— read write play

Archive
2010 Yearly archive

If you assume that gay theatre is either finally “out of the ghetto” because it’s in mainstream London venues or somehow still closeted because it wants to appeal to a mainstream audience – as in Mark Shenton’s post on the Guardian theatre blog – then you’re setting a very narrow trap for yourself.

It also helps to remember that gay performance and theatre work is being made outside of London: glasgay! and Queer Up North immediately spring to mind as major queer arts festivals held in Glasgow and Manchester respectively. If we have to stay within the M25, there’s GFest, London’s own LGBTQ festival heading into its fourth year of work and currently seeking submissions. What these festivals have in common is the sheer diversity of modes of representation, and the multiplicity of lives, desires and stories within them.

The idea of “niche or not,” or “realistic or not” doesn’t apply, and acts as an unhelpfully reductive way of trying to describe what’s involved in those festivals. And that’s before we even consider the professional work being made all year round outside of mainstream venues and mainstream practice – such as the numerous and growing applied and theatre in education projects tackling homophobia and gender identity.

In other words, recourse to the limited dynamic of in/out to describe gay theatre is to confine it to a particular historical moment does not exist any more – or is, at the very least, being speedily re-written. Does the closet still exist? Yes. Does it fully describe what contemporary queer performance involves? Certainly not.

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Nick Keenan asked – a week ago – how we (that’s you) teach synthesis. I think I teach it, obliquely, like this.

I teach the value of reflexivity and awareness: what am I doing? What choices am I making? What am I taking for granted? Part of that process is the belief that sometimes you can only discover what you are doing when in the midst of doing it – the pattern, the rhythm, the game reveals itself only in the act of play.

I teach an awareness of impulse – that risk-taking, improvisation and play are key to creative problem-solving; I encourage students to be boring and obvious in the hope of giving even small ideas the chance to breathe and develop; I tell them that waiting for the Big Idea to appear, fully-formed, is nearly always disastrous. (I also tell them to stop acting, and not to entertain me.)

I preach that the creative process involves trial and error, and try to show that I mean it in my own process. And that sometimes your errors will end up as the best parts of your work.

I teach that analytical, theoretical or critical approaches can also be used as creative strategies – for example, that Elinor Fuch’s Visit to a Small Planet is an exercise for describing the world of a play and a model for creating the world of a play.

Part of the value of this process is watching and waiting for the moment when a particular system falls down: what isn’t being accounted for? What does this practice do that the theory doesn’t anticipate or can’t describe? Where does the promise of theory overshoot the restraints of politics, economics, the body? What can we invent in its place?

I teach through studying example: we watch other people’s work and try to discover why those decisions were made then, and how that relationship between form and content came into being. I tell students to watch professional practice and think about what they’d do differently, and what they’ll steal and re-format for use in their own work.

I teach – deliberately – through exercises and games which parallel that work, but don’t try to replicate it in the classroom or workshop. I’ll revisit other people’s choices and solutions but I won’t attempt to mimic them. I assume that there’s always something else to learn, another set of tricks to borrow, unearth, translate.

I ask myself, continually, how can I use this? Where might it fit?

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Ed Vaizey’s recent speech on “cultural education” seems to suggest a near-future of cuts and centralization in arts funding.

First, there’s the repeated suggestion of “confusion and duplication,” a “blizzard of initiatives” that represent wasteful effort. Vaizey doesn’t actually provide any real support for that claim, but it’s the rhetorical basis for the call to spend arts funding more “efficiently and effectively.”

The big challenge I am putting to the whole cultural education world here – all of you in this room, and many more who are not, is this: I am asking you to have honest discussions about what in each of your areas really works and is worth enhancing, prioritising or replicating; and what could either done more effectively or efficiently by another organisation… or even not at all.

Perhaps reasonable enough, but it’s hard to work out what role “honest discussions” between independent practitioners and groups might take when Vaizey is clearly advocating a policy of heavy centralisation:

There is a clear role for central government here to act as a co-ordinator, resource, and funding organisation for these plans and strategies.

and

I am open to the idea of, at a national level, merging some of the plethora of cultural education initiatives and quangos into one coherent, national, agenda-setting funding body.

There’s no suggestion why a single, centralised national body should (miraculously) be less subject to bloat and over-administration, or what particular insight it might offer at a local level. More worryingly, there’s no recognition of existing national initiatives and frameworks: it’s also a speech given by a man who doesn’t actually seem to understand the reasons why – over a number of years – determined attempts have been made to decentralise control of cultural initiatives.

All of which leads to this confusing moment:

The cultural education sector is increasingly diverse and at grass roots level consists of thousands of statutory and non-statutory organisations offering all kinds of engagement with all kinds of culture. The key challenge for central government is to balance the enthusiasm and local nature of this bottom up activity with an overarching national strategy to ensure a much more coherent local offer.

There’s a genuine contradiction here – the praise of local diversity, followed by the declaration that we’re going to somehow improve that diversity by subsuming it to a national strategy. How are we to understand the relationship between diversity and “coherence”?

If the cultural life of this country is at the grass roots level, why is there a need for an overarching national agenda beyond those already in place? Is this about anything other than rationalising cuts to funding? If so, what might be on that agenda? Vaizey doesn’t seem to be able or willing to say.

As such, it’s hard not to read Vaizey’s stated support for “art for art’s sake” through the lens of this line:

We’re going to have to increasingly put a financial price on things in the year ahead.

Those working in the culture industries are already excruciatingly aware of the price of things: a call for any greater focus can only mean one thing. Prepare for cuts.

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I’m introducing students to different models of devised performance – and, in passing, described Clay Shirky’s hierarchy of participation: starting with sharing, and moving in increasing complexity through co-operation and collaboration to collective action.

Since that lecture, I’ve been thinking about the value of recognising the link beween these different kinds of participation – that co-operation, for example, is often dependent on sharing, or that collective action may demand very specific modes of co-operation. Consequently, it may be productive to think of interactive and improvisational performance as creating opportunities (or demands) for participants to shift between overlapping, complimentary registers of action that aren’t bound to a simple hierarchy of sophistication. Accordingly, we might think about the terms for participation as being highly contextual.1

Part of the value of that kind thinking is the way in which it allows us to recognise that – for example – sharing might not be simple or straightforward; that disclosure of even seemingly mundane ideas, thoughts and gestures are shaped by cultural norms and relationships of power. Similarly, particular contexts might make co-operation easier (or, at least, more desirable) than independent action – all of which has consequences for performance which engages with ideas of designed experience.

  1. In fairness, I’d note that much of Shirky’s discussion in Here Comes Everybody recognises the specific conditions in which different projects have found success. []
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