tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117816562024-03-06T01:22:30.910+00:00Peter John CooperPlaywright Poet PerformerPeter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.comBlogger187125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-20583730948202325522022-07-19T16:38:00.001+01:002022-07-19T16:38:23.572+01:0019th July - West Cliff GreenThe heat has continued all night and the morning has brought the same, dead blue sky and intense sun. There is enough breeze on the clifftop to make the temperature just about bearable. The birds are strangely quiet apart from the gulls which squabble over last night's take-away boxes. Every patch of shade is taken up by the coffee drinkers and early picnic lunchers. But during the afternoon a grey film of cloud slides across the sky, temperatures drop and the little breeze fills chilly. The cloud thickens and takes on that yellow colour that presages a storm. But it does not manifest apart from a few distant rumbles of thunder and ten minutes of large thundery drops of rain. People on the beach are undeterred and by late afternoon the cloud is thinning, the sun reappears and heat is building again. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #July #summer<h2 style="text-align: left;"> </h2>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-7328505284419207892017-09-09T15:30:00.000+01:002017-09-09T15:33:45.294+01:00La Boheme at the Royal Opera House, London<b></b><br />
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<b>
One of the perks of knowing the right people is getting to
see things that we couldn’t otherwise afford.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Yesterday we were privileged to see the open dress rehearsal of La
Boheme at the Royal Opera House.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>An Open
DR is the last one before opening night and apart from some of the singers
trying to conserve their voices and not singing out this was the production as
you will see it from Monday.</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">La Boheme is the one art event where boxes of tissues are
more in evidence than ice creams in the foyer.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>It is a pretty simple love story.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Consumptive Girl meets boy who falls in love. Boy, afraid he is too poor
to help pretends to be jealous and they part. Girl, <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>has a fling with rich viscount to pay the
bills.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But dying, returns to boy and coughs
her last in his arms.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>On the way, we
meet tarty girl who laughs at life and death.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>And a bunch of arty youths trying to fend off starvation with a lot of
banter. You probably know some of the tunes and the bit about “Your tiny hand
is frozen.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>See, a surefire weepy.</span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The previous production had become a bit of a warhorse and
had rumbled on for something like fifty years at the ROH so the time had come
for something fresh and it’s this season’s hot ticket.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Except….<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>This
production has gone out its way to disengage the audience.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The settings are bare and stark and rely on in
vision scene shifting on the open stage that was popular in the 1980s.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I
think that sensation of disengagement was most in evident with the harsh, flat
lighting which made the first scene where the candle blows out and Mimi and
Rudolfo are hunting for Mimi’s key in blank studio lighting, seemed perverse.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I even asked whether this was merely there
for the cameras at this rehearsal but apparently not.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Allied to this there was some odd staging
moments where the fourth wall seemed to appear and disappear at random moments
and where, having established it at one point, the singers lined up and sang at
it.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>There was also an amount of cold-acting
from all and sundry the like of which I haven’t seen since the last local
production of “A Christmas Carol.”<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Please movement directors have a look at how people actually move when
they are cold and hungry.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I’m happy to say that there were one or two beautifully
orchestrated stage pictures.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Particularly the street scenes with the chorus and youngsters and, most
touching and perfect of Mimi and Rudolfo exiting through the snow storm at the
end of Act 3.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But the end, sadly, not a moist eye in the house.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>This was Boheme lite. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Boheme with nought percent emotional
engagement.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Perhaps we were being shown
some other aspect of La Boheme that has never been explored before.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But I fear I missed it.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Oh, the singing was nice. And Antonio Pappano and the pit band
were working hard to give us a good show.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Definitely one to shut your eyes
and hum along to.</span></div>
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Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-24242873335928824342017-03-03T14:35:00.000+00:002017-03-03T15:05:54.179+00:00Blood and Bones. Play writng in the 21st Century.<br />
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Blood and Bones Theatre</h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWc1e13YDeHUPab8vJoHYrkOfU61CIUZpDy0FsGyEYNblRRoPrCqSCS7fAOzotwnutD9_NjI-K-qWOtX0CeiEEMldhssKg9LJF-Mn7H_FzO3Ez2K7wleedQSGTpIOqWuDv0xa/s1600/f0025551_HD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWc1e13YDeHUPab8vJoHYrkOfU61CIUZpDy0FsGyEYNblRRoPrCqSCS7fAOzotwnutD9_NjI-K-qWOtX0CeiEEMldhssKg9LJF-Mn7H_FzO3Ez2K7wleedQSGTpIOqWuDv0xa/s320/f0025551_HD.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Theatre is the oldest
expression of some of the deepest human instincts.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The playwright’s job is to establish the
complex process of thought that leads to that expression.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Yet in the post-rational twenty-first century
just when they’re needed, many of the enormous possibilities of drama have been
lost to a welter of superficial acrobatics, music and visual effect while the actual
skills of playwriting - character construction and dialogue and as a vehicle
for understanding the fundamentals of human nature - have been downgraded such
that the playwright him or herself is thought of as mere pen holder for other
theatre makers. Playwrights are kept at arm’s length from the creative process
by the dread shadow of The Dramaturg and the play reading committee. </span></b></div>
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">This series is not a handy
how-to-do-it guide but rather a personal meditation on the place of the
playwright in contemporary theatre.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It suggests that if theatre is to survive it needs
to re-engage with its audiences by offering something to challenge the
immediate attraction of film, television and other narratives. It needs to find
its soul again and offer what is its unique properties.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>To do this it needs a powerful cohort of
playwrights and it needs them once again at the heart of the playmaking
process.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Playwrights like me need to
stop titting around with ten minute sketches and applying cap in hand to futile
competitions.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We need to be bolder,
braver and prouder of what we do because I firmly believe we can contribute in
some way to getting the world back to a more humane, rational way of
progressing.</span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">I am particularly fortunate
in that I was able to learn my craft in what, with hindsight, appears to be a
golden age of theatre.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I have had
opportunities to work alongside great actors and within companies who believed
in the essential power of drama. I have been able to learn from people who knew
their craft and I hope I have been able to pass that on in writing workshops
and as a director working with young and established actors to this day.</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">So, if you are a playwright,
actor, director. Audience member or all round lover of theatre come with me on
my ramble through my own head as I try to understand what it is I’ve been
playing with for the last forty years</span></b></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-85096549458588117692017-02-18T13:58:00.001+00:002017-02-28T14:56:20.659+00:00Blood and Bones Theatre. Fairy Tales<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOqqE6c5IqE6lUkLPawFPKFqfdGLaykIlTTJsf2UOOannGoOh9xE3iageBG-2cswT5FAfDasAlk4ulYKdFLzaGe9kfMP_TGRhg4EIwPMpou2toYJrbSd2lzh7K6LQvKh69zIC-/s1600/Blue-Fairies-fairies-19086574-1024-768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOqqE6c5IqE6lUkLPawFPKFqfdGLaykIlTTJsf2UOOannGoOh9xE3iageBG-2cswT5FAfDasAlk4ulYKdFLzaGe9kfMP_TGRhg4EIwPMpou2toYJrbSd2lzh7K6LQvKh69zIC-/s640/Blue-Fairies-fairies-19086574-1024-768.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please let me know if you own this</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Let’s
talk about fairy stories. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Let me think
about some of the narratives that others have created and which, I think need
challenging. Later I’ll talk about how theatre should be involved in the
process. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>First, Let me map out some of
the ways I think we are being diverted from the authentic, the plausible and
the genuine and led into a sham world where issues are beyond our grasp. Let
me, for an example, consider the plethora of conspiracy theories and hoaxes I see
promoted on the Internet.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Why do we get
so worked up about them?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>These are flung
about and consumed with the same zeal as Coca Cola and Macdonalds or Dom
Perignon and Heston Blumental’s snail porage and with the same disregard to
nutrition.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And despite any evidence to
the contrary, conspiracy theorists will cling on to these ideas like drowning
sailors to a piece of driftwood or politicians to their scrap of power so that
no-one can prise their fingers therefrom. </span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Here’s a fairy story:</span></b><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;"><span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>There was once a wicked witch in the West. Originally she was from the
East where she had believed that everything that mattered could be weighed and
measured and there was no need for any of the airy fairy flim flam that so many
mortals worried about. But she had a rather beastly time in the East so she
transported herself on her broomstick to the West where she developed a grudge
against the gooey, sticky parts of mortal life that made her feel unhappy and
she came to want to destroy everything that could not be weighed and
measured.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>She thought that everybody
else should shut themselves in a cupboard and just go away. But nobody would
listen to her silly ideas so she wrote all her grievances in a little book.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And then she died and with her last breath
she cursed the world and wished that all mortals be turned to stone because in
that way they could be weighed and measured. At first, anybody who read her
book laughed at it because it was very silly and childish.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>(And very badly written.) But one day some
greedy and selfish crooks thought that they would do better out of the world if
greed and selfishness were the made the things to be, so they took the wicked
witch’s silly book and said to all their friends that this book had magic
powers and would change the world as they wanted.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And gradually the book was passed around and,
because these men said that the book was true.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Slowly, slowly, the magic spell began to work and a dark shadow was
unleashed upon the whole world because everybody believed that this was true and,
what’s more, how things had to be.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And
faster and faster, all the good things that were in people’s hearts like love
and friendship (because the wicked witch had said such things were unfeasibly
gooey and sticky) were replaced by selfishness and greed and hate and fear and
everybody felt unhappy but they didn’t know why.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And they began to blame everything that was
good and speak out for the evil things that were now rampaging through the
world even though they were making themselves more and more unhappy.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And one of these crooks whispered in the ear
of another powerful witch from another country and she said that everything
that had gone before was now to be forgotten and laughed at.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And so it was.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The darkness descended on the world like a
thick choking fog.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And people had no way
of defending themselves against it and they began to turn to stone because a
stone is easily weighed and measured.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">OK
not a very good fairy story but the best I can do.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It’s here to illustrate the notion that ideas
can be passed around and believed despite any evidence to the contrary.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>This is called cognitive bias.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We are all cognitively biased one way or
another.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>There are many things we
believe because… well, because we believe them.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>And the unhappiness it causes is called cognitive dissonance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">If
you haven’t guessed already, the originator of all this tale is Russian born
pulp fiction writer, Ayn Rand.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>In Ayn
Rand’s grindingly awful world stability would be achieved by having no
government and with all individuals concerned only with their own ends.
Altruism would be discounted and only self-interest allowed. What is
frightening is that her bonkers belief became widespread among people who
became big players in Silicon Valley and, eventually, though Alan Greenspan right
into the heart of US government where the ideas brought about the collapse of
two world economies; that of South east Asia in the nineteen nineties and the
whole western economy in 2008. We shudder at this nonsense, these bizarre ideas
of individual isolation one from another which have so thoroughly soaked into
contemporary society through the vectors of Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher
the latter who famously said <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“There is no such thing as society”</i></b>.
Yes, it’s true, she did actually say that in an interview with Women’s Own
Magazine on 31<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> October 1987 and it was an idea directly channelled
from Rand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">While
these policies derived some intellectual underpinning from economists such as </span><span style="background: white; font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Friedman and Hayek, it was essentially Rand’s philosophy that was at the
stony heart of the whole enterprise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">And
when this philosophy was put into action it devolved power from governments to
the banks.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And the banks had only one
end in view – accumulating money. It was an extraordinary display of open and
naked greed, a great slobbering banquet that continued for years until nearly
every cupboard and fridge was empty whilst the rest of us looked on in
horror.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>This was Ayn Rand’s philosophy
of self-interest written on a world scale.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>And in the end it was the small person who was left with a monstrous
bill for the beanfeast which he or she was absolutely and utterly unable to
dispute. What’s more the small person was made to feel the guilty parties in
this farrago.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We feel powerless before
this swelling tide. We cannot cope so we turn our faces to the wall, reach for
the remote control or pound, pound, pound mindlessly along the clifftop and in
the end we do nothing at all about it.</span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">“But,
hey!<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Hang about!”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Says Skidmore looking up from his
drink..<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“Here you are banging on about
not believing in conspiracy theories of the world and you’ve just farted out
one of the biggest.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The virtual collapse
of Western Civilization brought about by a pulp fiction writer. How come you
can believe in this and not the one about the moon-landings or whatever?”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Well, OK., Skidders.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>You, of course, have me banged to
rights.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>That is my cognitive bias coming
to the fore. Except that I would defend myself by saying that actually all of
this is well known and documented.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The
people involved are open and have discussed it.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>They admit to it openly. The perpetrators speak freely about it with
little remorse. The banks did a job and they got away with it, bonuses and all.
So this is a conspiracy that is actually happening now and is a proud part of
modern economics.</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">OK.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Here is another story and one I was involved in and know, hand on heart,
to be true.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">I
was travelling by train down Italy and happened to share a compartment with a
young Swedish guy.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>He was affable and
easy going but for some reason he felt compelled to show me the contents of his
suitcase.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It was literally stuffed full
of bank notes.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>He happily explained how
he had sold everything he owned and was taking the cash to join a group in
Corfu, the then headquarters of the Scientology movement.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I knew nothing about Scientology and he
persuaded me to meet up with him on the island and he would show me round.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>As it turned out the headquarters was a large
rusting hulk moored in the harbour.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The
acolytes, having handed over all their worldly possessions were living and
eating in communal dormitories in fairly Spartan conditions.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Nothing strange there.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>There was any number of weird cults living communal
lives at that time.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Except that the
“Clears” the officers or priests or whatever they were, seemed to have a high
old time frequenting the bars and taverns of the town and the founder of the
cult, the science-fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard was living further down the
quayside in a large white motor yacht draped with bikini-clad lovelies.
Cognitive dissonance on the grandest of grandiose scales. I declined the
opportunity to throw in my lot with them.</span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">And
the same applies to the Nigerian Princess scam and other hoaxes.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Apparently the far-fetched nature of the
narrative is designed to eliminate all but the most gullible.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The scammers want to weed out anyone who
might cause trouble but for the poor unfortunate who falls for the scheme they
will be drawn gradually into a web of intrigue.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Once you have parted with your details, or even the thousand dollars the
Princess needs to pay bribes, you are hooked and you will put aside your doubts
because you are now afraid of losing your first investment or even from fear
that you will be made to look stupid by not following up on the deal. The
deeper in we get, the more we earnestly believe and the harder it is for
rational thinking to apply.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">And
as I dig deeper into this morass I seem to see that what ties this all together
and fuels its onward march is this disengagement I was talking about
earlier.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Not only a disengagement from
politics but from humanity itself.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>All
of these phenomena that I've touched on have their roots in a distancing from,
not only the levers of power, but the actual machinery of common human
existence.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The Conspiracy theorists,
The Randists, the Scientologists, the Bankers, the Rhapsodists, the Capitalists
and other hoaxers and scammers. Who can tell them apart?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>They see a world so maddened that it can be
driven for their own ends. And so they can disseminate their own stories, the
conspiracies, the year zero, the religions, the accumulation of money -
anything to give them some justification for their existence.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Their stories spread.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We desire an explanation for the entirely
unearned misfortunes that befall us. It seems somehow easier to believe a
complex lie than the simple truth. As Joseph Goebbels is often misquoted as
saying </span><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">“<span style="background: white; margin: 0px;">in the big lie there is always a certain
force of credibility; because the broad masses of a nation are always more
easily corrupted in the deeper strata of their emotional nature than
consciously or voluntarily”. In other words “The bigger the lie, the easier it
is to believe.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Thus the welter of
propaganda of the press and the internet is lapped up by people who feel they
simply do not have the time or the resources to cut through to the truth. </span></span><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">The stories become the narrative of a
whole people and, as such, they become the truth of the politicians, the
spiritual leaders, the wealthy that they can manipulate to maintain their status.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #404040; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">"We were taught that we were
being persecuted because we were God's chosen people and that the world outside
didn't understand us," Anna Baron The Polygamists Daughter.</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">So,
Skidmore,<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I’m going to try to engage
with the world and encourage all other artists to fill the gap that the media,
both official and social, have left or have deliberately avoided.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Theatre
is, and should be the art of engagement.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>It is collaborative, social.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It
contacts the deepest levels of human experience. But yet I know that if I try
to use my playwriting to counteract this nonsense then I am in danger of losing
my perspective.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>My own cognitive bias
will become only too apparent and that may not ultimately fit with the
characters I portray.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What’s more a one
sided polemic can only be as dull as ditchwater to an audience.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I must see and understand.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I must engage with my subject matter in a way
that will allow my characters to speak with their own truth.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Above all I must let the audience engage with
my characters and tease out a different narrative from the one they might have
accepted up to that point.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But in order
to do that, I must follow Nietzsche’s thinking and endeavour to understand
myself first.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-55912653877261405342017-02-08T12:06:00.004+00:002017-02-14T12:16:01.526+00:00Chapter 2a) Belief, Bias and Common Humanity. A meditation on playwriting in the Age of Untruth. Apollo and Dionysius. <br />
<h2 style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
</h2>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">The
authentic narrative is a sensory explosion occurring within an intellectual
context.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We know it when we feel it as acutely
as we feel a kick on the shins at a chess match.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">So
can theatre, the greatest illusion of all, articulate anything meaningful about
combatting trickery and fraud?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>In other
words: is it possible to create a plausible, authentic narrative within all
that fakery? I’m going to stick my neck right out here and say that is exactly what
theatre it is for and what it was first invented to do.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Playwrights
control and guide the emotional journey.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>The audience experiences something different from what they know, thereby empathising and
understanding at a deep, visceral level.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">I’ll
come back to the mechanics of theatre and writing for it in a later chapter But
I also want to explain how I feel theatre has become side-tracked away from its
primary function.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The desire for an
instant gratification has reduced many forms of theatre to spectacle.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Exciting and thrilling funny and even
emotionally engaging it may be but in the end, hollow and without heart.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>That is not to decry the theatre of spectacle
but it loses so much more that it could be doing.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Theatre may not be able to change the world
but it can certainly set out to engage and challenge.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">At the core of
live theatre experience is the fact that each performance is new and
different.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>No actor can reproduce the
exact same circumstances of performance night after night.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>He or she brings themselves to it with all
their own foibles and disappointments.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>And we all know that the audience is different performance by
performance.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The reaction to the wild
shamen on stage maybe quite different on a wet Thursday afternoon from a joyous
Saturday night out.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">The actor is
key, he or she is living, breathing and sweating.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It is up to the playwright to give the actor
the means to create that rank, odorific moment.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>And the shape of the play provides the narrative underpinning that will
make this more than a moment in time. Plays happen here and now right in front
of and, perhaps, in and around the audience.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>The actors are constructing and driving characters and their stories
right in front of our eyes.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Plays happen
to everyone in this room.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Peter
Brook, in his seminal work “The Empty Space” decries a form of theatre he terms
“Deadly Theatre”.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“A doctor can tell at once between the trace
of life and the useless bag of bones that life has left; but we are less
practised in observing how an idea, an attitude or a form can pass from the
lively to the moribund. It is difficult to define but a child can smell it
out.”</span></i><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Jerzy
Grotowski when he talks about physical theatre, is not talking about empty
acrobatics but in the direct, living engagement of the actor with the text. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“Why
do we sacrifice so much energy to our art?<br />
<br />
Not in order to teach others but to learn with them what our existence, our
organism, our personal and repeatable experience have to give us; to learn to
break down the barriers which surround us and to free ourselves from the breaks
which hold us back, from the lies about ourselves which we manufacture daily
for ourselves and for others; to destroy the limitations caused by our
ignorance or lack of courage; in short, to fill the emptiness in us: to fulfill
ourselves...art is a ripening, an evolution, an uplifting which enables us to
emerge from darkness into a blaze of light.” <br />
― </span></i><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/67868.Jerzy_Grotowski"><b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Jerzy Grotowski</span></i></b></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Antonin
Artaud when he describes a Theatre of Cruelty<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">. </i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“I would
like to write a Book which would drive men mad, which would be like an open
door leading them where they would never have consented to go, in short, a door
that opens onto reality.” <br />
― </span></i><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/23378.Antonin_Artaud"><b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Antonin Artaud</span></i></b></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">,
</span></i><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/73389"><b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Selected Writings</span></i></b></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">These
great thinkers about theatre are all trying to capture is the idea of
Authenticity in performance and production. They want genuine commitment to the
performance by performers and audiences alike. If a performance does not leave
us shaking with emotion, angry, fearful, delighted, in love with the world,
then it has failed.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Actor and audience
alike should feel challenged, uplifted, crushed, beaten and absolutely
shattered.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And, in that communion, a
sense of well-being and grace.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">On
the other hand, apparently, the other great thinker about the role of theatre
in the twentieth century, Berthold Brecht, propounded the idea of making the
audience less engaged emotionally in a work by proposing an Epic Theatre that
stripped the </span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">spectator of the need to identify emotionally with the
characters or action before him or her.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>He
felt it should instead provoke rational self-reflection and a critical view of
the action on the stage He was concerned that emotional engagement engendered
complacency in his audience and he employed</span><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;"> what became known as “alienation techniques”.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;"><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>In fact the word “alienation” used in this
context is a bit of a red herring. I think the Brecht, like Brook and
Grotowski, <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>was driving at undermining
the primly defined conventions of theatre as he saw it.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The Deadly Theatre of the glossy, bourgeois
light comedy. He wanted to give the pendulum a push in the opposite direction. He
was a man of the theatre and understood the necessity of emotional engagement
in his plays even if he didn’t preach it. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Ironically, Brechtian Theatre has become a
style of the mainstream.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Contemporary
audiences are much less challenged by such techniques than they might have been
in the 1930s.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We have absorbed Brecht
and his ideas into the mainstream.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Brecht
was not trying to undermine theatre as a whole but to “re-function it” and to
make it more relevant and challenging.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">For
me, the key to this is Nietzsche’s idea in “The Birth of Tragedy” that the
individual can lose themselves in a collective Dionysian event and thereby
undergo an ecstatic transformational experience while recognising the
authenticity of the created world and how it coincides with the real.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxD9tweHfws6Br-lrEvcAXCpPNRG6uxtB2HWdzGB_LYyfO_Y-a1k8hnU0o-gaImzubLD3c2YsHc-fLIL7rjjMUN_qc8NJplXdFpy7YQcAiG7Vx5bq1-7NRPjcLpUt_GX2QNcRV/s1600/Apollo+and+Dionysius.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxD9tweHfws6Br-lrEvcAXCpPNRG6uxtB2HWdzGB_LYyfO_Y-a1k8hnU0o-gaImzubLD3c2YsHc-fLIL7rjjMUN_qc8NJplXdFpy7YQcAiG7Vx5bq1-7NRPjcLpUt_GX2QNcRV/s320/Apollo+and+Dionysius.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">In
Greek mythology, </span></i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo" title="Apollo"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Apollo</span></i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"> and </span></i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dionysus" title="Dionysus"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Dionysus</span></i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"> are both </span></i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Son_of_God" title="Son of God"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">sons</span></i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"> of </span></i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zeus" title="Zeus"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Zeus</span></i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">. Apollo is the god of
reason and the rational, while Dionysus is the god of the irrational and chaos.
The Greeks did not consider the two </span></i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polytheism" title="Polytheism"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px; text-decoration: none;">gods</span></i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"> to be opposites or rivals, although often the two
deities were entwined by nature.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The
Apollonian is based on reason and logical thinking. By contrast, the Dionysian
is based on chaos and appeals to the emotions and instincts. - <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Wikipaedia</b></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Thus
theatre explores our need for authenticity twice over.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>First in the great Apollonian consistent
world that that the playwright creates and reports on and secondly in the
Dionysian immediacy and transformative power of the event itself.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
Note, that I am not saying what form that authenticity takes, just that the drama needs to have both plausibility and deep engagement with its subject matter. And that must come from the playwright. If you like, that predicates a third form of Authenticity, that contained and manifested in the playwright herself.<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Nietszche
suggests that the only way we can attain any form of enlightenment is by
scrupulous self examination.in which we disclose the furthest reaches of ourselves.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>By implication he says there is a rich inner
life to be explored and that truthfulness in this exploration is the only
virtue.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>If, as playwrights, we want to observe
truth in our work then we must chase down the inner workings of ourselves and thence our
characters as if we were the Spanish Inquisition.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">But
in this fractured, opinionated world of 2017, which writers have the resources
either in time or expertise for this critical examination of themselves and
their own writing?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Where are the
great works that seek to portray and explain the current divisions in society?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Where are the contemporary “Three Sisters”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“Hedda Gabler”.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Where are the bold playwrights like Aphra
Behn or Dario Fo? Sadly, playwrights are losing opportunities to write with
such engagement, to construct towering mountains of ideas or to create worlds
of experience.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And without those
opportunities, the skill withers away. Many of the current ways into
playwriting are to blame.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The ten minute
sketch or the monologue are excellent introductions to the art but they are not
the art.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>A ten minute play is really a
sketch and while it may be funny, thoughtful, clever, witty it simply does not
have the room to construct a proper narrative or to follow characters that are
allowed to build and develop.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The ten
minute sketch is an art form in itself but it is not playwriting.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And I believe this is where we are losing the
skills and sensibilities required in constructing plays.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Writing a play is a marathon not a
sprint.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It is a five day test match
rather than a T20 Big Bash.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Emerging
playwrights ought to be given real incentives to write real plays, and, I
suggest, as soon as the plays become big and challenging with room for big
ideas then audiences will be enticed back as they always are to the authentic
narrative which has no counterpart in the other media..</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Many young
writers have these important imperatives in their work. They may be dealing with
the big subjects but unless there is room for their work to grow in size and
scope then they will not be able to create the theatre that is so desperately
needed.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>At the same time, they hear only
the glib quick cut language of film and television making. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>They are not sufficiently exposed to the
theatrical narrative style which requires time to develop.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Theatre needs to be more contemplative and
require exposure over longer periods than the disposable media. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">I have suggested
before that there ought to be some way for young writers to serve the sort of
apprenticeship that I had. I was given opportunities to work alongside
established playwrights and directors, to sit in on rehearsals, to stand on the
side of the stage and watch actors at work.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>I was given the opportunity to handle a few rewrites for other writers
and eventually to work with studio companies on my own works.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">It is essential
that theatre is grabbed back from the accountants and gatekeepers.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And wrested from control of the large
commercial funders who would seek to channel the inspiration of the
creatives.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We must join forces with
like-minded creatives and producers<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>and
write the sort of theatre that needs to be written. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Theatre
in its greatest form is like a towering moving crystal ice sculpture loud with
trumpets and voices that has the power to drive an audience to the further
reaches of their feeling and comprehension.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Today it has become the artform smashed into a million tiny glittering
shards, all beautiful in themselves but unable to generate the visceral
response that Brook and Grotowski and Artaud were challenging us to
provide.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And if we are not careful, if
we do not show young writers how to aspire to creating this greater thing,
those fragments that are left will melt away altogether leaving us infinitely
poorer.</span></i></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-31467893673361459552016-12-15T15:15:00.000+00:002017-01-04T13:34:24.612+00:00Chapter 12 - Belief, Bias and Common Humanity<br />
<h2 style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Filling the Empty Space</span></h2>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxnUP0wqgbMXkp909wAT0i2SFb5vRawEEx-lweFisUQM-KkDifdV1UHLljIgmo8Ld7z-b7fS97ONuzPGHW3_-58e1caHGP5SD1hhlxp11HlcMuCBsrkvHK3c3O9t35zdaIFqqa/s1600/Empty+Stage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxnUP0wqgbMXkp909wAT0i2SFb5vRawEEx-lweFisUQM-KkDifdV1UHLljIgmo8Ld7z-b7fS97ONuzPGHW3_-58e1caHGP5SD1hhlxp11HlcMuCBsrkvHK3c3O9t35zdaIFqqa/s320/Empty+Stage.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Skidmore
and I were having a drink in a bar one evening after attending a performance of
some dire piece of performance work masquerading as drama when he suddenly said
“I’ve written a few pieces for the magazine at Uni, I think I’ll have a go at
writing a play next.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>How do I go about
it? What sort of story is best for a play?<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>How long should it be?”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And
suddenly everything goes all wobbly and the room spins round and round as in an
old episode of Doctor Who.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Mind you I
had been drinking home brewed scrumpy all evening but I did think this was one
of those portals into those time loops where our actions are repeated over and
over again for ever and I had had this conversation so many times before.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">I
asked, as I do every time “Why do you want to write a play?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Why not a novel or a short story or a poem?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">“There’s
a competition I’d like to enter.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I definitely
think I could win it.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>All I want is an
idea and I’ll give it a go.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Well,
that’s an answer I suppose.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Not one I
wanted to hear.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Perhaps I should have
phrased it differently.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“What is the
idea you have that can only be expressed as a play?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What are the particular attributes of the
narrative that make it so that it can only be expressed in a play? <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Plays are hard work and if you could express
yourself in a short story or even a haiku, you’d have a lot less heart-ache.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">But
this time our young hopeful is not to be put off. “It can’t be that
difficult.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>You write them all the time.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Well,
yes, I couldn’t disagree.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>There is no
actual law against anyone having a go at such an undertaking.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And in answer to his initial enquiry I had to
admit there are no actual rules about how much and what subject. And I never,
ever advise people about how they should write. But I liked Skidmore for all
his rather callow, erratic, exuberant approach to the world and I didn’t want
him to get involved in something that might make him unhappy so I thought I
might try and guide him with a few pearls.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">All
right, I say “How much experience do you have of theatre?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>How much do you know about that unique
relationship between actors and audiences?<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>What do you know and expect of your own relationship with the audience?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">“I
don’t think I need to go into that too much.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>That’s for the director to sort out.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">That
is also true.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Up to a point.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Directors need to be given freedom to explore
the subject and don’t need to be told how to direct a play.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Particularly by someone like Skidmore.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But that’s not what I’m driving at, either.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">“So
you’re saying that you don’t need to engage with the audience yourself?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>You place your work before them and they like
it or lump it.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>A tiny bit arrogant,
don’t you think?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Skidmore
frowned at that.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I don’t think he’d ever
been called arrogant before.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Then he
brightened as he always does in adversity. “I think you’re deliberately
misunderstanding me. Anyway, the play is just the words.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I leave the gubbins to the techies.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Now
there you are wrong, young Skidmore.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Comprehensively irredeemably wrong.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Plays are not works of literature.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>They are one part of a huge collaborative effort by actors, directors,
lighting people, audiences, cleaners, ice-cream sellers.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>That’s why I say to all new writers who have
to listen to me ranting on from my stool in the corner of the bar: “Before you
put pen to paper you must get to know theatre and the way it works.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>You need to have all that firmly planted in
your mind, the smell of sawdust and of paint, the sounds of rehearsals in a
draughty hall somewhere, the anxiety of the producer that the thing is about to
work.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>You need to know all this because
a play needs to come from the theatre and is not bolted onto it.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Have you read Peer Brook’s “The Empty Space”?”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But when I looked up, Skidmore had ceased
listening and was attending to his I-phone.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">The
answer I should have given right from the start was, “If you want to write
plays then start by getting stuck into theatre.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I really was getting worked up. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>This was a subject I had decided views on and
I wasn’t going to be ignored. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“Now
listen here, young fellow. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It doesn’t
really matter whether it’s professional or amateur but you must understand theatre
as a living, breathing organism before you can begin to think about delivering
the instructions that will prod this leviathan into motion.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It also doesn’t really matter what you are
going to do within the theatre.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Just be
somewhere where you can observe and learn.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>When I got thrown out of school I hitch-hiked to London and not knowing
anything better, I went from stage door to stage door asking if there was any
work to be had.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>By some extraordinary
fluke heard of a job as a stage hand.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It
was from the vantage point of the side of the stage that I was able to watch
great actors and theatre makers at work.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Later, I became a very junior stage manager in the North West of
England.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It was sitting in on rehearsals
in freezing cold rehearsal rooms, marking up prompt copies with coloured
pencils held in shaking gloved hands that I learnt how the hidden mechanisms of
plays actually work.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What paths the
directors and actors took through the intricacies of scripts, how they came to
understand what a play was about and how best to serve the script…”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I tailed off because Skidmore had lost
interest in my c.v. altogether and had wandered off to drink tequilas with some
old buddies from Uni. Leaving me to carry on musing about the subject. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Theatre
is the oldest expression of some of the deepest human instincts.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The playwright’s job is to lead the complex
process of thought that leads to that expression.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Yet in the twenty-first century many of the
enormous possibilities of drama have been lost to a superficial welter of
acrobatics, music and visual effect while the skills of playwriting, character
construction and dialogue have been downgraded to that of mere pen holder for
other theatre makers. For three thousand years, theatre has provided a crucible
of thought and argument.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It has
challenged the status quo and reflected on the great changes in society and
watched civilizations come and go.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It
has mocked the privileged and epicene and it has raised to our consciousness
those who are oppressed and down trodden.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>It has provided relief in the times of crisis and serious dialogue when
things were going smoothly.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It can be
both ridiculously funny and jarringly emotional.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It provides high ritual and low cunning.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But because playwriting is seen as something
of a dilletante pass time, the subject of many university theses, it has lost
its heart and soul.<span style="margin: 0px;"> Aspiring p</span>laywrights like Skidmore are
encouraged to write ten minute sketches for competitions instead of committing
the years of work necessary for real drama.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">“What
you want to do Young Skidmore, is devote yourself to cutting through all the
obfuscation and razzamatazz and get back to the heart and soul of the
thing…<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Read Peter Brook… Skidmore…<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Skidmore!</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-71497312367961991992016-11-03T20:00:00.000+00:002016-12-15T15:05:40.982+00:00Chapter 11 - Belief, Bias and Common Humanity <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="Secrets"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Secrets
and Lies – Inner dialogue</span></span></b></a><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 52px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 52px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #383838; font-family: "georgia";">Some liars are so expert they deceive themselves.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #383838; font-family: "georgia";"> </span></span><span style="color: #383838; font-family: "georgia";">-</span></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #383838; font-family: "georgia";">Austin O’Malley</span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">People
tell lies.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>That might come as a bit of a
shock to you having lived your life in your sheltered, honest-to-goodness
tell-it-like-it-is neighbourhood.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But
let me assure you that some people are capable of ejecting absolute
eye-popping, heart-stopping, teacup-dropping humdingers of lies.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>In fact, some people are so given to telling
whoppers that they can’t tell where truth ends and lies begin.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And, sadly for us, neither can we.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Sometimes we find we have lived right next
door to someone who has been living their whole life as a lie.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And when the police call to ask us if we
suspected anything of our serial killer neighbour we say with hand on heart “We
didn’t have the slightest clue, officer.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Not a whisper.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The chap was the
quietest, kindest, nicest church-goer you could ever have the pleasure of
sharing your gardening implements with.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Mind you, there was the time the shears came back with suspicious stains
all over the blades and he said he had pricked his thumb on a rose thorn.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And so on and so forth.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And we wonder about the clean living vegan on
the other side who borrowed the electric drill once...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4V9xvVz1ujhnUvd5zm9LWtalW6FXZmmgLl5kQNLi9WaFkRv_thlQkkdGfZDDh2pr0roIakWIwBTfzzvBPnKgd6hb0QDyxPQxTiF9s3SdwMjY_LhIl47mC-eLOrthTlc_MboU/s1600/Lying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4V9xvVz1ujhnUvd5zm9LWtalW6FXZmmgLl5kQNLi9WaFkRv_thlQkkdGfZDDh2pr0roIakWIwBTfzzvBPnKgd6hb0QDyxPQxTiF9s3SdwMjY_LhIl47mC-eLOrthTlc_MboU/s320/Lying.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;"><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What I mean to say is that we all have an
inner life very little of which we share with other people.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And sometimes we find out about it and
sometimes even the owner of the inner life is not aware of it.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But for an actor studying a character they
are to play, it is the inner, secret life that is not written in the dialogue
that they will sniff out like a truffle hound.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>In the gaps that your dialogue allows, the actor will try to find the
actual words that remain unspoken but which motivate and drive the character
forward.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>In most cases it is the secret
inward dialogue that the character has with him or her self that is more
important than your actual words on the page.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>This is a secret world that the actor inhabits from curtain up to the
final climax.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It is the place where all
the debate and decision takes place.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>What happens in the pauses in a play by Pinter?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The dramas, the actual material drama happens
in the pauses.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">The
great neurologist and theatre director Jonathan Miller says <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">We must
allow for the way in which the unconscious works and guides our speech quite
unwittingly.</i><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>This doesn’t just mean
the Freudian slip but the way in which our unconscious brains are working on
problems that we may have quite forgotten about.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>How often do we retreat into that secret
world until our partner says: “You’re quiet.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>What are you thinking about?”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>To
which our answer is usually “Nothing”.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Now
here is an interesting conundrum for the playwright: how do you write something
invisible and unstated? Something that the character herself has no awareness
of?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The inexperienced playwright may
include stage–directions.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“He crosses to
the table, furrowing his brow and looking anguished.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Well, forget that sort of thing.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The actor finds that demeaning.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It is the actor’s job in association with the
director to worm out the inner dialogue.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Even less do you want to write the inner dialogue into the text.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“You look worried Harry.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“Yes I am suffering fearful flashbacks about
that car-accident in which that young girl was killed by my stupidity last
year.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“Oh dear, I hope you’re not going
to brood about that over dinner.” “I probably will, although I shall attempt to
put a cheery face on it.” What you must do as a writer is to make sure that you
have the inner dialogue with the character yourself.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>You must examine thoroughly the psyche of the
character and make sure that they behave entirely truly to both their inward
and outward dialogues.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>There will be
tiny nuances .<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>He or she might alter
their speech by just one word to give a little hint to the outside world of the
inner world.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What was it we used to say
in church?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“The outer visible sign of an
inward invisible force.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Because it is
surely the inner force that drives the character through the play. Think about
a play like “Cat on Hot Tin Roof” where the whole structure of the play is
driven by the lies that the protagonists hold close to them. This drives the
characters towards the inevitable climax. This is fine detail work and requires
close inspection of every single word you have written in the later drafts.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">The unseen and unspoken topics that are never uttered are usually to
do with shame, guilt embarrassment. They touch on status and emotional
engagement.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Intentions in these areas
must never be referred to directly. What’s more characters must be careful to
engage in such a way to indicate whether they want to discuss these ideas or
not.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The idea of opening or closing is well known
to actors and improvisors.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>An open
question leads to a thoughtful and, possibly, lengthy reply.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“What did you think of the pas de deux in Act
2?”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Leads to a fuller discussion than
the closed question: “Did you like it?” The closed question encourages a “yes”
or “no” answer while an open question leads on to greater things.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">I read an interesting piece in which some teacher suggested that
playwrights should never employ questions as part of dialogue writing.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I think I see what she is driving at but you
still have to deploy an interrogation at some point.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Obviously the clever playwright will imply
the questions but we still want our interlocutor to ask “Well, did you murder
Celia?” in some way or other.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Some
thoughts about Status</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">For most people the huge self examination that goes on throughout
all interactions is that of status. As soon as we walk into a room of strangers
we are weighing up the appearance, speech and manners of everyone else in order
to establish our place in the pecking order.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Status is vital to our understanding of the world but it is not as
straightforward as whether one speaks with a cultivated accent or has polished
shoes, though these outward signs do play an important part.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And status is itself can be fluid and
mutable.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I walk into the room and at
once I am on my guard, ready for an opportunity to exhibit my knowledge or
wealth. I must preserve my status at all times and, where and when possible,
increase it.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>This is more than just
getting one over on your adversary.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>One
can increase one’s status whilst appearing to lose it.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Thus you can make what appears to be a gross
error in manners in the eyes of one person but it may result in admiration from
others.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Consider opening and closing questions in the following dialogue.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And how are Andrew and Barry asserting status
through their use. Thus:</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Andrew:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Cup of
tea?</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Barry:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Not if
it’s a problem.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Andrew:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>No problem.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Barry:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Are
you making one for yourself?</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Andrew:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Earl
Grey or Typhoo?</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Barry:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What
are you having?</span></div>
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Andrew:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I’ve got
both.</span><br />
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face";"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Barry:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Can
you still get Ty-phoo?</span><br />
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face";"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Andrew:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I got
some in for when the vicar called.</span><br />
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face";"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Barry:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>That
might be nice.</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Andrew:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Last year.
It’s at the back of the cupboard.</span></div>
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Barry:<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Don’t
go to any fuss.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Earl Grey would be fine.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">And so on.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #00b050; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Andrew asks “Would you like a cup of tea?” in as off hand way as
possible. Barry must never reply “Yes” or “No”. These are forceful,
closing words which represent a status assertion and, as such, serve to reduce
one’s own status. (The answer “yes” Implying something like: “You
are too stupid to recognise that is why I am here” and “No” implying “I
wouldn’t drink that gnat’s piss you served up last time.”) Thus Barry must
reply with a status neutral question: “Are you making one for yourself?” and so
throwing the status problem back to Andrew who must reply with a further
question: “Do you prefer Earl Grey or Typhoo?” Barry’s answer: “Can you still
get Typhoo?” is nearly a status assertion in itself. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“I may have some in the back of the cupboard.”
Is a winning stroke. Yet notice how long Barry can hold out without every
giving a direct answer to the original question.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">I’m not certain how this operates in other parts of the world but in
the UK this is typical of a complex status interaction in which both speakers
are fencing to an unwritten but well understood set of
rules. There are similar rules to follow in interactions concerning
the weather which are really coded for one’s emotional engagement with the
world and must be kept carefully guarded at all times.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">It used to be axiomatic that in polite society one avoided
conversing about religion, sex and politics. In our dialogue here,
of course, these are the only safe topics of conversation.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">And whether this particular case is especially British or not, I’m
willing to bet there will be similar sets of unwritten rules throughout the
world.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Some
thoughts on Irony</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">We all know about Dramatic Irony.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>It’s a stock in trade for most playwrights wherein we let the audience
in on a secret that the protagonist in the play is unaware of.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It’s where the audience nudges each other and
says “he’s riding for a fall.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Greek
Drama is chock full of ironic situations because the audience should be well
acquainted with the story in advance.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>The best place to see it in action is in pantomime with a thousand kids
screaming “It’s behind you.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>As the Dame
is cheerfully unaware of the ghost creeping up behind her.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Irony is our way of distancing ourselves from problems or
problematic people. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It gives us an
outside view. It prevents us getting angry.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>In order to be ironic about something we need to be detached or held
apart from the source of our irritation.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>And irony is also a signal to others who may be our allies.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Sending out an ironic smoke signal allows
those who agree with our point of view to sidle up closer to us with a knowing
wink without always raising the suspicions of those who are the target for the
irony in the first place.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Irony sets us
apart but also joins us together.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The
knowing versus the ignorant.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The
Insiders against the outsiders.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And here
we’re stepping on dangerous territory.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>As soon as we have defined an otherness then we are as guilty of
shredding the network we are so wanting to build</span><span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">So
we need to be careful with an ironical inner dialogue that it’s not the playwright
speaking directly to the audience over the heads of the characters in the play.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">And
here is another fascinating aspect.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>You
the playwright are in conversation with the actor and director about the inner
dialogue through the words you have written, but how much do you want to reveal
to the audience and at what point?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Do
you want to let them into the secret at the beginning so they can watch the two
levels of the play at once, or leave it to the end as a grand deus ex machine
reveal?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>More likely you will want to
leave a little trail of clues throughout the piece that, if you are clever,
they arrive at the truth at the moment the other characters discover it. It’s
clever if you can pull it off.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I always
find it annoying when as an audient you have realised the truth of a character
in act 1 while the characters on stage don’t see it until two acts later.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>You’re almost climbing out of your seat to
shout “Can’t you see?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>He did it?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">You, the
playwright need to understand what your characters are not saying.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What topic is known by one or all of them and
is being ignored?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What is, as they say,
the elephant in the room?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And what sort
of code are your protagonists using to avoid mentioning it?</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px 48px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-28336389518585645432016-10-14T05:34:00.001+01:002016-12-15T15:05:27.170+00:00Chapter 10 - Belief, Bias and Common Humanity<h2>
Dialogue - The Heart of Playwriting</h2>
<br />
<br />
<h2 style="background: white; margin: 8px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-transform: uppercase;"><i>NOBODY SHOULD EMBARK ON THE DANGEROUS PATH OF
PLAYWRITING UNTIL THEY HAVE SPENT AT LEAST SIX MONTHS DRINKING COFFEE IN A BUSY
CAFE. </i><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><i> </i></span></span><i>PREFERABLY ONE YOU HAVE TO CATCH A BUS TO GET
TO. </i></span></h2>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOMuqPtirYuQErnmSKZSjgrfsaJfUQRj02312hwBTVIK4QdxpbuXF_TIJvm_7_A4JPCjLEnj9IqkVBmAfACIIfY0DfomJ1kC5pWv-9WnZqCvIQ3ZrOVkJEDgWWU1zQpRqvb9_/s1600/coffee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOMuqPtirYuQErnmSKZSjgrfsaJfUQRj02312hwBTVIK4QdxpbuXF_TIJvm_7_A4JPCjLEnj9IqkVBmAfACIIfY0DfomJ1kC5pWv-9WnZqCvIQ3ZrOVkJEDgWWU1zQpRqvb9_/s1600/coffee.jpg" /></a></div>
<h2 style="background: white; margin: 8px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-transform: uppercase;"><i><br /></i></span></h2>
<h2 style="background: white; margin: 8px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-transform: uppercase;"><i><br /></i></span></h2>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Skidmore:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I’ll do this. (nods to counter)</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Steve:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Eh?</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Skidmore:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Watchawan?</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Steve:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">(Purses
lips.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Makes bubbly noise.)</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">You come up on the dogs?</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Skidmore:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">(Pulls lips back over teeth. sighs) Uh?</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Steve:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Cheers
(Sucks teeth.) Uhhhh...</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Skidmore:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">(To barista) (makes despairing look)
Capuccino. (Gestures to Steve)</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Steve:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Nah.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Skidmore:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">My treat. I said. (Closes eyes) </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Steve:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Had
one here. Last week. Came in to see… (Makes grimace.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Laughs out loud for no apparent reason)</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Skidmore:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Hurry up. (Nods to Queue.)</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Steve:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">(Puffs
air. Tuts. Shrugs.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Nods)</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I don’t think… Milk. (Grimace again.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Mouths) Fridge.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Skidmore:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">(Raises eyebrows)</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Eh?</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Steve:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I
d’no.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Americano then.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Skidmore:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">(To barista) No milk</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Steve:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Cheers.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Barista:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Anything else?</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">(Skidmore
looks at Steve. Steve shakes his head)</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Barista:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">That’s five pounds exactly.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">(Skidmore
looks hard at Steve)</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Steve:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Eh?</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">(Skidmore
shrugs.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Studies shelves behind counter. Steve
pays.)</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Barista:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I’ll
bring them over.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Steve:</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Cheers</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I’m
not being entirely whimsical. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
idea is that as a play wright, as any sort of writer, you should listen to
people talking. As much and as often as possible.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> You need to listen closely and at some length
as you sip your americano. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">You
also need to blow the dust off your notebook and write down what they say and,
most important, the way they say it. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Until
you have spent hours and hours doing this and have acquired some understanding
of the way people speak to each other; the speech patterns and rhythms, then
you cannot begin to write plays. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Because
the stuff of plays is made up of the interactions and interplays of
characters. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">If
you can’t get that, then you can’t write a play. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Anybody can write a play that depends on situation
or plot but to write a play that depends on character requires an understanding
of how to build a character and how that character develops within and around a
plot. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Indeed, how the character and the plot are
inextricably linked. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">What
happens in a play can only happen because of that character and that character
drives what happens. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">And we reveal that
character by the way they speak.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">There
are no rules about getting a character to speak. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Indeed, you will find out very quickly as you
listen, that there are absolutely no rules to conversation at all. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Trying to record and reproduce is virtually
impossible. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Conversational
speech is broken, halting, discursive, unsettled. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Entirely without grammar or syntax as described in
the conventional manuals. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Sentences
have no verbs. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">They do not link
one to another. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">They are made up
partly of words, partly of sounds and partly of gestures.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">What’s
more, dialogues have very little logic. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">It
is quite possible for one person to espouse several quite contradictory ideas
at one time. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Sometimes our
interlocuters speak in other voices (the actual meaning of “irony” by the
way). </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Most of the time conversation does not follow the
neat ordered pattern of question and response we would expect as writers. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Most of the time people will only talk about
themselves. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Each question or
statement being answered or interrupted by their own experience. As a student
of conversation, I sometimes feel that the whole purpose of 90% of
conversations is entirely existential.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">That is, we are reaching out into the void merely to say “I am here”.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Yet,
somehow in this mish mash of half formed sentences and ill formed ideas some
sort of exchange does take place. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">It
may be indirect and convoluted but eventually some idea may be conveyed to the
other party.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">So
what do we playwrights learn from this? </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Firstly,
that our characters need to be freed from the conventions of written
speech. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">This gives us the opportunities to learn about the
reality of our characters. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Our
character can grow with our discovery of their little tics and
irregularities. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">And I don’t mean
that that gives us licence to write in some sort of ridiculous Dick Van Dyke
cockney voice. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I mean that we can
discover the outward signs of the inward workings of a character though their
speech. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">And as we write it we need to speak it out loud. We
are trying to record a spoken interchange so it only exists in some bare
notation as words on a page.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">In writing
dialogue it is, perhaps, useful to think of the words on the page as a sort of
code that reveals your intentions for the characters.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Secondly,
we need to remember that most conversations are about anything but the subject
in hand. This is especially true about complex and deep subjects. Previously
I mentioned our inbuilt willingness to suspend our disbelief.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">If you ally that with our need to co-operate
and collaborate in social situations you can begin to see how inevitable it is
that we will say things in a conversation that we may not believe in an attempt
to maintain the interaction.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">As
playwrights we need to understand and to embrace these apparent lies.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #5e5e5e; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">It takes quite a bit of beating about the bush before the
real feelings of our character are flushed out. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">This is what makes the process of play watching so
enjoyable. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">The audience are
voyeurs trying to understand something from the snippets of half formed
conversation they are allowed to overhear. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> As in real life in any coffee bar, we try to work out from these snippets,
what is going on in their lives.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What
sort of people they are. </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">And, of course, our characters are often
unreliable witnesses. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">They
lie, they prevaricate, they say the very opposite of what they really think and
feel. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">But as the watchers begin to know and understand
they begin to get more and more drawn in and engaged.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Thirdly,
we need to avoid the need for stage directions. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">If you’ve got the voice right then there is no need
to interject (humorously) or (bitterly) it must be there in the speech
itself. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">If you find you have to resort to stage directions
than you need to recast the speech. I would never present a play for
performance as written above.</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">It’s for
the actor to discover the little gestures and informal sounds that carry the
character through that interchange. Similarly, as a director, I get annoyed by
writers who write detailed character descriptions in the stage directions but
do not carry them through into their actual speech and actions. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">It is not good enough to describe a character as
“Young dynamic and ambitious” You need to show those attributes. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">You need to demonstrate how that ambition is
manifested or hidden through what they say and the choices they make in
conversation.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Fourthly,
plot needs to correlate with the characters you are drawing. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">If you are beating your characters into a particular
plot twist or situation then you have either got the plot wrong or the
character or, most likely, both. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
actions that a character takes are the ones that define that character and are
defined by that character. </span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">If
there is a surprising plot or character twist you need to ask yourself whether
you have buried that possibility deep within the psyche of the character you
are working with. You need to ask yourself “does it contradict anything that
has already been laid down?”</span></span></div>
<br />
<h3 style="background: white; margin: 0px;">
<a href="http://www.newscientist.com/article/mg21128285.900-quantum-minds.html?page=3"><span style="color: #74a3d0; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Quantum thinking and speaking</span></a></h3>
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">In
an article from</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></span></span><a href="http://www.newscientist.com/article/mg21128285.900-quantum-minds.html?page=3"><span style="color: #74a3d0; margin: 0px;">New Scientist</span></a><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #5e5e5e; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> Of
September 2011, Mark Buchanan</span></span><span style="color: #5e5e5e; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">
tries to relate the mathematics of the quantum world to human
interaction. An explanation, in effect, of our fuzzy way of going about
things. It casts an interesting light on the puzzle I have as a
playwright - the sheer impossibility of capturing or reproducing human speech
in all its wide, broken rambling, halting form but while still managing to
convey some sort of meaning. I have never managed to find a way of
notating speech in anything resembling a realistic, believable way.
Pinter arguably came the closest to making this work but he still had to resort
to a rather mannered "pinteresque" approach. Of course, a
playwright does not necessarily want to reproduce everyday speech
exactly. It would be massively tedious to the audience, and probably
totally incomprehensible but there is an inbuilt urge towards getting closer
than we have managed up to now. The reason being that we may wish to
describe in our plays a more realistic way of describing the trains of thought
of our characters. And those are inexorably linked to the way they
speak. I need to read the article several more times to get some deeper
insight but I like its drift.</span></span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-80656957595512716352016-08-09T13:54:00.000+01:002016-08-09T13:54:07.898+01:00Chapter 9 - Belief, Belonging and Common Humanity - Meditation on Playwriting<h2>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: red;">The mobile army of illusion -
Meaning and Metaphor</span></span></h2>
<br />
<h3 align="center" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: center;">
<i>Reach into your
toolbox of writing aids and pull out a metaphor</i></h3>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtwIDsm9IvXalycHNVaMbP6GE1eToYrNP9JelVV5bZZWpWf8F3wgli3BfMpJ5L4c7cxdoT6YwWliUTPyBxtNTlCEGD5KRy_gT7DbtG5CHYEQGIvZSVfwj5KUyw3HS5hbgDQBQq/s1600/tool-box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtwIDsm9IvXalycHNVaMbP6GE1eToYrNP9JelVV5bZZWpWf8F3wgli3BfMpJ5L4c7cxdoT6YwWliUTPyBxtNTlCEGD5KRy_gT7DbtG5CHYEQGIvZSVfwj5KUyw3HS5hbgDQBQq/s320/tool-box.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: calibri;"><br /></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Along
with all the other 7 and a bit billion other inhabitants of the planet, you’ve
gazed up at clouds on a summer’s day in seen faces and animals, lions and
dragons and strange landscapes, castles and mountains. You’ve experienced the same thing when you’ve
looked into the glowing coals of a fire.
That’s because we are programmed to make out faces and animals against a
confusing background of clutter. We need
to be able to distinguish friend from foe, or the attacker hiding in the
shadows. Sometimes this mechanism gets
slightly confused and we see faces where there are none but it is a capacity to
associate shapes or outlines with other images that we call metaphor. Metaphor is our way of letting one thing
stand for another and thereby create a trail of allusion and association. As I said in the last chapter, language tends
to be iconic – that is the sounds we make are arbitrarily associated with
particular meanings. But metaphor seems to provide a short circuit between idea
and idea. We live in a world of symbols and rituals. Everything we do and say has hidden
meaning. Everything implies something
else. We seldom unpick the metaphors and we can generally get the association
without having to understand an otherwise illogical connection. In fact, a
study of patients with localised brain damage has shown that there are areas of
the brain specifically devoted to the understanding and interpretation of
metaphor. “Vilayanur Ramachandran and his colleagues at the University of
California at San Diego were intrigued by four patients who were mentally
lucid, fluent in English and highly intelligent, but could not understand
proverbs. When one of the patients was asked to explain the adage "all
that glitters is not gold", for instance, he completely missed the
metaphorical angle, replying that people should be careful when buying
jewellery. All the patients had damage to part of the brain called the left
angular gyrus. This lies at the intersection of the brain's temporal, parietal
and occipital lobes, which process tactile, auditory and visual information
respectively. The findings were presented at a meeting of the Cognitive
Neuroscience Society this week in New York.” (From issue 2495 of New Scientist
magazine, 16 April 2005, page 18)</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;">What, then, is truth? A mobile army of metaphors, metonyms, and anthropomorphisms
– in short, a sum of human relations, which have been enhanced, transposed, and
embellished poetically, rhetorically, and which after long use seem firm,
canonical, and obligatory to a people: truths are illusions about which one has
forgotten that this is what they are; metaphors which are worn out and without
sensuous power; coins which have lost their pictures and now matter only as
metal, no longer as coins.2</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;">Says Frederick Nietszche</span></b><span style="font-family: calibri;"> In this
early essay, ‘On Truth and Lie in an Extra-Moral Sense’, </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Douglas
Ayling glosses this by saying each contextual occurrence generates appropriate
semantic resonances from within the words.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">In other words, our use of a particular
word or phrase reaches down into our brain and pulls out a rats’ nest of
related ideas and congruences. So the meaning of that word becomes, not a
single point of truth, but a fuzzy ball of associations. The picture that this confused, tangled
image, provides is sometimes clearer than the word or phrase itself. It offers some sort of ranging point around
which our meaning revolves. Clarity
comes because that ball of associations may contain associations that are
similar in the listener. They may not be
entirely the same but there are enough points of similarity to provide a
correspondence and thus a complex or difficult idea can be passed between us. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Metaphor
is central to our use of language and to our understanding of the world. Metaphor is sometimes more often associated
in the mind of the writer with poetry rather than playwriting. But a moment’s
thought will crush this. A playwright needs to play with the possibilities of
the language to convey complex ideas and most of that will be through
metaphor. We can indeed argue that
theatre itself is a metaphor for life and the resonances of the words in the
empty space should echo out into the real world and stay in the mind of the
listener for ever. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Think
logically but let that logic be flexible.
Our fuzzy, imprecise language enables us to access our fuzzy,
probabilistic thinking. Not only are
there more avenues of the brain explored by wider, looser speaking but also
better, more accurate conclusions are drawn from it.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Perhaps
for a playwright the message must be, if you want to make specific points, the
dialogue you use needs to be fuzzy and non-specific.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Metaphor can be novel and shocking or jaded
and banal and even so common in usage as to no longer even have the status of
metaphor. By the idea of “resonance”
(itself a metaphor) is one of the great tools of the creative writer. For the playwright, the correct selection of </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;">le mot juste</span></i><span style="font-family: calibri;"> is the means whereby inner
dialogue can be aligned with the actual spoken text. Choice of metaphor indicates a pathway of
thought, unconscious or conscious that reveals more than the character’s
dialogue reveals. For the audience they
will pass unnoticed but a trail of such metaphor choices will lead us to divine
instinctively more about the character than at first sight. So bear in mind
when choosing a metaphor, it will reveal a great deal about your own fund of
ideas and associations but we really need it to do that job for your
characters. Ask yourself, what does that
particular metaphor tell us about their back story and hinterland of ideas.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;"> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7GgmAkAGVkNdUmhEsnnxyQ3ttEwbt7ckmNpt3zkOhASCXFj3M-t3c4XTHuk7THD14xKZH48tPvuKeTf5hlS1DDLCcWTpVPRQ1nAJRTTsCrPYCxOJa7HTTV93I7mMvQv2UxNO-/s1600/bow-and-arrow-hi.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7GgmAkAGVkNdUmhEsnnxyQ3ttEwbt7ckmNpt3zkOhASCXFj3M-t3c4XTHuk7THD14xKZH48tPvuKeTf5hlS1DDLCcWTpVPRQ1nAJRTTsCrPYCxOJa7HTTV93I7mMvQv2UxNO-/s320/bow-and-arrow-hi.png" width="283" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<h3 style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i>Be bold in your
use of metaphor. Your arrows may just
pierce to the heart of the matter</i></h3>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-17838806044914144282016-07-30T09:27:00.000+01:002016-07-31T17:53:11.541+01:00Chapter 7 Belief, Bias and Common Humanity. Meditation on Playwriting <br />
<h2 style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 21.3pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Language - the Gloopy, Smeary, Muddy stuff we work with</span></h2>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 21.3pt;">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 21.3pt;">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">All true language is incomprehensible, like the chatter of a
beggar's teeth. </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Antonin Artaud</span></b></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: red; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">For
me language is a huge pile of wet, sticky clay.
I can plunge my hands in and pull out big dollops that I can smear over
my pages. I can create great gloopy
piles of the stuff or mould it into delicate little figures. I can pat it smooth and tranquil as a black
mountain tarn or I can hurl fists full of it around so that it sticks in foul
messes on anyone who happens to be passing by.</span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="color: red; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I apologise that I’m going to refer to the English language
throughout this chapter. That is not
some sort of colonial statement that plays can only be written in English. Far from it. But I feel that I have to try
and make my arguments mean something to my annoying acquaintance Skidmore who
has the attention span of a turnip and the linguistic ability of un pomme de
terre. Besides I use the English language for my work and it is by a process of
understanding the tools and materials of my trade that I hope to improve. For writers in other languages, I hope there
will be parallels and interesting facts about English that may amuse you
anyway.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="color: red; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">The English language as we know it came in to being so that our conquering
Norman overlords could converse with their Anglo-Saxon
underlings. It is not very much use being a conqueror if you cannot
get your peasantry to go out and about ploughing your fields and reaping your
harvests or fighting your battles for you. Consequently, all the
fripperies of grammar that beset the parent tongues were excised and we are now
blessed with a language that is so simple in construction that it has become a
lingua franca (an amusing and ironic description) for trade, commerce and general
communication round the world. This stripped down form of speech means
that someone from the forests of Papua New Guinea can make themselves
understood to a francophone from Montreal. English is a sort of Lego
language in which simple elements can be assembled using any bits and pieces of
vocabulary from any other language the speaker can lay his or her tongue to.
Consequently, it is unafraid of importing any vocabulary from any other
language that might prove useful. If we don’t have a word for an
item or an idea we import it. Or we just fabricate something vaguely
appropriate rather than trying to make it up according to some arcane set of
rules as is the practice in French.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="color: red; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">English is essentially a language of negotiation and commerce. For all its basic simplicity it is
deliciously imprecise and the reason that contract lawyers make so much money. As I pointed out earlier, the whole process
of writing and making plays is one of negotiation and collaboration so the
English speaking playwright has at her disposal a magnificent set of tools
ready sharpened to go about carving out a masterwork.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="color: red; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">On the other hand, the many strands that have fed into it also means
that the English language has a rich oversupply of vocabulary far beyond the
needs of basic communication. Thus each
new acquisition can take on an increasingly subtle interpretation of
ideas. And as it becomes ever more
complex in vocabulary and a minefield for those who are unwary in its
application. Because of all the imports and coinages words slip and
differentiate in barely perceptible shades. And above all, the true
English speaker will use words in a subtle, almost poetic fashion in which
basic words assume indirect, elliptical, cryptic colouring calling up a world
of strange hidden meanings and images. The writer of English must always assume
the mantle of a poet and the writer of dialogue in English drama must become
something of a magician weaving strange incantations and spells
together. (It is no coincidence that the word “spell” is of exactly
the same root as “spelling” meaning to assemble a word
correctly. The two concepts of controlling unseen powers are
directly linked).</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="color: red; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">The Lexicographer Laurence Urdang says </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">“It is a curiosity of English that it continuously acquires words from
other languages to expand its lexicon. Observers have often noted that even if
a new coinage or a loanword from another language starts with “exactly” the
same meaning as an existing word in English, the meanings begin to drift apart
before very long, one acquiring quite different frequency, distribution and
connotation from the other. ... Some words do become obsolete and are dropped
forever. Most, however, remain and develop nuances that expand for the writer
and speaker the opportunities for expression and expressiveness.”</span></i></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="color: red; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">In Singapore, for instance the language has mutated into </span></span><span style="background: white; color: #404040;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Singlish. Here “The
grammar mirrors Mandarin or Malay, the indigenous language of Singapore, by
doing away with most prepositions, verb conjugations, and plural words, while
its vocabulary reflects the broad range of Singapore's immigrant roots. Besides
borrowing from Malay, it also has words from Hokkien and Cantonese (from
southern China), and Tamil from southern India.”</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="color: red; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">So to record speech in English one must be aware at all times that
what is said contains drifts of meaning far beyond what the words themselves
convey. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Professor
Stephen Pinker suggests that language is hard-wired into the brain. It is something we do instinctively. He suggests that there is an innate language
that, rather than learning, as we develop we synchronise with other speakers
around us. Thus a child at between six
months and eighteen months can learn any language in the world. To his way of
thinking, language is not an add-on or by-product as Chomsky would suggest. I rather like this idea because after forty
years of listening to other people’s conversations in coffee bars and trying to
reproduce them as dialogue in plays, I have realised that language goes farther
and deeper and is more convoluted than the linguists or grammarians would have
us believe. There are whole areas of
speech that have entirely different rules from carefully formed written
speech. Listen to people talking and you
will hear strange, illogical thought pathways and the odd instinct to
synchronise speech patterns within a conversation so that each encounter seems
to develop its own rules and vocabulary. It seems to me that dialogue is not
only shaped by the people speaking, it also shapes their interactions together.
Two people speaking together will use a style and vocabulary unique to that
encounter. They will bring all sorts of
immediate thoughts and rhythms which will be different from any other
encounter. And will certainly be
different from any conversation they have with other individuals. Language like this is iconic. It is only arbitrarily associated with the
meaning that is to be conveyed. This is why I insist that plays are not
literature and should not be treated as such.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.2pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Marcus Perlman from
the University of Wisconsin-Madison and his colleagues wanted to test the assumption
that language is iconic rather than mere imitation of natural sounds. They
asked nine pairs of students to play an elaborate game of vocal charades, in
which they had to express certain words, such as big, slow or attractive, using
only simple vocalisations. No gestures or facial expressions were allowed.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.2pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">From the outset,
the students tended to pick vocalisations with similar acoustic properties,
such as duration and pitch, for many of the words. Over time, as these words
were said back and forth they became increasingly similar, both within pairs,
and between. </span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.2pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">There may
also be some evidence for this in the experiments with teaching sign language
to primates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether chimps and gorillas
can actually acquire human language or not is up for debate but there are signs
(ha) that they have a predisposition towards some sort of iconic communication
even when not influenced by human interactions.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.2pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">As babies we
understand instinctively that that babble of sounds we make with our mouths
somehow relates to those objects and actions that we see around us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, what is more, they also can stand for
those ideas and abstractions that circulate within our own brains and have no
actual correspondences in the world outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I may be able to see that you are angry by your facial expressions and
your actions in throwing over the furniture or punching someone but I will
never understand what you are angry about or why you are angry until you can
express that thought in words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">In
observations of other primates, it becomes clear that communications originate in
babies with all sorts of non-specific sounds, squeals and chuckles that align
with the spoken phrases of the adults around.
Listening in on the bus I hear that an enormous amount of our speech as
adults is made up of those sort of utterances and we manage with a relatively
small vocabulary of properly formed words but a rich vocabulary of the
non-specific stuff.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB79LEmQRKA_gYA57DnoDdkRNnZMHvJ71YqO_wfh_llGpI-izOx5w9eXAewyoDboqtNrq3eNxnfSY0MQ53dYEAtOE_rGh0CpsRTyjuROi1sBGv6tV1YPTykAkhTrIXN8fcS-Nd/s1600/sweary.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB79LEmQRKA_gYA57DnoDdkRNnZMHvJ71YqO_wfh_llGpI-izOx5w9eXAewyoDboqtNrq3eNxnfSY0MQ53dYEAtOE_rGh0CpsRTyjuROi1sBGv6tV1YPTykAkhTrIXN8fcS-Nd/s320/sweary.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: red; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">How many words
do you need to communicate with other people? And what would your list of
100 include? <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-12894638">The article here gives the 100 most commonly used words in the English language</a> but, of course, that doesn't mean they are the ones you
need most. I would have thought there ought to be a fair sprinkling of
nouns - for that would have to include "tea" coffee"
"computer" "phone" "car" or
"bus". There would have to be "sea" "rain"
"cold" "sun" and something to do with money like
"pound" (or "dollar" or "Euro") and
"card". States of mind: ""miserable"
"happy" "sad" or could I do those with mime? And I
would need some numbers, too. In fact, if I could mime one to ten with my
fingers, I would still need enough of those, say twenty and so on to make up
the list. And then there are those things you need to be able to
understand on the phone when trying to get through to the call centre
"press" "key" "hash" and "star" and
probably "Could I speak to your supervisor?" What about shopping
"Have you got this in a larger size?" and "will you give me a
discount because these are weeks past their sell-by date?" There'
that's my 100 already. But wait a minute, can I find room for
"friends" "Facebook" and “Blog"?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: calibri;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: calibri;"><br /></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">My
acquaintance Skidmore spends a great deal of time in front of the mirror making
sure that he looks just so when before he heads off to the casino. (Usually
with some of my money in his pocket). He
is very conscious of his personal style and ensures that his hair is gelled
into the exact quiff he requires and so on.
It is the same with his writing.
Although he doesn’t admit to it.
He agonises for hours over a single sentence trying to get it as gelled
into shape as his quiff. And, yes, I
think that sort of care and attention to detail is necessary. However, as a playwright, I have to remember
that my style is made up of a great deal more than the words on the page. Sometimes I must leave spaces for the
unwritten, sub vocal language. As I’ve
mentioned before, style is related to the personal choices we make as artists
but I must also leave room for an interpretation of that style. It would be intruding on the work of the
actor to nail down all those grunts and groans and sighs that are the real
material of language but I must make sure my style is able to encompass, not
only the style of the character I am creating but also the style of the actor
who has to make it come alive. The
language and words I use must indicate what I require rather than what I prescribe.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-13205817356934859702016-06-20T14:07:00.000+01:002016-06-20T14:09:37.535+01:00Chapter 6 Belief, Bias and Common Humanity. Meditation on Playwriting<h3>
Créativité, l'inspiration et Genius
Comment fonctionne l'improvisation</h3>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
Skidmore is indubitably the most annoying person
I’ve ever met. Apart from his habit of
trying to borrow money off me, he is nearing the end of a part time creative
writing course at Bournemouth University so he imagines that it behoves him to
question every aspect of my life as a writer.
The annoying thing is that sometimes he entangles me into that sort of
wrangle that gets under my skin and has me lying awake at two o’clock in the
morning trying to justify my existence.
The even more annoying thing being that at that time he is probably just
getting into his stride at the poker table and couldn’t give a toss for what
I’m worrying about.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
“What’s the
big deal about being an artist, then? This
whole writing thing is a piece of cake. Why
have I just spent all this dosh just to find out that any Tom Dick or Harriet
can be a genius?” He said with a dismissive wave and disappeared to meet up
with his current floozy in some bar or other.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
This is my answer to him. Of course, it would have been better if he’d
been there to hear it.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Absolutely.
Creativity is part of every human’s makeup and Everybody is blessed with
genius. Creativity is the ability we all have to gather a few bits and pieces
and make something that might be pleasing or useful to ourselves and, possibly,
to others. Those bits and pieces may be
words or pencil marks or pebbles or something altogether grander and more
robust making use of tonnes of concrete, timber, steel or aluminium. The creation itself may have explosive
qualities, it may save a life or serve some other function or it may just
exist. In other words, creativity is the
spark that motivates pretty well everything we do or make anew. So, let’s admit it, there is nothing magical
or out of the ordinary about creativity.
It is the ability to create that, given the right conditions, we all
have. Children are always mucking about
with stuff and everything they do or make is entirely new to them. Give a child a muddy puddle and some twigs
and leaves and they will create a whole world. But this capacity doesn’t leave
us suddenly when we reach adulthood. We
may just have to look for it deeper within ourselves.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">In
a similar way, genius refers to the attendant spirit that is allocated to
everyone at birth. Originally it meant an
actual God or angel who presided over our destiny in life. It became a tutelary spirit. The word itself
is associated with the Arabic Jinn or Genie (of which more later). From this is derived the idea of one’s natural
character or tendency. A person is not </span><i><span style="font-family: "calibri";">A
genius</span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> but </span><i><span style="font-family: "calibri";">possesses</span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> a genius or has genius within them. That genius can be looked on as unusual and
remarkable or it can comprise some perfectly natural ability or inclination
that is generally taken for granted. In other words, I’m using the term “genius” to
imply some sort of personal inclination or particular ability. I am not trying
to measure or value one manifestation of genius against another. Einstein (why do we always use Einstein when
talking about genius?) had a particular genius for visualising problems but he
did not (as far as I know) have a genius for playing the banjo. (I bet somebody
lambasts me on Twitter for not knowing about Einstein’s blue-grass skills) You
may have a genius for personal relationships, caring for someone or fixing
shelves. Or in Skidmore’s case for rubbing me up the wrong way.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
trick, of course, is recognising your personal genius and using it and,
certainly, practising it so that it grows and develops. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">What’s
more We actually do musicians or architects or cooks a severe disservice when
we call them geniuses. This implies that
they are mere celebrities that have been gifted with a weird ability. It's as though their skill and craft is something
they have no control over. But genius in itself achieves nothing. In fact,
these people have taken the genius that is within them and worked hard with it
to create a conduit for their particular style of creativity, a vehicle for the
novel Idea that we all applaud. Genius may be particular to the individual and
is the product of their self awareness and practice of it but we all have it.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
other two terms I’m using, Improvisation and inspiration are instrumental. They are the means by which we create or
exhibit our genius. They are the ways in
which our creative genius manifests itself.
And they work closely together.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But
first, let us talk about the thing itself, the artwork, the piece of
architecture, the scientific discovery, the new way of thinking. In the same way a baby is created by the
coming together of two cells, the new invention or idea is formed by the coming
together of two previous ideas. The baby
has characteristics utterly unique but which derive from both parents. And in the same way that a baby is the
product of its parent cells. The new idea is never completely novel but derived
from generations of ideas stretching back through the centuries. And the more distant the original ideas from
each other the stronger and more powerful the progeny. This is in some way analogous to the natural world
in which, if two distant plant species can be encouraged to breed together, the
outcome can exhibit an extraordinary strength called hybrid vigour.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
success or failure of this creative flow of tender hybrid ideas is the ability
of the gardener to discriminate, to pick out those plants which will have this
hybrid vigour and which will produce the most pleasing or useful result. This ability to discriminate is crucial. It is the exercise of choice which gives
value to a creation. The human services thinker John O’Brien says </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Choice defines and expresses individual
identity</span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";">”. The process we call art is the exercise of choice and it is,
again, open to everyone. The choices we
make define us as people and what we are as people defines the choices we make.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Art
is choice. Every artwork is the result
of a series of choices made by the artist.
These choices range far beyond what particular colour a painter uses on
his or her palette. What aspect of the
subject do they choose, what mood, what does she include and what does she
leave out? Why does she make a mark just
here and not over there? And so on with every other form of artistic
endeavour. In a play, what particular
moments in a narrative does the writer select to dramatise? What characters and what characteristics do
they exhibit that makes them part of the story?
The artist is consciously or subconsciously making choices
continually. They are asking the
questions who? where? what? how? why? And the finished work is the unique result of
those choices. That is why no artwork
can be like any other because the myriad of choices can only lead to what's
known as "a deterministic chaos pattern" - the butterfly effect.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Often we cannot consciously account for the choices
we make. These unconscious choice makers
we call “inspiration”. Style and choice are inextricably intertwined. It is our unique style that enables us to
make the choices we do. The choices we
make are seen by the outside world as our style. It’s probably a bit of a let
off for the philosopher to be able to define “inspiration” as “a breath from
God” but your style both as an artist and as a person are at the heart of what
makes you an individual and different from the rest of the seven and a bit
billion on the planet but whatever subconscious drivers these inspirations may
derive from, they are still valid. For
me, this mysterious breath is indeed a marker of who I am as an artist. I can judge it from that point when I am
writing a play and the characters I have created suddenly take on a life of
their own and head off in directions I could never have forecast. When
inspiration rushes by all I can do is to hang on to my hat and follow it
wherever it leads me</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">I love those random events and
decisions that pepper our lives. Those unintended and unexpected consequences
of decisions that are made on the spur of the moment or as a result of
sudden twists of circumstance. Here are three of my favourites from famous
studio recording sessions: </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">1) Raphael Ravenscroft, booked
to play a tiny part on the Gerry Rafferty “Baker Street” session, tries out the
guitar part on the out of tune saxophone that he hurriedly fetches from his
car. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">2) Session musicians are paid by
the number of instruments they play so Herbie Flowers needing to get an extra
few quid doubles his electric bass with string bass on Lou Reed’s “Walk on the
Wild Side” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">3) Al Kooper realises his guitar
playing is not as good as Mike Bloomfield, so slips unnoticed into the studio
to play the Hammond organ but, as he is not a natural organ player, he follows
the rest of the musicians a semiquaver behind in an effort to keep up with the
chords the others were playing. They are recording “Like a Rolling Stone”
with Bob Dylan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The studio manager is not
impressed but on playback Dylan insists he “Turn the organ up.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">Listen to these tracks again and
marvel at the power of serendipity and improvisation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trick is in the artist, the person who
had to make the final choices of the mix, hearing those chance occurrences and
to make use of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To seize the random
happening and make it part of the whole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #181818; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">“There
are people who prefer to say 'yes' and there are people who prefer to say 'no'.
Those who say 'yes' are rewarded by the adventures they have. Those who say
'no' are rewarded by the safety they attain.” <br />
― </span></span></i><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/154721.Keith_Johnstone"><b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #333333; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Keith
Johnstone</span></span></i></b></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #181818; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Improvisation
is the art of creating in the moment. Ex
tempore, unplanned, at this time, in the here and now. There is no forward planning or backward
assessment. The artist and his or her
audience live in this moment with no idea of what is about to happen or where
or how. Each moment is a surprise and the
reaction is new every time. But how do
we achieve that result? That state of
bliss that enables us to think or speak beyond ourselves?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">There
is a second meaning to improvisation, the idea of making do with whatever is at
hand. </span><i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> the process of devising a
solution to a requirement by making-do, despite absence of resources that might
be expected to produce a solution</span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";">
this meaning goes a great deal deeper.
Improvisation can be seen as the process of creation itself. it is the deliberate drawing together of two
otherwise unrelated ideas to create something new. We are</span><i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";">back to the idea of the child
playing in the muddy puddle oblivious to the world beyond. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">That
child playing in a puddle will make use of mud and twigs and leaves to create
dams and castles and so on. They will
improvise on the theme of mud in just such a way as an electrical engineer will
improvise connections with whatever materials may be to hand when needed. This idea of making do leads to some of the
fundamentals of improvisation. Use what
is to hand. Accept what you have to work
with and look to see what is possible within the limitations. The trick here seems to be able to think
iconically. In other words, to let one
thing or idea to stand for another thing.
In improvisation two levels of reality operate, the reality of thing
itself and what it stands for or could be.
It becomes a metaphor. And
through metaphor we see new possibilities and different connections.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So
if creativity, genius and inspiration are already there within us, is it
possible to hurry this process, to make it work for us, to turn it to our
advantage? Can we encourage the
discriminatory powers without becoming self-conscious and maybe
self-parodying? Can we indeed uncork the
bottle and let the genie of our unselfconscious creativity out upon the world?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";">In theatre, music or other performance arts
there can be rules for improvisation which draw the attention of the performer
to a channel leading to a new idea. The
Inspired artist will be able to spot these new channels and choose the ones
that lead to a fruitful outcome. The best improvised outcomes come from a
series where the choices are reduced either by necessity or by artificial
rules. Thus someone making an Improvised
Explosive device uses whatever is at hand while a performer will limit the
possibilities by enforcing some apparently artificial rules. For the performer, these artificially imposed
limitations are underpinned by the idea of acceptance. Whatever happens is good and must be incorporated
within the growing piece. Ideas cannot
be rejected and conscious discrimination is put on hold for a moment. This is
the creative act performed ex tempore.
At this time. In the here and now.
There is no forward planning or backward assessment. In an improvisation we live ex tempore:
outside time. And that applies just as much
to the audience as to the artist. They
have no idea what is to happen next or where or how. Each moment is a surprise and they react anew
every time something occurs.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">In
the end, the object is the same, it is to distract the conscious mind in order
to let the unconscious, inspired self go to work on the task in hand. We start
to think iconically and speak metaphorically.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Inspiration
can not only produce new ideas but also give us new approaches to established
and often dull practices. Done deliberately
and in a structured manner, these sort of improvisations can add to performance
by allowing in a more fluid, randomised element. I saw a Shakespeare play by a company that
were playing hidden impro games within the piece. The game is to attach a clothes peg to another
member of the cast on stage. The
performer, once they find the peg have to remove it and pass it on unseen.
Obviously the company must have superb discipline and the improvisation must be
entirely at the service of the piece. In
other words, no knowing winks or character drop outs. For the audience the play was perfectly acted
but there was a frisson about the performance that made the evening
electric. The impro game distracts the
actor's conscious mind from the wobbly set, the spider hanging from the
lighting bar, the member of the audience eating cheese and onion crisps. The actor exists in the moment. The text and
the delivery of it becomes at one with the subconscious where it allows a true
emotional engagement with the words as they are uttered.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">We
are all aware of that sort of trance that ensues when we become fully and
deeply engaged in an activity. Time is
suspended and we seem to have superhuman powers of creativity. The genie is at work within us and the breath
of God fills us so that the creative act pours from us like honey.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
improvised moment can direct us into that state by a set of games that we call
rituals. We all understand the form and intention and we have confidence that
every other participant is doing the same thing at the same time. The ritual
guides us and pulls us so that we lose all sense of self and become the
process, the conduit for divine inspiration.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">In
“The Archeology of Ritual” Evangelos Kyriakidis says that a ritual is a set
activity (or set of actions) that, to the outsider, seems irrational,
non-contiguous, or illogical. The term can be used also by the insider or
performer as an acknowledgement that this activity can be seen as such by the
uninitiated onlooker. In other words, it
includes and excludes at the same time. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Composer
Roddy Skeaping says "</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">With
improvisation, however, we are involved in a process of creation going on right
here and now, there is no one better or more informed about the emerging live m
creation than those who are making it happen through their creative and
critical faculties. In our own terminology we refer to this as ‘Live Creation’.
Because Live Creation is a group effort, a performance is a social event,
created through the merging of the sum total of the cultural background of all
who participate. Further to this, there is no need for any undue reverence
towards the thing created because it is designed to be enjoyed in the moment of
creation, not as an art-object to be stored, reproduced or sold. Each event is
therefore unique and you have to be there to appreciate it. Not there and you
miss it. The great thing about improvised art installations of the Live Creation
category is that if you like it you’ll come along and enter into the spirit of
it and if you don’t you’ll vote with your feet and stay away. This way we hope
to grow our audience through facilitating an event that is both fun and
meaningful”. </span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">PLATO</span></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmiNjHVj6eNImWxWp2chUxIZRQA0oy6dRP0IotUJgVUfB-WvoFbEqZPTPpgoCGnFBFUd0O8WxukQ1MlIfSLR6I4XVvvAtaq-vNgjXMo4XmanwiGvUwyaGwd9il1_XI9vP-ou54/s1600/Plato-raphael.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmiNjHVj6eNImWxWp2chUxIZRQA0oy6dRP0IotUJgVUfB-WvoFbEqZPTPpgoCGnFBFUd0O8WxukQ1MlIfSLR6I4XVvvAtaq-vNgjXMo4XmanwiGvUwyaGwd9il1_XI9vP-ou54/s640/Plato-raphael.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></i></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">So do we give up our creativity
to the Gods of chance entirely?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do we
merely find the finished piece rather than make it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is what I was banging on about in
Chapter 3 when I was talking about engagement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That is, engagement with the work we are making and with the world we
are making it in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We may not be able to
envision the final product before we start out but we know the general
direction we are taking to get there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
have closed it round with some parameters of what we would like to see and feel
at the end but the improvisation of the writing will carry us off into
unexpected directions and we must exercise our choice as to whether those new
circumstances are a complete dead end or an important waymark on where we want
to get.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We throw ourselves into the sea
and start swimming towards the horizon but the current will carry us at a
tangent from our expected course and we surface on an island that may have
interesting new monsters roaming on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This vague sense of direction that encompasses my work is usually
represented by a stage picture, a certain style or, as I call it, a taste of
what the finished piece will be like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Perhaps I could explain that better by saying that I can visualise the
gap in the cosmos that this piece will fill. It is almost a way of saying I
know what use it will be put to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me
the justification of a piece of art is that it fits neatly into space where
nothing else will fit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is what
brings joy to the creator and the watcher or listener. It is almost as though I
start with a Platonic ideal or form of what the piece will be but it is only
through the actions of creativity, genius, improvisation, outward intervention
and choice that I can bring the ideal into Substantial reality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In our writing we create a form of reality
that gives an echo of the ideal we have been aiming for.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But
the artwork is not yet finished when we have done with it. An artwork only exists as a piece of art when
it is seen by a viewer, a reader, a watcher and they have made a reaction to
it. The result of the choices the artist
has made should elicit a response in a viewer and it can only be called an
artwork when it has gained that response.
The response may not be entirely positive. It may be tedium or disgust. The viewer may be upset or unnerved but those
are still valid responses and they make the work a piece of art. One can argue that any made object that
elicits a response is an artwork. It may
be bad artwork but it is still an artwork.
</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Perhaps
it's not appropriate to try and divide artwork into good and bad but we are
conscious as a viewer that something is not right and it's worth trying to
explain that unhappy feeling we get. We
can divine bad art because the maker has been too self-conscious. It is too mannered, too well thought
out. The artist has not allowed for the
random inspiration that gives it life and attractiveness.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
viewer or audient is also making choices.
Apart from the immediate emotional response to the artwork there is the
matter of what angle to see it from, what part of the work to embrace first.
With a piece of music, the listener may elect to follow a particular line or to
concentrate on a particular part of the soundscape. Particular sounds will
resonate with memories or emotions that belong to that listener alone. In the
same way every artwork is infinitely different because of the artist’s choices
in making it, then every viewing will be different because of the myriad
changes in environment and the reactions of other viewers or listeners present,
the number of times it has been viewed already and so on.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Roderick
Skeaping’s music theatre company </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Le Collectif
International des Improvisateurs (Le Collectif</span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";">) encourages these different
audience viewpoints by encouraging the use of cameras and phones to record and
stream from the many points of view available to them. Their many responses are recorded and fed
back into the proceedings. A particular
audience member can thus influence the whole course of the event by drawing
attention to details completely unseen by other audience members and even the
performers. This can operate a sort of feedback loop where everyone can be
drawn into entirely new and different responses to what is occurring. Individual audience members are thus shaping
the event as it progresses and adding to the deterministic chaos as much as the
artist. This inherent chaos means that
we can never forecast the outcome of our performance. The outcome must necessarily be
uncontrollable and the process must take precedent over product. The playwright in creating the basis for a
piece of theatre will need to be the improvising creator but also making
precise choices as to what is to be part of the finished plan and what left
out. </span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-88861688265553536782016-05-17T14:57:00.000+01:002016-05-17T15:00:32.564+01:00Chapter 5 Belief Bias and Common Humanity - Meditations on Playwriting <h2>
<br /></h2>
<h2 style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
The Anarchic, Outlaw, Dirty-faced Art Form - </h2>
<h3 style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">Collaboration and Negotiation in Theatre</span></h3>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">“How many friends do you have?” barked
Skidmore down the telephone one evening.
Skidmore is a young chap I run into from time to time in bars and cafes.
He wears tight trousers and, I regret to say, his baseball cap back to front.
I’m not sure how many friends Skidmore has but he always seems to be hanging
out with a different group every time I meet him. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">I replied that, for me, at the last
count it was well over 600. Thank you
very much.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">“I don’t mean Facebook Friends, I mean
actual, flesh and blood face to face friends. Playwrights! That’s the trouble
with you old fogeys. You think the world
revolves around Facebook. If I didn’t
phone you from time to time you wouldn’t have any friends at all. You need to
get out more.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">I declined Skidmore’s invitation to
accompany him to a lap-dance club and, no doubt, to pick up the tab. I had been considering cutting Skidmore from
my social card (ie my Facebook Friends list) for some time. He always seemed to want to drag me off
somewhere or take part in some mad scheme.
I’m too old for all that now but I had a surreptitious glance through my
contacts list to see how many people I can actually call face to face friends. And that reminded me of a piece of research
by a professor Allen who discovered that the more often people meet each other
face to face, the more likely they are to phone each other. He came up with a graph which became known as
the Allen Curve demonstrating </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">that the closer we are to our peers physically
the more we will share communication and information with them. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We do not keep separate sets of people, some of which we
communicate in one medium and some by another. The more often we see someone
face-to-face, the more likely it is that we will telephone the person or
communicate in some other medium.</span></i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">" </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">And when I considered Skidmore’s
original broadside I suppose the answer might better be, “How many friends do
you think I need?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">In</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> his book that asks that very question (“</span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">How Many Friends Does One Person Need?”)</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Professor
</span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Robin </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Dunbar puts the number of others that we can comfortably interact
with at somewhere between 100 and 250, probably about 150. This is the size of the tribe or working
group. And surprisingly enough if I count family and
friends and theatre contacts that’s approximately the number of folk I do keep
up with. And Skidmore himself. So, for
once I fit into the “normal” category and, if he hadn’t run off to do whatever
it was he wanted to do with tonight’s gang I should have phoned Skidmore back
and told him.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But
the kind of friends I have and the places I go to socialise are changing.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">A
few years ago Robert D. Putnam in his book “Bowling Alone” advanced the theory
that in America at least, “Social capital” was being undermined by TV and video
games (“</span><span style="background: white; color: #252525;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American
Community”) And I do have a nagging feeling that there is something in what
Skidmore says. I do perceive a disengagement
from the larger social life as I might once have had. Maybe, Margaret Thatcher was right after all.
“There is no such thing as society.” Or maybe it has become a self-fulfilling
prophecy. Either way, for the health of
us all we need to audit our social capital.
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Actually,
on looking in to the matter a bit further I find that Putnam’s ideas are not
borne out by research. It seems that,
although the idea is very popular, he has been widely criticised as merely
rehearsing ideas that were common about the advent of radio in the 1930’s and
which even then were not supported by actual contemporary research. Contrary to his stated belief it appears that
Americans are still participating enthusiastically in various social
enterprises; it is just that those enterprises are different from the ones from
those of the original research. Indeed, I see this very situation where I live.
The old places of social interaction are becoming empty and closing down,
churches, pubs, working men’s clubs but many other social venues are taking
their places, coffee bars, night clubs.
Exactly the sort of places where Skidmore spends his time and his (or
other people’s) money. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #252525;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">However, we do seem to be losing out in the rough and tumble of face to
face discourse and reasoned argument that we might once have been fought out
within union meeting or political rallies.
Real conversation. And if we
follow the Allen Curve </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">the truth still remains that we are social beings and we need
physical contact to function effectively as human beings. Perhaps I should have
accepted Skidmore’s invitation after all and got into some sort of dialectic
with the lap dancers. Perhaps not. Nevertheless,
this whole area is </span><span style="background: white; color: #252525;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">part of the role that live theatre has given
away too easily and needs to regain. Live
theatre can be a forum for debate and argument as well as providing the ritual
experiences that we all crave and, for many, has been lost with the
disappearance of the religious service or political rally.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #252525;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Theatre is where we
can go to engage with real human beings doing real human things and thinking
real human thoughts. It is a human scale
activity engaged in by groups of people for people about people.</span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #252525;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">So, am I social animal or a stay-at-home curmudgeon? I need to know because, like it or not,
theatre must be one of the most socially focused activities undertaken by human
beings both in the production and the experience.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Let
me think.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Social
interaction is a neat strategy for survival and it begins with the birth of a
baby which is so utterly helpless that it requires complete devotion from its
parents. And if they are not available
then others will come to its aid and nurture it through its helpless few
years. This substitute parenting is not
unusual and the instinct is so strong, so built in, we see it many other
species and across species boundaries from elephants to cats and dogs if
Facebook is to be believed. At the same time, we cannot dismiss the fact that
in many species, including the higher apes, babies can be killed by an adult
male wanting to protect his own gene line. This doesn’t get as much airtime on
social network sites but it is still a fact, but in the main we still shudder
at this behaviour and instinctively consider nurturing to be the higher good.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Biologists
have suggested that this initial, nurturing, grooming phase of our lives where
we are so utterly dependent on others is the origin of our capacity for
language. The language that incorporates touch, smell, sound as well as words.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">In
a migrating herd of buffalo or antelope we can see social groupings numbering
in the thousands. This is a strategy for
protection from predators where the sick or wounded may be safe amongst the
crowd. At the same time complex social
behaviours can grow up as hunting strategies for packs of hyenas or wolves. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Hunting
is necessarily a social behaviour for homo sapiens because the human frame is
so much weaker and slower than its prey. And this strength and speed
differential probably gave us the capacity to develop language and abstract
thought to a high level. To survive we needed to outwit our prey. What we
couldn't do with individual physical strength alone, we needed to do together.
And these capacities for strategic, communal thinking led on to other sophisticated
behaviours such as farming and city building.
And here comes the next development, that of specialisation. One human being has not the time in its life
to master all the skills necessary for an urban lifestyle. Initially this meant that there would need to
be flint workers, metal workers, miners, archers as well as farmers and growers.
And now we depend on a complex web of bus drivers, bricklayers, electricians, computer
engineers, designers, playwrights and so on and so on to enable us to
live. Like it or not we are part of a
huge web of interactions and trades in ideas and things. So hunted or hunting,
social dependence and working together, seems to be the way to go. And as a species we can be both. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">In
an article in New Scientist, Dan Jones reasons that our main driving force is
that of argument. He quotes the work of
Mercier and Sperber who put forward the idea that our brains are designed to
argue a point of view, right or wrong.
The thing being that, through argument within a group we arrive at a
proper consensus for action.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So
that forum for discourse and debate is an essential part of our humanity. And that
leads us to a central mechanism of human interaction, that of negotiation and
persuasion. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Any
new parent will tell you that babies learn the art of negotiation from a very
early age. They enter a world in which relationships and networks are already
formed. Now, somehow, they have to worm
their way into this complex web and assert their own place within it. They have
to learn how to get their own way, to be fed when hungry or changed when
uncomfortable. At first a simple wail
and associated facial contortions will do the job but eventually parents and
carers will get wise to any overuse of this tactic. The babe then comes back with the smile and
the simper. This, too, works for a while
and then the novelty wears off that and so the Babe acquires a series of
tactics which develop into that of full blown strategy of language. And from then on the Individual has to spend
the rest of his or her life negotiating by means of threats, cajoling, smiles
and bribes to navigate their way through the web of society. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">There’s
an old story about an enthusiastic bridge player whose grandfather left him a
small rosewood box with a note saying that it contained the secret of winning
at bridge. Our man went on to become a
professional and could beat anyone in the world. Everywhere he went he placed the small box on
the table and when the going got tough he would open it and peer inside. When
he died a wealthy man his son in his turn opened the box to see what the secret
was. It contained a small slip of paper
which just said “Pass.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I
have no idea what the significance of that story is as I’ve never played bridge. I’ll take it up with Skidmore because I know
he likes to frequent casinos (Do they play bridge in casinos?). I take it that
it’s something vaguely to do with bargaining and negotiation. Some years ago I
took a university business management course and we were all given a handy
little plastic card with tips on sales negotiation. It’s proved really useful in all walks of
life and I’ve kept it in my wallet to refer to at any time just as the bridge
player did with his rosewood box. The
difference is though that my plastic card has got some really useful tactics on
it and how to reply to them. They include The Vice (“You’ll have to do better
than that.”) the reply being “exactly how much better?”, Salami slicing,
Knocking product, Split the Difference and The Nibble. The course was a long
time ago but if whoever came up with the list would like to come forward I’ll
credit them in future editions of this book.
I’ve used these tips in all sorts of ways over the years and they tend
to work. You could say that sales techniques reflect the way we interact in our
day to day lives as we buy and sell ideas.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">In
short we are thinking and aware, we are individuals. Our DNA is always proving us to be ourselves
and to manifest our differences. But, at the same time, we are by nature a
social species. And, as such, we can only operate as individuals within a
social framework. We may see that social
scaffolding as family, tribe, nation or species but it always draws us from
individual action to something more complex, considered, strategic. We need to work together to create ends that
are far bigger than one single idea.
Imagination has to be cranked up by our interactions. We argue and negotiate. We haggle and reason
and strike bargains. And eventually it
all turns into aspirations and ambitions.
Strategic planning comes as the result of specialised knowledge and
above all concerted action is the result of negotiations. All that manifested in and achieved by a
rich metaphor laden language. For a
playwright, this awareness is a treasure trove that can be plundered in the
creation and following of credible, sympathetic characters.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
<h4 style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
Here is a picture of Ned Kelly - leader of the notorious Kelly Gang</h4>
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<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Theatre itself is an anarchic, outlaw, dirty faced and, in its truest
sense, vulgar art-form. It belongs to no
one artist because it is not the work of one person. </span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Theatre is the coming together of a disreputable band of actors, designers,
makers of all descriptions, clever technicians, and above all, an
audience. Theatre is unique in its need for this great collaboration and
for its essential ephemerality. For a short while these many people with
all their skills come together and then it is over and gone and lost
forever. There may be film or video of the performance or the script may
be published but this is only a record not the moment itself. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">And
for me it is this sense of collaboration, of this coming together of a family
devoted to this one production, almost like a workshop manufacturing a great
machine, that fascinates and beguiles me to want to experience this process
over and over again even though it can be exhausting, annoying, frustrating and
can drive you sick and mad. And I have experienced pretty well every
role within that family. I have been an actor, director, stage hand,
electrician, writer so I know what it’s like to be an unnoticed cog in that
particular machine. And I have learnt something of the psychology
and management skill that is required to turn that unruly mob of talented
individuals into a coherent working group with a common aim and output of great
beauty and emotional force.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">At
various times, particular individuals or skills are in the ascendancy;
audiences may be drawn by the work of a particular actor, director, designer or
writer but the thing itself is still an overall collaboration in which every
single part contributes to the whole. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Here
is what composer Roderick Skeaping says about the collaborative effort that
goes into music making within his group </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Le
Collectif International des Improvisateurs:</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Within this
performance genre it is considered courteous to show acknowledgement of the
ideas of other performers – at the very least to listen to them, not that one
is obliged to take an interest. If they do interest you, it can lead to better
outcomes if you support the idea to magnify its impact and make it more
meaningful and powerful. Ownership or authorship is not an issue here – it’s
what everyone does with the idea that generates an exciting occurrence or not.
If you are trying to inject an idea of your own into a texture that doesn’t
already contain it, don’t be surprised or upset to have it rejected. A few
strong, supported ideas will be more effective than lots of separate ones all
competing for first place! If you really know your idea is great, still be
prepared to abandon it for the greater good if it doesn’t take. In
improvisation, a useful approach to new ideas is: Don’t block them, - rather
say an inner ‘Yes’ to them. If you can add something of your own to enrich
them, then this approach becomes ‘Yes...And’. If everyone is supporting
everyone else, you too will be very well supported and your performance will
yield a rich platter of food for thought and conversation – all part of the
social process that interests us ...."</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">And the most
shocking idea of all, In the world of ideas, using the rules and rituals of
performance Le Collectif's Live Creation means that we are able to create in
just such an analogous way to the uncertainty principle which allows A quantum
fluctuation that gives the temporary appearance of energetic particles out of
empty space. </span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">At
a conference recently I was interested to hear how one writer approaches this
collaborative effort. Chris is clearly someone of great skill and
imagination. He wrote a very successful serial for the television and has
just written the first new work for a regional playhouse for ten
years. He has a long background in theatre so he is worth listening
to. For him the collaborative process involved actually writing during the
rehearsals themselves. A couple of scenes would be run through with
the actors, discussions would ensue and then he would go home and rewrite
accordingly. The next day these two scenes would be rehearsed and
the next two scenes examined and subsequently rewritten. This is a
total collaboration in which the actors and the director have a direct input on
the writing process.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">For
me the process is different. I love the cut and thrust of the
rehearsal room and the lurching towards an understanding of the meaning or
working of the play. I respect the skills of the actors and director but I
expect them to respect my work accordingly. I claim the right to
maintain the artistic integrity of the piece, I have spent at least six months
creating these characters and their interactions, and I have mapped out the
emotional journey that I want the audience to take. I have chosen exactly the
order and structure of the story and the interactions that will demonstrate. For me, the crucial debate is between the
playwright and his or her audience. I believe it is important to understand
fully one’s role in a collaboration. I believe theatre works best when within a
collaboration respect is accorded equally. Cuts and edits and even reordering
may take place as the actors explore the piece and reach an interpretation of
it but, for me, there is no rewriting. The playwright should lead and
guide and should be prepared to take that role.
It is the writer who has made the map, after all.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">The audience
and the actors and other members of the playmaking team play a game
together. They collaborate on suspension
of disbelief, imagination and use of conventions to produce a social
interaction that is understandable and satisfying to all in the room. </span></i></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-2303217374059812102016-04-28T09:55:00.000+01:002016-04-28T09:55:49.198+01:00Chapter 4 Belief, Bias and Common Humanity - Meditations on playwriting
<br />
<h2 style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
I know it's all bollocks but... Suspension of Disbelief</h2>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;">"Perhaps
the conspiracy world is an updated version of ancient myths, where monsters and
the gods of Olympus and Valhalla have been replaced by aliens and the
Illuminati of Washington and Buckingham Palace." </span></i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;">Thom Burnett in
the Conspiracy Encyclopaedia using the German term Verschwörungsmythos meaning
"Conspiracy Myth"</span></b><span style="font-family: calibri;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">But
all this about conspiracy theories, hoaxes, scams, year zero and kittens is
still not the weirdest thing. Or even
the most frightening. It is, rather, the
casual, deliberate way we all as writers originate and promulgate these
untruths. We deliberately set out to mislead
the peoples of the world with lies and deceptions. We create myths and untruths
and spew them out willy nilly with no thought to the consequences of our irresponsible
and reckless behaviour. We collude with
the hoaxers with lies and deliberate sleight of the pen. We set out to create worlds that do not exist
and the more we can deceive our audiences, the closer we can approach
verisimilitude, the more gleeful we are.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">I
love Science Fiction and I love the way it can consider the what-ifs of the
world in a controlled and entertaining way.
But somehow you get the impression that there are people out there who
believe, not only that this could be the future but that it actually is the
present. So you get Star Trek fans
learning Klingon and, wait for it, people registering their religious beliefs
as Jedi or, maddest of all, Scientologist.
OK, if you're doing it in a Santa Claus sort of tongue in cheek way,
but, no, these folk are serious. I mean
Scientology is a pyramid selling scheme.
How can you worship a pyramid selling scheme?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">I
have first-hand knowledge of Scientology so I can explain my reaction. I was travelling by train down Italy and
happened to share a compartment with a young Swedish guy. He was affable and easy going but for some
reason he felt compelled to show me the contents of his suitcase. It was literally stuffed full of bank
notes. He happily explained how he had
sold everything he owned and was taking the cash to join a group in Corfu, the
then headquarters of the Scientology movement.
I knew nothing about Scientology and he persuaded me to meet up with him
on the island and he would show me round.
As it turned out the headquarters was a large rusting hulk moored in the
harbour. The acolytes, having handed
over all their worldly possessions were living and eating in communal
dormitories in fairly Spartan conditions.
Nothing strange there. There was
any number of weird cults living communal lives at that time. Except that the “Clears” the officers or
priests or whatever they were, seemed to have a high old time frequenting the
bars and taverns of the town and the founder of the cult, the science-fiction
writer L. Ron Hubbard was living further down the quayside in a large white
motor yacht draped with bikini-clad lovelies. Cognitive dissonance on the
grandest of grandiose scales. I declined the opportunity to throw in my lot
with them.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">And
the same applies to the Nigerian Princess scam and other hoaxes. Apparently the far-fetched nature of the
narrative is designed to eliminate all but the most gullible. The scammers want to weed out anyone who
might cause trouble but for the poor unfortunate who falls for the scheme they
will be drawn gradually into a web of intrigue.
Once you have parted with your details or even the thousand dollars the
Princess needs to pay bribes you are hooked and you will put aside your doubts
because you are now afraid of losing your first investment or even from fear
that you will be made to look stupid by not following up on the deal. The
deeper in we get, the more we earnestly believe and the harder it is for
rational thinking to apply.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;">But let’s not
judge these people too harshly; after all cognitive dissonance, the ability to
hold two or more entirely contradictory beliefs at once, is the basis of all
art. And theatre could not function
without it. Here we call it Suspension
of Disbelief.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;"> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_aaMxBW9D5APx4iDA7GbRfKiRThA6Tp1_AIsaseL7uaVTCdZ_IrFh6PN8YWF8uEZq_61Cjh1gluztorGn4g_AF_tGuvwFIItvzR-6n5LxEXjlyyL17TZC2KDNfhDySmgpKu_R/s1600/SamuelTaylorColeridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_aaMxBW9D5APx4iDA7GbRfKiRThA6Tp1_AIsaseL7uaVTCdZ_IrFh6PN8YWF8uEZq_61Cjh1gluztorGn4g_AF_tGuvwFIItvzR-6n5LxEXjlyyL17TZC2KDNfhDySmgpKu_R/s320/SamuelTaylorColeridge.jpg" width="257" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">I
was enjoying a programme called Mystery Maps on television some time ago (I do
occasionally get to watch TV) in which the presenter Ben Shephard mentioned the
role of "Suspension of disbelief" in people who see ghosts or witness
UFOs and suppose them to be aliens. Their readiness to believe is heightened by
being in a suitably spooky environment such as a dark wood and, having recently
seen a film about aliens, even the most innocent of sightings of a light will
be interpreted as something other worldly. In other words, they have been
primed to believe what they are about to experience and so they do. The term
"Suspension of disbelief" was coined by Samuel Taylor Coleridge in
1817 as a necessary condition for any narrative be it film, novel, play or even
just a nursery tale. When we engage with a narrative we have to disregard the
fact that we are actually only seeing flickering images on a screen or reading
some very abridged description of the world, or even that we are hearing
something utterly preposterous. In the theatre world suspension of
disbelief is our stock in trade; audience members are required to believe that
this is not a stage but the battlements of a Danish castle, that this person is
not an actor but is Hamlet Prince of Denmark, that he is experiencing genuine
emotions not that he is just reciting lines of text. Some people find
suspension of disbelief a tricky idea and for them the whole narrative
structure becomes a puzzle, but for the vast majority of people it is a
perfectly natural process. From my experience, I would go as far as to
say it is an inherent capacity in the human make up.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;">For some
reason most of us have been gifted with this strange ability to believe two
quite contradictory things at once. The
truth of what we see does not obliterate our deep held interior belief. In the same way we can be deceived by our
eyes when we know perfectly well that what we are seeing is an illusion.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: calibri;">
I was directing a quite serious version of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. It was
written by a very clever playwright, Jem Barnes and the recollection of what
happened during one particular scene still astonishes me to this day. In
the particular scene I am thinking of, Doctor Frankenstein is in his
laboratory. He has just animated the creature which is still lying on the
experiment table. Suddenly, there is a knock at the door. Not
wanting anyone to see this abomination, the Doctor covers the creature with a
sheet before going to open the door. It is his old friend Henry Clerval who
wants to know what Frankenstein is up to. Frankenstein is loath to tell
him. Eventually, in frustration, Clerval goes to the table and snatches
up the sheet but the creature has now vanished. At this point there was always
a gasp from the audience and after the show people would ask how the
disappearance was engineered.<br />
<br />
Here's how it worked. We were a small company of four actors and so
everyone had to play several parts. In order that these changes of character didn't
appear comical, they were done in full view of the audience. No clever lighting
effects, just actors changing roles. In this scene the same actor was
playing the creature and Clerval. He was lying on the table when
Frankenstein covered him with a sheet. There is a knock at the door. The actor
then stands up </span><i><span style="font-family: calibri;">in full view of the audience</span></i><span style="font-family: calibri;">, replaces the sheet and
walks round the set to enter from the other side as Clerval. It is then
he who crosses to the table and shows astonishment when there is nothing
there. The point is that the audience became so used to the convention of
role swapping that somehow they edited it out of their consciousness.
They genuinely had not seen what happened in front of their eyes. They had
immersed themselves in the story and their suspension of disbelief was total.<br />
<br />
In other words the audience had chosen to follow the artificial narrative and
disregard the patent, obvious truth that the actor had just walked from one
place to another. It seems that there is a parallel effect at work with
sightings of UFOs and ghosts. We see what we choose to see or what our
brain tells us to see at that time in that place. It is still a genuine
experience; we really have seen a ghost but the reality is that of a narrative
not of the measurable everyday world. And that’s enough of a reasonable
explanation as far as I'm concerned. And that's from someone who has seen a
ghost in a theatre. But that's another story altogether.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Have
you seen video of the way a hunter hunts on the savannahs of Africa? How he stops, sniffs the air, touches the
ground where his prey has passed. Using
his hands in delicate movements to trace the tracks. Making the shape of the
animal with his arms, thinking himself into the animal itself. Connecting with it so that even as the
creature gains ground and surges ahead, our hunter knows where it will have
gone, which way it will have turned in the scrub. He breathes as the animal
breathes. He attunes himself to the animal so that even out of sight, he knows
when the creature is flagging and wishes for the end. For the duration of the
hunt he enters an ecstatic state in which he becomes the quarry so much so
that, when, at last, the creature falls, the hunter mourns him as a brother,
strokes him, and thanks him for giving up his breath to him. The theatre of the hunt is no sciolous
posturing but a genuine transformation of the self into a second reality where
the outcome is that of winning food and providing life for the tribe for
another few days.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">There
is no leap of imagination required to see how this hunting theatre transfers to
a re-enactment of the hunt to those at home, and to an abstracted performance
ritual that demonstrates the technique to young hunters and welds the spirits
of the hunters and prey into one to guarantee future success. The theatre of the hunt shows us how our
theatre can be as central to the understanding of our lives how the adoption of
character needs to be as total and believed as that of the hunter and his prey.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Somehow
suspension of disbelief is a social act that enables us to share experiences
and even to have views in common. It’s a
sort of mechanism that enables us to pass information to each other in a short
hand way, automatically editing out the elements that are not germane to the
exposition. To leap from this place to that without having to explain the long
and tedious journey in between. At the
same time, we have an instinct to believe what we are told. Somebody arriving in our village in obvious
terror saying he is being chased by a pack of wolves is liable to be given the
benefit of the doubt unless we have time to check out his story. In this case we don’t. His terror communicates itself into the rest
of us and we all take appropriate action.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Where
this becomes interesting is when there is no pack of wolves and our man is
lying to us. If we know he is lying, we
can ignore him. But sometimes we can go
on acting as if there are wolves even when we know full well there are
not. We may do this because we want to
rehearse what we would do when the wolves come.
We may enjoy the sensation of fear and want to repeat it. We may be remembering a past event. It may have become a ritual we carry out on a
Sunday morning for fun. Whatever the
case we enjoy the game of “let’s pretend” so much so that it is built into our
makeup.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Later
on, I’ll talk about how this even affects the way we talk to each other and
actually find ourselves saying things we don’t in any way believe.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;">We conspire
with each other in following a narrative, setting aside our differences and
perceptions of the world around. We
agree to follow the lead of the narrator or story-teller. The narrator becomes a shamen with magic
powers. We put our trust in her and allow ourselves to follow her footsteps. </span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">So
the two conditions for suspension of disbelief are firstly a carefully crafted
lie, a wholly believable narrative perpetrated by the story-teller and secondly
a willingness of the watchers to participate.
They must see the need for this hoax and to dive into it wholeheartedly. As a great writer once said: “we should
strive for authenticity in emotion and credibility in performance.” And if they didn’t, they should have done.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">All
children play “Let’s pretend” and it’s quite clearly a way of learning about
the world and coming to terms with it through experiment and rehearsal. In children it’s called “play”. It can also be called “lying”. Apparently we
lose the ability to play as we get older but for most of us it’s still buried
there waiting for some excuse for expression.
Hence the rise of computer games, virtual reality creations and tipsy
dressing up nights. It’s not that we
actually lose the ability to pretend, rather that we acquire more and more ways
of blocking it out. It gets overtaken by the reality of day to day existence
and lost to the necessity of engaging with the world at work and only
occasionally creeping out when we spend precious minutes at our desk
daydreaming. For some people the urge to
play and pretend remains so strong that it becomes subverted into actual
conflict with the real world hence the conspiracy theories and so on. The
children’s play-lying can become pathological in adults. The necessity of
floating off to a less engaged level can fuel drink and drug escapes. Theatre
is the natural place to express this necessary desire for play to stop it
becoming pathological.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">If
reality is constructed in our brains from the electro-chemical messages
delivered from the senses, then belief in that constructed world grows as our
knowledge of it grows and reinforces what we perceive already. Thus as we get older it is more difficult to
dislodge belief. But what if something
occurs to challenge this world view?
Science is doing this all the time and bit by bit our reality shifts to
accommodate the new information. But
sometimes that new reality is too swift, too dramatic. We cannot handle that but perhaps we want
still to explore that new idea. So
suspension of disbelief comes into play.
We know and believe this world but we put it on hold temporarily whilst
we come to terms with the other. And for
many people that results in the situation exactly analogous to that of The
White Queen.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">Theatre
is the ultimate virtual reality simulation.
For this version of let’s pretend we have living and breathing actors
only a few feet away from us performing a fantasy version of the real world. It’s up to us as playwrights to give that
fantasy experience depth and consistency.
To lure the audience in to our vision of the world so completely that
they will willingly but thoughtfully journey with us to the end.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;">The
pre-condition for this suspension of disbelief is that we trust the
narrator. We trust that they have made
the journey before and that they know the twists and turns in the path that
would otherwise baulk us.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: calibri;">So
do we have any responsibility for the tricks we play on our unsuspecting
audiences? Does Ayn Rand have any
responsibility for the practical demise of Western democracy or L. Ron Hubbard
for the vast sums of money extracted from his unwitting followers? What responsibility do I have for the
nonsense I write? I suppose I could say
that I am unlikely ever to have the sort of mass world-wide following of these
two. My words are generally heard by
folks who have some idea of me and what I’m getting at. In other words, I could say that I have no
intention to defraud or misrepresent. I
want to generate discussion and debate with my world of what-ifs and perhapses
but not to send people out to form a new religion. But that’s a rather mealy mouthed way of
saying that I have no responsibility for my words once they have left my
computer screen. And after all I want a
complete immersion from my audiences. I
want them to come as close to inhabiting my world as their disbelief will allow
because that is how they will understand my ideas fully. I want them to go away with this possible
reality running through them as though they had actually experienced it. But I am also wanting them to wake from it as
though from a lucid dream and to be able to question it. One of the other differences is that both
Rand and Hubbard set out to extend their ideas beyond their fiction into the
real world. Hubbard was instrumental in
actually setting up his religion (whether he believed it himself is another
matter). Rand did believe in what she
wrote and actually promoted it as a real world philosophy. But then she was a very troubled person and
the confusion between reality and fiction became blurred in her own mind.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: calibri;">Writers have a
responsibility to embrace audiences and to challenge them at the same
time. And we should remember that the
power of theatre lies in its bringing people together rather than creating
divisions because the essence of theatre is in collaboration and negotiation. </span></i></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-26631483984995860642016-04-11T15:58:00.000+01:002016-04-26T11:41:11.402+01:00Chapter 3 Belief, Bias and Common Humanity <br />
<h2 style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="Engagement">Fairy stories,
Conspiracies and Cognitive Bias. The art
of Engagement </a></h2>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">When the Present has latched its postern
behind my tremulous stay,<br />
And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings,<br />
Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say,<br />
'He was a man who used to notice such things'?</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Thomas Hardy –
Afterwards</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">What I noticed today was
the sudden waft of resin as I walked under the pines. This isn't the gluey
chemical smell you might associate with washing up liquid or bathroom cleaner.
This was bigger, more complex, resonant with meaning. It conjured up two quite
different memories. The first was sitting at a small table in the almost pitch
black night of Corfu drinking a flask of piney retsina, "The beaded
bubbles winking at the brim." At the same time, I recall trudging through
silent northern pine forests quite alone and with a heavy yellow sky overhead
pregnant with snow. I hope you find something to notice today.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I like to notice things.
I like to pick up bits and bobs I notice in the world around and squirrel
them away until I can make something of them. I walk slow and try to listen and
look but I don’t think I’m quite so good at noticing things about myself. In the last
chapter I suggested that, in order for the playwright to be able to create an
authentic, visceral narrative, he or she needs to discover and adopt an
authentic voice and stance. In that case
it’s important for me to understand what it is I am and what drives me.
I need to know who I am, where I’ve come from and, most of all, exactly what
does all that museum of rubbish rattling about in my skull amount to. What are the beliefs and irrational parts of
my character? How do I twist things out of shape to represent them back to the
world? If I had any time for therapy I
guess I would be finding out about my cognitive biases. This is the idea that I am right because...
well, I believe I'm right. What I
believe is right and what you believe to the contrary is wrong. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Art, history, politics, psychology, pine trees, the sea, my
relationships and family they're all one thing. They make up my personality and
whatever I write, comedy, drama, pantomime, murder mystery, they all reveal who
I am in some small way. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span>
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">It's impossible to be
divorced from your work and, however you try to hide yourself, your work is a
transparent window into your inner self. So be prepared to be open about what
goes on inside and how it drives you. And the wilder your imaginative leaps and
far flung projections, the closer they will become to you. You may want to hide
behind your words but by the very act of writing, there you are, like it or
not, exposed for all the world to see, trousers round your metaphorical ankles.
</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So why is so much of my time spent on making up lies and
trying to pass them off as the truth?
And how on earth can I keep passing them off despite my pleas for
authenticity and realism? Why do I
choose one narrative over another in my record of my noticings? What narratives do other people employ and
are mine any more right than theirs?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Ok, let’s talk about the bogus stuff that’s out there. Let me think
about some of the narratives that others have created and which, I think need
challenging. Let me map out some of the ways
I think we are being diverted from the authentic, the plausible and the genuine
and led into a sham world where issues are beyond our grasp. Let me, for an
example, consider the plethora of conspiracy theories and hoaxes I see promoted
on the Internet. Why do we get so worked
up about them? These are flung about and
consumed with the same zeal as Coca Cola and Macdonalds or Dom Perignon and
Heston Blumental’s snail porage and with the same disregard to nutrition. And despite any evidence to the contrary,
conspiracy theorists will cling on to these ideas like drowning sailors to a
piece of driftwood or politicians to their scrap of power so that no-one can
prise their fingers therefrom. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I ask myself:
Why did NASA spend so much time and effort faking the moon landings when it
would have been twenty times simpler to have gone to the moon in the first
place? All these planes leaving trails
of poison across the sky, how do they fit in the passengers and luggage among
all the tanks of chemicals? </span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Why haven’t the all-powerful Illuminati fixed the pot-holes in my
street?</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">In
a complicated world of cock up and chaos, most conspiracy theories require far
too much in the way of organisational skill, money, resources and the bending
of the laws of physics to make any sense at all. They are simply too complicated to work
without someone somewhere spilling the beans or inadvertently revealing the
hidden truth. Similarly, with the hoaxes
and scams we’ve all been subject to. We
all know about a Nigerian Princess who would gladly give us all her treasure if
only we would send our bank details.
Interestingly, that particular hoax began long before email and the
internet was invented and first surfaced in the eighteenth century when the
poor soul so imprisoned in her country was Spanish and delivered her
impassioned plea by letter. But it has
continued to flourish and nets the perpetrators millions of pounds a year. We
all know that if something seems too good to be true then it generally is but
we fall headlong for these hoaxes and scams again and again. What is it that makes us so vulnerable to
them?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Conspiracists
can always point to the Black Knight as proof of their theories. In 1954, some years before anyone had the
capacity to send objects into orbit, newspapers reported that there were one or
two artificial satellites orbiting the earth.
These stories continued until 1960 when irrefutable proof in the shape
of a strange object was photographed. At
last, they thought, our beliefs are proved to be true.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNuUiSkPcwxdkQNXWf3qU4RUtTgv56FMF-XdUueaPrxGq3wJyfIiA2MvvpZpkttrgmJSW2BED_8GcPe93aOrIfpstK1JG85TgsstkwM-2Ah-37T7JkffWQ9gfZkw7W1xnM9Ip/s1600/Occam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNuUiSkPcwxdkQNXWf3qU4RUtTgv56FMF-XdUueaPrxGq3wJyfIiA2MvvpZpkttrgmJSW2BED_8GcPe93aOrIfpstK1JG85TgsstkwM-2Ah-37T7JkffWQ9gfZkw7W1xnM9Ip/s320/Occam.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I
think it’s something to do with my strong belief in a rational and trustable
world. Even if that rationale is
sometimes well hidden. You could
probably say that I am a sceptic of the first water. OK, a cynic, then. The law that the simplest
answer is usually the right one was dreamt up 700 years ago by a monk called
William from Occam or Ockham near Guildford.
Most conspiracies and hoaxes have to be built on a teetering foundation
of supposition, rumour and fear. We
suppose what we don’t know. We believe
there must be something more than just chance guiding the world otherwise why
are we so poor while others have so much wealth? In the world of ignorance
rumours abound and are fuelled by the ease of dissemination by social
media. If we never speak and debate face
to face, we believe. Most of all we live
in fear that whatever malevolent force is out there, be it the Devil or the
Government or the Illuminati and that they must necessarily mean us harm. In the
end, everything we are: that is, all our possessions and accumulated junk will
somehow be denied us and we will be left alone and exposed. Times journalist David Aaronovitch says “We
like the idea that there is an explanation for everything but we also like the
idea that there is a hidden explanation as well.” </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">We sup with the
Devil with the shortest spoon possible so that we can believe him to be our
friend and that he will pour his random acid of evil on someone else.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Cut
this all away as if with a razor and you will get something closer to the
truth. But still the conspiracy
theorists and the White Queens (</span><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">"Why,
sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before
breakfast.")</span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> will go on believing in a way the big books call
cognitive bias and suffering the consequent discomfort they refer to as
cognitive dissonance. And weirder still, the more the evidence is stacked
against the conspiracy the more the belief is reinforced and the blunter
Occam’s Razor becomes. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Let
me tell you a fairy story. There was
once a wicked witch in the West. Originally she was from the East where she had
been taught that everything that mattered could be weighed and measured and there
was no need for any of the airy fairy flim flam that so many mortals worried
about. But she had a rather beastly time in the East so she transported herself to the
West where she developed a grudge against the gooey, sticky parts of mortal
life that made her feel unhappy and she came to want to destroy everything that
could not be weighed and measured. She
thought that everybody else should shut themselves in a cupboard and just go
away. But nobody would listen to her silly ideas so she wrote all her
grievances in a little book. And then
she died and with her last breath she cursed the world and wished that all mortals
be turned to stone because in that way they could be weighed and measured. At
first, anybody who read her book laughed at it because it was very silly and
childish. (And very badly written.) But
one day some greedy and selfish crooks thought that they would do better out of
the world if greed and selfishness were the made the things to be, so they took
the wicked witch’s silly book and said to all their friends that this book had
magic powers and would change the world as they wanted. And gradually the book was passed around and,
because these men said that the book was true, it was believed and slowly,
slowly, the magic spell began to work and a dark shadow was unleashed upon the
whole world because everybody believed that this was true and, what’s more, how
things had to be. And faster and faster,
all the good things that were in people’s hearts like love and friendship
(because the wicked witch had said such things were unfeasibly gooey and sticky)
were replaced by selfishness and greed and hate and fear and everybody felt
unhappy but they didn’t know why. And
they began to blame everything that was good and speak out for the evil things
that were now rampaging through the world even though they were making
themselves more and more unhappy. And
one of these crooks whispered in the ear of another powerful witch from another
country and she said that everything that had gone before was now to be
forgotten and laughed at. And so it
was. The darkness descended on the world
like a thick choking fog. And people had
no way of defending themselves against it and they began to turn to stone
because a stone is easily weighed and measured.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">OK
not a very good fairy story but the best I can do. It’s here to illustrate the idea that ideas
can be passed around and believed despite any evidence to the contrary. This is called cognitive bias. We are all cognitively biased one way or
another. There are many things we
believe because… well, because we believe them.
And the unhappiness it causes when it clashes with the reality of what we see with our eyes is called cognitive dissonance.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">If
you haven’t guessed already, the originator of all this nonsense is Russian
born pulp fiction writer, Ayn Rand. In
Ayn Rand’s grindingly awful world stability would be achieved by having no
government and with all individuals concerned only with their own ends.
Altruism would be discounted and only self-interest allowed. What is
frightening is that her bonkers belief became widespread among people who
became big players in Silicon Valley and, eventually, though Alan Greenspan
right into the heart of US government where the ideas brought about the
collapse of two world economies; that of South east Asia in the nineteen
nineties and the whole western economy in 2008. We shudder at this nonsense,
these bizarre ideas of individual isolation one from another which have so
thoroughly soaked into contemporary society through the vectors of Ronald
Reagan and Margaret Thatcher the latter who famously said </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">“There is no such thing as
society”</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "calibri";">. Yes, it’s true, she did actually say that in an interview
with Women’s Own Magazine on 31</span><sup><span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> October 1987 and it was an idea
directly channelled from Rand. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">While
these policies derived some intellectual underpinning from economists such as </span><span style="background: white; font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Friedman and Hayek, it was essentially Rand’s philosophy that
was at the stony heart of the whole enterprise.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">And
when this philosophy was put into action it devolved power from governments to
the banks. And the banks had only one
end in view – accumulating money. It was an extraordinary display of open and
naked greed, a great slobbering banquet that continued for years until nearly
every cupboard and fridge was empty whilst the rest of us looked on in
horror. This was Ayn Rand’s philosophy
of self-interest written on a world scale.
And in the end it was the small person who was left with a monstrous
bill for the beanfeast which he or she was absolutely and utterly unable to
dispute. What’s more we are made to feel the guilty parties in this
farrago. We feel powerless before this
swelling tide. We cannot cope so we turn our faces to the wall, reach for the
remote control or pound, pound, pound mindlessly along the clifftop and in the
end we do nothing at all about it.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But,
hey! Hang about! You say.
Here you are banging on about not believing in conspiracy theories of the world and you’ve just propounded one
of the biggest. The virtual collapse of
Western Civilization brought about by a pulp fiction writer. Well, OK.
You, of course, have me banged to rights. How come I can believe in this and not the
one about faked moonlandings or whatever? I would defend myself by saying that
actually all of this is well known and documented. The people involved are open and have
discussed it. What they did with the
banks has been admitted to and the perpetrators speak freely about it with
little remorse. So this is a conspiracy
that is actually happening now and is a proud part of modern economics.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
corollary of this is The idea of Year Zero. The clock of history is reset to
begin anew and usually at a year and day impossibly long ago when the world was
apparently a simpler and better place. A time in which we conveniently overlook
the lack of medicine and hygiene and personal freedoms we take for granted
now. Year Zero is a reaction to the extreme Randists. It is a reaction of people who see no way to
influence the downward slide of the world into chaos. I see the concept of Year Zero in the
Christian Fundamentalists deep in the backwoods of the USA. I see it in the hardline Putin backwoodsmen
in Russia. But most of all I see it in
the Taliban in Northern Pakistan, the ISIS movement in the Middle East and in
Boko Haram in Nigeria and the surrounding states.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">This
is nothing new. We have seen it in the
past in the Killing Fields of Cambodia, we saw it in the Jones Sect in North
and Central America, we saw it in the French Revolution and onwards and
backwards throughout history. Maybe
there was more than a little taste of it in the hippy communes and back to
Mother Earth movements I was part of in the sixties. The whole edifice of the
Christian church itself is predicated on the fact that the world will end with
a Second Coming.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">And
we can see why the idea of year Zero is so attractive. If you are poor and dispossessed such that
you have nothing left then a return to the woods and fields seems not only
attractive but inevitable.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But
there is an additional feature of the idea of Year Zero that makes it more than
an amusing historical trope and that is the complete and utter disregard for
the sanctity of human life it produces.
I am not a sociologist or anthropologist but I perceive in these
millenarian tendencies something that seems to align the end of the present
world with the utter necessity of killing and killing again on a vast scale.
Why? Why should the end of one era and
the beginning of a new one require so much bloodletting? The folk who have inhabited the planet up to
now and their funny ways and habits and customs and ideas such as love and
sociability must be eliminated so the world can be cleansed and can begin
afresh somewhere in the thirteenth century. But if we Join all these movements
together, the millenarians and the privileged wealth grabbers somehow they all
blend one into another. We see an almost ritual requirement for ordinary people
to be crushed. Common humanity recoils from this blood lust but we cannot let
the common herd stand in the way of our truth, they say. This herd, merely cattle to be sacrificed to
the blood God.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Both
the Year Zero mob and the No Society isolationists have a common cause in the
suffocation of common human warmth, compassion and, dare I say it, love. I see
their common interest described in virtual reality games peddled to us by the
same forces that propagandise the poor, sick and generally Other. These dystopian
images of a future where the human race is strangled by hate and fear and the
only rule is that of the gun and the laser disintegrator.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">And
as I dig deeper into this morass I seem to see that what ties this all together and fuels its onward rampage
is this disengagement I was talking about earlier. Not only a disengagement from politics but
from humanity itself. All of these
phenomena that I've touched on have their roots in a distancing from, not only
the levers of power, but the actual machinery of common human existence. The
Conspiracy theorists, The Randists, the Scientologists, the Bankers, the
Rhapsodists, the Capitalists and other hoaxers and scammers. Who can tell them
apart? They see a world so maddened that
it can be driven for their own ends. And so they can disseminate their own
stories, the conspiracies, the year zero, the religions, the accumulation of
money - anything to give them some justification for their existence. Their stories spread. We desire an explanation for the entirely
unearned misfortunes that befall us. It seems somehow easier to believe a
complex lie than the simple truth. As Joseph Goebbels is often misquoted as
saying “</span><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">in the big lie
there is always a certain force of credibility; because the broad masses of a
nation are always more easily corrupted in the deeper strata of their emotional
nature than consciously or voluntarily”. In other words “The bigger the lie,
the easier it is to believe.” Thus the
welter of propaganda of the press and the internet is lapped up by people who
feel they simply do not have the time or the resources to cut through to the
truth. </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
stories become the narrative of a whole people and, as such, they become the
truth of the politicians, the spiritual leaders, the wealthy that they can
manipulate to maintain their status.
They have bamboozled us with their nonsense for too long. Let us all
remember this playwrights and poets alike, at least once a year on April 10</span><sup><span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup><span style="font-family: "calibri";">
William of Ockham’s official commemoration day.
</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">And just to set the
record straight about Black Knight : According to Martina Redpath of </span></i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armagh_Planetarium" title="Armagh Planetarium"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-decoration: none;">Armagh Planetarium</span></i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> and </span></i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Oberg" title="James Oberg"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-decoration: none;">James Oberg</span></i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">, it is more probable that the photographs are of a thermal
blanket that was confirmed as lost during an </span></i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Extra-vehicular_activity" title="Extra-vehicular activity"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-decoration: none;">EVA</span></i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">.
(a space walk) Redpath wrote:</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.95pt; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">"Black
Knight is a jumble of completely unrelated stories; reports of unusual science
observations, authors promoting fringe ideas, classified spy satellites and
people over-interpreting photos. These ingredients have chopped up, stirred
together and stewed on the internet to one rambling and inconsistent dollop of
myth."</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Disengagement
is, of course, a defence mechanism. We
all know that if we hide under the bedclothes with our head under a pillow it
will go away. Whatever it is. And sometimes it does. More often than not, like a bill or a bank
statement or a bad smell it won’t. I guess I should acknowledge my own weakness
here. I’m of the school that says “If you can do something about it, then do
it. Otherwise there’s no point in
worrying about it.” Which isn’t a
problem solver but it is a strategy for dealing with the ensuing panic. And if the thing is too big for any sort of
personal action, say it’s a terrorist attack or a long illness, then I join the
majority of you in laughing at it. Laughter undermines the pomposity of those who
have all the hare-brained answers. Hmm.
Laugh at the troublemakers but engage with them at the same time. A good trick if you can pull it off. But the
questions still remains, how do we get stuck into the world, how do we plug
ourselves back into a living breathing culture that needs us as much as we need
it? We have so little time, so few
resources.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I
tell myself I need to understand myself and what motivates me before I can
begin to understand anyone else and write about them with any sense of honesty. As playwrights it is important for us all to
be honest with ourselves and to know about ourselves. As a very clever man once said “Be your own
lamp. Seek no other refuge.” That doesn’t mean that we have to be in any
way even handed dealing with our characters.
That is for journalists. (Mind you whoever heard of an unbiased
journalist these days?) It is not for us to pontificate, proselytise or
propogandise but Playwrights are not journalists. We are not required to be balanced. In fact the more unbalanced we are, the more
impact we have. We need to challenge our audiences to watch and listen to our
characters and let them judge their actions.
As in cricket and football, the best part of the game is the arguments
in the bar at the end of the match.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
thing is that we need to be engaged, passionate about our subject. Whether we admire our characters or despise
them is irrelevant, we need to be engaged with them as they take this journey
through our imaginations while being detached enough to follow their doings
without hindrance.</span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">We must love our creations and listen to
what they are saying. We must find out
every single thing that it is possible to know. Fact or fiction, however much
we despise our characters we must believe their every word and report it
faithfully.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">When
I was commissioned to write about Thomas Hardy’s first wife, Emma I thought
that I would be dealing with someone silly and vapid and very neurotic. That’s what the biographies led me to believe,
anyway. But by the end I had completely
switched my opinion. She was no longer a
figure of fun rolling down the High Street in Dorchester on her bicycle, her
bloomers flapping in the wind like a barrage balloon. I came to admire and respect her and by
following her character through my play I came to see a reality that was far
more than the historical biographers allowed. I hope I was able to give Emma
some sort of redemption through my words.
But her redemption was of her own doing, demonstrated through the
character that grew as the play grew. All I had to do was to observe and
transcribe her progress. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
most boring sort of theatre for an audience is one where I bombard you with my
propaganda about the state of the world as I see it. I have learnt how quickly an audience will
switch off from that so while I am driven by my cognitive bias I must keep an
awareness of it and try to recognise when it is me speaking and not my
characters. If it’s my voice, speaking my thoughts then I shall scrub that
thoroughly. Plays occur through the speech and actions of characters. Those characters must be given the right to
roam freely. Some of them will utter
words completely at variance with my thoughts and beliefs. The point is not to tell you the audience
what to think but to offer a window on a situation where an audience can ponder
and debate. I acknowledge that you may
not think the same way that I do, you may well disagree with my views. That’s fine.
In fact that is a brilliant thing.
As an artist I will select a situation and characters whom will interact
within that. My selections will enable
you to see something of that situation as I see it but it is ultimately up to
you whether you agree with me or not. To be engaged doesn’t mean the playwright
has to be Serious with a capital S. I
have written comedies, pantomimes, murder mysteries and biographical pieces. I hope they are all entertaining in their own
way but I also hope that each one contains a few nuggets of truth about being
human mined from observation of the way the world works and how people work
within it. Writing plays, creating characters and situations is one of the best
ways I know for understanding people, their inner lives and the world as it is.
And whether you create serious dramas or pantomimes every word you write is a
mirror held up for you to peer into. I
hope I am engaged enough with my subject matter for characters and situations
to leap out at audiences and remain with them and bother them until they are in
the bar after the show at least.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So
does this all add up to an explanation of my own cognitive bias? When confronted by all this I am indeed,
definitely and wholeheartedly cognitively biased. What I believe so fervently is in the
inherent goodness and worthwhileness of every single human being on the planet.
I must be prepared to change and adapt
to new circumstances, new ideas. I do not
believe in the reality or even the concept of evil. The world is what it is and people in it are
what they are. Things go wrong when
people stop behaving in a caring, socially aware sort of way. The opposite of good is not evil, it is
apathy. The opposite of doing good is doing nothing. I have not spoken to
everybody on earth so I cannot possibly demonstrate this idea. It is merely a belief and I realise that it
conflicts with the beliefs of others and as such must be a pretty weird thought
in itself. And how can I defend my
cognitive bias when I can lay into that of the conspiracy theorists? Well, the test is simplicity, adherence to
factual evidence as far as I can observe and gather it and that fact that...
well, I am right.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">And
what I believe is that we could construct a world in which it’s possible for
the majority of people to become engaged with humanity again. To take notice of what’s going on and react
to it. Not hide away and wait for
someone else to do the worrying for them.
I feel I ought to use my skills as a writer to help find simple channels
to engage however and wherever people can, through science, through the arts,
through politics. The theatre is the
greatest tool for this process. It
alive, it is immediate. We see emotions and
thoughts played out within touching distance.
We can see the sweat on the actor’s brow. We can smell the sweat. And we playwrights
have this great sword in our hands and we should be prepared to wield for the
benefit of all. I believe that as playwrights,
we need to grasp our cognitive bias firmly and hug it ourselves until we are
proved to be utterly wrong. And even
then we can mark its existence and still play it like a trout on a line. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">To write a play
or compose a piece of music is to appear naked on the stage. However distant the style and subject might
appear to be, in the end it is you up there and if any part of the experience
needs to be authentic than that part needs to be you.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">We
need to convince directors, actors and producers to be bold and to give writers
the resources to be as brave as they can be.
If a writer is prepared to engage with their characters on stage in a
bizarre ritual of cruel truth-telling and thereby show up their own foibles and
weaknesses then they need to be supported by the arts establishment and given
the means to attract a whole new engaged audience.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So
I’m going to cling to my bit of galloping cognitive bias for the time being
and, agree with me or not, I hope you will trust me enough to stay with me for
the ride because the next chapter develops the real reason why I’m banging on
about cognitive bias and conspiracy so much.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-39615930184387894642016-03-30T17:04:00.000+01:002017-02-01T11:47:13.664+00:00Chapter 2 Belief, Bias and Common Humanity. Lies and more lies.<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="Authenticity"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><b>Reality?
Is there such a thing in the Age of Untruth?</b> </span></a><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Authenticity in
Narration</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">
<br />
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">It’s
all just stories - none of us knows the truth about anything. But stories are
good. They are what we tell ourselves to keep fear at bay, to make sense of our
lives, to see things as we want to see them so everything is skewed really. - <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Stephen Mangan The Times March 5th 2016.</b></span></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“There’s
always a story.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It’s all stories
really.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The sun coming up every day is a
story.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Everything’s got a story in it.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Change the story, change the world.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>- <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Terry
Pratchett – A Hat Full of Sky.</b></span></i></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUA1HL1N6iB5Z4Thb3KcspfzgeNn5-FbqpS6yhC5LIj71jxndOGiTEIiQoujv66rM109c7ttuuybqnIX0jX2epyTsPmUZbpzVUgJKhOiM-ZZZEQNjkJjwH7wwOhY3F-zwtnmQ/s1600/authentic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUA1HL1N6iB5Z4Thb3KcspfzgeNn5-FbqpS6yhC5LIj71jxndOGiTEIiQoujv66rM109c7ttuuybqnIX0jX2epyTsPmUZbpzVUgJKhOiM-ZZZEQNjkJjwH7wwOhY3F-zwtnmQ/s320/authentic.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;"><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Do you sometimes feel that you’ve turned up in
life just after the cop cars and the ambulances and the fire engines have just
disappeared round the corner, the smashed glass has been swept away and there is
nothing left to see? How much of life is lived just out of sight, just round
the corner?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It sometimes feels to me as
though I’m listening to the world through cotton wool, touching it with boxing
gloves.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>All I perceive is the shallow
and shaky and occasional fleeting moments of experience instead of those big,
defining events that everyone else seems to enjoy.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">I
guess that’s partly my fault.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>My young
friend Skidmore would sneer at me on his way to the casino or a day out bungee
jumping and say <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“You live your life
second hand.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What do you expect? You only
see the world through Facebook and Twitter, through mediated and filtered web
sites. If you’ve got<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>a problem with the
world, it’s your fault. You live in a bubble of shared opinion. You only see
the world through a tiny knothole of the rotting woodwork of your front door.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">And yes, all
sadly true, Skidders, Old Man.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>As a
writer I need to indulge in the reality of the world around and to provide an all-embracing
experience for my audiences.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I want to
record and comment on what it is like to be human.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I do it, not by an exact reproduction of the
world around, a one to one scale model, but by observing and adapting what I
see so that others may see my vision.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>To
agree or disagree as they see fit.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But
at all events I must understand and report with veracity.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What I need is for my audience to trust me,
to believe in the world, the ideas I put before them that they are willing to
accompany me on my journey and not keep noticing the hollows and blank spaces I
have been unable to fill. Where can I find the authentic, real and plausible in
this world of the fakery and sham?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">What is truth? said
jesting Pilate; and would not stay for an answer – </span></i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Francis Bacon</span></i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">“Anyway, we
don’t do Truth anymore.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Truth is so…
last year.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>says Skidmore warming in his
opinion. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">“What in God’s
name “do you even mean when you <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>ramble
on about authenticity and vomit up words <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>like “reality” or “plausibility”?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“Veracity?”<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>You make up stories.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>You’re a
professional liar.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What on earth do you
know about truth?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What right do you have
to criticise other people for not telling the Truth?” </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Good point. I’m
not a journalist.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I’m not out to record the
details of car crashes or bank robberies.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Not the events themselves at any rate but I do believe I’m trying to
capture an authentic human response to what’s going on in the world.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">I am, as I might
have said to Skidmore if he’s hung around to listen, an observer. Even if I
miss the car crash, somehow, I’ve got to observe the way people react to this sort
of event. I’ve got to sniff the air and see which way humanity is heading.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And having got some sense of what’s going on
I’ve then got to try to interpret and construct a narrative. Not necessarily
about the big events and occurrences but about the little details, the way
people react, how they change.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">I realise that
as an artist, and more particularly as a playwright, I’m wrestling with two
sorts of authenticity.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The authenticity
of my response to the world around.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>In
other words, trying to relay what I see with minimum bullshit.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But I’m also faced with the task of providing
an emotionally satisfying and gripping first-hand experience for my audiences
that will draw them in and cause them to be engaged in the way that I am.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Before I
write poetry or<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>fiction I need to
understand what truth is.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">“They’re all liars, cheats and fakes” says Skidmore.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“I wouldn’t vote for any of them”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>An all too familiar line and largely
accurate.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>What is worrying, moreover is
that these rogues and charlatans have learnt how to manipulate the press and
social media and have discovered that lying and cheating is just as efficacious
at moving opinion as a reasoned argument used to be.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But by abjuring from voting Skidmore has let
the liars and cheats off the hook.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>There
is no possibility of the world being any different.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Not all politicians are self-serving and
mendacious, but those who are will always have louder voices than those who are
not. </span><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">So, why is it when we
seek out people of authenticity to be our representatives in government, do we
almost always end up with the self-regarding, bullies, liars and cheats?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">The culture of celebrity on television, the celebration
of mountebanks by news media provide an ecology in which everyone is fake because
we expect nothing else. We have lost trust in politicians and people in
authority and thereby we have lost trust in humanity as a whole.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">People
who appear to be decent enough chaps in the pub we find are working for
multinational companies and banking corporations.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>They defend what they have to do by saying
“We are forced into a course of action by our shareholders.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We are legally obliged to consider the
interests of our investors first.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Those
at the bar have an uneasy feeling that this equates to “I was only following
orders.” And we all know where that led.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Not only are we uncomfortable with this, it seems to require a form of
doublethink way beyond mere hypocrisy.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Can we ever accept a pint from someone like this or trust them to drive our
kids to school?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Can I as a playwright do anything to
reverse that?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>How can I show a more
authentic view of humanity that would contribute in some small way to restoring
everyone’s faith in the essential goodness of human nature without compromising
the truth that people are, indeed, venal, grasping, selfish, prone to violence,
self-centred and so on and so forth?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">We give out medals for a single act of
physical prowess.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>How do we reward a
lifetime of caring?</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 13px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">"Everything
is relative. Stories are being made up all the time - there is no such thing as
the truth. You can see how that has filtered its way indirectly into
post-truth."<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">A.C. Grayling</b></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">At
the same time, this yearning for authentic experience drives the apparent
hunger for thrill laden activities and dangerous sports.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I’m convinced that’s one of the reasons that
Skidmore spends so much of his time in casinos and bars. Or dangling by his
feet from an elastic band over a waterfall. Our quotidian existence is so far
from feeling any sort of natural engagement with the world that we must seek
out experiences that are near to death. Or bankruptcy. We seek the outlandish,
the dangerous, the bitter.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But our
search for the authentic experience forces us closer and closer to the
inauthentic.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We yearn to hike through
authentic countryside, we long to eat authentic Mexican food.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And yet, the closer we get to them the less
authentic the experience.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>In reality the
countryside is cold wet and muddy and entirely mundane. It is a working
environment for those who live there and residents experience all sorts of
discomforts and disadvantages such as non-existent public transport, thirty
miles drives to the local hospital, intermittent phone and broadband and
village shops, schools and pubs that close down leaving ghost communities.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The countryside is, frankly, tedious. It is
no more than a factory floor with bushes. We do not want the authentic
countryside, we want convenient car parks and defined footpaths with the
brambles trimmed back.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We need easy
access to viewpoints where we can look at the scenery for a few moments and let
the dogs run after the sheep before driving back down to the authentic village
pub run by a chain from London where we can order Authentic Chipotle straight
from the freezer and microwave. We settle for a facsimile of the
authentic.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">But
there is a dissatisfaction in this clearly hollow view of the world.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It has permeated the whole of 21<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup>
century existence. And the more we are squeezed economically and socially, the
more we demand to satisfy this emptiness. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Those who live their lives
in extremis, who feel crushed by poverty or by a world they no longer feel part
of, will lash out.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>They will follow any
narrative that offers them a glimmer of hope.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>That narrative may be entirely fictitious.,<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It may be a fantasy offering a pot of fairy
gold at the end of a rainbow, but for those who have nothing it is everything.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">An
authentic experience is one validated by our senses.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Touch, taste, smell, hearing, sight.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The more senses that are involved the more
authentic an experience becomes. It can be brought into even sharper focus by
having others experience it with us.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>“Did you see that?” we ask and are happy is someone else witnessed it at
the same time as we did. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Afterwards, we construct
a narrative around the event so that it becomes a reality. It could be an
hilarious dinner table story or a heart-stopping drama.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We encompass it and draw delight from the
fact that we experienced something truthful at last. But it still doesn’t mean
that an experience is true.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Truth, as we
are constantly urged to believe, is conditional on context and frames of
reference.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It may be possible to say
that the authentic experience occurs within space – the here and now while the
narrative about it occurs within and over time.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>We stand on a clifftop and feel the wind in our face and hear the waves
crashing below and smell and taste the salt on the air.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It is the punch in the face, the kick on the
shins.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>This is a moment of
experience.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We need to be absolutely involved
in the moment for it to be more than something fleeting and ephemeral. It
requires total engagement. And later, the contemplation of that event, the
story of that moment, becomes the narrative truth.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We sit in front of a roaring fire and recall
that cold, the rain trickling down the back of our necks.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We may laugh about it whatever the shock and
discomfort we felt at the time.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">But
not everyone has the time or the conditioning to go and stand on a clifftop
gazing at the ocean waiting for some epiphany of the soul.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And not everyone has the capacity to capture
that moment in a form that can be transmitted to others. Sometimes we need an
intermediary, a playwright or other artist for instance, to draw our attention
to that experience and give us a reason for paying it attention.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>If we artists and writers do our job properly
we can weave a narrative that carries the audience through the emotional
landscape and gives a more accurate, fuller picture of humanity. Fiction or not.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">It’s important to be able to
understand both the ideas of authenticity of world view and authenticity of
experience in order for the playwright to construct a narrative by drawing
these two ways of experiencing a moment or an event together.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Having
observed the world and its people the playwright can construct a narrative
bringing together elements that would never meet in real life.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Their prime function is to ask the question
“What if…?” of the world and the people they observe.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>“What if Donald Trump did meet Nelson Mandela?”
“What is time travel is possible and we could go back to the beginning of
2016?”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The writer then applies their
Imagination.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The creative narrator
imagines themselves inside the mind of their character.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>She gives it life and credibility and tries
to examine what the possible outcome of the question is.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The writer inhabits the multiverse where all
outcomes are possible, providing that we apply the rules of humanity and human
nature.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">John
Le Carre, the eminent spy novelist makes a subtle distinction between
“authenticity” and “plausibility” meaning, I believe, that merely to present
our reality is not enough for a writer.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>The world we create may be as far removed from the world we see through
our window as we like; what is crucial is that we create a world that is so
dense and thought out that the reader or audience never needs to question its
veracity.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>In just such a way that the
work of great scenic designers and directors go unrecognised because they
create an all-encompassing<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>world on the
stage of such breadth that we never see round it. By creating such a total
world and guiding our audiences through it, we are providing a totally
immersive, authentic experience where we can explore issues and ideas that
might sit uneasily with our own small experience but which in some way we can
describe as True.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Music
doesn’t have to be beautiful all the time.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>It has to be True. It has to have meaning. It has to articulate
something that’s important to be said. -<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span></span></i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; margin: 0px;">Natalie Clein Cellist.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>BBC Front Row January 12<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> 2017</span></i></b></div>
</span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike><br /></strike></div>
Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-2459226720221676452016-03-21T17:20:00.000+00:002017-01-11T13:06:58.416+00:00 Chapter 1. Belief, bias and common humanity. Blood and Bones. Anger and Frustration.<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 39.3pt; text-indent: -18pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">For me, poetry
is the distillation of a moment. A play
is the distillation of a life.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkw7GCQGYHY-TcxEBbvTO4ZaGNVBr2e7aDX5Dhf-SYo5MDamn-QS8dW29SlYTa8-MuhQ9ZjaHTrvQR_v9ujzYmlrZiTwdf_L6-CZHd6xGEw66z51ijw1BfvTiUyFeQKAsxcVkF/s1600/cat8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="401" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkw7GCQGYHY-TcxEBbvTO4ZaGNVBr2e7aDX5Dhf-SYo5MDamn-QS8dW29SlYTa8-MuhQ9ZjaHTrvQR_v9ujzYmlrZiTwdf_L6-CZHd6xGEw66z51ijw1BfvTiUyFeQKAsxcVkF/s640/cat8.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">There's a lot of weird stuff about.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It's only to be expected, I suppose.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>With seven point odd billion individuals in the world dreaming their dreams and thinking their thoughts, a lot of stuff is bound to come out weird.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>How is it that someone can invent a rather gruesome bunch of chemicals, pump it up with carbon dioxide and persuade the rest of the world to drink it?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>How can they fry some pink animal derived mush, and persuade us to eat it as if it was food?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Perhaps the really weird thing here is how the rest of us let ourselves be persuaded that these things are good to eat and drink when we have much more palatable things on our kitchen shelves? Such as drain cleaner. And isn’t it interesting that the description I have just given could apply equally to a bottle of Dom Perignon as much as one of coca-cola and to a <span style="background: white; color: #252525; margin: 0px;">tartare aller-retour at Heston Blumental’s drive by establishment</span> as to a Macdonald’s burger<span style="background: white; color: #252525; margin: 0px;">?</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkw7GCQGYHY-TcxEBbvTO4ZaGNVBr2e7aDX5Dhf-SYo5MDamn-QS8dW29SlYTa8-MuhQ9ZjaHTrvQR_v9ujzYmlrZiTwdf_L6-CZHd6xGEw66z51ijw1BfvTiUyFeQKAsxcVkF/s1600/cat8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">We seem to be living in a world completely out of joint. Trump, Brexit, Putin.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>This is the age of irrationality; The Great Endarkenment. Reason and truth no longer have any meaning.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>This is the world of hyper reality where we convince ourselves that what we know perfectly well to be Untruth is in fact the Truth. The world is mad and we are all mad in it.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And I'm the worst of the lot. Because I'm a writer working in the world of theatre.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>A time waster at a useless piece of frippery that merely adds to the madness because it depends upon people pretending to be someone else uttering words they didn't think up in a stuffy black room that we're all kidding ourselves is the deck of a ship or a ballroom in eighteenth century Vienna or the surface of Mars.</span></div>
</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">
<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">So
how does this world madness manifest itself to me sitting at my desk
overlooking the bay and distracted by kittens in hats on Facebook? I see people
running along the clifftop earphones clamped to their ears completely cut off
and unaware of some of the most beautiful sights and sounds in the world. I see
it in conspiracy theories about chem. trails and faked moon landings on the
internet, in an obtuse willingness to believe the unbelievable and in an urge
to take unimportant things far too seriously while there is a disengagement
from the things that really are important. I see it in our cowering before self
aggrandising slobs who have muscle enough to transform gossip and down-right
lies into some sort of ugly narrative for a bleak future in which they become
the leaders and priests and only those few will have power to rape and pillage
the world with impunity and I ask why we do not rise up to take back the world
for ourselves? I see it in a totally bizarre world order that places
accumulation of stuff before concern for our neighbour. A world where some are
enabled and encouraged to accumulate more and more and more while others are
screwed down by a form of austerity not seen for a hundred and fifty years.
Where this pursuit of accumulation becomes as mindless as sucking on a mouth
ulcer and diverts us from the more interesting things we could be doing with the
one precious life we have been granted.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>And where this pursuit of greed is being promoted to us as a common good
in a relentless propaganda storm from those who already have more than enough.
Where what we once all owned is being snatched away and sold off to the highest
bidder so that we now have to pay some obscenely adipose feline for what is
ours by right while the majority of us sink further and further into poverty.
Where the whole fabric of our society is being deliberately ripped apart before
our uncomprehending eyes.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>And I ask
myself how does this all relate to our existence as a story-telling, metaphor
using species?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>How is it, that the very
thing that has made the human species rise up and achieve the possibility of a
rich and fulfilled life for us all has been subverted through advertising and
propaganda and downright lies into a strangulation of the soul to bring riches
beyond comprehension to a very few and misery to so many? </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">And
how is it that the people with the greatest influence in the world are the
cheap pulp fiction writers like L. Ron Hubbard who I saw with my own eyes
ripping off people in Corfu while he lounged on his motor yacht draped with
bikini clad lovelies and Ayn Rand whose laughable, totally daft ideas are yet
again echoing down the corridors of the White House and Wall Street and whose
books are being promoted to shelves of every Republican politician and
industrialist in America and, I bet, on many of the fifth formers at Slough
Grammar school.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Don’t get me wrong, it’s
not for me to quibble about the work of other writers.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We all need to earn a bob or two and I have
written a few pulpy pieces in my time and I do feel a warm glow when people say
“Your play made me think differently about the world.” Where it all goes tits up
is when this sort of fantasy becomes taken for a philosophy and people who
should know better take it as some sort of truth.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">When you have
barricaded the doors and shuttered the windows against the marauding lawless
mob and you sit in front of your smoky fire (You have stuffed up the chimney to
avoid grenade attacks) with your arsenal of assault rifles and machine pistols
What do you think about?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Who is your
friend?<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Because you will need a friend
to talk to at least.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Perhaps you could
find someone in another fortress who could trade you a parrot and you could
teach that to recite “There is no such thing as society” over and over as you
slowly starve to death. If you don't go mad first. </span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">And we still see
this facile fifth form fantasy ideology played out in contemporary politics
despite the obvious flaws in the thinking. We cannot, in our crowded world,
function alone.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The idea of retreating
to a small cabin in the woods with a pile of gold and a shotgun to hold the
rest of the world at bay would be laughable if it wasn’t so tragic.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">This
seeping disengagement has caused some of the great human catastrophes of the
twentieth century and on into our own, so why is it surprising that we writers
should feel we are the ones with a duty to attempt to take back the only thing
we still have in common: this language of poetry and metaphor and try and make
it a tool for exploring the human experience and place it in a cockpit of the
imagination where we can all use it to explore together what it is to be human
and how we go about our humanity? In this era of stuff and accumulation of stuff
and money for money’s sake and activity for activity’s sake where we yearn to
blot out the reality of what is happening in the world with utter mountains of
shit and we are so terrified of not having enough we go on accumulating and
doing mindlessly until it becomes a habit, a psychosis, it is up to artists to
try and cut through this fog of accumulation of junk and try to centre back on
people.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Individuals.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Not individuals against the rest of the
world- that nasty cut throat world of Ayn Rand or the individuals as mugs to be
preyed on that L. Ron Hubbard would have us believe in, but individuals as part
of the great interconnected network.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We
need to put the spotlight on those individuals and their struggles.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We can use the full force of our imaginations
to draw from what we know and place the evidence before our audiences.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We need to help people to speak to people
about their hopes and fears, aspirations and disappointments. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We ought to help give a voice to those who are
so trodden down by circumstance that they can only lash out in an unreasoned
blind fury We need to sweep away all the bullshit of spectacle and superficial
soap opera drama and try to explain to the world just what is going on.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>We need to use our skills and imaginations to
engage our audiences in new worlds of possibilities, new perspectives on this
one. Nobody else is going to do it for us.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>Not the newspapers or TV.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Not the
bizarre world of the internet. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Not even
the kittens.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Theatre is fantasy but it
is fantasy concerning the real world.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">If
we writers were as bold as Hubbard and Rand we might be able to help turn the
tide against a dreamt up fantasy world order to a more reasoned debate where we
seek evidence before we believe and try to accord respect and understanding to
our fellow human beings.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Not imposing
something that has no basis in the world as it is. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">And
where once we might have satirised and railed against corrupt and venal
governments and officials we now have to take on a great welling black cloud of
hate, mistrust, and what I can only describe as a miasma of evil which seems to
have no origin but which is suddenly pouring out as if from fissures and cracks
in the very normality we see every day and every minute of every day.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;"><span style="background: white; color: #252525; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicmLp0JFWLXe89K3K3x9mY_C9C6GZhVyWWQ5yd0XBv3gTd-khyphenhyphenh4OOFwtMaDcfvNuBXnczQ9E2vG1j4_kN_7zn1XBag6igK8xzoXUDOca2PrOApkhJ5jVWipoNnmG-S7n7ckWl/s1600/thunder-and-lightening.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicmLp0JFWLXe89K3K3x9mY_C9C6GZhVyWWQ5yd0XBv3gTd-khyphenhyphenh4OOFwtMaDcfvNuBXnczQ9E2vG1j4_kN_7zn1XBag6igK8xzoXUDOca2PrOApkhJ5jVWipoNnmG-S7n7ckWl/s640/thunder-and-lightening.jpg" title="Respect to whoever took this picture. Contact me to have it acknowledged or removed." width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">Yet
I see theatre reduced to an easy spectacle of acrobatics and effects. Somewhere
where individuals can be defined only by the issues they represent instead of
their inner immutable humanity. It is part of the distraction.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Playwriting has become reduced to the
production of endless ten minute pieces for dodgy competitions judged by those
who have no idea of what really constitutes theatre. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I see “Theatre makers” lauded who have never
had the opportunity to explore and understand the true power of theatre.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>The power of theatre that comes down to us in
a shaky wavering line from the Greeks of classical antiquity and before that
from a deep shamanistic desire to capture the world from our hunter-gatherer
forebears.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>A theatre that has
encompassed Shakepeare, Racine, Behn, Goethe, Ibsen, Chekov. A theatre of Blood
and Bones and sinew and Brains. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Big,
deep theatre that requires not only an understanding of the world it lives in
but, as importantly, a fundamental connection with the craft and skills of the
stage and how it is a fundamental coming together of writer, director,
technical staff, actor and audience.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>It
is us speaking together about the world. Theatre is power because it enables us
to know things that others do not know and to visit places no one else has been
and, because it is fleeting, that knowledge will be between us and no one else.
Paradoxically, the illusion of theatre is no illusion. The magic of the theatre
is real and enables us to experiment with the very fabric of reality that can
only be achieved by those who have committed themselves unequivocally to its
dark arts. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; margin: 0px;">As my friend Skidmore would say "If you care that much about it, why don't you get off your arses and do something."</span></div>
</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-21569988772785496342016-02-25T07:57:00.000+00:002016-02-25T07:57:38.117+00:00Cirque Berserk at the Peacock Theatre
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The last time I saw Martin Burton was forty years ago
standing in the High Street Winchester in his Zippo the Clown outfit banging an
eight inch nail up his nose. Since then
he has progressed to being an entrepreneur of circus of international standing who
can measure himself against the names of Smart, Chipperfield and Mills and if
not P.T. Barnum. Which may lead you to suppose he is all about flakey flim flam. But Martin lives and breathes circus and he
has devoted himself to it. He is one of the founders of the Academy of Circus
Arts and proud owner of Zippo’s Circus, one of the largest tenting circuses in the
country. Now he brings a version of the great tradition to the West End.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cirque Berserk is Unapologetic circus. High octane and relentlessly enjoyable. It is there to remind you, if you have
forgotten, just how good circus can be.
There is not a hint of the irony that accompanies some modern circus. There
is no bookending with any cod narrative or overblown showmanship, it stands on
its own as a marvellous thing that makes even the staidest old watcher’s heart
beat a little quicker. The whole
spectacle is put together with the craftsmanship of the West End stage allied
with the raw energy and power of a tenting circus. The music, costume and lighting are of the
highest order. The show brings genuine gasps of amazement and whoops of
pleasure.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Martin Burton can be justly proud of bringing together such
an internationally significant troupe who have developed into a family of
individuals who seem to revel in their skills and who delight in sharing them
with their audience. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you want to be philosophic about it, this was a show
about pure enjoyment and the pleasure of being alive and if that brings a
couple of hours of joy to the lives of those watching then that is all the
justification in the world.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-76791609174642405412015-12-28T17:05:00.002+00:002015-12-28T17:05:34.082+00:00New WebsiteI'll be keeping this blog going for longer pieces of writing but for up to keep up to date with what I'm doing look at my new website <a href="http://www.peterjohncooper.co.uk/">www.peterjohncooper.co.uk</a>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-23395569003322994252015-12-23T22:07:00.000+00:002015-12-23T22:07:02.205+00:00Sir Reginald's Christmas Carol
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sir Reginald’s
Christmas Carol</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You’ll want all day tomorrow, then?” thundered Sir Reginald
to his one legged tattooed manservant Phillips.
“So you can get up to some shady dealings with that cut throat crew you
roamed the seven seas with on the good ship Nancy? Spending all day in some shady dock side
tavern cooking up your villainies.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Phillips had despaired of ever getting Sir Reginald to
understand that he was given to seasickness and his previous trade had been as
a gentleman’s hairdresser in Poole and had never been to sea in his life Not
even as far as taking a trip round the Brownsea Island on a motor launch much
as less as a pirate.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Clump whirr clump whirr clump whirr. Phillips continued propelling his master’s
bath chair along the cliff top path beneath the pines on this darkening
Christmas Eve afternoon.</span><span><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 7.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> “”If it’s convenient I
would like this evening as well.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What! What!!
What!!!” Sir Reginald was now
incandescent with rage. “The whole of
Christmas Day and Christmas Eve. That’s
the sort of anarchy that brought about the downfall of the Empire. Good God man, have you absolutely no
principals at all. I never took a day off in my whole life. We need to fight
Communism in all its forms, especially Christmas.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Phillips, thought that for once in his life he would like to
be there when his nephews and nieces were opening their presents and his widowed
sister had put a great deal of pressure on him to abandon Sir Reginald for
once. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Perhaps if I am not there, you will not be reminded of Christmas. I may inadvertently whistle a festive tune.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Harrumph.” harrumphed Sir Reginald.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I will leave everything laid out for you. There is a fine stilton on the sideboard and
vintage port that I have already decanted.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At the mention of stilton Sir Reginald was somewhat
mollified. He could, perhaps manage an
evening and a day with a wheel of Stilton.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Very well. But it’ll
come off this week’s wages. I don’t want
to be paying to foster your criminal socialist lifestyle. If I had an ounce of sense I’d report you to
the customs and excise forthwith. I must
be going soft.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As they rounded a corner they came upon a party of small
children. Sir Reginald waved his stick
at them. But instead of fleeing in
disorder as they should have done they took the stick waving as some sort of
signal and they began to sing. Their
small piping voices filling the afternoon air.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Silent night, holy
night</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All is calm all is
bright</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When they had finished Sir Reginald pointed to one of the
urchins. His thin clothes were patched and ragged. “You. Yes, you boy. What have you got to be so
cheerful about?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Why Sir.” Piped the lad,”It’s Christmas Eve Sir. We all comes from the orphanage on the other
side of town. Matron can’t afford a
turkey nor nuffink but she says if we’re good today we can have spaghetti for
dinner tomorrow. Proper spaghetti out of
a tin. We are collecting for children
who are worse off than we are. Spare us
a penny, Sir.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“A penny! A
penny. Do you think I’m made of money?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Sorry Sir. We can
see you are old and crippled yourself on account of you aving to be pushed
about in a bath chair and so on so you must be deserving of charity yourself.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Of course I’m deserving.
I didn’t slave away all those years in the service of the king and
country to find myself in this state.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Well we even’t collected no money as yet but you can share
our bag of sweeties that Matron gave us before we come out.” And so saying a grubby hand holding a paper
bag was thrust under Sir Reginald’s nose.
And Sir Reginald, being Sir Reginald took two and popped them in his
mouth. The urchins tumbled past him and
made off down the path. He could hear
their voices calling to him in the afternoon air. “A Merry Christmas Sir.” “A
merry Christmas.”And “Proper spaghetti from a tin.” Sir Reginald grimaced. What was this he was sucking? “A humbug.
Bah. Christmas.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And just when he thought he was safe who should encounter on
the path but another bath chair going in the contrary direction. Sir Reginald’s heart sank. It was the well known suffragist Dame Celia
Vole and her constant companion Miss Pymm a tall angular female of indeterminate
years. She, surprisingly athletic
beneath her shapeless grey smock. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Out of my way.”
Yelled Sir Reginald. “My right of
way. Coming through.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Good afternoon, Sir Reginald. And a merry Christmas to you. Would you like to contribute to the fund for
poor refugees?” and Miss Pymm brandished
a tin at him.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Is that all Christmas has become? A penny here and a penny there? You’d bleed me dry if you could. Christmas has lost all true meaning and just
become an excuse for Money grabbing and
swindling. When will we be able to
return to the true spirit of Christmas and leave people like me alone?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Come come Sir Reginald.
You know the donation of a small gift would give you a feeling of warm
satisfaction.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“The only thing that would give me any satisfaction would be
loading all your refugees into a boat and throwing you in with them and setting
you off to sail to somewhere where you can’t bother me any more.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“It strikes me you have a great deal to learn about
Christmas. You must be eligible for a visit from the three spirits.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You Madam appear to have gone utterly ga-ga. I can’t make any sense out of your
communistic blathering.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“ You know, Dickens...
Christmas Carol...”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I haven’t got the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Surely even you...Three ghosts visit Scrooge on Christmas
Eve and teach him a valuable lesson about the season. ”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You mean like the damnable interfering Social Services. And
who pays for those? It’s that socialist
town council wasting my hard earned money.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Never mind.” Says
Dame Cecila Vole. “A Merry Christmas anyway.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Back at Grand Marine Court, Sir Reginald was preparing for
bed. He had on his long striped
nightshirt and his betasselled night cap.
He seemed almost gleeful as he scooped another plateful of the stilton
and poured himself a generous measure of the twinkling ruby port wine. Tonight there was no Phillips to look
disapprovingly at his over indulgence.
No, he was content. He settled back in his arm chair and dozed off. He was rudely shaken awake by a sudden
knocking at the door.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What the Dickens,” he muttered. Where was Phillips when you needed him? Nevertheless he turned the handle and there stood
a small boy. He looked suspiciously like
the orphan from the West Cliff. The lad was
holding a steaming bowl of spaghetti. “I
am the ghost of Christmas pasta.” He
twirled rapidly with his fork. “long pasta.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“A ghost eh?
Shouldn’t be allowed. I’ll have the pest control officer here in the
morning.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I have come to show you your past life and tell you where
you went wrong.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now the one thing Sir Reginald did not want shown him was
his past. There might be too many questions
about his tax affairs and how he came to be awarded quite so many medals and
honours for his services to India when the furthest East he ever got was
Walthamstow.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“No. Not interested
Sonny. Sling your hook” and he slammed
the door and he settled back in his armchair, his heart hammering with fear
that they might at last have caught up with him. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Barely had he closed his eyes when then there was another
knock on the door.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Now what.” He fumed leaping up. There stood the same urchin as before. “Persistent little devil aren’t you?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Please Sir I am the ghost of Christmas present.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You said just now you were the ghost of Christmas past.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Cutbacks Sir. I’m
doubling up tonight. Let me show you
what is happening in the Phillips household.”
And there they were apparently hovering in mid air in a modest council
flat in Poole. There propped against the
fireplace a wooden leg, sad and forlorn.
The children gathered round the table looking at the frugal meal set
before them. Their eyes were tear stained and their cheeks were hollow from their
weeping. “Poor Tiny Tim” said the woman, evidently the Phillips sister. They all started wailing anew. “Never mind children” said Phillips, “I’ll
buy you a new guinea pig when I can afford it.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The widow’s lips quivered “That skinflint Master of
yours. If he paid you enough we could
have guinea pig every Sunday.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Phillips, balancing on one leg raised his glass and said
“God bless us every one.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Damn his eyes, the ungrateful wretch. I’ll dock him two weeks wages for that.” and
he aimed a kick at the ghost of Christmas Present who left as quickly as he had
come.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As before he had barely closed his eyes when there came a
third knock.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Damn the damnable Communists. He bellowed and flung the door wide. “I suppose you’re the third apparition. Perhaps after you’ve done your party piece
you can leave me alone.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I see the future. A coffin
with your name on it. And people dancing. They are dancing on your grave.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“That’s excellent news.
I’m going to be buried at sea. If that’s all of you perhaps I can get a
proper night’s sleep.” And his sleep was indeed long and untroubled. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The next afternoon, when Phillips stumped back in he found
his master in surprisingly good spirits.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Did you have a good day, Sir?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“No I damn well, did not.
I had the most terrible dreams last night. I was visited by strange apparitions that
showed me scenes from my life in the past and future. I feel wretched today.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I’m sorry to hear that Sir.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At least what that old trout Vole said has come true. My dreams have taught me a valuable lesson.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh, may I enquire what that is?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Not to eat so much bloody cheese before I go to bed.”</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-32819983852757840412015-11-28T22:24:00.000+00:002015-11-28T22:25:50.669+00:00A Bottle of BassIts a cold, wet, windy November afternoon and the light is fading fast. I nip the top off the Bottle of Bass and pour an inch or two into a glass to sample it. It is bitter and smooth as cream. And suddenly, exactly like Proust and his madelaine I am transported back in time to a world long gone. Fifty years pass in a moment. It is another cold wet November afternoon. I am twelve or thirteen and I am a beater for a big shoot on the estate where we live. My hands are numb with cold and the rain is trickling down my collar but I am deliriously happy. Working on the shoot was a great event and with the other twenty or thirty people from the village I feel entirely grown up. There is no division between the older men and the boys. We are all paid the same (A good wedge for a day's work). We all get a brace of pheasants to take home and at dinner time (twelve o'clock) the back of one of the landrovers is opened and there are boxes of sandwiches (thick generous slices of chicken and ham) and crates of pale ale and brown ale. Somebody asks me what I prefer and, not really having tried either, I opt for the pale ale. Yes, that first taste, as bitter smooth as today. We sit on bales on the trailers that are our transport around the Hampshire woodlands and I think "This is the moment. This is it."<br />
<br />
Several lifetimes later, as a vegetarian and against bloodsports I couldn't be further removed from that day. But the bottle of Bass reminds me who I was and I am content with that.<br />
<br />
<br />Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-87953607879317448272015-10-22T14:14:00.001+01:002015-10-22T14:18:54.234+01:00An Acte for the Reliefe of the Poore (1601)<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I<em>n the late sixteenth and early seventeenth century a man
called Thomas St. Gubbington (Or St Gubbins or Hubbins) printed a series of
pamphlets in Ghent concerning the plight of the poor. Whether Queen Elizabeth l
was ever aware of these is debatable but her reign marked a series of laws that
provided for the relief of the poor and which became the foundation for the
welfare state that has continued as a proud part of English society four
hundred years later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These pamphlets
have all but disappeared but one or two can be found reproduced on the web.<o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A seer lay down and dreamed and in that dream he went into a
strange country and he saw things which were to come in that country.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He walked about the streets of a great city and he saw many
great buildings and storehouses and granaries that were full to
overflowing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And many men went about in
the streets of that place who had high office and who wore fine raiment and had
many servants. He saw also beggars that were lying in the dust and those with
raiment that was filthy and torn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
were many who were sick and who asked for alms but who were turned away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And he asked of one of those who went about in this city
whyfore was it that so many were in want when the granaries and storehouses
were full to overflowing. And he said:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The
men who are rich are few and those who are in want are many and if that which
is in the storehouses and granaries is shared with the poor then we shall have
to give up one portion of our riches and that would be intolerable.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the seer asked and said “Is it not your duty to bring
succour to those who are in want?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the rich man mocked the seer and said: “Whyfore should I
give up so much as one groat of my riches? For my riches have been bequeathed
to me by my father and my father’s father and are mine by right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the poor man want riches then he should
labour for them until the sweat runneth from his brow and so should his
children and their children’s children even unto the seventh generation and
they will not have money enough for them to be called rich because it is not
ordained so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Therefore must I keep my
wealth unto my bosom and not let one groat of it slip from me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the seer asked him: “Is there no charity in this city?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the rich man answered him saying: “Let he who wanteth of
charity provide the charity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want for
nothing therefore I need it not.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And again the seer asked him: “Is there no pity in this
land?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the rich man said: “Pity taketh away from the pride that
all men should feel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whyfore should I
deprive him of pride who has naught else?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the seer saw the rich man go in at his door and he saw a
poor man afflicted with sores seeking alms at the door in the manner of Lazarus
at the door of Dives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the rich man sayeth: “Let the poor man be turned away
from my door and let my servants beat him with sticks and with cudgels because
he is an abomination in my sight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I
shall stand in an high place and watch as the poor man is beaten until he
departeth and goeth privily into a lowly place and it shall bring me joy that
the poor man is seen no more<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And there shall be no balm for his hurts because the poor
man is as a clod under my sandal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the rich man continued to preach; “And all sick men
shall likewise be turned away as they have no money wherewith to pay. And they
shall lie down with the stones of the street for a pillow because they have
nowhere else for a shelter. The rich man shall be exalted and the poor man
shall be cast down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For to he that hath
will be given an hundredfold, yea a thousandfold and from the poor man will be
taken away the little he hath and shall be given unto the rich man even though
the rich man hath not deserved it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
those that are raised up shall be blessed and those that are cast down shall be
cursed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And those with nowhere to lay
their head shall be spat on and derided. And those seeking succour shall be
turned away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And those cursed with
demons will rent their garments and run naked as there is no succour for them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the laughter in high places will be loud
at the plight of those who are cast down and those that are exalted will drink
wine and hold council how to diminish those who toil by the sweat of their brow
and to take unto themselves more and more of the goodness of the land. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the rich men will appoint councillors who will speak
together with the money lenders and they will make laws so that all this will
come to pass and more things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the councillors shall decree that the widow be cast down
and her children and her children’s children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And if the widow hath so much as one room in the house more than the one
that is needed for her to lie in then it will be taxed even if the widow has no
money wherewith to pay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the taxes
shall be divided among the rich men and the widow shall be sent weeping from
her door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there shall be no more
alms for the poor or succour for sick so that the councillors may wash their
hands of them utterly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the seer saw that all this came to pass and a darkness
will come upon the land and the people of the land were cursed. And when he
awoke he was sore troubled as to what the dream could mean...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-38043798913642420382015-08-30T18:08:00.001+01:002015-08-30T18:09:03.651+01:00The Old School House Boscombe Blue Plaque CeremonyI originally wrote this in March 2012 as a contribution to the struggle to keep the Old School House Arts Centre in Boscombe from being demolished. The campaign was partially successful and today a blue plaque was installed to comemorate the work of Sir Percy Florence Shelley (son of the poet Percy Bysshe and Mary Shelley of ,Frankensttein, fame) who gave the building to the people of Boscombe. Percy Florence was a great supporter of the arts and of theatre in particular. I have updated the poem tofit a happier time.<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rededication<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Let us rededicate this building to the arts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Let us drive out the shadows of utilitarianism<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Of Mediocrity, of settling for second best<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Let us protest<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That this is a place of striving<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And creating<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And trying for something just out of reach<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Because that is what the arts are.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Let us rededicate this building to<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Photography<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To sculpture<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To painting<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To poetry<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To theatre<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To story telling<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To writing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To knitting<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To singing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To sewing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To dancing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To remembering<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">What happened here<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To thinking of the future<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To living in the now<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Art is choice because<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<i>“Choice defines and expresses individual identity</i>”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<i>What we choose to put in or leave out of an artwork<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<i>Is What we choose to put in or leave out of life</i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Art is movement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It is the spinning of the potter’s wheel<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It is the drawing of the bow across the strings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It is the dancer pirouetting in the sunset,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It is the painter’s brush<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And the mime artist’s hush.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And because it is movement<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It is of the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It is ephemeral and gone in an instant<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To live on as a memory <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And as a moment of change.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Let us rededicate it to children covered in paint<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That they may go home gloriously happy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ignoring their parents’ and carers’ tutting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To those who have no other voices<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That they may sing out loud and be heard<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To those who have no other family<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That this may be a place where they may sit and spin yarns<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Let us remember here<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That without arts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We cannot grasp the past <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And, by running our finger tips and lips over it,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Understand it and ourselves;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That without arts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We cannot draw the future and try to dance with it<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And understand what we and the world could be;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That without arts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We cannot mould the present<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And hold it to the light up so that we can say<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“That is good”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And when good people <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ask us whether<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We would rather have the arts or houses, or the NHS or Social
Services<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We must answer boldly<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We need both”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Because without arts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There will be no point in having the others <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Let us rededicate this building to the arts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Let us drive out the shadows of utilitarianism<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Of Mediocrity, of settling for second best<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Let us protest<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That this is a place of striving<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And creating<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And trying for something just out of reach<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Because that is what life is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-66920396232517894242015-08-12T17:07:00.003+01:002015-08-12T17:07:43.426+01:00Sir Reginald's Exciting Ride<div class="MsoNormal">
Sir Reginald is dozing in his bath chair in his garden. He regards it as his garden because he feels
he has the right to it. After all those
rates he has paid to those communists in the Council over the years he feels he
deserves it. As for the other hundred
thousand or so rate payers of the Borough they can have their own squalid
little parks and gardens if they want, as long as they don’t intrude on
his. Sir Reginald’s Panama is pulled
down over his eyes and all that can be seen of his face is an occasional drop
of sweat that runs along to one end or other of his well waxed moustaches and
falls onto the collar of his linen jacket.
Sir Reginald is uncomfortable in the heat and has already dispatched Phillips
his one legged manservant to Grand Marine Court for a whisky and a jug of iced
barley water several times that afternoon.
“Chotapeg”. He barks, just as they did in the heady hot afternoons of
the Raj. He dreams of the Raj and his service to it although his record shows
that he never managed to get any further East than Gravesend. And quite what he was doing in Gravesend he
draws a mental veil over. So he sits uncomfortably in the wicker bath chair and
dreams of what might have been.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All is not well with Sir Reginald. Apart from the heat and the intolerable
slowness of Phillips, there are interruptions from the wasps which he detests
from the bottom of his soul and from trippers whom he hates even more. “Idle
wretches,” he fumes from beneath the Panama. “Spineless sissies. Why aren’t they
at work?” Socialists who undoubtedly
spread margarine on their horrid jam sandwiches in their nasty little guest
houses with peeling wall-paper and squadrons of wasp cadavers festooning the
flypaper that hangs from the naked light bulb in the ceiling. He shudders.
Holidays? It would be kinder to
let them suffer in their stuffy grimy offices or coal mines or steel foundries
or whatever grim workplaces they inhabit all the other weeks of their appalling
socialist lives. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A tall man wearing a splendid beard and a turban wanders
along the cliffedge path. His wife
clings to his arm and giggles in mock horror at the precipice below. She wears a swirling pink sari. Sir Reginald harrumphs under his hat. To be fair to him, his harrumph is not
racially motivated. Sir Reginald is
scrupulously unbiased in his thinking about his fellow man. Black, white, pink, brown. They are all equally loathsome in his
sight. But there is something about this
elegant Sikh that makes him even more maudlin about the crumbling empire and
the what-might-have-been of the world. He feels that in an entirely just world
he would have been promoted to Viceroy or governor of some far-flung outpost at
least. Then there would have been no
namby pamby caving in to the nationalists. Under his guidance the Empire would
have continued to grow and flourish. The
colonies, Australia and Canada would have been reunited with their rightful
masters and America. Ah America a stupid
lost opportunity there. Raving mad George the Third let us all down. Just think
if not just half the world was coloured pink on the atlas but three quarters at
least. Most would gladly pay fealty to it. Us. Me. China, directionless and impoverished
would relish a proper management for their tea plantations and whatever else
they grew there, certainly and then the rest of Asia, so probably Russia would very
soon come knocking at the door. Africa
was ours by right anyway. We found it.
Oh and France. Stupid stupid King John
for letting France go. That would just leave Germany... Think of the medal tally at the Olympics!
Then there would be a search for a leader.
There could only be one. One with
vision. An Alexander the Great. He can hear the growing roar of the crowd as
he rides triumphantly in his chariot through the great capital cities of the
now great again Empire. He holds his
hand aloft to acknowledge the crowd’s acclamation. “Sir!
Sir!! Sir Reginald.” He is
galloping onwards, faster and faster.
The chariot wheels rumbling over the vast arenas and maidans where his
subjects are gathered in durbar. “Sir!
Sir!” In his reverie The Empire
is back! A sudden breeze lifts his Panama from his head and whirls it
away. A figure in a turban surrounded by
gaudy coloured silks is standing beside the path to one side of his chariot. A
figure with a brown face. “Out of my way
you Nincompoop. Can’t you see I am
conquering the world? What are you doing here? Mind out of the way.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“But Sir. Look where
you are headed”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And indeed, Sir Reginald’s bath chair is now headed down the
slope across the greensward towards the cliff edge.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Phillips!” In the space of a few seconds Sir Reginald’s
emotions has gone from maudlin sentimentality, to proud fantasy to abject
terror. Sir Reginald does not do emotion
very well. “Phillips you utter
dunderheaded, misbegotten, treacherous... fool.” Sir Reginald whimpers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phillips is stumping down the incline as fast as his wooden
leg will carry him. Chotapeg and jug carefully balanced on a silver salver. Clump,
clump, clump a clumpity clumpity clump. His tattooed arms reach out for the
bath chair handles but his good leg catches in a molehill and he cartwheels
away. He executes a perfect full twisting somersault with pike and lands on his
good leg and with the salver still carefully poised.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No time for your stupid circus stunts you abject wretch.”
roars Sir Reginald, his voice returning to its default setting. But by now the
chariot is well ahead of Phillips. Sir Reginald grimaces as he watches his doom
approaching. He tries to remember the prayers his Nanny taught him kneeling by
his bedside. “Dear God. I fervently believe, something. Something. Damn it, who was it who was meant
to be my saviour. Well he damn well
needs to get saving me. And quickly, Jesus
Christ, that was the fellow. Jesus
Christ Save Me!” At that moment a figure appears as if from nowhere. It is the gentleman with the turban. He catches the side of the bath chair which
rears up like a dinosaur from a swamp. “Careful, you fool, you’ll have me
over.” And indeed the bath chair is
skilfully manouevered off its wheels onto its side where it skids to a
stop. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You damn blithering idiotic nincompoops.” Whimpers Sir
Reginald to no one in particular.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Here let me examine you, old chap.” Says the gentleman in
the turban.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Unhand me sirrah.” Splutters Sir Reginald.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Now now. I am a
doctor. Let me see if anything is
broken.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“A doctor?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I have a practice in Harley Street. No.
Nothing broken.” He hands over his card.
“Come and see me when you’re next in town.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By now Phillips has arrived and he and the doctor set the
bath chair upright and help the occupant back in.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Blast you Phillips.
Trying to kill me again. This is
the end of it. You’re fired. Once and for all. Leaving the brake off.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But Phillips suddenly produces as if from nowhere a silver
salver with a glass on it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Chotapeg, Sir.” He says</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sir Reginald drinks the glass down in one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I should come and see me about your blood pressure. I have
consulting rooms in Bournemouth if you don’t travel. Drop in any time. I don’t like the colour of your face. Not good at all.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What! You don’t like
the colour of my face.” splutters Sir Reginald, “I have absolutely no
intention...” but the doctor has marched briskly away to take the arm of his
wife along the cliff path. Phillips begins to wheel his employer back up
towards Grand Marine Court. Sir Reginald’s voice fades into the hot afternoon
air.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Where’s my blasted panama?
If that’s damaged it’ll come out of your wages. A doctor indeed. Whatever will they think of next? I suppose it’s the heat brings them out. Like wasps.”</div>
Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-70954106549817348212015-07-15T09:06:00.003+01:002015-07-15T09:06:32.133+01:00Mars Trip Adviser<div class="MsoNormal">
When was the last time you got back from a holiday on Mars
and said “Never again. I should’ve taken more notice of Trip Advisor. One star is only just up from an asteroid. And the Grrzztz family would be
disappointed if we didn’t renew the booking before we catch the Earthside.”? I
mean Mars used to be the hot ticket, the place to go, the hip and happening
place in the Solar System when it was first opened up to Earthsiders. We all
wanted to be seen there lounging by the canals, see it before it was spoilt by
tourism. There were some great sights Olympus Mons rearing its frosted crest
against the indigo sky. That was before they put in ski lifts and built KFCs on
the flanks. The Gale crater with its uninterrupted views for ninety six miles
from rim to rim, before they built rows of hotel domes around the edge like a
nasty outbreak of genital warts. And the canals flowing deep and green and wide
across the red deserts before the mining waste and chocolate brown slurry
outflow. Bloody Martians, if they want
tourists they should look after their planet more. The visitor does not want to be reminded of
their home planet whilst they’re paying top dollar for the Red experience.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And what happened to the welcome at the Spaceport? Originally
all part of the experience. The groups
of dancers. Little green men jiggling their
strange assortment of green parts to their strange gonging music and then
hanging garlands of moss and algae round your neck. I mean, the moss had an unpleasant sliminess
to it and the smell of the algae. I say
little green men as a generic. God knows
if there was such a thing as a little green woman and how on earth you would
tell them apart if there were. Never mind, we knew the whole thing was
authentic and it seemed to please the little green creatures who were
performing the welcome. It isn’t like
that now. The streams of tourists are
met by a superficial standardised jiggle with the interesting bits covered by
aprons and boiler suits. And the
garlands are no more than cheap plastic representations. I suppose the only bit of authenticity is the
smell. The majority of the Martians don’t seem to be as excited as they once
were by us tourists and seem to sit or lounge around the spaceport as if they
owned the place. I mean, good God you
have to work to get your Trip Adviser stars. Since the mining companies found
those huge natural deposits of cocoa below the southern ice caps. They seem to
exist on chocolate based confectionary that they consume in those little
cafes... what do they call them? Mars
Bars? Getting above themselves, that’s
what I think.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, Mars is no longer what it once was as a destination so
those of us who write about such things have been exploring the less visited
parts of the Solar System. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a quick tour around the outer reaches of the Kuiper
belt and the minor planets I had really had enough. Take it from me Pluto is an entirely dismal place, nothing but frozen wilderness.
I mean once you’ve seen one methane lake or suffered one carbon dioxide
snowstorm then you’ve seen the lot. And
given that they’re plunged in darkness for billions of years at a time, the
night life is as dismal as any part of Yeovil on a wet Saturday. It just ain't worth the eighteen year round trip. And it’s all owned by Martians. What in God’s name are they doing out there?</div>
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No, I wanted a planet with a bit of pizzaz. A bit of get up go without having yet been
overwhelmed by overweight and over there Earthies. That’s why I’ve just got back from Venus.
Now, I’m not saying that it’s perfect.
Still a bit primitive but definitely an air of exclusivity. One seems to be above the rat race. In fact you are literally for the floating
hotels of Venus are great multicoloured blimps hanging in the dense
carbon-dioxide atmosphere far above the surface which is hot enough to melt
lead. And I mean that literally. I mean it is literally hot enough to melt
lead. The scientists say it is caused by
the sort of runaway greenhouse effect that we’re running into on earth. But, as with everything Earthside we are
centuries behind these pacemakers. The
blimp hotels are all owned and run by Earthsiders though so we have the best of
both worlds, clean towels and linen as well as the deliciously hot Venusian
atmosphere. These great ships are more
like enormous clouds, up to five miles across so plenty of room to avoid that
execrable family from Swindon with the kids who should have been put down for
school on Saturn at birth so that they would not be running up and down the
aisles of the shuttle demanding space cola.
Or preferably put down altogether.
God, if they are going to be the visitors of the future then this isn’t
going to last for long. Them or the
Martians. So book now for Venus. There
ain’t going to be anywhere else to go.</div>
Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11781656.post-42179386242138830862015-05-04T21:18:00.002+01:002015-05-05T11:07:43.577+01:00Thanks for the call but I'm sorry to say I won't be voting for you.<div class="MsoNormal">
We may not see eye to eye but we are together in this thing
and we have to rub along somehow because, I reckon we need each other. I mean, I know you are a big shot in the city
with a pink striped shirt and gold cufflinks and I’m only a poet with funny
glasses and a little beard . I know you’re
busy making a lot of money for the country, I appreciate that, I really
do. Maybe I’m there to do some of the
things that you haven’t got time for. Like
trying to get a handle on some of those big questions such as what are we all
doing here and why. But give me a couple of hours to notice the
waves and the wind and the grass blowing on the cliff-top the way you don’t
have time to do and I’ll happily share it with you in some sort of entertaining
poem. Money is of little interest to me
so I suppose I am just as much a misfit as you are in the general run of
things. Me, for my blindness to wealth,
you for your need to acquire more and more beyond satisfying any rational want.
I’ve always thought that must be a terrible affliction. I have a sort of inkling what it’s like
because I like to collect sea shells and fossils. Perhaps this mania for
collecting is some sort of substitute for the funny, knockabout, not-having-anything-much
childhood that makes people grow up to be useful and productive members of
society as my Mum would have put it. </div>
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I
had a wonderful life as a kid and it gave me the confidence to set off on my
own as a writer. You must have missed
out a lot. Bundled off to prep school at
the age of eight and being bullied by the bigger kids. I know that’s all part of life and it makes a
man of you but I bet sometimes you
wonder if things would have been just a little bit better if you’d had a more
normal life with a Mum and Dad. Or even
two Mums or Two Dads. Or if there was just someone who cared. Either way I feel sorry for what the lack of
human love must have done for you. No
wonder you don’t believe in society- you’ve never known it. Unless we talk about THAT society. That substitute for love you had to endure. You
know that dog eat dog group of rejected misfits like you where the guys thought
up ridiculous steel edged visions of the world based on your fifth form
economics and reading trashy American pulp fantasy novels by Ayn Rand and
drinking yourself stupid and throwing food around. </div>
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No, because, you see, we both belong to a community
that’s bigger than that and includes all the misfits and poets like you and me
but also all the shirkers and slackers and sick people and those who can’t cope
one way or another and those who weren’t blessed with the wits that you and I
have. And all the honest, decent folk
who try hard to support you by making the stuff you need and who buy and sell
and keep you in business. Maybe we
could liken it to a raft that we’re all clinging to and all doing our best to
get this thing to land somewhere. Or is
that a bit of a facile analogy? Never mind
that’s my problem, not yours. I’ll try
to think about a better one. </div>
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But I’m
afraid to say that I can’t vote for your harsh, Gradgrind ideology born out of
hate and despair in which your love of accumulation is the only way to a future
where we must retreat to our own cabin in the woods with a shotgun and a bottle
of tequila and keep the threatening hordes at bay. Maybe, if I see a bit less
of the naked greed thing and a bit more of the working together... The truth is,
we are all in this together and we need to work together not against each
other. And what you do, making money,
paying taxes does a brilliant job helping the needy, the sick and the disabled
and those who are escaping tyranny and poverty. Thanks for your efforts and I’ll
try to keep the poetry going in return.</div>
Peter John Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15285783156550263536noreply@blogger.com0