Human movement is far from simple: power

January 11th, 2011 by Alexandra Baybutt

Melissa-Woodbridge-Margar-007
Photograph: Tristram Kenton

Alongside director Frances Loy and the cast, conversations around power, strength and command of self/others/environment led me to dwell on the creation and physicality of power.

There are so many types of power and control as well as multiple ways of gaining and losing it. If I compare an assertive, bold mode of communicating with a more quiet power, I cannot help as I sit here and write, 'try on' these qualities, postures and physical attitudes.

Of course, the need or desire for power is context-driven, with a fight or flight response lurking in the background. Growing or shrinking, or going towards/away as a result of something or someone in the environment, or to internal thoughts, are processes we don't always pay attention to, but were useful global concepts to play with whilst supporting the cast prepare for A Doll's House. (In Rudolph Laban's terms, this is the category of modes of Shape change, the process of creating relationship).

How much space do we take up, how much space do we allow ourselves to take up, what zones of the space around us do we continually expand into, reinforcing that dimension or area? All these choices, conscious or not, feed self-perception of presence and power, as well as communicating to others about how much or little impact we wish to make.

We are implicitly and explicitly encouraged to move in certain ways, as suits the micro and macro socio-cultural time and place, and the expectations of gender and class, we are born into. And whilst individually we have greater access to certain ways of moving than others, we all have potential for movement qualities we don't necessarily think are 'us'. Aspects of a shared physical heritage or palette, though honed and sheared in different socio-cultural times and interpretations yet spatially and temporally eternal, are reawakened when you begin to explore how it feels to move as someone else, in another gender or collection of characteristics. You really are exploring your own potential for configuring movement choices. Getting to explore and access new and difference ways of moving is extraordinary and rather than separating 'parts' of yourself off, your conception of yourself increases as you gain more choices. And with choice, as an integration of body-mind, going from coping with an environment to having more power in any circumstance is indeed empowering.

Coming into a sense of your own weight and breath is a pre-requisite for presence. How easily mere presence slips over into something else: domination, reliability, objectification, availability for communication. Power when integrated feels distinct to the impression of power, which appears more forceful and aggressive: we can sense it.

Let's look at taking up more space and reinforcing that part of your personal space you choose to fill.

Take your attention to your collar bones and breast bone and as you breath slowly imagine this area widening and advancing slightly as you inhale. As you exhale allow your chest to return, but imagine you are still the volume  that you were when you inhaled. Don't inhibit any movement but don't force it. Feel the width across your shoulders. What does this feel like?

I feel a sense that I can take my time and there is something reassuring and straight-forward about making decisions. The space in front of me is mine with a sense of authority, and I can luxuriate in it at my own pace. Any quicker with the breath and tempo and a feeling of defiance might creep in, perhaps with more desperate assertion. Or maybe it's pride. Or warmth towards something or someone. The list continues. One thing's for certain, my heart can't help but move with this action and it is not singular in its expression.

Increasing your pressure on the ground may increase conviction, whilst lowering your centre of gravity makes level and direction change easier as well as making it harder for others to push you over. These conceptual-emotional aspects of gaining and sensing power, regardless of gender, are physically tangible and were included in my rehearsals with the cast, as well as spatial dynamics and tensions.

Walking from rehearsal to the tube crystalizing their masculine roles, some of the actors reported that people stepped aside to make way for them, rather than a more habitual (and also enjoyable) nimble weaving in and out of available gaps. How easily movement changes relationship. As a title, 'body language' is insufficient: it implies static form, yet it is the process of motion that tells the story, regardless of the degree of motion. Mere breath is a gesture, and in this production the audience is so close as to feel it.

Something becomes a cliche when we've seen it too much, so in response to the comment in the Independent that 'Torvald's ''masculine'' body language can look cliched', I offer this. The physicality that Margaret-Ann Bain employed for her interpretation of Torvald was perhaps recognizable as something potentially archetypal for it to be interpreted in the pejorative terms the Independent chose. An archetype of alpha dominance? Maybe we've simply seen too much oppressive, patriarchal, possessive, class-based superiority, domineering posture-gesture activity in the physicality around us for it to appear unusual as movement choice. By women playing male roles, it forces us as an audience to see it anew, and hopefully, to stop taking it for granted.

Alexandra Baybutt, Certified Laban/Bartenieff Movement Analyst

Buy tickets to A Doll's House here


In today’s news …

January 3rd, 2011 by Margaret-Ann Bain

What with rehearsals, Christmas and New Year it’s been a busy period and as a result I have found myself seriously lacking in any awareness of what is going on in the world outside of Picton Place and my house. So having a spare five minutes today I was casually perusing the Guardian website when I stumble upon the list of New Year’s resolutions Jane Martinson has compiled from various well-known women. I was particularly struck by that of Deborah Coles (co-director of the pressure group Inquest) “ As the mother of a 12 year old daughter I hope that the politicisation of young people means being a feminist will no longer be a term of abuse in the playground”.

I first encountered Ibsen’s A Doll’s House as an A-level student within a typical example of one of our country’s many all girl educational institutions ... here being called a feminist in the playground would ... never have happened. Politics and feminism could not have been further from our minds as adolescents in the late 90’s ... at my school anyway, it wasn’t until I was well into my University course that I became properly aware of the theories behind the various feminist movements. What with the economic and political turmoil our country and the wider world has suffered of late it has been reinforced to me just how timely our production and its message may be,  as more and more people, the younger generations in particular, are forced to take an interest and fight for their rights as the world changes around them. We have a number of school parties coming to see our production, and I now find myself very much looking forward to the post production Q&A’s, I am hoping we are to be challenged with some very interesting questions by today’s students.


Walk like a man… talk like a man

December 31st, 2010 by Melissa Woodbridge

The song has been going through my head for the past week or two - mostly since having Ali are genius movement director playing with us.  Not in that way.  And now.... thanks to Kat's marvellous work, we are suited and booted and raring to go.  Having the costume really makes the process of manning up a lot easier - and no, there are no rolled up socks involved!

Mercury Fur – Ready and Waiting

February 11th, 2010 by Frances Loy

Mercury Fur First Night
Photo courtesy of Philip Ridley, taken in final Dress Rehearsal, 09/02/2009

Mercury Fur first night report by Director Frances Loy

It's a terrifying thing, stepping out of your comfort zone. For two and half months our space has been sacred. We played, shared, experimented, failed, picked ourselves back up and started again. We've debated endlessly the merits of choices, discussed and been saddened by research materials, worked our bodies, minds and very souls to breaking point, with a few bruises along the way. And last night, we finally shared it with Outsiders.

Our audience members were still in the bar when the actors and I emerged post-show - always a good sign! And the response has been overwhelming, from those who've seen the show before, those who've only read it and (most importantly) those who have had no previous experience of Mercury Fur. Our story is clear, always my massive priority. The space doesn't just suit the work - it adds to the claustrophobic atmosphere with someone even saying this play isn't meant for a traditional theatre - it needs to be seen, warts and all, in this sort of space. Gasps were heard in the right places, a few titters that we can build on - and tears were flowing before the final blackout.

We still have work to do, but it's exciting work because it involves every member of the audience who walks through the doors. We've left the safety of our enclosed rehearsals but in laying ourselves bare we can now share the story with the people it was created for, and let it grow in their response.
We have stepped outside our comfort zone - we invite you to join us.

Buy tickets here
Read more about Mercury Fur

I love you so much I could burst into flames

December 28th, 2009 by Frances Loy

We await the news that our keys to our new space are awaiting deliverance; after a heart wrenching couple of months in which we turned up to see locks being changed, fought to keep the Christmas Festival going, had an emotional party farewell to 295 Regent Street and carried bar pieces, flats and other huge pieces of wooded contructions up the slippery rickety fire escape stairs in the pouring rain (followed by many beers and heart to hearts), the benevolent Great Portland Estates looked kindly upon us and have offered theatredelicatessen a new home and a new beginning - the DIY/Immersive Experience/Squatter asthetic continues to thrive in London's West End, and we have continued stalwartly with our plans to mount the first major London revival of Philip Ridley's Mercury Fur.

I've spent this evening finally finishing the blurb for the flyers, a process that began when I first read, cover to cover, Plays2 by Phil, and is now, categorically, part of the final touches of our marketing plan about to go into overdrive. It's a task that has been difficult to complete until now simply because the play encapsulates so much inside just your own head that you just don't know where to start as a director let alone markteing PR type....and now of course there is FAR TOO MUCH to consider having had read through and two rehearsals with the cast and Phil himself.

How do you deal with a play that draws directly from Rwandan Genocide Survivors, that makes a simple read through degenerate into discussion of pre-GSCE kids going into the army as squadies to get a house and to learn to kill in an attempt to keep them from shooting random people in Tottenham, or revisiting images from Bazra and Kabul of macheted heads lined up outside the homes of their owners while restaurant patrons go about their daily lives, and yet another kid in South London stands up to bullying and intimidation and gets a bullet through his skull as thanks.

How do you begin to work on a play which forces anecdotes and confessions from a small group of strangers about drugs and sex and less rock more roll and suicide stories and bullying in school and being amazed at an ordinary tube journey turning into an adventure from a Robert Louis Stevenson novel - though clearly riding the Circle Line rather than a boat to a Scottish Island.

The thing is Mercury Fur is more about the 9 of us sharing those ideas and ideals than it is about the inevitable comparisons to modern living...the bond we already share, the fear in reviving such an infamous text, the sheer terror in living up to the expectations of the number of people who claim to adore Phil's work, the instant link that sparked between us all in the auditions. It may be a bit far fetched to say we all commit oursleves completely to doing as much as we can to keep the love between us sacred, but an element of fighting for each other and what we believe in, what and who we love must have already been forged for us to jump into the oblivion which will saturate our lives for the next few months.

What is it about the human condition that puts us in emotional and physical acts of violence to create and preserve peace and love and at least what we perceive to be worthy of our love and reconciliation? How far will we go for the people we love? Is there a finite, inevitablility about destroying the people we love most in order to save and protect them? You'll just have to come and see the show to find out...in the meantime, the Mercury Fur company have American Hot Pizza and Apocalypse Now hired...