there a place for you or is it not yours anymore?
Do you hold on to the removed element or you let it fall and you live it like it is, or you build it up again?
Are you trying to make it more safe, more predictable, or you throw with no concept?
Do you pace your self differently, do you fill the weight of every element, and can you see the whole picture?
Will you know next time where to stop it from falling?
Will you know if something breaks where to hold it?
Do you have to change to make it your own again?
Will it help if you would change?
Or maybe this part of you was so important that nothing could replace it?

The sense pushes you to an opposite direction. Half of you is still with what you’ve left behind. You get tired, you feel like drifting. One pull and you’re there, back where you started and you take the weight. You still trying to move, you can’t, you let go, you here with your back him falling, you are living, slowly the distance between you increases. You stand, hold your self in a form, put some more layers on you, some more talk on your face, and cover the inside you’ve had. Wait, don’t let the form fall apart. Don’t move.

Aurora

Wayne

I have learnt many new and reiterated some old things from working with the company up to this point, from the use of ones own weight through release technique to the acceptance of the weight of others to various exercises which act as a warm up and as sequences for the development of movement. I feel very inspired today. I’m sat here watching and typing as the performers continue the development of a trace/response improvisation done earlier in the warm up. This morning I was taken to a completely new place it was kind of like how I would imagine and out of body experience. I felt completely awake and alive and aware of everything that was going on in the room but at the same time felt relaxed. During this exercise I had a moment of release from the head, which was the first time I had had that experience.

Day Eleven

“A bitty day…”

Today was lots of bits.

Bit number one: class with trios initiating awareness of body parts and leading into contact/hanging motions/drops/leans. I felt tense, kept thinking my ankle would pop out.


Bit number two: duets, which emerged out of a round-robin exercise. All had different dynamics and qualities.

Bit number three: coffee break…lunch (bit of time in the sun)…coffee break (whilst Lee covers his material before leaving).

Bit number four (a good bit!): trio with Janusz, Darren and I. Quite tricky intricate bits but is developing and starting to go somewhere. TC and Aurora did flamenco footwork bits on chairs, looked very tricky but some great images and possibilities.

Bit number five: PK plays her new music scores, whilst everyone enjoys listening.

Bit number six (end-of-the-day tired-bit): PK plays the violin and encourages people to dance. Particularly nice moments are group foot tappings and the possibilities of emotional or introductory solos coming out of it. We will continue tomorrow.

Charlotte apologised for the bittyness of the day but I like bitty days, felt like we covered a lot and was productive.

Ellie

Friday

Lee and TC continue to make thir duet
Ellie starts to throw the cello around within a duet sketched out last week (the shitty £85 cello- not the one that is worth as much as my house). Ellie is a bit scared of what might happen but attacks the task. The resulting moments of flight of the instrument are surprising and quite beautiful. Dont want to get too gimicky with this but the work seems unusual and deft.
Patrycja and Darren create a trio with her violin. I keep asking PK to pull back from her quasi-classical poses - she is too pointy and looks like a parody of herself. She no longer looks elegant, as she did last week, but comical and she knows what I mean. She is a strong comic actress but I know she can be delicate too. After two hours they move towards what I am looking for.

In the afternoon 90 chapel chairs are delivered and they are almost black. This is not what i wanted. I wanted light wood. I hover around trying to make a decision about whether to take them. Jim and I discuss our options. These chairs are hard to come by. We could always sell them on. We empty the van. We pile them up ay the back of the space and create a kind of wall/backdrop. I shine some lights on them and turn on our shitty home- made chandelier. They look beautiful. TC is moved by how they look abandonned, washed up. The formal row underneath the pile seems an important reminder of a human presence. It looks like something might have happened here before everything was piled up and left alone.

To test out the environment I lead the women through an impro that seems to spring from nowhere.

I think I am playing with the relationship between the women,the mass of chairs and the elegant black dresses I bought ages ago. None of the dresses fit. The chairs seem to slow the movement down with their weighty, dark presence. I think we might actually like them.


Four women, looking funereal, being very funny: silly walks, ridiculous dances, stories told of deep humiliation, grotesque poses, exquisite moments of vulnerablility. Trying to be ladylike and failing, failing, failing. We forgot to video this. I make some notes.

The men watching are creased up. They cannot quite bear to look at the pathos in front of them. Janusz is on the floor holding his stomach. I love these moments.

We discuss whether what just occurred was genuinely funny. There is always a question around watching people you know making themselves look ridiculous, pushing the envelope of decency, and whether its actually good theatre for a bunch of strangers to engage with.

We agree that on this occasion a lot of what took place was very funny.

It's a good way to end the week.