Whose doing this Rise Propaganda stuff?

"Whose doing this Rise Propaganda stuff?"

It's the question I seem to ask most frequently right now, because last month I was scrawling through my social medias, and stumbled upon this:

A fan of the band, of Newport and of the grunge-tale-mythos of Kurt and Courtney's engagement, I instantly fell in love with this image. Everything it said, and everything it initially represented. I instantly wanted to know more, but first and foremost I wanted to know who made it.

So setting off on an Internet quest to find the artist behind the art, I very quickly, and very abruptly hit a brick wall, that had a window in the middle of it, and upon climbing through that window I stepped into the quasi-digital/physical world of RISE Propaganda. Like having found the secret passcode to a highly motivated, extremely cool, and eerily welcoming underground organisation I knew immediately that something exciting was happening.

Since then I have kept a close on RISE and have with vested interested trudged the Internet for as much information as I can gather; from their beautifully conceptual website that outlines their peace-through-art ethos, to the Intagram and Facebook feeds, all linked here, so you can follow, explore and get as hooked as I am. I've seen videos of people marching around Newport on the hunt for prized RISE art, and business's like Secret Garden Cafe filled with customers, all intrigued by this subtle, yet subversive protest movement.

 I've even been asked myself a few times if I know whose behind it all! And I've gotta say, as a foreigner to Newport who works to invest and protect it's art and culture, I am deeply honoured that people suspect I might have a single clue, when the truth is I haven't got the foggiest.

Of all the twists in this radical tale, my favourite happened this morning at 8am, when RISE posted this on their Instagram.

The releasing of more anon-art that yet again directs people to local independent traders in attempt to support, spread the love and build a buzz. This time they choose the brand spanking new Black Bear Vintage Emporium off of the highstreet. As a lover of vintage clobber and a seeker of information, I made my way to The Black Bear Vintage Emporium this morning and met the lovely Christopher who runs the place (check out this Argus article). After talking about his awesome stock, talk quickly moved to RISE, and with "the question" at the forefront of my mind I asked: "So... Whose doing this RISE Propaganda stuff?"

His answer? Well, he didn't have a clue. Apparently in the organisation of Friday's upcoming offer he had been communicating exclusively online with no other than ya man, John Frost. I asked who would deliver the goods. Christopher explained that John has got a few Newport cherubs who usually facilitate this kind of transaction; like some Stone-Cutterseque-Illuminarty-For-Good-Sub-Secret-Organisation that moves through the beautifully gritty shadows. I was blown away, and that was that. I had my answer, or more to the point I didn't have my answer and that, right now, is so much better.

In the vein of other influential art movements, RISE Propaganda seems to be working hard to remain anonymous, and simply put, I think that's rad as fuck.

So to you, who ever you are, one or many, I say keep up the good work, keep your yellow and red fist clenched, and remain anonymous. Because when you remain anonymous we are all implicit, the individual becomes the collective and the collective moves the individual. In this; a gesture void of ego or association you make us suddenly aware that we all have to work to achieve and attain peace, love and greatness, RISE Propaganda's job is to light the fuse.

Mucho,

JTC

A Philosophy in Funding

When we started Tin Shed Theatre Co. back in 2010 we didn’t know much about business side of making theatre. We were never taught about funding, or support schemes, we didn’t really know what R&D meant, and we never performed any sort of “work in progress”, we just made things and found places to perform them. We worked two jobs and paid an equal share into our productions to get them off the ground. Five years on, reflecting on our early work methods, the whole thing seems ludicrous, and never something we’d do now.

 We used to perform in bars and split the money we made on the door, which 9/10 times would just go back behind the bar before the night was through. We toured from town to town in a tiny car, rammed with costumes, props and pieces of paper on which we’d written the plays locations to save having to make sets. 5 years on we sit at desks, talk on the phone, send emails and type reams of wordy, eloquent bumpf in order to convince people we’re worthy of their cash. We drink more coffee and less beer, we no longer perform in the grubby backrooms of bars, but in lovely studio theatres, and although never content with “right now” always looking forward to “what’s next” I sometimes yearn for the days of “back then”.

 The philosophy this work ethic developed, I think, followed these rules:

+Don’t stop, just do.

+Talk less, move more.

+Make one another laugh.

+Always surprise the audience.

+Resist buying anything and use what you already have.

+Ignore all and any conventions.

+Turn “we can’t” into “how can we”.

+Never say no to anything.

 This early, almost accidental rule making has stayed with us and although has been slightly amended, has become intrinsically threaded into our work, and even though we now rely on funding and commissions for most of what we do, I feel we still have that spirit of poverty in us, and in a way, I feel our work was better back then. It wasn’t convoluted by the bending of ideas to appeal to the ever-changing demands of funding, or subject to a permanent state of “not-readiness” because we trapped it in development. It was wild and loud and raw and exciting and born of cardboard and charity shops. On some of the larger commissions we’ve had, I’ve been left feeling like the work suffered from an abundance of budget, resource, time, and paycheck, like we were swamped with possibility and prospect. The restrictions we’d become accustomed to, no longer exist.

 Now, don’t for a second think I’m anti-cash, or even anti-funding… Hell, if you’ve got some cash you want to give me, I’ll prove it. I’m also completely aware that some of the greatest work I have seen simply wouldn’t have existed had it not been for the fiscal component that supported the grass roots exploration, or the international collaboration, the initial opportunity or the overall prospect. I’ve seen phenomenal work that cost millions and phenomenal work that cost hundreds.

For me the problem arises when money makes the difference between ‘yes’ and ‘no’ for a young company. Too many times have I spoken to emerging theatre makers who have thrust their hopes into the hands of invisible forces that grant cash on what ever basis. I’ve heard so many ideas that will never exist outside of the types of conversations that evoke them. These early companies are often rejected for having no prior experience, and the result is, they make nothing at all. In the quest for budget, quality, time, space, production value etc. they are stuck on the corner square of the board, scared to roll the dice and make the first move.

 My point is this; I wonder if the current culture of funding, research and development, work in progress, support schemes and fiscally incentive initiatives sets an unrealistic precedent for young theatre makers. I wonder if it dilutes the spirit of “doing it” and prevents the taking of risks.

I wonder if, rather than encouraging the creation of new, exciting work, it creates a vacuum of discontent, in which it never gets made at all.

Mucho,

Justin

Bottled, TigerFace, Pollinate, Other Stuff - 15/10/14

What's it all about?

I don't know.

This week I've had plenty of time to sit and stew and do and not do. It's not only been really nice, but in direct contrast with last week where I moved around more than a hamster at night.

Last week Tin Shed Theatre Co. hosted three nights of funny stuff at a self-made-pop-up-venue in the upstairs of The Project Space, Newport. It was an exhausting, smile inducing, hoot.

So this week I've been on a bit of an inspired and lazy come down from that, poking old projects back into life, playing with plasticine, drinking tea and looking ahead to next week when I start a new project in Cardiff with Matt Ball and Tracy Harris.

Bottled was a work in progress and originally a collaboration between Matt, Tracy and London based Texas born performing artist, Greg Wohead. I'm a huge fan of Greg and his work, and so was dubious about stepping into his shoes, but two meetings in and I've been assured by Matt and Tracy that we're remaking not replicating this work. I'm excited to be working on this in the lead up for it's first performance as part of Experimentica 2014 at Chapter Arts in November.

Looking at life events, occasions, formal-conventions, best man speeches, eulogies, words spoken and words never spoken, bottling things up and perhaps the consequences of not letting them out.

You can see more here: CHAPTER ARTS

Bottled - Press Photograph

Having met both Matt and Tracy (and Greg) at National Theatre Wales Summer Camp/Pollinate in2012, as well as having formed strong friendships with other people who ventured into the wilderness with us that summer, it seems the repercussions of this NTW ran Performance Development scheme are deeper and more unknown than they're initially thought to be.

It was also at Summer Camp that I first tuned into my initial ideas for TigerFace, even though I wasn't their to work on that project. A dude called Simon handed out clown noses and I was immediately inspired to follow my instincts in the making of an anti-clown.

It seems that, that 'pollination' has well and truly been successful and last week I performed TigerFace (aka The Anti-Clown) at Tin Shed Theatre's TRASH, part of ComedyPort 2014.

You can read more about TigerFace in blogs of past: SCRATCH THAT ITCH AT THE SHERMAN

TigerFace at TRASH

Thanks for reading,

Mucho

Justin