Strutting and fretting again

Image copyright Pamula Furness

I mentioned briefly on Monday that this evening I shall be involved in a performance. We're calling it a 'sharing', because that's what it is. We (that is, Deep Roots Tall Trees Dancetheatre) have been working on a piece we have devised ourselves under the guidance of our choreographer Neil Paris and we have invited friends and family to come and see what we've been up to all this time.

The project began in September when we visited a local redundant church. We explored the space (as we say in showbusiness), and devised movements and storylines based on the architecture and the history of the building. We also created some fictional characters. I was intrigued by the harmonium in the corner of the church and wondered if the person who played it realised that the church was going to close. One thing led to another and some of this woman's tale has been incorporated into the performance.

'Harmonium' will be performed at the Rooftop Arts Centre in Corby for one night only. I have written a little about the background to the project and an extended version of Catherine's story and popped it up as an e-booklet in the Amazon store here.

Tomorrow I shall be mostly lying in a darkened room.

Pollocks!

What is art? Yes, I know that's a big question, but do you have an answer?

When we were in Northumberland a few weeks ago, we happened upon The Gymnasium Gallery, which is part of Berwick Barracks. The signs outside were advertising 'Bethan Huws: Singing for the Sea', described as an 'Installation' a word that can be intriguing or terrifying, depending on your point of view.

The place was in almost complete darkness. We were the only people there, apart from a little man behind a desk who was wearing earplugs. 'Take a seat,' he said. It's just about to start.' We fumbled our way towards a sofa, which seemed the only option, and waited. The installation was a film made in 1993 featuring eight female Bulgarian singers performing traditional songs on Sugar Sands on the coast off the North Sea. I can't say we enjoyed it, but it was extraordinary, and we both kept mentioning it for the rest of the day. Was it art? Well, Berwick Visual Arts certainly thought so.

Last weekend we were at a more conventional art event, the private view evening of the Fellowship of  Professional & Amateur Artists Annual Art Exhibition held at a local museum, where the fare was not only more traditional, but also to my mind more accessible. If part of the function of art is to communicate, I'd say this wins hands down over wailing women (no disrespect intended).

Last night it was my turn to be the artist, when I went to a Paint Like Pollock event at Corby Rooftop Arts Centre. I was so far out of my comfort zone it was but a distant memory. Nevertheless, armed with a plastic pinny and a generous supply of paint, I went for it with gusto, and d'you know what? It was great fun!

The whole floor in the working area had been covered with plastic sheets and we had to take our shoes off, so we didn't paddle paint on to the unprotected carpet in the rest of the gallery. We had been instructed to take along a pair of old shoes to paint - I'd taken some silk wedding shoes I'd picked up at a charity shop  - and we put them on a canvas and just splattered away! The result of my efforts is pictured at the top of this post.

Then we had a go at painting shoes with a brush, in a more conventional style. These are mine:

And these are my feet by the end of the evening.

So, did I create a work of art?

CTST 7 July

I'm celebrating friends today.

It's funny how things work out. Number two son vacated the premises some weeks ago, but his bedroom and the front sitting room that was largely his space remain vacant, pending a decision on what to do with them (man cave vs woman sanctuary - you can fill in the gaps, I'm sure). Anyway, the decision has been made for us, because our good friend Deb is about to become temporarily homeless while her house sale/purchase goes through. How slow the wheels of property transactions turn. Rather than her having to rent somewhere for a couple of months she is going to move in with us, which will be lovely.

I had coffee and a catchup with a good yoga friend today. We meet in Melton Mowbray, which is halfway between her home and mine, and we always go to the same cafe, Off The Beaten Path, which serves the best cheese scones in the world.  Jeanette always sends me home with my head full of ideas, and today was no exception.

I met new friends and old at a gathering at 3P Publishing this week, too, where writers and wordsmiths of many styles (some published, some not) congregated for nibbles and the sharing of support and inspiration.

There's sure to be more friends about over the weekend, when I go to a big ole Ukulele Jam at Stanwick Lakes tomorrow and then a festival at Corby Rooftop Arts Centre on Sunday - or possibly a summer fair at Johnny's Happy Place (or maybe both). Aren't I lucky?

Have a good weekend, folks.

Want to join in and celebrate with us? Hop over to Lexa's blog here and sign up.