November 25, 2012 by wandalusst
I havent had such creative fun with a group for years. Here I am 66 years old, occasionally envying my friends with solo artistic practices and wondering what will happen next in my group creative life, when suddenly I’m in the middle of a wondrous group of women: hilarious, thoughtful and intelligent actors, constantly inventive designers and makers, sublime singing with pianist and a choir, uke, violin and cello players, all playing with lights and toy helicopters, martial arts fights with archive boxes and projections, surgical masks and gloves.
And it’s all the things I love about the group creative life- ridiculous, surreal and rude comedy with serious political and feminist underpinning, wild flights of fancy just for the thrill of it, glorious music, rich poetic words that lend themselves to many and varied transformations. I even got to impersonate a choreographer and do some wonderfully cheesy mass choree!
There were mornings when Trudy brought in her upside down apricot cake and a flying book puppet, Catherine made her famous choc caramel slice and assiduously manned the Flip cams, Jane came with stacks of archive boxes and Rachel brought in images of installations and talked of shadows and shibboleths, white faced geishas and gold glinting thro the gloom. There were afternoons when time leisurely unfolded as we all circled around costume ideas and female contexts of hospitals, convents and boarding schools. Thoughts were considered, suggestions made, then suddenly there was inspiration and action and no-one could be quite clear where it had all come from. Alice made a wig and a collar of white curators gloves, Rachel made a small shadow house where lights shone from every room, books flew, people turned into swans, choirs did aquarobics and played rounders, a beautiful 10 year old girl sang like an unearthly angel, women transformed into men and drove home to their families wearing their fake moustaches. There was shape shifting and book shredding, love and death, rescues, thefts and betrayals. The generosity and the unexpected, uncontrollable power of making art bloomed and ebbed and flowed. Anything seemed possible. Thanks everyone for your good will and good humour and considered reflections. It was invigorating and fun!