Sorrow and Pride

I’ve just got back from St Giles Church where eleven Yew Tree Youth Theatre members performed a piece of devised theatre, written and directed by Gemma, at the Miners Memorial service. They were the youngest and smallest cast to do this in the three years we’ve had the privilege to be part of it, but this didn’t stop them being an absolute credit to themselves and the youth theatre.

The remembrance of miners is of even greater significance this year as the industry has suffered 5 fatalities in this country in the last month…one of them in Yorkshire. As a consequence the bright and vivid colliery banners that are a familiar feature of the service were adorned in black in remembrance. Each year I am humbled by the fact that the material we create a play out of is a way of life for the people who attend the ceremony to pay their respect to loved ones they have lost. The sorrow and pride, often in equal amounts, is tangible in the atmosphere in the building and on the faces of all of those that gather together to remember, to find solace, to celebrate and to mourn.

Having Yew Tree as part of the service is a brilliant thing in a number of ways but one of the most important ones for me is that it ensures that there are young people engaged with the remembrance of miners and the mining community. In the creation of the piece and the attendance of the service youth theatre members are reminded of and learn about this vital aspect of their heritage and how key it is to the foundations of the community they live in now. Aside from Yew Tree there were only two other non-adults in attendance. I have a hope that in someway we are ensuring that the importance of this history is given a voice in the future and that those involved in the mining community see that the next generation genuinely care…

As the service ended and people made their way home we were asked if we would be happy to perform again next year (testament to the courage, talent and sensitivity of the cast, writer and director) and our answer was immediate and definitive as for as long as we are welcome we will readily be there…

The State of the Arts

This week has seen a landmark event in the world of arts with the announcement from Arts Council England of who and what they are going to fund from 2012 onwards.*



Since then I have had many heated debates with people about the nature of funding and the place it has in society…there is no doubt in my mind that the arts in all it’s guises not only enriches society but binds it together. It can repair communities damaged by conflict and deprivation, it can strengthen individuals holistically enabling them to play a positive role in their community. It does this only if it is rooted in true quality and integrity. The extent of good that can be done in the making, viewing, participation and reflecting of art is immeasurable figuratively and unfortunately often literally, and it is this difficulty in measuring the impact of art on individuals and communities that makes justifying what we do so very difficult. The bottom line is that the arts make any society and therefore this country a better place and like anything there is a price to pay for this. In cutting the funding for the arts the government are taking immense risks that will inevitably lead to huge gaping wounds in our precarious social cohesion, in the same way as cutting funding for education, youth services and health jeopardizes projects and services that play a critical role in everybody’s lives.



However I am not someone who thinks that funding should be automatic, that everyone is entitled to it and I am very proud to be artistic director of a youth theatre (and arts company) that has managed to maintain an enviable state of independence. This meant that on Wednesday I had no need to panic, that I didn’t need to worry that someone else was going to be able to decide whether we survived or not. Through a combination of your fees, the generous deal we get on some of our workshop venues, some funded projects and external commissions we have made Yew Tree Youth Theatre as independently stable as it can be. Yes, we are constantly looking out for ways of boosting our income and maintaining that stability but we have a 15 year track record of doing that. Equally important is that on the foundations of that financial independence we create art and arts experiences of true quality and integrity, whether that be our public performances or our rehearsals and workshops.



There’s a sense of pride and accomplishment as I reflect on all of this. I have no doubt that the next couple of years are going to be a real challenge, just as the last one has essentially, but I’m quietly optimistic that we can do it…and I’m certain I’m going to do everything within my power to keep doing what we do…so much depends on it.



*For anyone who hadn’t been aware of this…in response to the cut in funding from the government Arts Council England asked all arts organizations to apply/reapply for funding. Their decision for who should be/shouldn’t be funded and how much they got was announced on Wednesday. Some significant people have had their funding cut entirely, others have had it reduced drastically and a lucky few have been funded for the first time or have been given a raise.

Reflection

I was working in a school recently and as I was packing up after the workshop the head of drama there boldly proclaimed that students can’t reflect and furthermore that we shouldn’t even try to make them. I was almost out the door so I didn’t challenge her but as I drove home I genuinely wished I had.
Reflection is an integral part of all I do as a drama practitioner but perhaps it is best illustrated in my work as director of Yew Tree Youth Theatre. Every single session we do inevitably ends with a discussion about the workshop or rehearsal that has just taken place as a way of getting a clear picture of the progress made or the skills developed or even just the experience that the youth theatre members have had. Equally whenever we share what we have created in a workshop we discuss what we’ve seen, what we enjoyed about it, what impressed us and the possibilities of what could be done with it if we were to develop it. I am in no doubt that this process allows the young people involved to get so much more out of the session than if it was simply experiential. Through discussion not only are opinions developed about both the delivery and the content of what they are observing /experiencing but equally importantly the vocabulary to be able to express those opinions.
Don’t get me wrong there is an important balance to be struck, lots of sitting around talking about things and no action would constitute a deadly dull youth theatre session. For the reflection to be useful the subject of that reflection must be animated, inspiring and engaging. There is however something entirely inspiring about being part of an honest and critical debate about for example, the relationship between actor and audience, the nuances of a complex character or the way an actor held the attention of those watching.
The practice of reflection has, as is probably now apparent, become second nature to the members of Yew Tree Youth Theatre and not just because the opportunity is handed to them but because they actively seek it out. It’s a breath of fresh air from the tick box, guess what’s in teachers head evaluation that mainstream education seems to be riddled with. Youth Theatre members value it so much that they have taken it a step further. Every week one of them volunteers to post up a blog on our site reflecting their week at Yew Tree, this transference into written word develops their reflective skills yet another step. Even more advanced was a recent podcast project where youth theatre members tried exercising their powers of reflection on such diverse fields as economics, politics and education in addition to art.
Returning to my opening thought, I wish I had said to the teacher that to dismiss young people’s ability to reflect is to rob them of their chance to develop an ability to critically appraise their work and the work of others. Equally it robs them of the opportunity to develop their ability to critically appraise their world and the worlds of others. To develop sympathy and empathy, understanding and acceptance. It’s a vital skill not only for artists in the making but equally for adults in the making. The added bonus for people like me is that in listening to their reflections there are so many opportunities for self reflection and so often things I might not have noticed are highlighted with insight and eloquence.

Inspiration...

Being inspired is the most energizing, affirming thing and it’s happened twice this week in such ridiculously diverse ways.

The first serving of inspiration came from a trip to the theatre. I booked tickets last year to go and see Me and My Girl as my first theatre experience of 2011 for a number of reasons: I hoped for a perfect theatrical pick me up in early January, Miriam Margoyles was in it - who I have admired for a long time and I’d just read Stephen Fry’s latest biography and discovered that he was responsible for rewriting the book of the musical. Little did I know at the time of booking that I would come out of the theatre having seen it entirely re-energised and raving about the joyous spectacle I’d witnessed. The production was simply magical, a classic example of the magic created when every single person in the cast, company and crew apply their creative talents to excellent effect. There wasn’t one person on stage who wasn’t entirely in the moment, every moment of the performance. Every single element conspired to delight…from the casting to the set, from the choreography to the band. That’s before you even begin to consider the leads, who employed every aspect of their bodies, voices and imagination to delight the audiences as they told their characters stories through the play.

The second source of inspiration had infinitely more depth and was entirely more sobering. I read “Must You Go” Antonia Fraser’s account of Harold Pinter’s life. It’s worth saying that before I picked it up my admiration of Pinter knew no bounds. I am, in every way, humbly admiring of every aspect of his art – as a director, actor and possibly most of all as a writer. This inside account of his art, his life, his love and his death which included in poignant detail his suffering in the last years of his life left me both inspired and in tears. It was both intimate and matter of fact and only made me admire him more.

So at the end of a weekend full of inspiration I am ready to take on the world, even in this climate of cuts and crisis, even though the prognosis is bleak I’m going to hold on to the belief that with the right balance of optimism, play, intellectual rigour, grim determination, integrity and inspiration magic is made…this is to be my bedrock of faith and from this brilliant things will happen…

“If we’re really unlucky they’ll be on the train”

I’ve known about the Contemporary Music Festival in Huddersfield since I lived with Music students in my first year at Bretton Hall. However despite the fact the festival was always talked about in respectful and admiring tones by my contemporaries, I had never actually been until this Friday when I went to see the opening of 2011’s offerings. I have to admit I had an ulterior motive as in preparation for making a piece of theatre commissioned by The Hepworth Gallery, Wakefield I am taking members of my Youth Theatre to see lots of different performance genres. On the other hand I was glad of the excuse, finally getting to see something in person that you’ve been meaning to experience for a significant length of time is always satisfying.

The opening of the festival this year took the form of a music performance called “Ear Training,” a performance of contemporary music played by a mixture of orthodox and found instruments from trombones to basket balls. It was a promenade performance in front of and within the picturesque Huddersfield Train Station. Three main elements made up the event: the performers, the people at the station to see the performance and the unsuspecting general public who were simply there to begin, end or continue their journey by public transport.

During and after the performance I had lots and lots of questions I wanted to ask about the piece, but they were all the usual ones someone who makes performance would ask. What was the original inspiration? What was the balance of improvisation/composition/structure? How long had the artists been preparing? How much had they considered their set in their process? While I was asking these questions I realised that it would have been much better to be one of the people who were taken by surprise by the performance and experience it from their perspective. Equally they were in fact the most interesting element of the performance. Not all of them reacted favorably, some of them ignored what was happening altogether, others looked interested, others irritated. One woman said very audibly the title of this post as if she didn’t think the players could hear her, like they were on a different plane of reality almost.

We talk a lot about new audiences in this industry and it occurred to me this was a real and practical way to get a new audience to listen to something that they would not usually have considered. To bring it to them and to make it free, to challenge them but not to threaten, to play with socially accepted boundaries but not to rip them to shreds. There is a certain demographic that actively engage in contemporary music events and a large proportion of Fridays audience certainly didn’t fit neatly into this. As a performance I thought it was fascinating…not something I’d necessarily queue up to see and listen to again but thought provoking and therefore inspiring. Like many useful experiences I’m left with far more questions than answers.

In remembrance...

The 10th of October saw Yew Tree Youth Theatre perform an original piece of theatre at the Miners Memorial service at Selby Abbey. It was the fifth service of this kind and its purpose was to remember the men, women and children that have died whilst working in the mining industry.

It’s the second year we’ve been involved and this year, just as the last, I was overwhelmed by the enormous poignancy and depth that surrounds mining communities not only in Yorkshire but across the world.

The service was a diverse event with music from the Maltby Miners Welfare band, speeches from councillors and more importantly addresses from men who have devoted their life to this industry, which was and is absolutely a way of life not just a job. This year there was an added significance to the service with the plight of the 33 trapped miners in Chile remembered.

In amongst these elements was Yew Tree Youth Theatre’s performance within which a group of 16 young people unreservedly invested their talent, integrity and empathy to portray a way of living that has changed irrevocably within their lifetime. It was a wonderful thing to behold as despite the generational apartness everyone in the room was brought together by the sense of community and togetherness that is almost unique to mining.

The journey that the members of the Youth Theatre had undertaken to produce the piece of theatre we offered to miners and their families had been significant. In order to give their performance the honesty it demanded it had been vital that they learnt about a way of life so very different from their own and within that learning had come the realisation that the events at the centre of the piece of theatre…pit closures, the miners’ strike, the deaths of members within this community were far more recent that they might have imagined… that this had happened near them and in their lifetime…Hard lessons to learn but vital when confronted with the still raw grief of the families present at the service who attended to remember their own loved ones…

At the end of the service members of the youth theatre were approached by many of the people who had attended and from dignitary to those less lauded, but infinitely more learned about the community we had portrayed, their praise was both heartfelt and enthusiastic…all of them were both surprised and impressed by the work of the young people. I on the other hand was neither of these things as I take the fact that they are brilliant for granted sometimes but I was proud, proud of their ability to make the difficult journeys and overwhelmed by the enormity of the stakes and the depth of humanity that had underscored the entire event…

"Sometimes I don’t go to school; I go with Dad to the picket line and stand by the brazier for warmth. Mum says it’s no place for a child but I go anyway. I want to try and understand Dad’s world. The hours that he’s away from the house are just as long as before but now he doesn’t come back black with coal dust just weighed down with a battle that’s too big for him. So I go to understand, to stand with the other men whose families like ours are cold and hungry…to hold my Dad’s hand so he knows that if he thinks this is important enough to put up with living like this then I do too…"

What do you bring?

This is not a well thought out offering with a satisfactory conclusion…instead it’s something that I’ve been pondering since a youth theatre session I ran on Thursday…in fact I’ve been thinking about it for much longer than that but I refocused on it on Thursday. It’s centred on the question of what do people bring…and by people I mean everyone…what do people bring as individuals to a creative process?

There’s a whole thing that’s become embedded in my practice…about the youth theatre and drama workshops being a safe space…a space where other aspects of life, other concerns are left at the door. This isn’t original; it’s a mantra of lots of directors and practitioners. I usually give everyone a moment to focus on real life at the start of the session in order that it can be dropped for the rest of the workshop. In theory, as an ambition, that still stands and in part I still stand by it…but in reality, as is often the case, it’s much more complicated than this. The reasons for the complexity are plentiful and some more obvious than the others…but the one I want to focus on is the dichotomy between what we are being a richness we can bring to creativity and the fact that aspects of our selves are what hold us back from being brave, focused and open enough to truly engage with a creative process.

Our story, the one we have experienced up until this time, is one of the greatest strengths we have as an artist, the things we invent are unavoidably intertwined with it on some level…however equally, our stories are the ties that bind us to our fears and insecurities…that stop us being the person and creative practitioner we have the potential to be…One of the joys of working for a long time with people, which is a luxury of my youth theatre practice, is you witness them gradually unlocking parts of themselves to become a more open and developed individual and actor…or writer…or director. However I’m so very aware of the people that can’t let go of some of the things that hold them back…the ones that cling too tightly to the things that imprison them…those are the people I need to do better for…

As I said, no neat conclusion but some final thoughts at this point, in a career long journey I’m taking to understand all of this better…perhaps a better question would be what do we want to bring to our creative process and how do we best meet those ambitions? Which pieces of our story and ourselves are useful to us and which do we choose to cast aside? It’s a process requiring a significant weight of reflection, reflexivity and honesty…but worth having…