Showing posts with label Mask. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mask. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Final thoughts on the Art of Change-making

Experience of The Art of Change-making
A friend of mine introduced me to The Art of Hosting some years back. She explained many of the concepts. The one that stayed with me was "some of the best insights come from the conversations at the coffee station when people are taking time out during a session". I always thought this was funny. Here we are gathered in a place to discuss some important issues. We are in a structured setting, we are being facilitated, we are being given allotted time to talk, we are listening etc. But the biggest forward leaps happen when I am taking a break and having a chat! 

There are a few issues at play here. The first is around creating a space where conversations can happen. We bring people together who have various interests and their experience from their respective fields can help hone and develop another's. So simply putting people in the same room and giving them a chance to get to know each other can aid the path towards insights and future actions and collaborations.  

The second issue I see is focus. I've done a few creative writing workshops and one of the best ways of aiding creativity is to take away choices. "Write a poem" is one of the most daunting exercises anyone could hear. However brainstorm 20 words plus around an event that happened in your childhood, now use six of those in a six line poem. Bang - a few minutes later you have poem! Why does that work? "Write a poem" is panoramic - there are endless possibilities. Too many choices and we get overwhelmed. Narrow those down and, paradoxically, there is more freedom for expression. The same is true for creating a space for powerful conversations to happen. Another word for this might be focus. So if we have a clear question, we can have a clear focus. Too wide a parameter and it is daunting.

So to create a space for powerful conversations we need people and a focus. On a practical level it is good to adopt a user-led contract for working practises. And really that is it. 

I think for many of us who navigate, and still navigate,  traditional education we can get lost in what we think should happen. There should be someone at the top of the room leading. We should all face that way and appear to be listening. Day-dreaming and doodling are bad, that's what we were told in school anyway. Permission must be sought before we leave the room. Breaks are decided by the teacher. 

In a room full of people who are attracted to something like The Art of Change-making there is no need for control. These are all people working at the forefront of their field, trying their hardest to improve the lives of others, the environment, to bring awareness issues important to them, to fight to have quieter voices heard. They don't need to be controlled and told how to comport themselves. They just need a space and a focus. 

And if we create a space where people must behave like children in a school then those wonderful conversations at the coffee station wont happen. Why do we think we need to control outcomes? We are conditioned that way by most institutions we come into contact with. Control and Fear are two sides of the same coin. We control because we are afraid. 

I see this in my dealings with educational institutions and their lecturers/teachers. During my time in UCC we used a system called "Blackboard". It was a way for lecturers to communicate with their classes about lectures and assignments. One suggestions was that the lecture notes should go up before a lecture. That way we could read the lecture notes before, do any pre-reading that might help, and then spend the lecture time in conversation around the topics. Most lecturers refused to do this. Their argument "If you had the lecture notes why would you come to class?" Intrinsic in this is the fear that they would be come redundant, that no one would turn up. What we wanted was to have a richer educational life, not furiously taking notes about a brand new subject we had never met before. We wanted to have conversations, to be able to ask informed questions based on our research and fill the gaps in our knowledge. We wanted an education and the lecturers, for the most part, were afraid they would make themselves redundant by informing us about what would be coming up. 

My experience over the last few years
I have had a tendency to do everything to be polite, to not hurt others. I think about their needs, how will this effect them? And then because I am so worried about how what I feel might effect someone else I take NO action. I am virtually paralysed by my worries for others. Now this is very noble - that I care so much. But it is leaving a big and important part out of the equation. - My voice and my action. 

An Indian friend of mine listened to my travails over the last few years. He put it simply to me in terms he understood and explained it to me. 

Orla you are too obsessed with Karma - with the consequences of your actions. The other side of the coin to Karma is Dharma. One interpretation of Dharma is "Right Action" If you act from right intention, good Karma will follow

And that is why it is so important for people like me to speak and to take action. I believe that every community has the answer to its own challenges within it. We don't need NGOs, banks or politicians to come in and tell us how to fix things. We have the knowledge in our communityAnd that is why I think we need dissent as much as agreement. This is why I think we need to hear objections first and not a round of bobbing heads agreeing. It can be so easy to get carried away by an interesting proposal, yet the dissenter can have an insight or re-shape the proposal that will help us all to make better decisions. 

My experience in Amsterdam
One thing that happened for me in Amsterdam was finding the courage in me to speak up. That was a sweaty palmed, beating heart, trembling voiced, teary-eyed affair!  I had clarity, I did not want any more of what had gone before. 

I went to talk to Floris. I asked him how I can be a better leader? He said, "You take the first steps towards leadership when you say how you feel, like you did the other day". Leadership isn't about dictatorship, we just think it is because its how we see it in the world most commonly. It's about saying how you feel. It's about saying "I am not comfortable with X." 

When you say how you feel, its leadership. When I don't say how I feel, we miss out on valid voices. The very voices that might hold the key to a challenge we face. We don't need to apologise for our feelings, we don't need to premise everything with "Now this is only my opinion, but...". Everything that anyone says is a feeling or an opinion. It's not sacrosanct. 

The second thing Floris said to me about leadership was "Propose an alternative". In that moment I realised I had totally understood the concept of walk out but had totally missed the walking on bit.  I find it hard enough to speak my truth (what ever I believe that to be at any given moment) never mind to offer an alternative!

So what am I saying here? When I speak from the heart and from the position of Dharma, (right action) I am showing leadership. I can let Karma take care of itself.  If your opinion and someone else's are in conflict, that doesn't mean that you are in conflict personally, you just have a difference of opinion. And we need that. Or else we end up in big stadiums cheering on dictators! (Okay maybe not straight away, but fascism can creep in if we don't hear other voices)

Leading through vulnerability
I hide. I am sick a lot so not only do I hide but my body makes it hard for me to be visible. But I also hide away for fear of what people will think of me if they see me when I am not well. I met up with a friend when I was sick two weeks ago. This was quite an achievement for me as normally I just stay away from others. A week later we met again. The conversation went something like this;
Orla
 I wasn't feeling so good last week. 
Friend  
Yeah, you didn't seem yourself 
Orla
No that was me -  just a version of myself I don't let people see very much
Friend
(Laughing)
I know exactly what you mean

So this is me. I am in pain a lot. When I am in a lot of pain I don't want to go on living. I comfort myself by repeating the mantra "It will get better" I have to go through horrible procedures. I have difficulty getting out of bed some days due to physical and mental health reasons. I usually get out of bed. Some days I can't dress myself or do any of the basic tasks that most people take for granted. Some days I do a dance class. Yes, you might find that weird but you know what? That is your shit, not mine. This is my reality, some days are bad, some days are great. I cry a lot. People want to comfort me. Again that is their shit. They don't ask why, they assume it is because I am sad. It is often because I am really fucking grateful just to be in the room. I am happy - I am so happy I cry. 

My challenges for the future
  • To work from the heart and listen for when it whispers "Something isn't cool, Orla"
  • Lead through vulnerability. Show up and let people see other versions of myself
  • Believe in my voice and its validity
  • To propose alternatives
  • To help others to express their voice
  • To challenge ideas and stigma around disability
  • To remember what is my shit - and what is someone else's "Not my monkey, Not my circus"
  • Question everything 
  • Be irreverant

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Giving thanks to our teachers...

I'm just back from a week of Commedia Del'Arte for advanced players with Annie Ryan of Corn Exchange. This is my second time doing this training and like usual I went in terrified. I nearly didn't go until a friend of mine gave me a kick up the bum: "Go you crazy cow!" So I went. 

Training in "The Style" is highly technical. I feel like a plate spinner, by the time I feel like I'm getting the hang of one thing the other plates come crashing down to floor. Its a  practise that engages me on an holistic level. I use every bit of my physical and mental capacity. 

Annie leads us through a gentle yoga-based warm-up in the morning. "Grounding" is exactly what you need when you are about to step off into the unknown. "Who will I meet today?" Annie emphasises "the heart space". Last year when I heard this for the first time it struck a cord with me. As actor-artists we are always in battle with the negative sides of ego; "Me first/My reputation/I want to look my best". Or even more limiting; "I'm shit/I'll never make it/Why am I even dong this?" However if I can ground myself in the heart space I can feel compassion for myself,  for those around me and for the characters I create. This is a place of expansiveness where I can create and take risks. 

Annie finishes off the warm-up with a moment of gratefulness. Giving thanks always gets me. We give thanks to our teachers. I think of all those people over the years who have left their mark on me for good, and for bad. I think of the Hindi phrase, "When the student is ready the guru appears." I think how the roles of teacher/learner can switch in a moment,  how anyone can serve in the role guru in a particular circumstance. 

 I think of my teacher, Belinda, who mid-wifed me through my terror of being watched "The audience want you to do well, Orla". I think of the lesson from Keith Johnston through his book "Impro"; "You are not responsible for your imagination" and how this allowed me to drop down the well into the darkest parts of imagination without fear that it somehow reflected on me. I have too many great lessons to recount here. 

And whilst I am grateful for all these positive experiences, I am also grateful for the pain of harder lessons. The death of two of my young friends within three months of each other, taught me about the preciousness of my life. It made me appreciate the wind on my face and setting sun of each day as it drew to a close, something they would never experience again. I think of other losses that helped me understand that grief is a process and although the loss will be with me forever, it will not always be so all-pervading. 

The lines from The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel resonate


In the clearing stands a boxer 
And a fighter by his trade 
And he carries the reminders 
Of ev'ry glove that layed him down 
Or cut him till he cried out 
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving" 
But the fighter still remains 

At times I have wanted to cry out "I am leaving" too but the fighter in me still remains. I am grateful for every every glove that cut me and every hand that held mine. I am grateful to all my teachers.  


Sunday, December 22, 2013

My Mother's Brave Face - A Christmas Story

It's that time of year again. People are out being mean to each other, cutting each other off so they can take parking spaces. They are beeping their horns at articulated truck drivers who are delivering the supplies that the horn beepers want to buy. The streets and shops are busy with people trying to get presents for other people who, in turn, are also trying to get presents back for the other.

Yes its seems to me to be a bit of a pointless exercise. (Bah Humbug!!) In every culture, the world over, there are reciprocity traditions. They are there for a reason; to guard against poverty, to redistribute wealth, to bring people together as a community, to act as a kind of social insurance, etc. Our reciprocity festival seems to have been hijacked by card sellers and the like, but its all that we have.

What is Christmas for me? Well there is an image in my mind "The Ideal Christmas". Its all baubles and abundance. It's those advertisements by big brand companies that sell me on the idea of a perfect (and usually American) Christmas. It's Bing Crosby crooning "chestnuts roasting on an open fire".

However that's an illusion. For many Christmas can be the hardest time of the year. For some, pain comes in the form of attachment to the illusion of Christmas. They try to emulate the Christmas they have seen in the ads on a very tight budget. For others it might be the loneliness of Christmas; not being able to be with the ones they love through emigration, death or family feud.

For many Christmas is about sacrifice. It's about working late on Christmas eve even though you would prefer to be at home with your kids. It's about making do or anxiety over credit card bills due in January.

Today I want to honour the "Brave-Facers"; those who will wear masks in order to hide their pain this Christmas. Today I want to honour my mother.

My Mother's Brave Face

My grandmother died the night before Christmas Eve when I was 8 years old. We called her "Nana". She was a tiny, bell-shaped woman who we visited in Ranelagh in Dublin. She raised nine children in a two bedroom converted stable at the back of Ranelagh Road proper. Today these places have been converted into "yuppy" mews but back then they were pretty dire to live in. She was the only grandparent I ever met as the other's had all died long before I came into the world. That Christmas, she had been sick and in hospital. The hospital let her out just before Christmas and she had died shortly after that. 

My mother would have heard this terrible news on the eve of Christmas eve. And yet my little brother, who was five, and I had no idea. She continued on. Maybe she was quieter; maybe with all the furore around Christmas we didn't notice the difference in our Mammy. She would have gone through all the preparations on Christmas Eve; putting out carrots for Rudolph and sherry for Santy, trying to get us to go to sleep even though we were super excited. She would been there when we ripped opened our presents. She would have cooked all the meals. She probably watched a Christmas movie with us all after dinner. 

On Stephen's Day she sat us down in the kitchen. That was the day that extended family usually came over. My mammy told us that people wouldn't be calling that day. She sat there and told us she had some very sad news. "Nana died the night before Christmas Eve". We went straight into denial. "No, mammy, no". Finally one of us said "You are lying, Mammy" With that my mother did something I had never seen her do in all my eight years on the planet: she started crying. We hugged her. 

Some of this story is the work of my 33 year old imagination. I don't remember anything special about that Christmas up until the point where my mother broke the news of Nana's death. That is why I am telling this story. We didn't notice. My brother and I celebrated a Christmas like any other and we were able to do that because of my mother's brave face. 

Now as a 33 year old I can only imagine what it was like for her that Christmas. How did she manage to hide that pain she was going through? The loss of her mother! How did she maintain her composure and not break down? I have no idea. It must have taken a great amount of will to do so. And it must have taken a great deal of love too; love for us, love for our innocence, love of our smiles, love of our joy. With that love she allowed us one of the most amazing gifts; the magic and wonder of a child's Christmas. 

This Christmas

This Christmas many will wear masks. They wear them for different and individual reasons. Behind smiles and cheer, they mask suffering and sacrifice. This Christmas I'd like to honour those brave people. 

I'd like to make an appeal too; "Go Gently". Take it easy in the car park. Smile from the heart when you deal with the girl or guy behind the counter. Say "thank you" from that same place; that place of warmth, compassion and love. This Christmas thing is pretty imperfect but maybe we can make the most of it. Maybe we can give little gifts of genuine love to everyone we encounter this Christmas. For we do not know the battles they face. We do not know what lies beneath their mask. 

Monday, March 18, 2013

Keith Johnstone quote on Mask

We distrust spontaneity, and try to replace it with reason: the Mask was driven out of theatre in the same way that improvisation was driven out of music. Shakers have stopped shaking. Quakers don't shake anymore. Hypnotized people used to stagger about and tremble. Victorian mediums used to rampage about the room. Education itself might be seen as primarily an anti-trance activity.

From "Impro" by Keith Johnstone
From Masks and Trance, Section 3: Destroying the Mask

Friday, January 4, 2013

"The Child" Mask


"The Child" 

Character Half Mask

Finished - Titanium Buff Base


Clay Mould
The Child was inspired by a set of masks in the Actor's Space. These were a family of masks designed for a theatre performance. I worked with the baby and I wished to explore the possibility of creating a mask which might go somewhere towards a pre-teen age group. 

I started with the basic plaster of Paris mould of my face which I had made the winter before. To this I added quite a thick layer of clay. I covered in the eyes as an experiment as I had not worked that way before. This would mean I would cut the eyes once it had dried. 

I used a picture of my niece and my own face as a primary resource for the structure. I was also inspired by a monologue I had written the year before. It is written from the perspective of an eight year old boy. 

Paper Layer
Discoveries

It was difficult to cut the eyes afterwards. It was quite uncomfortable to wear and needed a lot of foam to make it comfortable. Next time I will experiment with building the mask around the eyes in the design and so leaving space in the eye sockets for the eyes. 

The thick layer of clay produces a mask which is far too high and so again is uncomfortable for this reason. I will experiment with a thinner layer of clay all over next time. 

The painting is a joy. I went through "the fear" with this mask. "The Fear" strikes at the beginning of every creative project for me. With  mask-making it begins again with the painting stage. 

The fear seems to subside a little once I start to get a decent amount of paint on to it.  Again the use of finger blending on the masks produces the best effect in my books. Maybe it is the effect of human touch on an inanimate object that breaths more life into it. Or maybe it is the slow methodical obsessiveness that appeals to me. 

I decided to paint on the eyebrows so this was a new challenge for me. Again the fear surfaced somewhat here too but I continued on. I referred to the picture of my niece as support here. Her soft childlike eyebrows are very different from mine so it really helped to take inspiration from nature.