A year ago today Frontal Lobotomy had its first public viewing, in a preview for Edinburgh Fringe at the Canal Cafe theatre. At that stage the arrival of the 'band' was mimed, as I didn't yet have the props, the doctor character didn't exist, there were three poems in that showing that I no longer use, and two that hadn't yet been written have now appeared. Still, I had a show of sorts. This morning I re-read the review I received from The Scotsman in Edinburgh, that spoke of a 'relaxed and self-assured stage presence.' A year ago that first performance was anything but. The next two previews happened in July, where in the meantime I'd been travelling and teaching in Italy and had done very little towards the show. Still, it had changed quite significantly. Working without a director or any outside input was hard, and I very much relied on my gut, and comments from friends. Without the initial guidance and continued encouragement of Peta Lily, and the amazing support and friendship from Susanna Jeffery it may never have happened. I was mortified onstage in those first two performances, though I feel I had finally got somewhere by the final preview. Edinburgh Free Fringe is great for new shows, I got the chance to really develop Frontal Lobotomy in the moment, and many of the problems I encountered and immediate reactions I received, have ended up contributing to the overall feel of the show. And twelve performances into the tour from December, and numerous extract performances later, it's starting to make more sense to me. I'm much freer than I was at the start, and I've finally realised that it doesn't need to make complete sense, the audience will try to follow me anyway. I've been lucky to receive so much praise for it, but I don't think it's finished yet. I'm taking a break from the show this August to give myself some time to figure out what I want to do with it next.
I added another section. I agonised for a while about how I could work at least one haiku into the show - it seemed I'd referenced every type of poem except for haikus. I thought about finding a haiku on a piece of paper and reading it, or making it into a letter from Dr Freeman from Jeu Jeu, but decided that the audience had heard enough of my voice, and that I would ask an audience member to read it for me. Audience interaction is still something that unnerves me still, it's the part I can't control or plan for, and I have to remind myself that this was what my training at LISPA was really for. The ability to let go and trust myself. Having the Brain Haikus has allowed me to interact more fully, rather than just pretending to lobotomise myself and others! I've been posting the ones that get read out on my facebook profile, and it's become something I look forward to doing, both in the show and afterwards. Brain vocabulary is difficult to pronounce, my hand-writing is difficult to read, and the Haikus make absolutely no sense. But I've had so much fun writing and sharing them for the past three shows by the sea.
It occurred to me today from the conversations I've had with complete strangers and people I barely know who have come to see the show, that many of my audience have taken a complete gamble on me. In the audience I've had mental health practitioners, burlesque fans, neuroscientists, Trump protestors, non-native English speakers, Waits obsessives/virgins/non-believers...I'm very grateful.
Something I attempted for the first two previews, but then scrapped, has re-surfaced again. Tom Waits has an uncanny ability to capture a scene in his writing; I'm thinking of tracks like '9th and Hennepin', 'Circus', 'Potter's Field', 'Small Change.' I tried a similar kind of thing based on my home town, which I'd been coming to terms with living in again, after everything in London ended in October 2016 ('Last October everything turned on a dime...'), but could never quite find it.
I want to collaborate with the use of sound for this one, having done some further research into the effects of music on the brain, I'm not sure I will ever perform it live. It's about a mythical place not far from where I live.
Xx
I added another section. I agonised for a while about how I could work at least one haiku into the show - it seemed I'd referenced every type of poem except for haikus. I thought about finding a haiku on a piece of paper and reading it, or making it into a letter from Dr Freeman from Jeu Jeu, but decided that the audience had heard enough of my voice, and that I would ask an audience member to read it for me. Audience interaction is still something that unnerves me still, it's the part I can't control or plan for, and I have to remind myself that this was what my training at LISPA was really for. The ability to let go and trust myself. Having the Brain Haikus has allowed me to interact more fully, rather than just pretending to lobotomise myself and others! I've been posting the ones that get read out on my facebook profile, and it's become something I look forward to doing, both in the show and afterwards. Brain vocabulary is difficult to pronounce, my hand-writing is difficult to read, and the Haikus make absolutely no sense. But I've had so much fun writing and sharing them for the past three shows by the sea.
It occurred to me today from the conversations I've had with complete strangers and people I barely know who have come to see the show, that many of my audience have taken a complete gamble on me. In the audience I've had mental health practitioners, burlesque fans, neuroscientists, Trump protestors, non-native English speakers, Waits obsessives/virgins/non-believers...I'm very grateful.
Something I attempted for the first two previews, but then scrapped, has re-surfaced again. Tom Waits has an uncanny ability to capture a scene in his writing; I'm thinking of tracks like '9th and Hennepin', 'Circus', 'Potter's Field', 'Small Change.' I tried a similar kind of thing based on my home town, which I'd been coming to terms with living in again, after everything in London ended in October 2016 ('Last October everything turned on a dime...'), but could never quite find it.
I want to collaborate with the use of sound for this one, having done some further research into the effects of music on the brain, I'm not sure I will ever perform it live. It's about a mythical place not far from where I live.
Xx