Friday, 12 October 2012
"Gary Winters and Gregg Whelan say the idea for The Boat Project first emerged during a cycle of performances called The Days Of The Sledgehammer Have Gone (1999-2005), in which they had explored the human body’s connections with water, and its intimate imbrication in weather systems and the hydrological cycle. In material, poetic and comic ways, these performances activated the body’s own meteorology of sweat and tears and playfully merged them in circulatory exchange with the circuits and flows of river, sea, cloud and rain. In related ways, a boat casts the body into a dynamic relational matrix of materially active elements, energies and rhythms and invites it to improvise: wave, tide, current, wind, wood, salt, sound, weather, sky". (From the introduction to David Williams (ed.), The Lone Twin Boat Project, Chiquita Books, 2012)
In the wake of a sail on Lone Twin's Collective Spirit yesterday, with Olympic yachtsman Mark Covell at the helm, today my body still hums with sensations. In seas off Hayling Island, with the wind gusting to 20 knots, we passed through intermittent bursts of rain and sun. At speed, riding the surf, the boat itself 'sings' a particular tone, an audible vibratory hum of its own.
On water the gravitied mass of the boat flies, it becomes all lightness and movement. Its weight is translated.
I was intrigued by how sensitively Mark reads with his peripheral vision what's at play, in particular the wind, deciphering its imminent arrival and implications on the sea's surface, its energetic trajectories. Also his reading of waves, the impact of patches of sunlight on wind ('puff'), the lightness of touch on the tiller.
Sailing, one feels part of something much bigger than oneself. Dynamically transforming systems, processes, agencies, unpredictabilities. To sail is a dance of relations, response-ability and im/balance, a choreography in which one's body is all eyes and ears.
Despite my clumsiness at trying to tie a reef knot (some lingering memory about a tree, a bunny and a hole - but no idea how to tell that story with a rope), it's a while since I felt so awake.
Friday, 24 August 2012
Saturday, 11 August 2012
Thursday, 7 June 2012
You know, the village cricket film. It's lovely. I saw it on YouTube. (49-51 secs.)
Fine bit of eye acting on your part, it's brilliant.
Oh good. Blink and you'll miss it.
I thought you stole the show!
Most of me is on the cutting room floor, as they say. He was here for hours.
It's a nice film, really well made.
Yes he's very good. Very professional.
Yes, you can tell. We both really liked it ... I'm in a couple of performances in coming weeks, weirdly. First one's on the main stage at the Barbican next weekend. Quite daunting.
Oh, what's that?
It's a Pina Bausch performance.
Pina Bausch. You know, you sent me a cutting once saying, 'This is the sort of thing you'd like'. German choreographer, one of my favorite artists ever, really. She died a couple of years ago.
Oh. B.A.U ...
... S.C.H. Bausch.
Thought so. I'll look her up. Do you have to dance?
Not really. The dancers dance, and do all sorts of things; they're astonishing. I'm in a kind of chorus of men, twenty of us. Extras, really. An odd mixed bunch. We do bits and pieces. I get my shirt off and iron it. I crawl. I polish my shoes ...
You crawl ...
Yes, I love that bit. It's very immersive.
It's a huge event, Dad. There's forty something people in it. It's part of a cycle of ten performances, all made by the Bausch company in different cities around the world. Santiago, Rome, Japan, India, Palermo - this one was first made in Lost Angeles, it's sort of a response to California. She was my favorite choreographer, beautiful. It's extraordinary to see them at work. They're super nice.
Oh good. What's it called?
'Nur Du', 'only you'.
N.U.R. new word D.U: it means 'only you' in German.
Oh yes. 'Nur Du'.
It's part of the programme of cultural events for the Olympics.
Ah, the Cultural Olympiad. What do they call this kind of thing - is it dance theatre?
Yes, exactly. I guess Pina Bausch was the core figure in dance theatre in Europe. 'Tanz theater'. It's a fantastic thing to do, I'm really excited. Just have to make sure I don't collide with some long-limbed dancer in full flight. Or fall off the front of the stage.
No, you don't want to do that.
There's a dangerous drop at the front lip. And it's quite dark. It would make for a spectacular one-off performance, a dive into the lap of someone in the front row.
What do you mean, you crawl? Is there a story?
Not a story as such, it's a sequence of images really. Some of it's like Surrealist painting, maybe. The crawling happens in front of these giant sequoia trees, there's a kind of forest onstage. All of us crawl - the people in the chorus, most of the Bausch dancers, in suits or frocks - very slowly through the space, with our heads down, while three or so of the dancers dance. There's music. It's like a dream image ...
Oh. Do you have to rehearse?
Yes. Yes, of course.
And do you get paid?
Yes, I do, it's a proper performance. They're really well known, she's probably one of the most famous choreographers of the past 30 years or so. All sorts of people will be in the audience, she has serious fans: Alan Rickman, Wim Wenders ...
... you know, the director of 'Paris Texas'. Fiona Shaw, Antony Gormley.
Antony Gormley. Oh.
I don't do much, probably 15 to 20 minutes out of three hours - it's a bit blink and you'll miss it too - but I'm really chuffed to be involved.
Oh good. I'll look her up.
And then I'm supposed to be in another performance over the summer, at the Tate. It's a piece made by a young guy called Tino Sehgal.
Tina Seagull. Never heard of her.
Him. Tino. S.E.H.G.A.L.
... G.A.L. He's half German.
You know the big entrance hall, the giant space on the way in to Tate Modern?
Yes, I've been there.
Well they've had a series of large scale commissions over the years for that space. Called the Unilever Commissions. You know, that guy who created the weather system, with a giant sun and clouds ...
Anyway, it's part of that series. Tino Sehgal has the commission to make something that runs throughout the summer. Starts in July. Three months.
And what do you have to do?
Well I'm not exactly sure as yet. I'll found out more next week, there's some meetings, I'll let you know. But he's a conceptual artist. He doesn't make things, objects; he makes events, encounters. He calls them 'constructed situations'. A while ago he took all of the art objects out of the Guggenheim in New York, and people walked up the spiral slope, one by one, led by a child, then someone slightly older, and so on all the way to someone really quite old at the top - the conversations there were about progress.
For the piece at the Tate there's a big group of us, and I think we meet people who come in to the gallery and talk with them. It's structured at some level, but inevitably different depending on who you actually meet and how they engage, what they do.
So you talk to people.
Well, I'll let you know more about it once I know a bit more. There are themes, topics, but a lot of it's improvised.
What do they call that kind of thing?
Mmm, I guess it's performance. Or probably conceptual art.
He studied dance when he was younger, and something of that remains. But it's not really dance.
Oh. Do you crawl? (chortle)
No, I don't crawl ...
You'll have to be careful who you engage in conversation, you don't want to get involved with a psychopath.
He might punch you in the nose.
What? How many psychopaths have you ever met in the Tate?
Well, judging by some of the art in there, there's quite a few around. Some of the art's psychopathetic.
Blimey. Just because you don't much like it - that's a preposterous thing to say. So because you don't like Mark Rothko's paintings does that mean he was a psychopath?
Oh, just trying to bring a bit of levity to the conversation.
And I don't always understand the words you use. Your words mean different things. I have to use a dictionary.
You'll need to be careful who you talk to.
Have you not understood this conversation?
Yes yes, this sort of thing is fine.
Well then I can talk with people. I can talk with you.
Yes, but I have to analyse your writing.
Oh ... Oh dear. It's just a conversation, Dad.
And do you get paid?