After tumbling we drive down to Amanda’s at Blackrock in my ute. It takes forever in the Punt Road traffic. When we are almost at the river one of us realises that we forgot all the costumes we’ve been rehearsing with. Damn.
Last night Christy and Luke asked their teenage class what her character should be called and one of them suggested ‘Scout.’ We like it. A lot.
When we get there, Christy and my outfits – in unfinished forms, are hanging from the backs of her dining-room chairs. The peter pan collar uniform and the little shorty overalls. Christy and I make appreciative noises and then try them on, scattering our normal clothes all over the loungeroom and then standing on tip toes in front of the mirror, trying to see our whole selves. We try out cape ideas on Christy and do acrobalance on the shag pile rug to see what happens when the cape is upside-down. Then we all turn to Luke. He’s worried about a football jumper under his suit because its going to be so hot.
Suddenly Christy says, “I wonder…if you’re imaginary then you can be totally superheroed. You can just be what I think a superhero should look like.” We all agree and it shifts a little. Yes. Natalie can wear superhero things but they are things ‘Scout’ has found and dressed her dog in. Scout will be the same. But Terry’s costume will be the full lycra shebang. It makes us all very happy. The only downside of that is that I don’t get to transform into a magic dog with red ears instead of brown ones. But I’m pretty happy being a dog anyway.
We drive back to Pigeon Hole where Christy is going straight into a rehearsal with One Trick Pony. Annie is locking up her bike outside, the One Trick Pony tent is all set up on the grass and Joh is inside chatting to EJ.
Inside, EJ and Flick are putting a show together too. They have an old bubble caravan they have painted mushroom coloured sitting inside the warehouse. EJ is rigging washing-lines up all around it and hanging frilly white washing everywhere. Raku has a projector set up for Piano Boat rehearsals and is doing shadow puppetry. “It feels like the Fringe Festival is at Pigeon Hole,” I say to Luke and we grin at each other. I sit with him for a while and help out with his Ian Potter application. Christy runs in with Kate on her mobile phone, hands it to us and runs back to her rehearsal. Kate likes ‘scout’ and she likes the Terry as full superhero. We text Amanda and give her the go ahead.
I come back later in the evening and we sit under the doona with the butcher’s paper in front of us speaking the script.
After a couple of rounds, Christy suggests that we type it, so as they speak I type like a torpedo. When it’s my go to speak, Luke records me on his i-phone and then plays it back, pausing while I type. The truck is warm and Christy has almonds in a tea-cup which we eat.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
the fence...
Towards the end of tumbling Jess sets up a drill for layouts which I stand looking at. “Can I try this one Jess? Nothing bad will happen will it? I just..just go?” She keeps nodding and grinning at me. After about six goes I do a layout. I am completely surprised. It’s the fastest I have ever done a tumbling move from being shown the drill to doing it.
We spend more time scripting “what’s over the fence?” playing with the things we love from the impro we did at artplay. Once it’s scripted we read it all through and it’s way too long. We cut some and then start to think about how we will move physically into and out of this bit of dialogue.
The fence is feeling like a problem. If we imagine the fence but we have a real toy there is nothing to throw the toy over – and we know our venue doesn’t have wings. If we have a fake toy the throwing really might not work. Christy suggests we build a fence and add it to the set. Kate says, can we disappear the toy? Luke suggests that he runs backstage and we hear him throwing and losing the toy. We revert to the flashback idea of us mining the story of how we lost the toy yesterday. We talk around in circles until Kate stops us. It feels to me like the one thing we don’t have a solution for. I’m home now and cooking risotto while I type. Getting half a sentence in at a time while I stir rice and add stock.
We spend more time scripting “what’s over the fence?” playing with the things we love from the impro we did at artplay. Once it’s scripted we read it all through and it’s way too long. We cut some and then start to think about how we will move physically into and out of this bit of dialogue.
The fence is feeling like a problem. If we imagine the fence but we have a real toy there is nothing to throw the toy over – and we know our venue doesn’t have wings. If we have a fake toy the throwing really might not work. Christy suggests we build a fence and add it to the set. Kate says, can we disappear the toy? Luke suggests that he runs backstage and we hear him throwing and losing the toy. We revert to the flashback idea of us mining the story of how we lost the toy yesterday. We talk around in circles until Kate stops us. It feels to me like the one thing we don’t have a solution for. I’m home now and cooking risotto while I type. Getting half a sentence in at a time while I stir rice and add stock.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
scripting
We come in early in the morning while the Westside staff hip hop dance class is happening. They do hilarious moves to ‘bootylicious’ on the other side of the wall. We have just over an hour until Kate comes so we warm up quickly and do the carrying Christy tricks.
We have to think about moves that travel towards the fence where we are pulling each other forward and then retreating again. It happens quickly. Luke has a thought from something he’s seen me do in the past- melting thighstands. I want to climb up a little stepladder of backs. We’ve been practicing the surfing on bluebird. The tricks are all the ones we were training before we had the bunkbeds so they aren’t hard. Acro choreography is something we all love and by the end of the hour we have the basics of a scene.
We whip the set up quickly and are ready to go just as Kate arrives. She says that today we are going to script the show and pulls out pages of butcher’s paper. We impro the opening and she gives us notes and we impro it again and then we all sit around the butchers paper and write and talk and write. I watch the words go down and think – this is the storybook, these are the words of the storybook that I sell with the show. It feels like we are watching the show forming on the paper. Kate apologises for the torturous nature of the process but I don’t feel tortured. Like choreography, it’s a lot of devising time for two minutes of product but then you have it, the show, created exactly as you want it.
We workshop a dog-focussed monologue, look up prehistoric dogs on Wikipedia, and decide that the paperdance comes earlier than the bunkbed play and how do bring in Terry’s uncle who he thinks is a ninja.
We have to think about moves that travel towards the fence where we are pulling each other forward and then retreating again. It happens quickly. Luke has a thought from something he’s seen me do in the past- melting thighstands. I want to climb up a little stepladder of backs. We’ve been practicing the surfing on bluebird. The tricks are all the ones we were training before we had the bunkbeds so they aren’t hard. Acro choreography is something we all love and by the end of the hour we have the basics of a scene.
We whip the set up quickly and are ready to go just as Kate arrives. She says that today we are going to script the show and pulls out pages of butcher’s paper. We impro the opening and she gives us notes and we impro it again and then we all sit around the butchers paper and write and talk and write. I watch the words go down and think – this is the storybook, these are the words of the storybook that I sell with the show. It feels like we are watching the show forming on the paper. Kate apologises for the torturous nature of the process but I don’t feel tortured. Like choreography, it’s a lot of devising time for two minutes of product but then you have it, the show, created exactly as you want it.
We workshop a dog-focussed monologue, look up prehistoric dogs on Wikipedia, and decide that the paperdance comes earlier than the bunkbed play and how do bring in Terry’s uncle who he thinks is a ninja.
handspring day
This afternoon I do a handspring from a powerstart on the crashmat run. Which must mean I can do it on the floor. I get claps and smiles from the people and when tumbling finishes I just want to do more. But by eight oclock we pack away the tumbling mats and set up for Kapow! While we are warm, we run the bunkbed play over and over. I write down the moves I have to remember. After five runs of the routine Luke calls a halt and we run newspapers and then it’s ten o’clock at night. We talk through what the slapstick might be and then push the set to the side and go home late and physically exhausted. Stay up til midnight looking over Ian Potter grant for Luke.
Monday, September 6, 2010
spring at Artplay
This morning we are at Artplay. It’s a whole set transporting extravaganza. I meet them at Pigeon Hole and we drive to Westside to pack the set and then through the city in rush hour traffic. We find the confusing back entrance to Artplay and have to tell the security dude that we have no hazard lights. Christy and I get out and walk alongside Nona through the playground and past the Yarra. Eelin waves and welcomes us and Kate arrives just as we have finished unloading the set and bumping it in.
Artplay is wide with polished floorboards and big windows that light pours through, even on grey days like today.
Christy says “I think I’d like to try being called ‘Dodge’ today” We all like it. We play a little on the set. We talk about the imaginary friend idea. Kate runs an impro where we are superheros being interviewed about our daily lives one at a time.
We sit for a long time and Christy pulls out snacks. Humous, wraps, nuts. We talk and talk and talk. I go and get a tea tray from upstairs and we all sit on the floor drinking tea and trying to solve the problem of the journey.
We want Dodge to be overcoming something and we write a list of the big things that happen to little children. Moving house, starting school, having a teacher who doesn’t like them, their parents fighting or splitting up, someone dying. Nothing seems quite right. We come back to the controlling idea, ‘we are more powerful than we think we are’ someone says, “Maybe it’s a scary neighbour” “maybe something goes over the fence and we don’t know what is over there” We like it. We like that it is overcoming a fear of the unknown. We like that it means we aren’t dealing with greif which is a whole other show, or bullying which is a whole other show. We run with it.
The sun comes in in bright gold squares on the polished floor and heats the astroturf amazingly. We shuffle into the sunny patches and keep talking. Later it rains buckets and torrents and we sit and look up at it gushing past the windows. Melbourne spring at Artplay.
Kate writes things down in her little book in scrawling biro full of crossings out and arrows and added words on top. There is a sudden sense that we have a narrative. Christy says, “this is like the moment by the Vic Markets for Bubblewrap” and there is definitely a sense of discovery and a sense of realisation. Something has coalesced today.
Then we try an impro of the show from the start. It’s funny because we can’t remember our choreography and it feels pretty loose and messy, but we get to a point where we are imagining the garden fence and the good things that might be on the other side. This is gold. Dodge is totally random like, “maybe its just all sparkly” Terry’s is crazy philosophical “maybe when we get to the other side of the fence we aren’t us anymore, but we’re still there” I am just all on about the dogs which is pretty fun.
At one point Kate says, “In my head, Natalie is a girl, but she just really wants to be a dog.” And later “but if she’s a dog…?” The identity crisis is hilarious and makes me giggle, we keep coming back to “maybe she is a dog?” “maybe she’s an imaginary friend and she’s both?” “Maybe she’s a girl?” “Oh no, I think she has to be a dog.”
We realise Christy’s character can’t be called Dodge because it sounds so much like Dog.
After Kate leaves we run newspapers and the bunkbed play and then race the pack down because I have a meeting to get to. I leave them with the set in pieces on the floor and run for a tram.
Artplay is wide with polished floorboards and big windows that light pours through, even on grey days like today.
Christy says “I think I’d like to try being called ‘Dodge’ today” We all like it. We play a little on the set. We talk about the imaginary friend idea. Kate runs an impro where we are superheros being interviewed about our daily lives one at a time.
We sit for a long time and Christy pulls out snacks. Humous, wraps, nuts. We talk and talk and talk. I go and get a tea tray from upstairs and we all sit on the floor drinking tea and trying to solve the problem of the journey.
We want Dodge to be overcoming something and we write a list of the big things that happen to little children. Moving house, starting school, having a teacher who doesn’t like them, their parents fighting or splitting up, someone dying. Nothing seems quite right. We come back to the controlling idea, ‘we are more powerful than we think we are’ someone says, “Maybe it’s a scary neighbour” “maybe something goes over the fence and we don’t know what is over there” We like it. We like that it is overcoming a fear of the unknown. We like that it means we aren’t dealing with greif which is a whole other show, or bullying which is a whole other show. We run with it.
The sun comes in in bright gold squares on the polished floor and heats the astroturf amazingly. We shuffle into the sunny patches and keep talking. Later it rains buckets and torrents and we sit and look up at it gushing past the windows. Melbourne spring at Artplay.
Kate writes things down in her little book in scrawling biro full of crossings out and arrows and added words on top. There is a sudden sense that we have a narrative. Christy says, “this is like the moment by the Vic Markets for Bubblewrap” and there is definitely a sense of discovery and a sense of realisation. Something has coalesced today.
Then we try an impro of the show from the start. It’s funny because we can’t remember our choreography and it feels pretty loose and messy, but we get to a point where we are imagining the garden fence and the good things that might be on the other side. This is gold. Dodge is totally random like, “maybe its just all sparkly” Terry’s is crazy philosophical “maybe when we get to the other side of the fence we aren’t us anymore, but we’re still there” I am just all on about the dogs which is pretty fun.
At one point Kate says, “In my head, Natalie is a girl, but she just really wants to be a dog.” And later “but if she’s a dog…?” The identity crisis is hilarious and makes me giggle, we keep coming back to “maybe she is a dog?” “maybe she’s an imaginary friend and she’s both?” “Maybe she’s a girl?” “Oh no, I think she has to be a dog.”
We realise Christy’s character can’t be called Dodge because it sounds so much like Dog.
After Kate leaves we run newspapers and the bunkbed play and then race the pack down because I have a meeting to get to. I leave them with the set in pieces on the floor and run for a tram.
Friday, September 3, 2010
"What if Terry is my imaginary friend?''
My plan was that by the end of tumbling this morning I would do a handspring. I did a lot of drills, but no cigar on the actual handspring on the floor. Still, I feel like it’s a doable, close-by goal. Kate came again with more questions for us, what do each of our characters need to overcome? How can we show the journey? She did a fun warm up with charades she’d written on little slips of paper in an envelope. We got silly and competitive and pretended to gloat and sulk and bribe her. I had to do a happy penguin eating a meat pie and watching the football which seriously lowered my score. Otherwise I was the winner for sure. Kate smiled at us while stowing her score pad saying, “now this is so serious that I’m going to take it away and add up the scores and I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
She gave us instructions on slips of paper and asked us to read them as our characters and then follow them. ‘you must save Pink Lightning (todays name for Christy) but be wary of Terry’ Terry of course is saving me and being wary of Pink Lightning and it’s the same game as heros and villains except Terry’s version of saving is to crash-tackle the victim in order to carry them away from danger – so Luke and I have these hilarious running wrestles and meantime Pink Lightning is having a fine old time just toodling around the set and occasionally joining in a game with me.
The next exercise is just ‘the baddies are coming, watch out!’ Christy, with those ridiculous goggles on her face again, is rambling around trying to make booby traps with kitchen implements, while Terry and desperately try to get her up off the floor and onto the bunkbed into relative safety. Christy is still a little injured from the bike accident so we don’t actually lift her – which I think makes the scene more funny, because she just hangs around in danger and we are unable to save her.
After Kate leaves we pack up the set and as we stand there by the bunk bed Christy says, ‘What if Terry is my imaginary friend?’
It sticks straight away. If Terry is her imaginary friend, then he is a part of her. It explains all his absurd qualities. A thirty five year old paper boy who wears a suit and only eats cornflakes. He is often frightened and overwhelmed – maybe he is her fear. Instead of the imaginary friend who is your naughtiness and bravery, the imaginary friend as the fear is kind of nice. But then what about Natalie/Mr Dog? Is she imaginary? Is she a girl who wants to be a dog or is she a dog that Christy’s character pretends is a girl? And if she is a girl, can she see the imaginary friend? What if we went for most of the show with me not seeing Luke?
We stand talking by the half packed up set for about an hour. Excited, exploring ideas, retelling other stories we know that are similar. Christy texts Kate.
She gave us instructions on slips of paper and asked us to read them as our characters and then follow them. ‘you must save Pink Lightning (todays name for Christy) but be wary of Terry’ Terry of course is saving me and being wary of Pink Lightning and it’s the same game as heros and villains except Terry’s version of saving is to crash-tackle the victim in order to carry them away from danger – so Luke and I have these hilarious running wrestles and meantime Pink Lightning is having a fine old time just toodling around the set and occasionally joining in a game with me.
The next exercise is just ‘the baddies are coming, watch out!’ Christy, with those ridiculous goggles on her face again, is rambling around trying to make booby traps with kitchen implements, while Terry and desperately try to get her up off the floor and onto the bunkbed into relative safety. Christy is still a little injured from the bike accident so we don’t actually lift her – which I think makes the scene more funny, because she just hangs around in danger and we are unable to save her.
After Kate leaves we pack up the set and as we stand there by the bunk bed Christy says, ‘What if Terry is my imaginary friend?’
It sticks straight away. If Terry is her imaginary friend, then he is a part of her. It explains all his absurd qualities. A thirty five year old paper boy who wears a suit and only eats cornflakes. He is often frightened and overwhelmed – maybe he is her fear. Instead of the imaginary friend who is your naughtiness and bravery, the imaginary friend as the fear is kind of nice. But then what about Natalie/Mr Dog? Is she imaginary? Is she a girl who wants to be a dog or is she a dog that Christy’s character pretends is a girl? And if she is a girl, can she see the imaginary friend? What if we went for most of the show with me not seeing Luke?
We stand talking by the half packed up set for about an hour. Excited, exploring ideas, retelling other stories we know that are similar. Christy texts Kate.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Yay, Kate is back...
At 5 in the morning I woke up with a headache. Usually if I wake with a headache I don’t tumble but this morning was my handspring week, so I took panadol, slept another hour and a half and then, after breakfast took prophylactic ibuprofen before cycling to tumbling. Today, Kate was back from Switzerland and working with us for the first time since really early on. We set up the set, with her helping, making too many banging noises for the people sharing the space. While we held bunkbed parts and turned allen keys she told us about Switzerland and clowning – inspiring, thinking about our own Europe adventure plans
Then we sat at the messy westside sharehouse table and showed her footage of our work. She’s really great for the encouraging approval: “Beautiful, ohh, great, ohh beautiful” Definitely keeps me feeling like our work is worth doing. She asked and asked and asked. It was at least an hour and a half of catching her up to speed on what we’d been doing, showing all Amanda’s designs, playing her Ania’s music, picking the bits of impro we wanted to show her.
Then she set us some impro tasks. We started out the three of us on the top bunk, playing with being a boat, a spaceship, a tall building and telling superhero stories. Then we did some solo impro around our characters, just sitting with Kate asking our characters questions.
There was a lot of gold. Terry only eats cornflakes, the dog is called Natalie, Christy’s character, with the goggles on her face, just gets more and more hilarious. It felt very useful lots of thoughts came out of it for me. It seems like maybe we don’t slip between modes. Maybe we just are our characters
Then we sat at the messy westside sharehouse table and showed her footage of our work. She’s really great for the encouraging approval: “Beautiful, ohh, great, ohh beautiful” Definitely keeps me feeling like our work is worth doing. She asked and asked and asked. It was at least an hour and a half of catching her up to speed on what we’d been doing, showing all Amanda’s designs, playing her Ania’s music, picking the bits of impro we wanted to show her.
Then she set us some impro tasks. We started out the three of us on the top bunk, playing with being a boat, a spaceship, a tall building and telling superhero stories. Then we did some solo impro around our characters, just sitting with Kate asking our characters questions.
There was a lot of gold. Terry only eats cornflakes, the dog is called Natalie, Christy’s character, with the goggles on her face, just gets more and more hilarious. It felt very useful lots of thoughts came out of it for me. It seems like maybe we don’t slip between modes. Maybe we just are our characters
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