Brain Wordle

Autumn Stroll

A seven month gap between blog posts is acceptable, right? I have just read through four half finished blogs which were all attempted at moments where I thought that my brain was working enough to write and that I wouldn’t fall asleep or become distracted. Ridiculous!

What this says to me is that my year is bookended by quiet, reflective moments and everything in between is an absolute riot...which is a tad depressing. Posting now is also indicative of the influence the change of season has on me. A lazier writer would bore you at this point with clichés about enjoying the crispness of the air, the change of colour and smell around you, shorter days and all that Autumn jazz. And I do enjoy all those things but mostly Autumn feels like breathing space to me, which is the main reason I like it.

In between sentences I am creating a playlist called Autumn Stroll, which you can enjoy here, if you are so inclined. Creating playlists is a recent habit, I quite like it.

So what am I thinking about at the moment? Recently I read a blog by Pony Pie entitled Art, Money and Reasons We Do It Our Damn Selves and the way it resonated with me was almost like a physical sensation. Akin to being shaken vigorously and told no, really, you are not the only one who has thought and worried about this. I was particularly affected by the paragraph on the “DIY practitioner”, because of the stark and profound truth of it. When you are an unfunded artist or theatre-maker just trying to make work and forge a path for yourself, fighting against becoming downhearted, upstaged, exhausted and ready to quit is half the battle.

When I started Rhymes with Purple it was in response to knowing something that I didn’t need to be told. That ultimately not being a genius, a graduate of a certain institution or lucky enough to find oneself in with the worthy crowd were serious barriers, potentially insurmountable ones. If I wanted to create and stage my ideas then I had to do it myself. And nothing has been harder, more soul destroying and painful than the result of that decision.

Being deemed “worthy” has been a five year long argument and even after all that time we still haven’t reached maturity for the very reason that holding down other jobs to pay the bills and laying the foundations of a theatre company, even a tiny little one, requires a vast amount of work and energy. Don’t get me wrong, I am proud of what we have achieved, but we aren’t setting any creative fires yet because after the needs of the day are met fatigue begins to leech on the desire to experiment and create. I used to worry that this was making excuses, that in fact I wasn’t very prolific even though sometimes it felt like I was having a hundred ideas a second. Ideas that called on me to grab and anchor them but the weight of getting by prevented me from being quick enough before they flashed by.

When I read Pony Pie’s blog I felt relieved, reassured and a little less like an outsider. I’ve been at this since I was 19 and at 26 it has made me feel old and I am not going to pretend the thought of quitting hasn’t entered my head. But then, I’ve come pretty far; the job that pays my bills is in the arts and provides me the flexibility to be creative and thoughtful even though it’s extremely hard work. Despite always having a day job of some kind I have carried on producing, creating and making because for me failure is not an option. I can’t let being a DIY practitioner exhaust me because I have come too far to quit now. I believe what I am doing is worthy, the artists that I collaborate with and the audiences that come to the shows all appear to agree so stopping because it’s hard just seems like doing myself and my peers a disservice.

Reading Pony Pie’s blog on this debate, which does encompass and cast a critical and informed eye on all the wider issues facing DIY and subsidised artists, came at exactly the right time for me. Because although I know there is a wider discussion to be addressed, that it’s hard for everyone and that a solution is not rapidly forthcoming it inspired me. Like Pony Pie, I’ve always known that I am doing it all myself because no one will give me any money but now rather than seeing that as the catalyst for “artistic death”, I feel more than ever it’s a call to arms, the motivation to continue and fight because I value my artistic output, even if those handing out the “worthy badges” do not. And with that value I can survive. Pony Pie passed onto me her sense of knowing where I stand in relationship to “worthy” community oriented practice and practitioners, which is firmly on my own two feet right alongside them.

Totem

"Totemism (derived from the root -oode- in the Ojibwe language, which referred to something kinship-related".

For Valentines day I dedicated five totems to a selection of people who mean a great deal to me. I also learned to knit (badly), ate cake, listened to some lovely music and enjoyed the performance poetry and soundscaping of Drew Taylor and Fiona Johnston, respectively. This was the medium through which some of the Totems found their live incarnation.

All of which I enjoyed in the company of three of my favourite people; my Mum, my Fiancé and my best friend. Probably the best way to spend Valentines Day really, my thoughts about which I will return to a little later on (in Blog time).

You are probably wondering what a totem is aren't you? In this instance, Totems are a declaration of love and were the focus of participatory performance project Totem of My Love, staged last night at The Arches in Glasgow.

I've just realised I should interject here regarding my comment about knitting badly; this was through no fault of my teacher, who happened to be my Mother. Mum, it's not your fault I was born with the hands and craft capability of a one armed spider monkey with severe depth perception issues...and who is also in a coma. You did all you could.

The whole experience of Totem of my Love was an incredibly uplifting one; allowing you to bring into focus, in your own mind, the people/pets/places in your life that matter most to you and as a result freeing up some space in what is normally a cluttered thought process, frenetic with the day-to-day business of getting on with things, to truly appreciate them.

Appropriate that it should happen on Valentines Day, which as a concept I despise. My experience on Monday only served to underline the insipid nastiness of this particular day even further. Acknowledgement, admiration and appreciation of the people in your life should really be a daily occurrence that happens as naturally as breathing.

I don't intend to be overly sentimental; what also happens as naturally as breathing are the fights, the mistakes, the thoughtlessness and neglect. And the more you care about someone the more likely you are to end up employing any one item from that list in your interaction with them.

You could go with the Inception interpretation; a totem keeps you grounded, it's the one thing that allows you to maintain a grasp on a fragile reality.

However you want to to interpret it, Totems are good things. I'm really lucky, I have lots...

Strange Days and New Years

Hogmanay celebrations are a tricky thing to get right. If you try to implement a strategy of immense detail you will inevitably fail. Doomed to see in the New Year in a crowd of people you are not particularly bothered about, which won’t matter too much anyway because you will spend most of your evening in a queue for an overpriced bar before concluding the proceedings being driven to a homicidal, insane rage searching for that completely elusive taxi home.

Leaving your plans to chance can often be a preferable option however can sometimes result in watching the BBC celebrations on the TV whilst eating shortbread with your Gran. Mind you, given that my wee Granny has been gone two years now I wouldn’t say no to that option if it were to suddenly present itself. That’s a bit maudlin...I probably wouldn’t like that, Zombie Gran Invasion is not the optimal activity.

Therefore when it was (semi) drunkenly decided on the spur of the moment, via text, with a good mate whilst I was in the pub and she was at home, to book a trip to London to see Sonic Youth and Shellac play the ATP Strange Days gig at the Hammersmith Apollo, the stress of trying to arrange something fun whilst keeping everyone else happy was suddenly alleviated.

I’ve always been of the opinion that the specific activity chosen for your Hogmanay doesn’t really matter so long as you are spending it with the people that are important to you. For me, this year, the numbers were very much narrowed to two very special folks therefore it made sense.

Of course, there are a couple of other people whom had they been able to join us would have made the whole trip absolutely perfect however if you do decide to hop over the border for a party then it is to be expected that not everyone you love will be able to join you. Them’s the breaks.

That being said, this year’s Hogmanay was the best I have had in long and weary; there was very little pressure being placed on anyone and it was just, well, awesome.
With regards to the gig itself, the bands were tremendous; Shellac were particularly fantastic, I was reminded of just how amazingly tight they actually are. And Sonic Youth brought in the bells with a blistering opening to their consistently excellent set.

The DJs that accompanied the continued New Year debauchery until 3am were equally ace and my friend and I danced like complete tits. A video of this has been provided for your enjoyment and blackmail purposes.

Another thoroughly lovely element to this trip was the fact that we were very kindly put up by two friends who live in London. It was really refreshing to spend this particular time of year in the company of some really cool people that due to geography I just don’t get to see. Myself and my party had a really awesome, beer fuelled, banterific two days in their company.

They also introduced us to a phenomenon surrounding a movie called Troll 2 which, frankly, I am completely baffled as to how I led my life unaware of. What will follow in 2011 will be a number of Troll 2 social events in which I systematically pass on the knowledge of Troll 2 to everyone I come into contact with.

What else did we manage to squeeze into a very short two days? As we were in London it felt rude to not try and go to the theatre. Our first choice, given that post-Hogmanay drunken shenanigans had instilled the need for something silly, was Legally Blond. However, this plan was thwarted due to exorbitant West End ticket prices.

Instead, we settled on a deal for End of the Rainbow at Trafalgar Studios; a biographical piece of drama based on the final few months of the life of Judy Garland. Now, I have been an avid fan of Judy Garland my entire life so this was a fine option for me however my two friends were, it’s perhaps fair to say, less enthused.

Fortunately, my companions being appreciative of high-quality drama were not disappointed with End of the Rainbow, as that is exactly what it is. The whole evenings entertainment ended with a standing ovation and me in floods of tears...(I swear I must have been a gay man in a previous life!) Not exactly the silly shenanigans we had hoped for but fulfilling none the less.

So Hogmanay celebrations 2011 were a resounding success, I'm thinking a foray into the wilds of the North of Scotland might be on the cards next year.

The one and only disappointment, if I had to locate one, was that in my absence from shiny Glasvegas I missed one of my best mates performing for the first time under the banner of a new musical creation of his. Franks Wild Band is Scotlands only Tom Waits tribute and very good he is too! Franks Wild Band has a residency in uber-trendy and Waits inspired gin bar, The Long Way Home. The disappointment of missing him the first time was fortunately short lived as he is making a triumphant return on the 6th February for a "Blue Valentine" gig.

So roll on 2011 and all your new adventures.

Adventures in Montreal

I spent the entirety of last week exploring the sights, sounds and cultural landscape of Montreal, Canada. In true intrepid adventurer style I made a number of influential discoveries. The first and most important of which is Poutine, a popular Canadian dish; one part french fries, one part incredibly rich beef gravy, one part cheese curds and one (optional) part chicken. I had to acquiesce and credit Canada with perfecting the ultimate hangover cure, knocking a can of Irn-Bru and Piece n’ Square Sausage off the top of the league table. Poutine is equally enjoyable as the reverse of remedy, as an accompaniment to copious amounts of beer. In fact, it can bolster you into drinking twice as much, comfortably and with panache!

The second discovery and of, now that I consider it properly, of equal importance is the fact that it is not uncommon in Montreal to find bars with beer taps plumbed into the tables; allowing you the freedom to pull your own pints as frequently as you wish regardless of the business levels at the bar. Dangerous yes, but where’s the fun without a little risk? If you ask me, this particular concept is long overdue in Scotland. Tennents, there’s something for you to market.

Another discovery made was that I quite enjoy ice-hockey, however this may be down to the utterly infectious passion that the natives have for this brutally fun sport.

However, I was not there solely as an ambassador for sport, beer and deliciously unhealthy snacks. The real purpose of my trip was as a delegate at CINARS – the International Exchange for the Performing Arts. Probably the largest of these types of conferences I have attended in my career to date it consisted of showcase performances, workshops, seminars and exhibition booths for companies and artists participating in CINARS. The purpose of CINARS, and of these types of events in general, is to strengthen the circulation of the performing arts, endorse artistic creation and promote business exchange and collaboration.

My specific responsibility during this trip was to speak on the panel of one the discussion events being held in the programme of activity, the focus of which was the “OFF Phenomenon”. To clarify, this phrase doesn’t actually exist within the UKs cultural vocabulary but it can be interpreted to mean the same as “fringe”. So in the same way that the Edinburgh Festival Fringe exists “on the fringes” of the Edinburgh International Festival other large cultural events across the globe have seen the inception of smaller, alternative programming side events bearing the “off” label.

It’s often easy to become acclimatised to the peculiarities to your own situation, because you’re in it, and what was brought home for me during the course of this discussion event was just how unique the Edinburgh Festival Fringe is as a model. The ripples of amused astonishment that reacted through the crowd of attendees as I relayed some staggering statistics about the Edinburgh Festival Fringe that to me have become commonplace in some ways; 40,254 performances of 2,453 shows in 259 venues is utterly mind boggling. So in a way, through enlightening others to the fact I was reminded of just how wonderful a situation that is to have gotten used to and experienced the awe of it anew.

Other discoveries I made were artistic; there was a lot of performances to see over the course of my short six days. I confess that some of the theatre work I struggled with due to my terrible grasp of French.

I was exposed to some...interesting dance work...interesting being for lack of a less polite adjective.

Let’s put it this way, on more than one occasion I was transported to Spaced – Series 1 – Episode 3 “Art”. In my head I heard “Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit, rabbit, rabbit, rabbit, rabbit....ooh, like a little flower...rabbit, rabbit, rabbit”. It’s true what they say; really great art is NOT as easy as it looks.

What I did love however, and will keenly spread the word to anyone willing to be bored by me was:
L’Orchestre d’hommes-orchestre - http://www.lodho.com/ - Also check out their Facebook

I’m not sure how to describe them other than what I saw was an epic tribute to the works of Tom Waits, crazily performed in the most non-traditional fashion.

Just....well, just look them up.

They were, I think, my main highlight. Not least because of my pre-existing enjoyment of their muse but I remained utterly enraptured by their manic performance style throughout. Unique, insane and captivating; it’s these sort of crazy bastards that make travelling thousands of miles, across on ocean, to discuss the politics of art worthwhile. Because discussions, politics and business aside, they are making it happen, in their own way, and that is ultimately what really fucking matters!

IETM Glasgow 2010: Reflections, Part 1

One thing that I have enjoyed is the opportunity to reconnect with my own city. Even before I started spending five days of my week in Edinburgh I hadn’t really engaged with Glasgow properly in a long time. Pounding the streets during IETM has allowed me to do that and in some ways perceive it a new.

By visiting all of my home towns significant cultural locations I’m feeling imbued with a feeling of pride, confidence in what my country has to say in the Europe wide cultural dialogue and, perhaps most importantly, a feeling of security in my own participation in that conversation.

Round table discussions about the mobilisation of arts advocacy across the European Union has helped me to identify more with the cultural landscape in which I work and play, create and enable.

Over the course of three short days I have created links not only for myself, as a creative individual, but for the Edinburgh Fringe Society, the organisation I represent, with Barcelona, Poland, Germany, France and the Netherlands.

I also won £5.40 on the euro millions which I have decided to take as significant. Perhaps it is representative of the fact that primarily I am Scottish but I am also European.

All this cross-cultural interconnectivity has been illuminating not only in the context of what I already know but also on where my knowledge could do with sharpening.

A point that has been addressed more than once this weekend is that it is so easy to work in your own little bubble and forget that there are entire continents out there with whom we can communicate and work alongside in order to make things easier and better, creatively and politically.

It is important to remember that we, the current generation of creative practitioners and professionals, leave the legacy for the next and therefore we should endeavour together to make sure that it is a good and sustainable legacy.

We should be aware of what our colleagues and peers are doing and what we can to do to support each other.

One of the key issues highlighted during the sessions of IETM is, of course, the universal problem of budget cuts for the arts and the societal value of arts activities, or lack there of.

What stood out in my mind, and it is a symptom of where we are going wrong and a consistent bad habit within the cultural sector. It is, to paraphrase John Holden, that arts policy debate takes place between experts when it should be a conversation between audiences.

Linking into that is the fact that the fate of cultural funding is always in the hands of politicians who will campaign for what is important to society at large.
Society at large is your audience; you take the debate on policy to them then you create value in cultural activity where perhaps it hasn’t existed before. That will inevitably translate into influence on how they use their vote. You instill value for what you do in the people that can consume it then it follows that you instill it in the policy makers, because they have to respond to their audience just as much as we do.

Spaced...The Lost Generation

I went to the doctors the other day, which is boring I realise but relevant to this blog, stay with me my story gets better!

Whilst waiting to see my GP and to be told something utterly useless I rifled through the magazines in the waiting room for something printed after 2007. Finding something from 2009 was an epic success.

Anyhoo, my luck was clearly in, this particular issue of (I think it was Vanity Fair, but don't quote me) had a very interesting interview with one of my personal idols, Simon Pegg, conducted by Janice Street Porter.

The media standard questions were issued, albeit with a touch more informed finesse from the JSP; Spaced/SotD & Hot Fuzz/Hollywood beckoning and a sprinkling of questions related to Pegg's personal life.

Of course one of the main topics that piqued my interest, always, is that of Spaced. Given that I believe it to be the best television show Britain has ever produced.

And what I want to address is a comment made by Pegg on the concept behind Spaced which I think sums it up perfectly and makes it one of the most germane sitcoms for my generation (and by my generation I mean those who are in their mid/late twenties and early thirties).

The comment was (roughly, I didn't take the mag from the GPs for reference) that Spaced essentially speaks to what can be referred to as today’s "Lost Generation". Up until fairly recently when you hit the 25 mark a special tag embedded somewhere in you went off in a sort of Logans Run type fashion. When this tag sends out its beacon it starts your biological clock and alerts society to start piling on the pressure for you to get married, punch out a few kids, get that promotion and the house in the suburbs and live normally ever after.

For my parents, the parents of pretty much everyone I know and the generations that preceded them this was the societal norm. Not in a fascist regime kind of way, it's just what everyone did. There was an unspoken agreement about what sort of time in your life you really should have figured everything out and be a grown up.

However, for my generation (the "Spaced" generation) we seem to have acquired an extra ten years that we, in Peggs words, "don't really know what to do with".

This extra ten years that bridge the gap from 25 to 35 (roughly, you can allow for extra on either side of those numbers depending on your situation) are spent barely navigating our way through our lives desperately trying to figure out what the hell it is we want to do with ourselves.

Tim & Daisy encapsulate this feeling of extended studentness perfectly and it's expertly peppered with the added anguish of well...the fact that we aren't students any more but supposed grown-ups in the eyes of the world but sure as hell not feeling like it.

We are the Star Wars, Genre Loving, Pop-Culture Quoting "Lost Generation" and that's why Spaced speaks to us. That's what makes it so good. Well, that and it's groundbreaking cinematic style, exceptional writing and brilliant cast of course.

It tapped into what we were all feeling, and still are to an extent, and put it on the small screen in the best way imaginable.

Spaced pretty much said; we get it, and isn't it hilarious?

Best. Sitcom. Ever.