Our rehearsal time at Warwick University is almost done. And we almost have a show; but for the myriad technical complexities which must be layered into next week’s production week transfer to The Courtyard Theatre, Hereford. (amplification, radio mics, lighting, projections, wind machines, ladies’ clothings, etc.)
We ran the show properly for the first time yesterday and surprised ourselves with how moving and funny the show could be. Perhaps it was a collective excitement – knowing that David Dimbleby, George Galloway, Lord Faulkner, Clare Short et al were behind the wall preparing for a showdown on Question Time? Or perhaps it was too much sugar in our tea?
Today was different. A gaggle of great and good from our tech teams (and from commissioning partners Warwick Arts Centre) came to view the progress. The long hours rehearsal seemed to have taken their toll: Within the first few minutes of the run I – not once but twice – fell on my arse (the consequence of over-zealous talcuum-powdering of the set in an attempt to make set shuffling easier) and poor Allie near-concussed herself by attempting a pile-drive through 3/4 inch ply. Me in a fury, Emilia & Jill in stitches, Allie in tears. It wasn’t a bright start. We abandoned ship, took 10 minutes to recuperate, then relaunched.
It’s been a hard-working week but light has appeared at the end of the tunnel. It’s very palpable when you suddenly turn that corner and realise the show is within your grasp. Meanwhile, in the parallel universe outside, our friendly builders seem to have dismantled the dirt mountain, tidied away the generators and knocked off early for the weekend. Good for them; we”ll be back in tomorrow for more of the same. And by monday we’ll have arrived in Hereford for the next gripping installment.
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Tags: forever in your debt, warwick arts centre
mountain to climb
week 3 was a tough haul, and we emerged from it with the bare bones of a show, a draft 8 script and a hefty pile of sheet music – also to learn. As if to heap up reminders of the focus now required of us, our friendly builders start to construct a dirt barrage around the outside of our rehearsal space, slowly entombing us in a wall of shit. From now on we’ll be fed with gruel through one of the cleverly designed hatches in the set.
The cruel sun lifts briefly above the horizon, if only to say goodbye. I feel myself going pale at the very prospect.
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Tags: forever in your debt
We’re into week 3 of rehearsals for the forthcoming Foursight / Talking Birds collaboration Forever In Your Debt.
Week 1 started with a read through of writer Nick Walker’s draft no. 5. It ended with the jaunty singing of composer Derek Nisbet’s tunes. In between was oodles of character exploration with impressive vocal gymnastics from my co-performers and the search for a physical vocabulary for the show. The piece is commissioned by The Courtyard (Hereford) and Warwick Arts Centre and we’ve been granted access to the hallowed luxury of the new WAC Creative Space for our rehearsal period; warm and light-filled (freakily unfamiliar conditions for this kind of work). The only downside being the vast glass panes on the north side of the rehearsal room which ensure everyone outside gets to see the degradation we put ourselves through in the name of art. Consequently, the level of productivity on the University’s re-landscaping project reaches a new low. Small groups of labourers, gaping slack-jawed at us, in their luminous vests ‘midst the snow. Later, a class-load of visiting school-kids seen pointing and laughing as they wait for their bus home. It’s great to be working though. I’ve raided the last of my savings to pay for the day ticket that’ll get me in to work, but pay-day is nigh! By the skin of my teeth, once more. Ha!
Week 2 and a slight thawing. The set has arrived, and all our imagined physical work has to be reconsidered. Then we get our instruments out and reconsider again some of the urgent practicalities. For example, the dance routine I was working on – I’ll now have to do it with a socking great bass guitar strapped on, and a lead trailing behind me ….across a raked stage. Co-performers Emilia and Allie are looking at their expensive instruments in a scared kind of way. For me the enormous task of not only learning the musical parts but … firstly learning how to read music… secondly learning how to sing …starts to hit home. I’m playing the part of Pippa (the sex-change father) and to compensate for any self-consciousness in my lack of musical ability I decide to flit freely between the bass, the baritone, the tenor and the counter-tenor ranges. It’s part of my broader life strategy – to keep constantly on the move so I can never truly be found out. Curiously, I find the counter-tenor the easiest of all. This becoming a lady business seems to be-coming to me quite naturally. By thursday I’m on fire, energy-wise, but then have a funny turn at lunchtime. Is it aged-ness agitating my invincible performance-self? A phone-call to my boys’ mum later confirms a different story: “Oh yes. I had the same symptoms this morning”, she says. “Our cycles are in sympathy. You’re pre-menstrual”.
I survey the scene out of the enormous window, but there’s no gawping attention from the builders anymore. They’ve got bored and returned to work.
Week 3 started this morning. Up ’til now I’ve been playing my bass without amplification. As a result, I was bloody magnificent, (if only you could’ve heard). Today, however, a mini-practice amp arrived – courtesy of Jill. So I got rumbled. Anxiety levels started rising, in the realisation of how much work there is to do. Designer Janet gave me Pippa’s bra that she’s been padding up, so I wore it for the afternoon, under my top. This most definitely cheered me up. I can’t tell you what the builders made of it, but the sight of my seven female colleagues staring, open-mouthed, at my chest gave me an extraordinary insight into a world of womanliness. The power of a woman … and yet also the peril, perhaps.
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Tags: foursight, talking birds, theatre
Arts & Kraft’s
I’m born, raised and currently resident in a part of SW Birmingham that has been dominated by two huge manufactories – Rover and Cadbury’s. In fact my dad worked at both Longbridge and Bournville factories. Three years ago, while I was delivering a Creative Partnerships programme (‘creativity in teaching & learning’ – schools projects in Frankley, a ’70’s estate, built in the shadow of the Longbridge plant) the then Chancellor, Gordon Brown, admitted that traditional manufacturing industry was no longer an economic priority for the Govt.; that Britain’s future was all about Technology and… wait for it…. the Creative Industries.
MG Rover (the company formerly known as Austin Rover and before that ‘the Leyland’ and before that ‘the BMC’ and before that simply ‘the Austin’) finally bit the dust in the summer of 2006 and the remaining, beleaguered 6000 or so staff lost their jobs, to be followed by countless associate components manufacturers across the region. Huge swaythes of the Longbridge site were hastily bulldozed and glossy boards put up, promoting the promise of a Technology Park. Woopy doop! (It’s still an empty wasteland).
Today Cadbury’s plc was finally sold off to the US company Kraft. I’m led to believe that Confectionary is good business in times of recession: People will temporarily cheer themselves out of financial woes with a flake or a starbar.
But no-one round these parts is under any long-term illusions. Kraft will have no emotional interests in the glorious philanthropy of the Cadbury Quakers. There will be no sentimentality for the Bournville neighbourhood and workforce which has grown around the factory. It’ll be just a matter of time before jobs start to go. And it is a bizarre irony that much of the huge loan that was necessary to finance Kraft’s £11.9 billion bid was provided by RBS, bailed out last year by the British taxpayer.
Meanwhile, funding for the Arts promises to be just as bleak. What happened to Gordon’s prediction? Americanisation continues as a theme with the Tories looking to encourage an American-style system of private patronage if and when they assume Governance.
See James Yarker’s Stan take on this, in response to Lyn Gardner’s article.
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Tags: Arts, Birmingham, cadburys, Frankley, MG Rover
Ringing the Changes
The new year brings a fresh impetus to investigate and savour the latest cultural delights of my City. In-between more present shopping for BoyWonderNo.1 (*9 today*) I reached out for nourishments freely available in galleries. The latest IKON exhibition Shocked Into Abstraction by Matias Faldbakken left me non-plussed, however. I resisted the need to read up artist notes before-hand and in general felt there was a dearth of ideas. There are glimmers of wit (eg. in a video juxtaposition of You’ve Been Framed style-personal disasters with the long-winded documentation of a airliner coming in to land) but much including the packing tape graffiti I found a bit lazy. Nonetheless, I’ll still musing the show so a job done, I suppose.
For a safer ride I headed to The Gas Hall for one of those recurrent ‘Ring the changes: Birmingham Then & Now’ exhibitions which tap into the seemingly insatiable appetite for a local nostalgia-rama. There are some extraordinary scenes in pencil, paint and photographic print which document the changing landscape of this place; and also an architect’s model: the few times I’ve seen this 1941 scale model of Birmingham’s proposed Civic Centre (Manzoni and team) I’ve been left reeling. It’s a huge vision that proposes Admin blocks, Civic Halls, galleries, neo-Classical squares and even a new Cathedral with no reference to shopping mall or retail park. This is post-war Civic pride on a monumental scale and the plans make it look like it would all be constructed out of the finest Portland stone (think Civic Centres of Cardiff or Southampton to the power of 10). In the event a tiny proportion of the proposed buildings was actually realised; including the Hall of Memory and most of what is now Baskerville House. Astonishingly, though, the grand Masonic Lodge building fronting Broad Street (a precedent part of the project) has only just been demolished, to make way for a skyscraper … perhaps. There is no sacred vernacular. Bulldozer wins once more.
For a great read on changing Birmingham here’s Catherine O’Flynn’s commissioned piece for Made in England which I’ve only just discovered. Cath’s second novel will be published later in the year. blog
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Tags: Birmingham, bmag, catherine o'flynn, civic centre
02.01.2010 As the bliss-bubbles of the Christmastide ebb away, I face up to the prospect of a new year that has been trumpeted in by Captain Skint on his Frugal-horn. At the chime of midnight I was too busy having fun to hear his clarion call beneath a cacophony of TV fireworks: anticipating a reprisal of the gloomy pall of my last xmas, I hunkered down into the bosom of my lovely family and friends and have been smiling throughout. Yes, thanks to their generosity, I’ve even put on weight! A sure sign of contentment given the usual metabolic levels which render my ribs visible and my frown in dire need of an iron.
In the good old bad days of last year it was lost love that interrupted my sleep. Now I wake up in a cold flat, my breathe visible, fretting about whether I can afford to switch on the donated heating apparatus. Laughable – and how we laughed knowingly a fortnight ago watching the scene where Withnail smothers himself in Deep Heat to shield him from the cold. It was my birthday and I started to get suspicions as others’ concerns started to manifest themselves in gift form – a woolly hat, gloves, house slippers, jumper, etc. Hmmmm ….It’s like I’ve been transported back to the ragged, romantic existence I was living in the seven streets of Balsall Heath back in the early ’90s. At some point, in the interim period, I was deemed credit-worthy; and now (in these tricksy times) le Crunch is exposing my vulnerabilities. In little over a week I’ll start work on the new Talking Birds/Foursight Theatre show Forever In Your Debt and, as I find increasingly in this life of artistry, the mirror will be held up to nature.
Until then, one must be forced to tackle the daunting and humbling creative pursuit known as Tax Return.
Happy New Year, reader.
Here’s a final un-Wrap to Christmas
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Come on Barbie, let’s go Party!
ModifiedToyOrchestra_Vivid_Birmingham_Dec09-11, originally uploaded by Birmingham Live!.
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longest night
Band stalwarts Dazz and Loz had warned me that there’s no such thing as a trouble-free mto gig and true to form the Toy Orchestra’s first proper Brum show in 2 years was not without its drama. At the sound check there was no whiff of Brian; his back had gone into spasm the previous day (the result of picking up a plastic shopping bag) and he’d retired to bed in the hope of sleeping off the pain and lumbago. Unfortunately, with the show barely a couple of hours away, there was no response from his phone… Man Duffy had gone missing.
Courtesy of the Band’s own crowbar-on-a-fob (this has obviously happened before, I’m thinking…) I buzz and enter Brian’s flat, startling the trouserless occupant out of his painkiller trance.
Anyone who witnessed his remarkable Optophonic Lunaphone, (an IKON/Vivid/mac co-commission, summer 2004) will remember the dignified look that Brian sported by entering the Arena with a walking stick. The struggle of his realising that particular event has somehow become part of it’s legend. Unfortunately the ‘look’ belies extraordinary pain. This evening, adrenaline, our oft-times friend, cuts through this pain to make the show happen. We chaperone Brian’s fragile frame through the expectant crowd – (in a mixture of Moses meets James Brown) and, although there’s been no sound check – resulting in weird audio effects, compressions, crashed toys, etc.) the show seems to go down well. Somehow Brian’s difficulties took the edge off my own anxieties – like having to reset my toys mid-song when a keyboard failed, dealing with the fact that there were 2 esteemed ex-band members in the audience scrutinising me.
Through it all, Barbie beamed out to the crowd – wearing a brand new outfit fashioned especially for the occasion by Lisa Temple Cox.
For some images of Capsule’s 10th Birthday Closing Party see Katja Ogrin’s excellent Flickr pics
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Tags: capsule, modified toy orchestra
for those about to rock
A pre-Christmas double whammy from der Rose and friends: This coming weekend sees The Modified Toy Orchestra line up for Capsule’s 10th Birthday Closing Party. It promises to be a special night. Further UK gigs for the mto are planned for the spring, starting with Newcastle Life Science Centre in March. Following saturday’s shenanigans, the following night sees Craig and me compereing the Christmas Retort at King’s Heath’s Kitchen Garden Café. Ours is hardly a honed act. There’s talk of a Festive rewrite of our moody Perseverers epic ‘Extension 526′, a scratch ‘n sniff version of the Nativity, a celebrity phone-in… Whatever… if true to form it’ll be delivered on the hoof – much like Santa’s prezzies, I guess.
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Tags: capsule, modified toy orchestra
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