Morning.
Its been raining all night and the plants on my patio are looking suitably refreshed!
Yesterday our studios at the Malthouse were eerily empty, everyone was out. This is the last week of the long tour of Mullered and the team are feeling sad that this leg is almost over. Its been good and the schools' reactions some of the best ever. One of the things I most love about making theatre and taking it into schools is the sheer vigilante nature of it. We arrive at their kind invitation, insinuate ourselves intimately into their school community and space, transform classrooms and school halls for the time we are there, with an audacity and confidence that invites a change in perspective. The room used for all the daily rituals of a school becomes momentarily a theatre. By definition it is a powerful metaphor for change and possibility. Those things we take to be concrete and literal in our environment are indeed mecurial also. Its a bit like moving house, the physical space is a blank canvas on which we paint our own identities, preoccupations and passions. Where we create 'home'.
I remember from her earliest years my eldest daughter often talking about wanting to go 'home'. It took a long time for me to understand that this was not a literal sentiment, indeed she often said it when we were in our physical home. No, what she meant was a space in which she felt fully connected to love, order and safety. If something had gone wrong at school or with a friend, she was ill at ease in herself and longed for the feelings of security and unconditional love that her concept of home meant for her.
So our actors on the road in different schools and theatres every day transform spaces into a kind of imagination 'home' for the duration of their time there. I learned from my daughter early on that 'home' is a soulful and emotional place. Its possible to carry it with us wherever we go. When I was a young touring actor I made my home wherever I laid my head - in digs, or cheap hotel rooms. Four years of living with no permanent base as I travelled the world, led me to find my own way of recreating home wherever I was. This was achieved by taking with me five or six small objects/talismen which I could place around me in any room anywhere, and for the time I was there they served as my own symbols of home.
And so to the power of theatre as a home for community. What I mean by this is that its a space for the instinctual ritual of participation that is at the human heart of coming together in performance. People with faith find soulful solace and connection through shared rituals in places of worship. Most of these are consecrated, and this is itself an interesting concept. Its perhaps a bigger version of dedicating a space to home, this is a dedicated space that honours community.
In this secular and material age, many of us find ourselves cut adrift from a belief or faith in something invisible and unknown. The human restrictions of religion turn a great deal of people off. And yet we throw out the baby with the bathwater at our peril. The benefits of community are obvious. We need them as much as we need food and shelter. Sadly some people live lonely lives outside of community and we worry about them and their mental and physical health. We instinctively understand that to be human is to live in deep communion with others. Engagement with performance offers one such space and place, vessels for community.
As I sat down with a colleague for a meeting in the green room (the gap) at the Malthouse yesterday I was struck by the silence in the rest of the building. In its absence the experience and power of shared experienced was ever more present. In this space people find a kind of 'home'. We come together in community, professional theatre makers, amateur actors, students and children, people of all ages. We have a space dedicated to love and
imagination. Its tough in there sometimes as ideas are forged, discarded and realised. But its never dull or lifeless. Each person brings their own uniqueness to the space and thereby transforms it. In creative endeavour with a shared purpose difference is both honoured and melts away. People who may not give each other the time of day in another context, find themselves invited into the rich imaginative and emotional life of each other. Its the secret ingredient, and it raises us all up.
Its pretty much the same thing as the experience of different places and spaces we might visit. We instinctively pick up the 'vibe' of a theatre, art gallery, church. We know if we are drawn to its invisible energy, and if its somewhere we want to spend time. Those theatres that really work have that abundantly and as if by magic people are drawn to them. But a beautiful building with all the state of the art technical gizmos is nothing but an empty vessel if it has no heart and soul. And at the end of the day its simply us, human beings that bring that to a home or community space.
If you live or work in North East London, or anywhere else for that matter please feel free to pop into Arc at the Malthouse for a cuppa! If we are there we will certainly make one for you! ( I do appreciate I have lots of readers in the US and other countries - you are of course welcome to drop by!)
Have a good one.
Its been raining all night and the plants on my patio are looking suitably refreshed!
Yesterday our studios at the Malthouse were eerily empty, everyone was out. This is the last week of the long tour of Mullered and the team are feeling sad that this leg is almost over. Its been good and the schools' reactions some of the best ever. One of the things I most love about making theatre and taking it into schools is the sheer vigilante nature of it. We arrive at their kind invitation, insinuate ourselves intimately into their school community and space, transform classrooms and school halls for the time we are there, with an audacity and confidence that invites a change in perspective. The room used for all the daily rituals of a school becomes momentarily a theatre. By definition it is a powerful metaphor for change and possibility. Those things we take to be concrete and literal in our environment are indeed mecurial also. Its a bit like moving house, the physical space is a blank canvas on which we paint our own identities, preoccupations and passions. Where we create 'home'.I remember from her earliest years my eldest daughter often talking about wanting to go 'home'. It took a long time for me to understand that this was not a literal sentiment, indeed she often said it when we were in our physical home. No, what she meant was a space in which she felt fully connected to love, order and safety. If something had gone wrong at school or with a friend, she was ill at ease in herself and longed for the feelings of security and unconditional love that her concept of home meant for her.
So our actors on the road in different schools and theatres every day transform spaces into a kind of imagination 'home' for the duration of their time there. I learned from my daughter early on that 'home' is a soulful and emotional place. Its possible to carry it with us wherever we go. When I was a young touring actor I made my home wherever I laid my head - in digs, or cheap hotel rooms. Four years of living with no permanent base as I travelled the world, led me to find my own way of recreating home wherever I was. This was achieved by taking with me five or six small objects/talismen which I could place around me in any room anywhere, and for the time I was there they served as my own symbols of home. And so to the power of theatre as a home for community. What I mean by this is that its a space for the instinctual ritual of participation that is at the human heart of coming together in performance. People with faith find soulful solace and connection through shared rituals in places of worship. Most of these are consecrated, and this is itself an interesting concept. Its perhaps a bigger version of dedicating a space to home, this is a dedicated space that honours community.
As I sat down with a colleague for a meeting in the green room (the gap) at the Malthouse yesterday I was struck by the silence in the rest of the building. In its absence the experience and power of shared experienced was ever more present. In this space people find a kind of 'home'. We come together in community, professional theatre makers, amateur actors, students and children, people of all ages. We have a space dedicated to love and
imagination. Its tough in there sometimes as ideas are forged, discarded and realised. But its never dull or lifeless. Each person brings their own uniqueness to the space and thereby transforms it. In creative endeavour with a shared purpose difference is both honoured and melts away. People who may not give each other the time of day in another context, find themselves invited into the rich imaginative and emotional life of each other. Its the secret ingredient, and it raises us all up.
Its pretty much the same thing as the experience of different places and spaces we might visit. We instinctively pick up the 'vibe' of a theatre, art gallery, church. We know if we are drawn to its invisible energy, and if its somewhere we want to spend time. Those theatres that really work have that abundantly and as if by magic people are drawn to them. But a beautiful building with all the state of the art technical gizmos is nothing but an empty vessel if it has no heart and soul. And at the end of the day its simply us, human beings that bring that to a home or community space.
If you live or work in North East London, or anywhere else for that matter please feel free to pop into Arc at the Malthouse for a cuppa! If we are there we will certainly make one for you! ( I do appreciate I have lots of readers in the US and other countries - you are of course welcome to drop by!)
Have a good one.
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