Miss West can't help but giggle

It is fair to say that I have really been enjoying my movement classes, although it’s taken me a while to fully immerse myself into them. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to movement studies, in fact I consider it to be one of my skills. It’s just that your body has a habit of forgetting… When you haven't done a class for a while… Basically... Movement classes can make you look like a bit of a twat. You have this strange out of body experience where you almost float above yourself and see what you look like: A bit of a twat.

Last week when prancing around in my leggings, embodying the Earth and the sky, smelling an imaginary desert flower and painting a rainbow none less, my thoughts were drawn to the Geordie chefs who I used to work with, before moving to London.

"You do theatre?" They would say. "Do you dance arooond like a tree an that?" They would tease.

So when doing just that, (being a tree) in week two of term, Miss West couldn't help but giggle. During every movement exercise I'd imagine the Geordie chefs of Cafe 21 in Newcastle standing at the back of the class. I couldn't stop giggling.

When on all fours pretending I had a pencil stuck up my bum, and drawing my favourite picture (to loosen up my vertebral column) I literally almost had a wee. How could I take this seriously anymore? How could I make the most out of these exciting classes? I was doomed to look like an immature Geordie out of control. Something I have come to get used to.

BUT- During a lesson in which we applied Sarah Kane's Crave to a developed movement sequence (that we created through exercises) we created something so real and powerful that it stuck in my head for weeks after. Sarah Kane’s brutal and hard hitting words of loss, love and desire… un-questionably a strong piece, had never been something I personally liked or connected to. Yet with eight people in one tiny movement space, experimenting with movement almost entirely instead of words, I was actually moved. Not even a hint of a giggle.

Actions speak louder than words.
Actions speak louder than words.

I am not going to stage a version of Crave, nor would I want to but when you experience a real moment of, dare I say it? Beauty… In a workshop- It just reinforces the importance of drama games, exercises and play. Without them performance can be shallow.

Movement games can make you feel like a twat as can drama games. Yet, embracing the twat within you (In my opinion) is a huge part of being a performer.

It’s what I like about being a performer.

So just like finding your 'inner child' as being an important part of play,
I think finding your 'inner twat' is important too… I think?!

BUMP

After a night on the beers,
With my Central peers,
I fell asleep on the night bus (again).

When the bus screeched to a halt,
I shot forward with a bolt,
And smacked my head off the pole.

Drunk and alone,
I started the walk home,
With a big fat bump on my head.

Now I have no idea why,
But I started to cry,
And sing a Bob Dylan tune.

“One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below.”


I created a scene quite dramatic,
Not only as a Bob Dylan fanatic,
But as a piece of street theatre right there on the road.

So maybe it’s only in pain,
That your insanity becomes sane,
When the bump caused the drama to spill right out.

Hello November 2009, this is me.

Listen cockheads,
It's taken me a while to get here. Its taken me sometime to get here.

Said Erica, my therapist.