Proto-type Lab

Sticky-Tape: The New Blog Post

noreply@blogger.com (Jonathan Coleman) — Fri, 18 May 2012 14:36:00 +0000

Hey All,

Just a really quick catch up on all things Sticky-Tape. Since our last post we have been looking for rehearsal spaces in Manchester. As much as we love our trips to Lancaster, and really appreciate the free space and support, we need somewhere in Manchester just so that we can be more intelligent and productive with the time we have. So we have been sending emails and making phone calls, shopping around for a decent space that we can afford. Things on that front are progressing, that said if anyone reading knows of any gems that we may not have discovered then we'd really appreciate a helping hand.

We also have some copy for the show from our last session with Wes, we will be posting that up very soon and it would be great to have your thoughts and feedback on that.

Finally we are having our next session in the Ducie st offices on Monday the 21st, so we will let you know how that went shortly afterwards.

Thats about it for now. Thanks for reading.

The Sticky-Tape boys.

Thoughts on the Getting It Out There Symposium and Meal

noreply@blogger.com (Peter P) — Sat, 12 May 2012 17:18:00 +0000

This post also appears on drpetralia.com.

I am utterly shattered from a busy few weeks of travelling, doing shows, teaching, marking, and working on an epic collectively cooked meal-event for the Getting It Out There symposium that finished today at Live at LICA. In recent days, I’ve been thinking that I really need to just stop; it has felt like I’ve been doing too much, working too hard and not actually getting the time I want to reflect and refresh my brain. I was feeling very much apprehensive about going into the meal event, partly because of my exhaustion, and partly out a fear that the event simply wouldn’t work as intended. In the end, I am extremely pleased with how it went and think it may be have another life for the Proto-type team in other venues, in other cities. I’ll attempt in this blog post to say a bit about what the meal-event, and the symposium, were each like.

Several years ago, I started a project called the Sunday Lunch Club (SLC) as part of a bursary I received from New Work Network and the Nuffield Theatre Lancaster (now part of Live at LICA). The Sunday Lunch Club was a meal-event that happened about six times a year in various venues in the North West (originally…eventually it moved into Yorkshire too), in which a few artists showed works in development, received detailed, structured critical feedback, and then enjoyed a delicious (catered) meal. After doing a few events on my own, the Sunday Lunch Club became part of Proto-type’s offer and each event was organised and run by various members of the company. At any given event, there was anywhere from 15-50 people in attendance, and generally the events left everyone feeling really engaged and positive and, I hope, a bit more connected to each other as artists.

When I first developed the SLC, I had the intention that it might eventually have a public facing event which had the spirit of the private, artist-focused ones, but without the quite detailed structure. I was never able to find the time, money or energy to make one of those happen. About six months (or even a year?) ago, Matt Fenton, director of Live at LICA, and Alice Booth, creative producer, approached me to ask if I, or Proto-type, might be interested in creating a meal as a pre-event for the Getting It Out There Symposium that had some of the spirit of the SLC. The event was to be scheduled to coincide with a meeting of the Live Art UK group who would be meeting up before the symposium officially began, and immediately following the world premiere of a new Franko-B piece.

After a few meetings, and conversations with the Proto-type team, we decided we’d make a meal that involved everyone in attendance preparing the food that they’d then eat, and we’d curate a series of performance interventions to happen during the meal. We agreed a number of guests based on what Live at LICA anticipated in terms of possible guests in town and based on what we could handle for such a complex project.

I won’t detail the whole event here, partly because I’m tired but also because I don’t know if I can accurately describe it so close to it finishing. But, briefly, the way it worked was that we had forty people (including team Proto-type) who were invited into a space that had three working tables set up. On each table were the ingredients and equipment to make one element of the meal. Guests split themselves into groups to prepare sections of the meal while part of the group set the dining room with plates, cutlery, etc. Meanwhile, a main course was being baked in the oven (we decided not to collaboratively cook the main). Before prepping the food, during the meal and after the dessert course, we had a series of artists who did things like make toasts, sing songs, teach us a social dance, start conversations about the themes of the symposium, give gifts to be opened later and introduce us to modes of thinking about what it means to get it, to get it out, to get it out there (a lovely collection of artists – A Smith, Leentje Van de Cruys, Renny O’Shea and Eilidh MacAskill…the playlists we were supposed to get from Gary Winters never materialised sadly).

We were nervous that people wouldn’t be up for cooking or that the conversation starters we provided would be weird. We worried that we would have forgotten a key ingredient or tool. We worried that it would go on too late and that the food wouldn’t taste good. Although it did go quite late, and although we had one nasty participant who was quite rude (won’t name names here), the food was good, the conversation flowed and everyone (bar one) had a brilliant time (so I’ve been told). I was extremely proud of the hard work that everyone at team Proto put in and although we will have lost money on doing it, I’m pleased that Live at LICA invited us to give it a go. Some images from the event are below in the gallery; I’ll try to link to more when the official photos become available from Live at LICA.

After an epic cleanup (we finished at 2am) and a brief nap, I went to the symposium proper today. I had thought about just going home because I was so tired, but I am extremely glad that I suffered through the exhaustion. It was an incredibly stimulating symposium structured around three panels, several artist interventions and some delicious food from the Borough. A full packet with details of the panels and panelists is online here. Artist, writer and educator Theron Schmidt is creating some kind of documentation of the event – I’ll post a link to it when it is finished as well.

The symposium raised a number of issues for me, some of which I’ll list here in no particular order:

What is the role of the critic anymore? Should we (experimental theatre makers, live artists, etc) stop trying to gain the attention of the ‘mainstream’ media now that there are so many bloggers and other avenues for gaining critique of our work?
Why are critics in the UK so unable to find the vocabulary necessary to talk about the kind of work we make?
When the large regional venues invite experimental makers into their spaces, why is our practice often relegated to a ‘special section’ of brochures and/or placed into a frame that treats it as exotic or strange?
What do artists need to do to better communicate with venues and audiences about the kind of practices we are engaged in so that it is less terrifying/off-putting?
How do you strike a balance between making the kind of work you want to make and making the work accessible to an audience (and I don’t mean dumbing your work down)?
Why is it that so often on tour venue staff often have no idea who we are and what our work is as artists (and often even that we’re coming)? Why, when you walk around the town centre of a city you’re touring to is there often no sign that your show is on (posters, etc)?
Why tour? Is it because it is seen as a financial imperative, or are there other reasons? For me, touring has both financial implications and also intellectual/cultural ones. I get so much more out of touring our work to places I’ve never been before, to new audiences, than I do going to the same few venues in the UK?
What are artists like us supposed to do now that many of our former venue partners are closing?
What the hell is a good show?
What can artists do about the fact that many venues pay late, or not at all? We had to take one venue to small claims in order to get paid…
Why is work in the UK often so unambitious? Is the touring model creating a situation that encourages artists to compromise on quality in order to make a piece that a) fits a generic black box context and b) is easy to get into a car or van?
What about mid-career artists? What are we supposed to do when we get to a point where our practice is very developed, we’ve toured lots and we still don’t earn a living wage?
Do venues need more of a sense of self? I think they probably do, but not at the expense of what really matters which is the art.
Don’t demand an audience without putting in the hard work to gain one (and to gain their respect).
Exclusions zones need to go. I am going to propose to the Proto-type team that we refuse to agree to them from now on.

I know there are many more issues and a lot more I could say here, but for now, I think I’ll stop. May be more on this coming in the next few weeks as I let it all absorb in.

The images below include the meal and the symposium.

Heading South

noreply@blogger.com (Peter P) — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 16:11:00 +0000

(this post also appears on drpetralia.com)

Today, we're off to Zimbabwe. We're performing our show Third Person: Bonnie and Clyde Redux in the Harare International Festival of the Arts. This has been a day of packing up our excess luggage (which has all the props needed for the show and a few bits of technological kit), discussing logistics of being in sub-saharan Africa, and being a bit silly/giddy as we wait for flight later this evening.

Gillian bought a new eye mask:

We are flying on Emirates from Manchester to Dubai and then on to Harare, with a stop (but no plane change) in Lusaka. The flight to Dubai is 7 hours and the flight to Harare 9 hours so we're going to be in transit for a long time. Being optimistic that I might avoid watching bad rom-com's on the inflight entertainment system, I bought two books:

One, is my slightly arty fiction and the other is my slightly accesible academic book that relates to my research. I've opted not to bring my iPad (or any portable technology beyond my mobile phone), so I'm optimistic I'll actually read these things.

Having never been to Africa before, I'm super excited and feel really lucky to be going under the auspices of the British Council, who have partially funded our participation in the festival. I'm looking forward to seeing some of the shows in the festival - there are about 30-40 music acts and about 20 theatre pieces, along with spoken word, dance and workshop events. It is a massive festival. How lucky to be invited. Now I just have to hope they love the show as much as we do.

Being ever cautious, and after reading a few guidebooks that offer some horror stories of not finding basic supplies, we've over-prepared ourselves in terms of first aid:

Call me paranoid, but I'd rather be prepared. There is an entire other first aid kit that isn't even in that image...

I'm hoping to be able to blog a bit about my time there as it happens, but not entirely sure how much access I'll have to the internet. This is a totally new adventure. Ready for it to begin.

Ready? Set? GO!

noreply@blogger.com (Jonathan Coleman) — Sat, 14 Apr 2012 14:15:00 +0000

Good afternoon, good people of the blogosphere, and welcome to the latest post from Sticky-tape. The past few days have been an exciting and rewarding time for us indeed. Why is that you ask? It’s because we spent them in the nicely sprung Lancaster University playrooms working away on new material for our new show.

Going in we had a few very vague ideas born out of the things that are interesting us artistically at the moment, and a few bits of material that we were playing with and gently shaping. These developed over the two days to the point where we now have a working title for the piece and feel that we have uncovered a rich avenue of inspiration that we can explore over the coming weeks and months. Our ideas about what this work will become have been growing in what feels like a very organic manner and in a way that feels very new to us. A large part of this is down to the fact that we feel free to experiment with new performance styles and explore freely out of our comfort zones at the moment. This is also in part due to a very productive artistic development session spent with Wes wherein a great deal of ground was covered, and in our eyes a great many doors were opened creatively.

So, enough about what its like working on it and a bit more about what it actually is. The working title of the show itself is Coleman, Kirk & Patel’s Traveling Glass Emporium. It is born out of a recent obsession with all things Vaudeville and a love and admiration for the performers and performances that sit under that umbrella. The emporium will be a strange beast. It will aim to prove without a doubt that the death of vaudeville is directly linked to all of the greatest and most horrible events of the 20th century, It will answer the age old questions of ‘How much does a diamond actually cost?’ and ‘what is the ideal number of people for this planet of ours?’ You will see sticky-tape perform feats that you probably weren't expecting three men of our caliber to attempt, and hopefully you will laugh a little along the way too. Now, it is a bit scary letting such young ideas out into the world but we would love to hear any thoughts you have about the little bit we’ve just revealed. Any and all feedback is appreciated. If you would like to contact us either leave us a message in the comments or drop us an email: leo@sticky-tape.org.

Be excellent to each other,

Leonard

Attack of the Clones (or not...)

noreply@blogger.com (Andrew Westerside) — Sat, 14 Apr 2012 12:48:00 +0000

Hi Folks -

As I write this, I'm sat in a rehearsal space at MMU while we prepare our show Third Person, for its outing to the HIFA Festival in Zimbabwe in May. Only this time, I'm sat in the audience. Unfortunately, I can't make the trip because of a heavy assessment schedule at work, which means that performer, academic, festival director and all-round good-egg Kevin Egan is bravely stepping-in to take my place.

It's an unusual experience, seeing someone else say 'my' lines, do 'my' moves, and go through the motions and mechanics of the piece as I've done hundreds of times. It's hard to keep quiet, and not intervene. It's hard not to say 'I do it like this..'. But despite the oddness of being an educated outsider, it's also a fascinating experience.

What's really nice, is that Kevin brings his own energy to the work, and there are new and exciting things cropping up in the work that aren't (and possibly even can't) be there when I'm in Clyde's shoes. But what's equally interesting is the way we learn performance when we 'step-in', in this way. There have been moments already in this rehearsal where I can see my own brain, my own thought processes, made visible through Kevin's body and voice; a way of standing, a way of speaking, intoning, and inflecting a word which I perceive to be 'mine'. Of course, many of those linguistic doppelgängers come from the poetry and fluidity of Peter's text, but there is the occasional moment - a split second - where I feel like Paul McCartney watching the Bootleg Beatles.

I knew it would be an interesting process, but it's making me think quite in-depth about some of the complex notions that are at the root of Kevin's entry into the work. It's quite normal, in repertoire or classics, for many performers to play the same role, but it very rarely happens in the kind of work that we make. I wonder what kind of questions arise when we think about this notion in a little more depth. How might this impact on the notion of liveness, or the 'truth' or 'nowness' of what we present?

I think these questions demand some attention, but not now, because this is my lunch break and I have half of a packet sandwich left to eat. Kevin's going to do a great job in Zimbabwe, and I hope they capture some good video so that I can take a look at the finished article when everyone comes home. Maybe we'll be able to share some for you here.

Now, where's that sandwich...

W x

noreply@blogger.com (Jonathan Coleman) — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 15:46:00 +0000

Hello all,

Here’s a quick catch-up on our most recent session with Proto-type. On the 9^th of March we met Peter in the Ducie st. Office to talk about ACE and alternative funding sources. It was a really informative and useful session during which we looked at the various types of funding bodies in existence.

We also looked at Budgets, a very important part of the funding application. Peter told us, and demonstrated how a good budget should be able to tell you a story about the show. It can tell you about the aesthetics, the production values, the number of performers and all sorts of other things about a show, so making a good one is important.

Throughout the session we were given a wealth of tips and guidance about applying for funding. All of this knowledge has been stowed away safely for us to use when it comes to applying for funding for the first time.

Sorry about the very factual nature of this post, it’s been a rather busy week, that and it’s very sunny. Writing a blog post whilst trying to enjoy the sun is tricky, it’s hard to type with an ice cream in your hand.

Our next session will be a practical session in April, so we’ll let you know more then.

Sticky-Tape

Proto-type in Zimbabwe

noreply@blogger.com (gill) — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 16:11:00 +0000

Hello from planet Proto-type!

Following our very exciting trip to Armenia with the British Council last year, Proto-type hits the international road once more with Third Person: Bonnie and Clyde (redux). We are pleased to announce that we will be performing in Zimbabwe in May, as part of the Harare International Festival of the Arts, once more supported by the British Council. Check it out here!

Unlike previous performances of this show, we will not have Wes with us for our African adventure (sad face). We will however be welcoming Kevin Egan in to the Proto-type fold to perform with Gillian which we are all very pleased about!

We very much look forward to keeping you up to date with the goings on from the other side of the world, so watch this space...

noreply@blogger.com (Peter P) — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 09:29:00 +0000

This post also appears on www.drpetralia.com

Yesterday was the last day of the most recent set of rehearsals for Proto-type Theater's new opera project. We've been responding to the Alberts Camus novel L'estranger. Originally, we thought we might be adapting the novel using the opera form (i.e., full sung through and performing the narrative) and working with the laptop ensemble to make the voices of our non singers sound operatic. Through the first two rehearsal periods, it became clear that the laptop ensemble had a lot more potential than simply running effects over the non-singer's voices, and it also became clear that even if they did that it would never really sound like opera in the classical sense. So we moved to a looser exploration of notions of opera, fixating on the idea of a performance that was entirely sung. We also moved to a looser understanding of the relationship to the book and have ended up really responding and not necessarily telling the story.

So, after these short periods of rehearsing it seems like what we are doing is using a concert form as our structuring idea. What that decision has meant is that we have a clearer idea of the relationship of the performers (the three 'non singers' and the three 'laptop ensemble musicians) to the audience and to the material they are performing. We also have been able to bring in other content beyond the book and are now working with ideas related to the human relationship to the god-like technology we all carry around with us on a daily basis. The result of all of this is that we have a structure that is split into thirteen 'chapters' or musical movements, organised a bit like a set list for a gig. The music so far ranges from quite choral and tightly harmonised to rambling folky music to quite ethereal and atmospheric. The concert structure has allowed us to find a way to have all of these distinct styles together under one aesthetic umbrella.

We have also begun exploring the way lighting might be reactive and responsive in the space and how animation might feature as both scenographic element and emotional context for sections of the piece. The lighting that we are working with is largely object based, drawing inspiration from objects in the novel and also objects that rub up against our understanding of some of the technologies we've been working with/thinking about. Part of our thinking at the moment is that these objects might be interactive so that the performers can set visual landscapes in motion through the way they trigger the lights (without it looking like silly technological gimmickry, which we are keen to avoid).

We ended our rehearsals with about 15-20 minutes worth of rehearsed material, some of it more polished than other bits. We also have texts written for 11 of the 13 chapters, although some of that text might change as it was written rather quickly by me. In the next few weeks, we'll be hearing more of the compositions from the laptop ensemble and the performers will be learning the music. When we reconvene at the end of May, we'll hopefully be in a good position to work through quite a bit more of the piece. This is an exciting and strange new adventure, but so far its feeling good. Here is another snap of rehearsal (from yesterday)...it doesn't look like much yet, but we've actually figured quite a lot out!

A new post from Sticky-tape on all things mentorship

noreply@blogger.com (Jonathan Coleman) — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 19:51:00 +0000

Hi all,

This is our second post for the mentorship, it’ll be a bit shorter than the previous one, just a brief catch up on what we have been doing this past month.

Near the end of January we met up with Wes at the office for a session on scheduling and rural touring. Before we got down to business we decided that the best thing to do would be to plan the mentorship sessions for the next few months. For both parties the next few months were looking particularly hectic so we decided to get as much down in the diaries as we could. This was mainly due to Fortnight coming to Manchester; a prospect we’re very excited about having been unable to take part in Lancaster; and the fact that two of us have started new jobs recently whilst Tom’s been visiting family in Thailand. So, as it currently stands, our February meeting (looking at ACE grants and alternative sources of funding) will actually be taking place in March and our March session will be a practical artistic development session taking place at MMU and will be looking at ideas for our new show.

So, after we got all of that sorted and pencilled in we started to look in depth at the various ins and outs of successful project scheduling. We had already constructed a very basic outline of how we envisioned our next project unfolding prior to the meeting, and this ended up serving brilliantly as a springboard to a discussion about just how important it is to plan down to the smallest detail. Things like an hourly breakdown of what will be taking place in the rehearsal and proper budgeting are artistic discipline 101, and a refresher on this was perfectly timed considering our downtime over new years. We also looked at the value of record keeping, documentation, setting goals for the rehearsals and inviting friends, other practitioners and people’s who opinions we respect. All of these things will allow us to make sure that the process is a cumulative one and that we’re always building in a focused manner on what we’ve got without losing things along the way.

In the rural touring section of the session we looked first of all at the differences between rural and venue touring. Particularly at the different sorts of work applicable to each, as well as the different types of audiences we would be catering to. We also discussed the limitations that rural touring can place on a project as far as production values go. The counter point to this is that a show that can be toured rurally will be able to tour for longer in a larger number of smaller venues, as larger scale shows at venues like the Nuffield and Contact can affect a pretty wide audience catchment area. We learned a lot and it was all very useful, pertinent stuff.

So that’s just a brief summary of what we’ve been up to. We intend to have another two posts in March giving you a bit of an insight into our funding session and where we are in the development of our new show.

Until then,

Be excellent to each other

Sticky-Tape

Notes from Social Cities of Tomorrow

noreply@blogger.com (Peter P) — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 11:34:00 +0000

Last Thursday I flew to Amsterdam for a quick trip to the Social Cities of Tomorrow conference which was being held at the MC Theatre. The last time I was in Amsterdam was in 2004 when I was (briefly) a student at Das Arts, a postgraduate programme for theatre artists. My time at Das Arts wasn't fabulous...the programme was going through a massive shift and it wasn't at all the advanced laboratory I had expected. I was trying to push my practice into more conceptual territory at the time, and the head of the school wanted me to keep doing the same work I had been doing for years. So, my time living in Amsterdam was a brief encounter that was very much clouded by negative feelings. It was really nice, then, to come return to rediscover Amsterdam out of that context.

The crowd at lunch, MC Theatre

The conference was incredibly inspiring, despite the fact that I was getting a progressively worse cold/flu thing over the time I was there. The structure of the programme was arranged around three keynotes from remarkable presenters: Usman Haque (founder of Pachube.com), Natalie Jeremijenko (founder of the xDesign Environmental Health Clinic [TED TALK HERE]) and Dan Hill (from Sitra). Between each of the keynotes, there were showcase presentations of work spanning a range of projects that were in some way addressing the notion of a social city. Our friends at Uninvited Guests were there presenting their R&D project from the Theatre Sandbox scheme called Give Me Back My Broken Night. Most of the conference talks were not about art or theatre (with the exception of the Uninvited Guests showcase), but I found my head buzzing like crazy throughout the intensive day. It was a truly inspiring set of speakers that is making me really wonder about what I'm doing with my life. I don't know exactly what impact it will have on my long term, but it has certainly unsettled me (in a good way).

To give you a sense of why I found it so inspiring, here are a few snaps of thought from the day, in a random list that mimics the firing of synapsis that was happening in my brain:

Ownership can be the right to 'exclude' but it can also be the right to 'act'. How do we inspire cities to encourage people to feel ownership so that they are able to 'act'? What role does art/theatre have to play in this (see Fortnight).
"The city is a way of encountering things you don't know anything about; for meeting people whose background you don't share" (Usman Haque said this). This very much links with the thinking/writing I've been doing since 2006 about the idea that future cities will not be driven by commerce in the same way they are now, but instead by event culture. We no longer have any need to go into a city to buy things, really. When we do, its usually either because we want something 'right away' or because we want an experience in the 'real' world. Internet shopping is much more efficient and easy, so why shop in city centres anymore? Instead, cities of the future could/should be about providing space for people to have experiences, interactions. Hopefully these events will be driven by communities and not by corporations (but I'm not that hopeful).
We tend to think that if we have more knowledge/data/information, we'll be better equipped to act. Usman was making the point that it isn't so much about having more data (what people do, when, and how) but about making things tangible and immediate. In other words, you give all kinds of accurate statistics about how bad it is that people pollute/drive cars/etc but until those actions have a tangible result that we experience first hand, it is unlikely that a person will act to create change.
An example of the above bullet point, of making your impact on the world tangible, is Usman's project 'Natural Fuse'. Check it out. Amazing.
Embrace the complexity, reject simplicity, but make it tangible. I was glad to hear this message throughout the day as its been a founding part of Proto-type's aesthetic over the years that we don't simplify...we create complex work that is made tangible. Usman said the role of designers was to represent complexity accurately, not to simplify. I think the role of a theatre director is to do a similar thing - to represent complexity accurately in a theatrical form.
Many small actions can add up to significant impacts. This theme ran throughout the presentation by the utterly brilliant Natalie Jeremijenko. Many of her projects are playful mini explorations of the impact of humans on the planet - always done in a way that reveals the complexity of a problem. If anyone can get me a date for a meal with her I'd be super grateful. I'm pretty sure she is the most interesting/smartest person I've been near before. Just check out some of her projects and you'll know what I mean. Genius.
Check out this brilliant project in London for homeless people. Someone give them a lot of money to expand this.
And look at this game with a fantastic name that was run in the Netherlands. It is like a mini version of some of what happens in Fortnight but on a lower-tech scale.
"Technology is the answer. But what was the question." - Cedric Price. Amen brother.
From Dan Hill -->We are living in a time where the complexity of problems are out of scale with the decision making structures of our institutions (universities, governments, planning agencies, etc). The problems we are facing today aren't clear or clearly delineated; they are interdependent (aka terrorism, environmental collapse, etc). We have 18th century institutions facing 21st century problems. We need to change the systems. <-- this makes me think about how small organisations like Proto-type or independent artists like me can challenge the systems we are part of/dependent on. A lot has been said about artists working outside of the systems of funding, distribution etc. I've always found the talk from those who advocate for breaking away to be overly naive. So, if exiting the systems isn't the solution, than how do we change the systems we have? One of the things that came up again and again in relation to this question was that we need concrete projects/problems which make the problems with the system apparent. Rather than trying to change systems abstractly, its best to have a project that forces the change because the project is so good/important/necessary that the system is forced to adapt. In a weird way, this is one of the strategies I've been using at MMU where I teach and where the systems are atrocious. I've been trying to make the work I do outside of what they want me to do so valuable that they allow me to do it. We'll see if this strategy works. If not, who wants to hire me?

The notes above might seem to have nothing to do with art making and theatre, but I think they do. How can we make art, specifically art in cities as Proto-type has tended to do, without dealing with the consequences of our collective actions as humans? We need to find ways to live our values through the kind of work we do, how we do it and who we do it for.

And, most of all, playfulness is a brilliant strategy for insuring that our voices are heard.

On that note, I thought I'd share a somewhat crappy video of what was happening in the adjoining cafe to the theatre during the lunch break (check out their outfits and the song they are playing relative to their age). Only in Amsterdam:

Fortnight is coming to Manchester!

noreply@blogger.com (Peter P) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 11:33:00 +0000

Proto-type's Fortnight is coming to Manchester. If you haven't yet, then check out the trailer here:

And look at what participants of the Lancaster version had to say about it:

We are pretty proud of Fortnight, and hope you'll come play when it is in Manchester

http://www.fortnightproject.com/project/participant-feedback/

Sticky Tape Blog One

noreply@blogger.com (Jonathan Coleman) — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 08:16:00 +0000

Hello There!

This is the first contribution to Proto-type's blog by Sticky-tape. We realize it's been a while since Wes posted introducing us, promising a regular contribution to the blog and for this we would like to apologize. Things have been quite hectic on our end so far but that's no excuse for depriving you good people of the latest mentorship news.

We are now in our 4th month of the mentorship scheme and as a result felt that we should probably tell you what we have been up to. Having finished our MA's at Lancaster in September we promptly (the day after our last exams) moved to our new home in Manchester and set about finding jobs and settling in to prepare for our lives as artists in a professional context. Of course, finding jobs in the current economic climate is not that easy and so it took us a bit of time to get on our feet.

Our first meeting with Proto-type was with peter in their Manchester office. We discussed how the Mentorship scheme would work, what they expected of us and what we expected of them. It was a short meeting but we felt that it was a very positive experience. It made the professional dream real and helped us see the future of our little company a little more clearly. However, as brief as it was, it was still just long enough for me to have my bike stolen, which was, as they say, not a great thing to happen. But I guess you have to take the good with the bad in all things.

Our second meeting was centered on the importance and execution of effective networking. We discussed the significance of building and maintaining mutually beneficial relationships and various strategies that would help us do so. Following this we set about immersing ourselves in the various art networks in Manchester. Our first being Creative Lunches, a very enjoyable monthly event that served as both a forum for arts based discussion and an informal presentation event for practitioners. I would recommend Creative lunches wholeheartedly, based mainly on the welcoming atmosphere created by the people who participate.

The people that make up these networks are many and varied, ranging from the artists themselves, to people who simply love contemporary work, to the facilitators that allow the work to take place and more. All of these people are enthusiastic and willing to support each other in creating and enjoying a large and varied selection of exciting art.

In December we made our merry way up to Lancaster to use their rather impressive rehearsal spaces. Wes and Rachel came along and we spent the first day on a really in depth evaluation of our practice. We examined our back catalogue of work and our previous processes to begin a ruthless examination of our working methods. Once done we had created two large charts that contained the things we love about Sticky-Tape on the one hand and the things we would quite like to change on the other. From there we decided to move forward with the construction of our new process, focusing on our current topic of interest, vaudevillian performance, and our continued interest in pushing the boundaries of the visual aesthetics of the theatrical space. These are our jumping off points. What we end up making may or may not bear any relation to them, but such is the way of these things, I guess we will have to wait and see.

That, (barring some minor details and probably some quite important things that I have simply forgotten to mention) is pretty much everything we've done so far. I promise we will be more regular in our future blogging so that we can keep them shorter, easier to read and a bit (if only a bit) more concise.

Introducing: [Sticky-Tape Theatre]

noreply@blogger.com (Andrew Westerside) — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 17:29:00 +0000

Hello friends,

While it may not be news to some of you (and I apologise to those in the know...), we are about to launch the pilot year of our company mentorship scheme. The scheme, which we've been hatching, developing, and working-through over the past twelve months, is an opportunity for a young company to work alongside us for a year to 'learn the ropes' of making contemporary performance in professional contexts. In addition to a year of artistic support and development, we'll be offering training to our mentees on a wide variety of subjects: from budgeting to networking, rural touring to marketing - and almost everything in-between...

We had a huge amount of applications, and had we the resources, I think it's fair to say that we would have taken on more than one company. There are so many interesting young makers emerging right now, that we found it incredibly difficult to choose between their amazing and diverse range of strengths and interests. That said, a decision was indeed made, and we are delighted to introduce to you all our inaugural mentored company, Sticky-Tape Theatre.

The purpose of this particular blog post, then, is to let you know that as part of their time with us, the members of Sticky-Tape will be providing regular contributions to this blog; documenting, charting, and reflecting upon their experience of not only the mentorship scheme, but also of their first fledgling steps into the world of professional arts practice. Before they get stuck into all that, though, let me take this opportunity to tell you a little bit about the company...

Sticky-Tape Theatre, known in their component parts as Tom Kirk, Jon Coleman and Leo Patel, formed the company in 2008 during their time on Lancaster University's Theatre Studies programme. Developing a strong working sensibility and shared sense of aesthetic as undergraduates led them to their first piece, Falling, which marked the end of their second year of study. To their credit, this piece went on to be shown at the now-departed GreenRoom in Manchester. In 2009/10 they produced their graduating piece Moments/Details, which was a rich and decadent blend of performance, choreography and shadow-play, composed with a keen and perceptive eye for the subtleties, rhythms and nuances of ensemble performance.

In 2010 the Sticky-Tape team made the decision to further their research by enrolling on Lancaster's Professional Arts Practice MA (PROCAP). As well as using this time to extend their working knowledge of the contemporary arts, they also produced their third full-length work, My Canary's Name Is Daniel, which premiered in September 2011 as the celebratory culmination of their MA programme.

[Sticky-Tape Theatre] My Canary's Name Is Daniel (trailer) 2011

Which leads us to the present, to the here-and-now. Sticky-Tape's next step is here, with us, and we all have high-hopes for them and their work. We've got lots to do - as always... - and so much to talk about and discuss, but everyone at team-Proto is very excited about what promises to be a productive, stimulating, and educational twelve months.

We're delighted to have Sticky-Tape working with us, and welcome them with open arms. I hope you'll get to know them a little better as time goes by.

W.

Turning British

noreply@blogger.com (Peter P) — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 14:22:00 +0000

This blog post also appears on the British Council's website right here.

When I moved to England in 2006, I didn't expect to still be here five years later. I thought I was coming to take a break from running my small theatre company (Proto-type Theater) which I started in NYC in the 90s, to reflect on my practice by doing an MA. My plan was to step off the production treadmill that I had been on for years (momentarily) and enjoy the comforts of the Ivory Tower of Academia. Fate, luck or fortune, however, had other plans for me. Five years later, I am not back in NYC where I assumed I would be, but instead sitting in the living room of the flat that I purchased in Manchester City Centre late last year, with my PhD certificate sitting in an envelope next to me and an email from the British Council asking for information about one of Proto-type's projects. It has been a busy five years: Proto-type have premiered three touring theatre shows, created one site-responsive video installation, developed a two-week long pervasive media performance that premiered in , run a semi-regular artistic development programme called the Sunday Lunch Club, hosted a summer school, taught loads of workshops and managed to do it all on a shoestring. Time flies, as they say, when you're having fun.

When the British Council invited us to participate in ES2011, we were first of all honoured but I immediately started to wonder what it means to be 'British'. As the American-born artistic director of Proto-type, I wondered whether my face (or more accurately, my accent) was the right one to be representing the company in Edinburgh. In a time when immigration rules are tightening it seems almost a political act to call myself British. But of course, national identity is fluid and when I thought about the fact that I have committed myself to England through my flat purchase, academic day job, and my work with Proto-type, I decided that I am both British and American. I make work here that responds to and reflects onto contemporary British society, so call me 'chap' now instead of 'dude'. At least for now...

My reflections on national identity are also related to Third Person: Bonnie and Clyde Redux which will be in this year's showcase. In the piece, we use the story of Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow who were bank robbers in the early part of the 20th century as a way to explore why we love (some) people who kill and how our identities on stage relate to our identities in the 'real world'. Bonnie and Clyde were, in many ways, responding to the economic circumstances of living in dust bowl America: it is possible that their violent actions were really a reaction to the tightening noose of an America that was struggling to integrate under one common set of ideologies. Although their story is only part of what the show is about, I am sometimes struck in rehearsals by how much the show relates to England in 2011: economic uncertainty, immigration concerns, banks with too much power... The more things change, the more they stay the same it seems. So as an American and a Brit, I am intrigued to see how the tangles of politics, romance, and history that we weave together in Third Person will be received by delegates from other cultures. What parallels will they find? What debates will the show spark? What unanswered questions will it raise? I don't know how it will end up, but I am looking forward to being there for the conversation.

Proto-type Theater in the Edinburgh Fringe Fest! from Proto-type on Vimeo.

Theatre? I'd Give to Charity Before I Gave to Theatre.

noreply@blogger.com (Andrew Westerside) — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 10:08:00 +0000

Hello friends, it's been a while.

You'll have to accept my apologies for absconding from the blog for a little bit, it's been a very busy time: PhD corrections to write (now all finished - thanks, thanks); a new job starting soon; and a podcast to get off-the-ground. There's been plenty of activity behind-the-scenes at the Proto-office too, but here I am, again, with something else to think about.

As plenty of you will know already, we had a go at crowd-funding to raise funds for our upcoming jaunt to Edinburgh for the British Council Showcase. For the uninitiated, crowd-funding (sometimes known as crowd-sourcing) is 'the process of aggregating small amounts of money from many people to fund projects. This money comes in the form of donations, not investment, so it will not be repaid. However, most of the crowd-funding sites do offer the ability to provide a donor with a perk for his/her donation. Perks vary in range and are dependent on the amount of donation made. [1]'

To this end, we tried to raise £2500 to help us cover some of the associated costs of taking a show on the road. You see, the Arts Council don't grant money for touring to Edinburgh (something I do agree with), so companies are obliged to strike-out on their own to raise the cash.

As a company, it's not territory we're unfamiliar with. When Proto-type was based in NYC, we held numerous fund-raisers and other initiatives to source investment, equipment and space with great success. Indeed, our boldest initiative, which operated chiefly through a website called helpusmakecooltheater.com, raised in the region of $10,000. But don't think that this is an anomaly. Public money for the liberal arts is much harder to come by in the US - especially NYC - than it is here in the UK, and if you're a fledgling company in New York City who isn't thinking in an entrepreneurial way, then you're in for some hard lessons.

Now as far as I can see, crowd-funding isn't quite hitting the highs here as it does (did?) in the US. The first reason, I think, is to do with such a massive shift in funding structures. Acceptance takes time, and I think it's hard for many people (me included) to swallow that I have to pay, out of my own pocket, to see the kind of work that I think should be supported with public money. And then I get what I'm calling 'priority guilt', which is the view that when I give money to fund theatre, or an arts-project, I should be giving it to the homeless, or to Cancer Research, or a campaign for human rights. As I was personally told: "You want me to pay for you to make theatre? I'd give to charity before I gave to theatre". People who can't even (or won't even) spare the cash to give to charity (and I don't, because right now I either can't, or choose not to, afford to) would give to charity before they would the production of theatre. And I don't blame them. I don't blame them one bit. I can see the list of priorities there, and they have a logic to them which is strong and hard to argue against convincingly.

So it's probably about a paradigm shift that is probably a) a long way off or b) never coming at all. The shift, then, is that we need to have everyone giving to charity with enough money left over to put some money into art. But I'm guessing that if everyone gave something substantial to charity, and I mean everyone, then arts-funding wouldn't be in the place it is now.

Now, we didn't hit our target on WeFund (a large crowd-funding platform in the UK). In fact, we got to about 26%. While we don't feel like WeFund should be the sole-bearer of blame, part of that is due to potential donors having so many technical difficulties with the site that it became impossible to donate - or they donated twice, or they couldn't log in, and the list goes on. These sites, for all the work they host, are small operations - run by one, maybe two people - and it's easy to see how much work must go into keeping them running. But the problem is this: lots of people (way more than you think), still get very, very nervous about giving anything away online. And if there's a whiff of trouble, the merest suggestion of a glitch or bug, they'll run a mile and never come back. And that's why it's important that these sites are working and working well. Because there's people who I know, who tried to donate to us, that probably won't donate to anybody, ever, online now. And if you think that's an uncommon response, then you should pull your head out from the Thunderbolt port on your Macbook and realise that everybody isn't like you.

But its easy to pass the blame, and I refuse to do it. I have to look at my own work, and wonder whether judgment has been passed, whether the 'crowd' has told me that it's not worth making. But I don't buy that either. If you think you can tell an artist that they 'shouldn't' make something, then you don't understand what being an artist is. For me, for example, it's hard to collaborate. It's my biggest struggle, and the thing I find most difficult. I have a very clear idea of what theatre should be, and that won't ever (and can't ever, regardless of who I work with) be the same as the rest of the company. We overlap a great deal, and that's why we work together, but there will always be a little part of me that recites the mantra: a camel is a horse designed by committee.

My theatre, when I'm in charge, is an absolute dictatorship. This vision is mine, and you will do what I say to produce it, because it's beautiful and vital and it must be seen. My point is that it doesn't matter to me what a 'crowd' tells me, because the crowd can either give me a million dollars or cast me to the gutter, and I'll still be right, and they'll still be wrong - it's that unshakeable belief that lets me do what I do in the first place.

But I do collaborate, and I do - very much - enjoy it. It forces me to listen, to compromise, to see 'it' the way others see it, to look and think again. My practice would be less rich without it, and I love all the Proto-people from the bottom of my bottom.

So where does this leave crowd-funding? What to do with the news that we didn't raise the money we needed to raise? It just means that the world is kind of broken, and that that's the way things are. I could present you with a very convincing argument that it's all the fault of capitalism, and pander to your middle-class, Guardian-reading sensibilities, but it's greyer than that. Capitalism works, and it doesn't. People give, and they don't. People care, and they don't. Art matters, and it doesn't. Life is important, and it isn't. Things will change when they change, and when they change it's time for change. Because change, when it comes, is inevitable.

Crowd-funding is about timing. It's about a timing over which you have no control. If you know enough people with enough spare pounds at that precise moment - and they're having a good week, and are feeling in a giving mood, and see your link in a crowded twitter-feed, and have five-minutes spare, and like something you did, once, or want to get on your good side, or want to seem like a tasteful aesthete, it'll work. The conditions have to be perfect. The conditions are rarely perfect. Conditions are never truly perfect. So you move on, and you dust it off. What more can you do? Wallow? No thanks. Get angry? Why? You keep believing and you keep going, and you let your belief in what you do carry you forwards. If you don't believe in it, then you stop doing it.

If we don't make it to the Showcase that'll be a real shame, for us. And while it might have an impact on what we will do, it won't change our belief in what we can do. So we'll see you there, or we won't. We'll get rave reviews, or we won't. What you can bet your life on, though, is that while we have something to say, something to share, an image to give, we'll be doing it, somehow.

See you soon,
Wes x

[1] Sheri Candler, Crowdfunding: What Is It and How Can It Help Microbudget Filmakers

http://www.microfilmmaker.com/tipstrick/Issue52/Crowdfn1.html

Expectations...

noreply@blogger.com (Peter P) — Thu, 19 May 2011 12:04:00 +0000

At the end of a big project several things happen for me: (a) I start to reflect on what happened and what I think about it; (b) I try to reorient my focus to the things that have inevitably been slightly abandoned while I was pursuing the ‘big project’, and; (c) I generally get a bit depressed. Having just completed the first full-scale run of Fortnight as part of Mayfest in Bristol I am now speedily proceeding through a, b and c. Along the way, I’ve been thinking a lot about expectations. This, then, is a blog post about expectations (or at least that’s the expectation I am setting out with as I start writing).

When we first started making Fortnight, it was called city[E]scape. I can’t remember why we had that silly [E] in there except that maybe we thought it related to a key on a computer, or it separated the two parts of the title or something. We abandoned that title because it seemed to set an expectation that the project was somehow about escaping from cities. A conversation with Nadine Owen at the British Council made me realise that the title needed to change. She said that the project sounded brilliant but it wasn’t about cities at all, it was about people. She was right, so we went back to the workroom and thought more about what kind of title might suit the project. In the end, we went with something that related to a key formal aspect of the project (duration) because we thought that time was one of the main things that would make the piece unique. So, Fortnight it was. And is. And the expectation in that title is that it lasts for two weeks. This is what I call a ‘no risk expectation’ because in setting that expectation we have a very low risk of failure…as long as it lasts two weeks, it has lived up to its title. Perhaps this is a bit of a Danish way of seeing things (the Danes are famously the happiest people in the world due in large part to their low expectations of everything).

Over the course of developing Fortnight, we discovered that there were expectations that we were setting for ourselves (make it good, dammit) and ones which were coming from elsewhere (do it on time and on budget, and make it about me, no about me, no about me). In the end, we did what we always do, which is we tested the project a lot, listened to the feedback and followed our instincts for how to make the piece succeed. In my opinion, Fortnight was a raging success. But that depends on how you look at it and what your expectations were going in.

For instance, we tried to make it very clear in the marketing material that Fortnight was not a game or a play and that it was instead a playful exploration about being here now. Some people read this and understood it in the way we intended it. Others seem to have ignored or misread or misunderstood the marketing copy and decided that, based on the formal structure of the piece, it was a game, or a play, or something much more than playful. One of those people got angry and ‘annoyed’ (to use his word) during the project and opted out on day 12. Others coasted and sent us their feedback at the end to tell us that it didn’t meet their expectations (one calling it ‘puerile’!). These people had expectations that could not possibly be met because we don’t know what they were or where they came from. These are the ‘mystery expectations’. No hope in meeting those, but good to be reminded of them and to consider that somehow we had a hand in setting them.

Others (by far the majority) jumped into the project headlong and let it take them wherever it went. For some people it was the ‘playful’ exploration we said it would be. For others it was life changing. We received this bit of feedback one day in our office:

And this postcard was sent to us from a participant after a task that involved writing a postcard to someone:

These people are the ones who seem to have decided that expectations were not useful in navigating their way through the project. Or at least, ‘fixed’ expectations weren’t helpful. These people allowed their expectations to shift as they found out more about the piece. They sent passionate emails, SMSes, MMSes and wrote beautiful posts on the website. For these people, Fortnight was magical.

There was one other (small) group of people who started Fortnight with a set of expectations that were related to ‘theatre’ or a ‘festival’. Some of these wrote not very nice (or accurate) blog posts which had at their heart a fundamental expectation that Fortnight might flow the way a theatre piece flows, which it, of course, does not since it isn’t a theatre piece. This isn’t to say that their critiques are invalid because they are completely right to express their experiences/opinions. What feels a shame, from my perspective having worked incredibly hard for a year on the project, is that the expectations that these people went into the project with do not match with Fortnight’s aims, or the spirit of generosity in which it was offered. It’s a bit sad, more than anything, to know that some people simply missed the point. But, that is their prerogative and I am learning not to expect everyone to get it (it’s only taken 15 years of making work… ).

Most confusing (from the perspective of understanding expectations), and maybe interesting of all are the many private messages we’ve been receiving about how the project impacted people. I don’t know what their expectations were when they started the project, but here is a snippet of what they’ve said at the end:

“[I loved] the sillyness. Which I think serves as a poignant reminder to all these arty/critic types (sorry if you are one of them) who are far to arty to partake in activity which is silly. Cleary they have forgotten where creative ideas come from in the first place. I felt it was a small kind of triumph.”
“It's been an amazing 2 weeks, I am so glad I signed up to Fortnight. It did feel odd today not to have a mission to complete, it's funny how quickly you get used to something.”
“Fortnight has been utterly magical. I've loved the tasks (although some have made me cry) and the texts and emails have been a little touch of beauty in a world which can seem a bit much sometimes. I can't think of anything I didn't like.”
“I loved slowing down, looking at things through duck-y eyes, the encouragement to ponder on things which I would normally never think about. Really felt like a new part of my brain and my senses were coming to life!”
“Thanks fortnight. You made a real and positive difference to my life.”
“I've loved every minute of it! I especially loved the start”
“On an individual level it's been like therapy. Nothing less than transformative.”
“The only other thing I would say is the advert (in Mayfest magazine) didn't 'sell' it. I was unsure about whether to sign up from that advert. It was such a great experience, I wonder if that could be conveyed more if something similar was done again.”

That last one, there it is…expectation again. A good lesson for us to refine and revise how we talk about the project before it starts to set those expectations a bit better (although, interestingly, another participant said they thought the pre-information was spot on).

A few days ago, I sent a tweet, which said something along the lines of ‘you can't satisfy everyone but that doesn’t mean you should stop trying’. I got a response from a good friend asking if I was joking – possibly insinuating that trying to please everyone is not a good idea. There seems to be a popular notion that if you try to please everyone in your audience (or participants, in the case of Fortnight) the work will fail because it will be so generic as to speak to the lowest common denominator. I think that is a lazy and selfish way of making work. I think we should try to please everyone by making sure the work we make speaks for itself and is accessible (in the sense that it is self-instructing, that it tells you how to deal with it). I don’t think we should dumb the work down or make it generic. For me, the desire to please my audience (or participants) is a fundamental part of the very hard job of being an artist. I am not making work for myself (no more masturbatory art, please) but for a public. Sometimes that means I feel a bit like crying or screaming when my generous offer isn’t received the way I had hoped it might be. But, most of the time, it means I can sleep at night knowing I may not always succeed but I always work hard and smart. I refuse to give up or give in to the seductive potential of making work which is simple, easy to describe, or easy to manage. I am happy to be making work where expectations are difficult, even if I would really just like a ‘well-done’ from time to time.

Remote Viewing

noreply@blogger.com (Andrew Westerside) — Fri, 13 May 2011 19:43:00 +0000

Hello, friends. It's been a while.

As I write this, half of the Proto-type crew (Gillian and Peter), are down in Bristol putting the finishing flourishes on to the world premiere of Fortnight. As part of this year's Mayfest, they've been weaving a two-week long, dispersed platform narrative alongside a bunch of keen-spirited Bristolians.

Because of a rather serious illness in the family, which is keeping me tied to home, I've not had the pleasure of joining in, and that leads me to some of the reflections in this post.

Right before the piece kicked-off, I did a little bit of voice-recording from up here in Lancaster, and I found that particular connection quite fascinating. (Really, Peter is the expert on these ideas, because he's worked remotely with choreographer Tiffany Mills on more than one occasion, attending and directing rehearsals via Skype across the expanse of the North Atlantic.)

You see, that little slice of involvement got me to thinking about how one might approach this piece in terms of a critical dramaturgy. In a more conventional process, the dramaturg can attend rehearsals, flick through notes or replay video, and there's a a tangible, material connection to the world of the work, most often framed by the concreteness of the rehearsal room.

But in terms of Fortnight, with a narrative which plays out in a sphere of hyper-subjectivity, that is, within the fabric of one's own daily, personal, and indeed private, life; and one which infiltrates and permeates the media and technologies that at once keep us connected and emphasize our distance, the role of the dramaturg finds itself in a little bit of trouble.

I suspect it's rather like dropping a jigsaw from a plane, and then asking someone in a submarine to tell you what the picture was. In a way, this kind of work demands a reconsideration of how we begin the process of dramaturgy, and following that, what it is we mean by dramaturgy proper. As a remote viewer in this piece, informed but not performatively invested, conceptually engaged but materially distant, my meditations and reflections start to take the form of a criminal profiler: filling in gaps, making assumptions, assuming a psychology, and a phenomenology of a piece I simply can't know.

But while that seems to problematise the experience, I'm finding it to be a genuinely unique and creative one, where I feel like a 'second' spectatorship; neither here nor there, entwined yet not, culpable yet not. Like a remote viewer, I'm reaching outwards, further than is physically possible, in an attempt to locate something that I can only understand in terms of 'not belonging', of being other. From that marginalised position, I begin to mediate and interrupt the dialogue of the work with my own fetishistic appropriation of what's happening 'over there'.

It's been an interesting two weeks, and something I'd like to give more thought to in the future, as Fortnight moves on. For now, though, I'm just really eager to get back in to the action.

Something lovely is coming to Bristol...

noreply@blogger.com (Peter P) — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 12:17:00 +0000

www.fortnightproject.com

Lost and Found Festival- Call for ideas

noreply@blogger.com (Nick) — Fri, 11 Mar 2011 17:56:00 +0000

Here at Contact we just wanted to remind folks that they have just over a week - 18th March - to submit ideas for Contact's up-and-coming Lost & Found Festival!

We're looking for artists to submit ideas for performance and art which takes place both inside and outside of an venue - site specific performance, devised work which gathers information from the outside world, performances which take place on digital media... innovative and surprising ideas are all welcome! Sounds interesting? Well please do read on...

LOST & FOUND 2011

From Monday, June 6th to Saturday the 11th Contact will host the very first Lost & Found Festival 2011! We would like you to tell us how you would like to get involved with the festival, whether that be through a one-to-one performance, an interactive installation, anything!

Lost & Found is a festival which examines the idea that art and inspiration is found in unusual situations, locations and interactions. We are looking to curate pieces which allow audiences to stumble across art in everyday situations; lose themselves in a piece, in a place and may allow people to find that they are part of the performance.

This intricate and inspiring event will be layered with a pick-and-mix of pop up performances, taking place in various locations around the centre of Manchester throughout the week. The festival culminates in a final day of performances and art works which take place in the Contact building, having been inspired or created from collected images, stories and data from the outside world and from the subsequent week of creating around the city.

The festival will essentially take the form of two parts:

Part I
Monday - Friday Lost & Found will be staged around the city-centre at various outdoor venues:
PiccadillyGardens
A Northern Quarter Cafe
St. Peters Square
A Metrolink Tram
MediaCityUK

Part II
Day-long event at Contact throughout the entire building.

So with this in mind we would like you (although it is not absolutely required) to come up with a two part idea. One to take place outside of Contact, and the other to take place inside Contact. These can act as companion piece or as one being a response to the other.

Creative works may cross the boundaries between theatre, art, photography and digital media and in the process opening new creative opportunities and collaborations.

The idea of ‘Lost and Found’ is not only used as a curatorial theme and a spring board for discussion, but also a tactile image and framework for the event – an event which is like a lost and found box of hidden treasures. We would really like you to take this idea and run with it.

For this submission process we will be taking your ideas via e-mail until the closing date of Friday, March 18th. From there, we will have a Pitch Party at Contact on Tuesday, March 29th at 7pm @ Contact in Space 2.

If you have any questions about the festival, the submission process or any other inquiries feel free to ask.
You can reach the festival team at LostAndFound@contact-theatre.org

The members of Contact's premier young producing and programming scheme Re:Con are the creators and organizers of Lost & Found.

Thank You, Good Luck and Start Pitching!

Re:Con

Current Events and forthcoming deadlines for Opportunities

noreply@blogger.com (Nick) — Fri, 11 Mar 2011 17:43:00 +0000

Check out these events and approaching opportunities from the New Work Network:

---- Opportunities ----

* NWN Board - Call for Recruitment of New Trustees *

Do you feel passionate about the role NWN plays for artists? Would you like to be part of New Work Network’s decision-making process? New Work Network would like to recruit one of our artist members to the NWN Board of Trustees.

For more information please see the full listing of this opportunity in the

Members Area

Deadline for Applications: Wednesday 16th March 2011 at 5pm.
Shortlisted applicants will be invited to a Board Recruitment Evening on Tuesday 22nd March from 6 – 8pm

Applicants will be shortlisted against the relevance of their skills, experience and approach to strengthening our board and maintaining our commitment to professional development and artist-led culture.

* Call for applications - Information Highway - Mentoring Scheme *

Call for applications from mid career artists in the East region*.

Lead artist Gary Stevens will work with a mid-career artist to develop their practice through mentoring and support over a twelve month period.

Deadline for Applications:
Tuesday 15th March 2011 at 5pm.

Interviews will be held at Colchester Arts Centre, Church Street, Essex, CO1 1NF on 22nd March 2011
To view the full listing of this opportunity please click HERE or contact the activator coordinator for an application pack on activatorcoordinator@gmail.com
This forms part of a commissioned programme of activity created by Caroline Wright on behalf of New Work Network’s national Activator programme and Colchester Arts Centre’s Escalator: Live Art
*By the East region we mean Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire, Essex, Hertfordshire, Norfolk and Suffolk.
For more information please see the full listing of this opportunity in the Members Area

--- Events ---

* Talking Shop is Talking Trash *

Tuesday 15th March 2011 - 6 - 9pm
ARTS CAFÉ, TOYNBEE STUDIOS, 28 COMMERCIAL STREET, LONDON, E1 6AB

Open advice sessions and networking opportunities with New Work Network, Live Art Development Agency and Artsadmin (the Live Art Advisory Network)

The next shop will be guest hosted by Scottee, the iconic tradher-performer and artistic director of Eat Your Heart Out.

More information on this event and how to book a place please click here

* Mad Artists’ Tea Party 2: Bedford *

2-5pm Saturday 9 April 2011

Hosted by Tania Harrison (Curator of Arts Stages at Latitude Festival)

An afternoon of meeting, eating and performing for artists based in the East of England working in new practice and Live Art/ performance.
This second in a series of tea parties will by hosted by special guest Tania Harrison, Curator of the arts stages at Latitude Festival, and will consist of discussion, presentation and workshop activities.
It’s FREE and all are welcome so please come and join us at Mount Zion Pentecostal Church (upstairs hall) 145 Midland Road, Bedford MK40 1DW.
Please get in touch if you would like further details by emailing Caroline Wright on eastactivator@gmail.com.
More information on the Activator Programme click here and for further details on this event please click here.

Flare Festival - Call for performances

noreply@blogger.com (Katie) — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 15:05:00 +0000

Call for performances

Flare International Festival of New Theatre is currently accepting applications from emergent theatre makers and companies interested in presenting work in some of Manchester’s leading studio theatres, 4-9th July 2011. The deadline for applications is 8th April.

Intended as a biennial celebration of the best radical new theatre being made by Europe’s next generation of theatre makers, Flare is a new festival for Manchester, scheduled alongside the Manchester International Festival.

Full details and application forms are available on the website www.flarefestival.com

Company Mentorship Scheme 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Katie) — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 17:22:00 +0000

Proto-type Theater is delighted to announce a wonderful opportunity for one emerging young contemporary theatre/live-art company in Lancashire.

With the support of Lancashire County Council, Proto-type Theater will provide a one-year mentorship to graduate companies who completed their studies in or after summer 2008.

The 2011 Mentorship Scheme is designed to offer both emerging companies and prospective companies the chance to learn, through experience and resources, the creative and organisational aspects involved in establishing a touring company with a focus on theatre and live arts.

In the mentorship, we will offer:

• Monthly training delivered by company members and outside experts, focusing on: general company administration; successful marketing strategy and evaluation; working creatively with local communities; developing and delivering educational workshops; producing theatre, and fundraising.

• A showcase event at the end of the year for the graduate company to perform their work for the local community, key venues, and funding partners in the county and the North-West region.

• Desk space in our office, access to rehearsal space, equipment use and facilities, monthly meetings with the company, a yearly bursary and detailed feedback at work in progress showings.

Over the course of the scheme, the graduate company will:

• Create at least one piece of touring theatre
• Develop a venue pack
• Participate in the design and execution of our winter school
• Develop a mission statement and artistic policy
• Conduct at least one outreach project in one of the Lancashire districts
• Develop a website
• Draft an application to the Arts Council’s ‘Grants for the Arts’ for a future project
• Submit a report one year after the scheme that tracks their continued progress

The chosen company will be required, by the terms of the scheme, to live in Lancashire for the duration of their time with us. If you are unsure whether or not you/your company is eligible for the scheme, contact us, in the first instance, at admin@proto-type.org.

To apply for the Proto-type Theater Mentorship Scheme request an application pack from admin@proto-type.org

Deadline for applications: Tuesday 15 February 2011

Interviews: w/c Monday 28 February 2011

Proto-type Theater Mentorship Scheme is supported by Lancashire County Council.

Third Person: Bonnie & Clyde (Redux)

noreply@blogger.com (Katie) — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 14:38:00 +0000

New Year greetings from Proto-type Theater.

Third Person continues after sell out performances in 2010 at Nuffield Theatre, Lancaster, Axis Arts Centre, Crewe and the Arches, Glasgow.

Two dates for your dairy in 2011.

15 February 7:45pm Warwick Arts Centre
17 February 7:30pm Rose Theatre Omskirk

During the great depression, young lovers Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow went on an infamous three-year spree of bank robbery and murder, which ended abruptly in 1934 when they were ambushed and killed by police in Louisiana.

Nobody knows all the details, but their violent love story has become legend worldwide. Through evidence, personal stories, rumours, re-enactments, videos and drawings, the electric meeting of Bonnie and Clyde is retold, exploring the motivations that drive our fascination with the life and death of these notorious lovers.

"Proto-type Theater's Third Person: Bonnie & Clyde Redux is a charming, lyrical attempt to redeem two of history's most notorious murderers." - Kultureflash

For more information on Third Person click here

SNOW

noreply@blogger.com (Nick) — Tue, 07 Dec 2010 19:18:00 +0000

Last week I was introduced to my first proper experiences with this year’s wintry weather and, though I’m aware that a blanket of white across the North of England is hardly worthy of being deemed a natural disaster, I was reminded of how something seemingly so trivial can have such a huge impact on society.

Having had the same weather-related problems as many others last week (cancelled trains, closed roads, falling over, getting ill .etc.) I couldn’t help but think about the fine tightrope that society balances on to function. How something so primeval and literally brainless can tangle the intricate networks and systems (I’m talking mainly here about transport and communication) that we absolutely depend upon. I guess it was one of those take-for-granted-style epiphanies that we have and then forget about forever.

It seemed to me that in the process of covering the man-made streets, pavements, train tracks, buildings and roads in a seemingly ancient material, it paradoxically seemed to uncover and expose the brittleness of the infrastructure of society.

The new, soft, white de-familiarisation that greets the freshly opened morning curtains against the greyness of yesterday’s urban landscape becomes some kind of icy femme fatale; alluring, beautiful yet quietly bringing the promise of destruction and chaos after we’ve woken up next to her. Perhaps I’m overreacting a little. Or perhaps I’m not. To use the familiar contradictory language of the tabloids, it appears that the perceptions of a “winter wonderland” and a “big freeze” can co-exist side by side.

As the icy days draw on, the media will quickly turn on the misunderstood white cloak while the rhetoric of the morning papers, newsreaders and worried mothers turns to weather-related phrases containing the word “treacherous” in them. The infamous Daily Mail greeted us this morning with an article title exclaiming that “The big freeze…threatens Christmas…” as though Christmas was some kind of endangered bastion of society prevailing against the inhuman force of the weather. This was proceeded with five bullet points:

“• Hundreds of drivers trapped between Edinburgh and Glasgow
• Pensioner's body found in snow in north-east Lincolnshire
• Two cyclists killed on same road where two teenage girls died last week
• Death toll of winter weather up after man dies clearing snow
• Warnings of icy roads and freezing fog across UK
• Flight cancellations at Liverpool's John Lennon Airport”

Despite the fact that there appeared to be a subtle bathos (though I doubt it was intentional) building up to the final bullet point (hundreds of trapped drivers, a pensioner's body, two dead cyclists, the rising death toll, freezing fog, and a “flight cancellation in Liverpool’s john Lennon Airport”), this information seemed overwhelmingly grim; especially coupled with the Daily Express’ ridiculous “NOW FOOD IS RUNNING OUT” headline last week with the zombie-film-esque image of a rather impotent looking empty bread aisle in some miscellaneous branch of Co-op.

But why all this scare mongering? I guess, the weather is something that we can all relate to; something that affects each and every one of us; and therefore something for which we can fall back on socially when we “talk about the weather”. Maybe the papers moan about it so much because they simply don’t have anything better to say to us anymore, or at least anything we would rather hear. This is why (I hate to do it but it would seem a bit daft not to with all this talk of blissful ignorance) I quote Eliot;

“Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow…”

Fingers crossed for a white Christmas …

Nick

From Somewhere, With Love

noreply@blogger.com (Nick) — Fri, 26 Nov 2010 20:17:00 +0000

Having been one of the few students these days that seems to have missed out on the whole "gap year" lark, I felt that a gratuitous, altruistic trip to a desolate part of the world should be due some time soon. However, can I simply make a decision to travel somewhere purely based on the motivation of a contrived, yet heart-felt, charitable adventure? and if so, where? Which barren part of the earth deserves a Westernised English and Drama graduate to help bring peace and/or aid to their land the most? The list is endless...

Unable to placate this moral quandary, and in order to go somewhere "different", I have chosen (I think) Chernobyl, or at least Pripyat (the -now abandoned- city used to house the Chernobyl nuclear power plant workers prior to the 1986 Chernobyl disaster, and advertised on many of the tourist websites as "The Dead Town". Tasteful). They now run tours apparently. For a price, you can wander for hours around the deserted schools, houses, hospitals and post-apocalyptic streets taking trendy, futile photographs of empty swings or unmade beds. For the full experience, it is recommended that you bring your own dosimeter (a bit like a Geiger counter from school) along for the ride, to gawp at the amount of radiation you're being exposed to, and then tell your mates when you get back home. You even get lunch thrown in too!

Now I have a new plan for the summer; something for which to save my otherwise squandered pennies. However, in true "gap year" style, the question arises of how I will make the trip worthwhile? To what will this contribute? For whom will this be helping? Will I "make a difference"?

The answer is no. For there is no one there.

Maybe I'll get the tshirt while I'm there...

I write this, my first Proto-type blog post, as the new administrative assistant with the company. The position has been created with the help of the Future Jobs Fund and, having recently graduated from university in the summer, I feel extremely lucky to embark so soon on a career journey into the arts on the good ship Proto-type. Having only just started last week I am still feeling my way around, but I am enjoying this settling in process thoroughly, and am excited to get to grips with how the company operates. I am currently undergoing a training course with PANDA (Performing Arts Network and Development Agency) which has given me a chance to interact with others who are working at various other arts-based companies in Lancashire with similar FJF-funded positions to mine.

At risk of sounding cliched, but with no better phrase to hand, I feel I will have a lot to learn, but a lot to give during my time here.

Until next time.

Nick.

*Proto-type Lab*