DAY 1 - TigerFace Residency at Chapter

DAY 1 TigerFace Residency at Chapter

TigerFace - Fuck You

I know right, I can hardly believe it either. Chapter Arts (big thanks to Alice Burrows) have actually given me two weeks of lovely space to work on my long time "in production" piece TigerFace.

For those of you who don't know who TigerFace is; he's an asshole. Really, a crooked, morally corrupt, miserable, nihilistic version of my inner self loathing self.

Presumably a former Children's TV presenter, TigerFace now spends his evenings re-running his old routines, telling the same old jokes and showing you what he made earlier, much earlier, in like, 1997. The problem is his material hasn't changed and for some reason he's stuck performing to adults, and audiences of people he really can't stand.

The truth is, I still don't know what TigerFace is.

It started off as an access tool for me to try unplanned, unorganised and drastically unrehearsed pieces of something in front of an audience at scratch nights, an opportunity to throw shit at the walls and see what happens as well as develop my reflex ability in the arena of unplanned performance.

I bought the suit for something Tin Shed Theatre Co. was doing at the time, and in a moment of thoughtlessness the photographer on the project (the awesome Dafydd Bland Eminent Photography) caught this image:

Upon seeing this podgy, miserable looking tiger man I immediately became compelled to tell his story and find out how someone with such a joyful exterior could really harness some truly terrifying feelings of bitterness and hopelessness.

Today I spent around 5 hours in the space and accomplished a lot in my head, but very little in the physical. I wrote a tiny bit and moved a tiny bit, but mainly juggled rubber eggs... With little success.

So this is me posting blog one of what will be many blogs keeping who ever is interested in the loop with a piece of work I'm really very excited to be finally making.

I'll be posting regularly on Instagram (it's my new favourite social media platform) so get me there if you're interested: Instagram

Or check out updates on my: Website

Anything else you can email me: mejustincliffe@hotmail.co.uk

For now

Mucho

J

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

Honorary Otter Spotter

Today I sat on the banks of The River Severn and spent a hour or so watching an otter dip and dive above and under the water.

If you've not been to Bridgnorth I really couldn't recommend it highly enough. It's an absolutely beautiful little town that is quant, alternative, ye olde and modern. It's building covered hills lay before you stunning views of a billowing cloth like landscape of bricks and mortar. The scenery is top and the people on the whole are awesome. Also if you like an antique or a bit of vintage tat, this its the place for you.

Tin Shed Theatre Co. are currently here performing Of Mice and Men at the beautiful Theatre On The Steps. It's a place we've regularly performed since starting the company and have over the years built up a reputation and a friendship with.

This blog post is really not about theatre, or Bridgnorth, or otters for that matter. Although it's probably more about otters than anything else.

Today I decided to cut myself off from technology, emails, phone-calls, theatre thought and work. I decided to ramble aimlessly, turn left when it took my fancy, pop into a shop, start a conversation and wander. After doing this for a few hours I ate chips and decided to go and lay by the river for a bit of a sleep. Walking up and down the riverbanks looking for a quiet place to slumber I found a patch and took a seat. Staring out over the luke-brown-river pouring it's way before me, I saw a log floating by. Then the log moved, and the log looked at me, and then the log dipped under the water. Then it re-appeared with a fish in it's mouth. Then it chewed the fish, then flicked it's tail and dipped back under the surface of the water, then I realised it wasn't a log. It was a f**king otter!

I was chuffed. I've never seen an otter before, not in real life anyway. I thought about the amazing co-incidence this must be, to stop at the very spot along the river that the otter is fishing. I was in awe. I stayed and watched it for well over an hour, so I consider myself an otter expert now, and in watching it I found it spent a much greater percentage of it's time under the water than it did above it, and as I couldn't really see under the water I thought about how much more of an amazing co-incidence seeing the otter in the first place really was.

After a while of lonely observation, I noticed woman with a camera taking photos. I'd never seen an otter before, and somehow Tweeting about it didn't seem a big enough sharing of the event so I walked over to her and we started talking about the otter. People spotted me and a woman with a huge camera looking in the river and they began to stop. At first not many, but then quite a few. Pretty soon the otter had a bigger audience than we did on our opening

Eventually the crowed disperse and walked away, and once again me and the lady with the camera we're alone together with the still bobbing otter.

She told me about the people in the local area who try and spot them, how seeing one on any given day was pretty rare. She said that just for today I was an honorary otter spotter. I wanted to ask if I get a badge and a certificate, but we were too busy smiling and then we parted ways.

I said this blog wasn't about otters, and it's not. This blog is about shutting off for a while, wandering aimlessly and discovering what happens when you just let yourself get lost.

What is mainly beneath the surface can suddenly bob up to the top.

Otter love.

Mucho,

Justin

Day 7 - Bulgaria - Sofia - International Art Forum

I always harbour this romantic idea that I will be the kind of travelling-man who keeps a profound, inspired and insightful journal full of interesting thoughts and feelings about being in a new and wonderful place.

It never works out.

I think that can only be a good thing. It proves I have had such little time to sit with nothing else to do. It's not that I didn't want to write a blog everyday, or most days I was here, I just didn't really get the chance.

Sofia is an incredible place. It's always alive and there is always fun, excitement and parties to be had. Alcohol is cheap, food is amazing, the sights and sounds of it are on one hand big bold and beautiful, and on the other decaying with old buildings like relics of a communist past. The streets are foggy, the weather causes every single breath of air to form ghostly mists that seep out when you breath.

Before I get to poetical and wanky I'll try to explain what we've been doing.

This week theatre makers from all kinds of different places (From Iran to Russia, just to offer some kind of spectrum) gathered in Sofia at Alma Alter's theatre space attached to Sofia University, to present their work. Experimental and Alternative were words thrown around for explaining what "type" this work was.

We presented Bottled, a piece that started life in the hands of Tracy Harris, Matt Ball and Greg Wohead almost two years ago. Performing it in Sofia was an amazing experience.

I could talk about all the amazing work I've seen and been blown away by, Polish dancers who's determination and gusto took everyone away, without undermining the beautiful work they made. I could talk about the Russians, who took Tennessee Williams' the Glass Menagerie and put it in a blender of eccentricity, movement and circus. But it maybe wouldn't mean a lot to anyone reading.

What I would like to talk about is the University, the students, Alma Alter, their theatre and the impact it feels like it has on Sofia. The way Alma Alta work is bold and brave and wonderful. It's inclusive, one of the first things they said was "When making theatre, there is no wrong and no right, there is my way and your way, my theatre and your theatre", and from here on in everyone knew they would not be judged or criticised but that all thoughts and feelings expressed about their work would be constructive and just someones opinion. The students who work with Alma Alter are in the more than capable hands of Nicoli (who knew Jerzy Grotowski personally, any Performing Arts Students should get a kick out of that) and Petia, they work on new, exciting and groundbreaking methods of theatre approach.

Th students live in the moment, they commit to everything and most importantly of all they smile. AAAALL THE TIME! They're incredibly happy. Some of them are studying Law and Geography or other subjects, yet they find themselves participating in performance making as an extra, and even though they're not studying performance art, they are welcomed into the fold and feel as part of the theatre as anyone else, and that's the thing. They feel like they own a piece of it. They care about it. They take risks and are rewarded. It's like no other educational establishment I've ever worked in.

Anyway, I've got to board a flight...

Mucho

Day 1/2 - Bulgaria - Sofia - International Art Forum

 Right now I'm slightly tired, shell shocked and perplexed to find myself sat in a hotel room in Sofia ahead of a week of talks, performances and meetings with international artists for International Art Forum, Sofia.

 It all came out of Bottled, a performance-like-something that Tracy Harris, Matt Ball and myself put together in October for Experimentica at Chapter Arts. Paul (Tracy's significant other) was the link, and when I told people I was coming, no one quite believed I could be lucky enough to have bagged another free international excursion, so much so I'm sure some of my friends don't believe I'm actually here, but I am.

 Having just landed in Sofia after a three hour flight from Luton, we've arrived at our hotel, The Ganesh Hotel. It's strange. Stuck, slightly, in the 80's it has a dark-oak, thick carpet romance to it. The building it's self is situated in some suburb somewhere in Sofia, where exactly I'm completely unsure as it's 1am here and we arrived in darkness. Picked up by an enthusiastic theatre student; Marco (who I'm sure I will be writing about consistently in these blogs), his boundless enthusiasm, excitement and energy seems to have fed of what remaining energy Paul, Tracy and I had left. Although he left us with our enthusiasm and excitement.

 The hotel is still. It's scent is that of "old-man" cologne mixed with thick, stale cigarettes, and it bombards your nostrils and paints an image of burly business men walking around the dim rooms in well worn underpants after a day of selling sponges. The elevator, barely big enough to fit two people inside, has it's own persona and it speaks in hum's and whirs and squeaks, like something out of a Stanley Kubrick film. The door shuts violently before you've had a chance to get fully out, like it's lonely and wants to keep you inside it for company.

 Outside on the street a few cars trickle by and seem to slow down, curious of what might be going on inside this old hotel. I can hear the voices of the people in the room next door, and they sound like they're planning something. Nothing sinister, maybe just planning a trip to get more cigarettes, or ask the stoney old Bulgarian dude on reception where they can pick up booze at this time of night.

 This morning I woke up in Cardiff, packed a bag and placed all my trust in Trace and Paul. From Cardiff to Luton to Sofia they haven't let me down. Paul may as well be a Bulgarian citizen, he's been here so many times, even lived here a short while, he's taught us some choice phrases and so far we've laughed and talked about all kinds of stuff. Mainly we've asked one another hypothetical questions about the week ahead: "What do you think the other shows will be like?" "What other countries do you think will be here?" "How on earth did this happen?". It's incredible, really.

 Sad to say Matt couldn't join us, and the performance we will be presenting is something like a version of the something we did at Chapter for Experimentica, what that version is we're really unsure, but it's (to quote Marco) "Fucking exciting" all the same.

I'll keep you posed.

Mucho,

Justin

Bottled - Week 1

Ever been to a wedding where the best man’s speech went too far? 

A funeral where the eulogy told the truth, the whole truth or anything but the truth? 

Did you ever reply on twitter and regret it immediately. 

We've been collecting stories, writing eulogies, making speeches and not apologising. We've been getting competitive, drinking milk and dancing to Kelis.

 For the past week and a half I've been working with Performance Makers, Tracy Harris and Matt Ball on a new piece of theatre called Bottled. The piece was originally conceived by Tracy and London based performance maker Greg Wohead, and was Directed by Matt. They began developing the work last year and showed back a short version to an audience at Aberystwyth Art Centre.

 We've taken strands from the initial processes of this idea, but as to be expected when any new artist is involved in the making of something, it feels like it's become slightly something else. We've been exploring ideas, divulging secrets, bottling things up, telling poo-stories, baring our embarrassing, and exploring the ideas of risk, formality and speech making. What would happen if we could be honest when giving the Best Man speech? What's the purpose of the language we use? What are we hiding? What are we saying, whilst not saying? What we have at the moment is loose in form, with ideas of ideas and inklings being poured from bottle to bottle.

 The piece has been commissioned for Experimentica 2014 and funded by the Arts Council of Wales. Being performed as part of the Experimentica festival, taking place at Chapter Arts.

 If you want to catch Bottled and/or talk to Matt, Tracy or myself then please come along to Chapter Arts on Wednesday Nov 5th 6.00pm - Tickets £5.

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

Scratch That Itch at The Sherman - 20/06/14

Last night I attended (and performed at) Scratch That Itch at The Sherman Theatre, Cardiff.

I was just about to turn Scratch That Itch into an acronym to save myself some valuable typing-time, but I've decided against writing a blog regularly features the acronym STI, as I fear it might lead to a really itchy and bitterly disappointed readership…

So anyway...

Scratch That Itch is an awesomely wild-eyed, open platform, scratch night created, curated and hosted by Brent Morgan (@dextartuk) with support from National Theatre Wales Team (@NTWtweets #NTWTeam), and Sherman Cymru (@ShermanCymru), in Cardiff.

Last night acts from all over the world offered up a host of works in progress, from solo performers to writers, poets to acting troupes, MC's to story tellers and more, and it was amazing to see so many people willing to share their underprepared work with an audience.

Walking in you spot this small and unassuming stage and then the bar area buzzing with people and food laid out feast-like all accompanied by some happy-tunes pumping through the stereo. The atmosphere is warm as the audience gathers, glasses clink and conversations about all things live start going on.

Brent

On a table near the bar is a jar of pens and a collection of hand made books with each artists name on; it's the feedback hub. Brent explains that the audience aren't getting to view the work for free, in return they should offer feedback to the people presenting work, either via these tiny books, or a conversation.

Brent is awesome with his audience and his acts, he doesn't patronise, he doesn't pretend and he doesn't claim to know much of anything, he just guides us through the night until everything has been said, done and spoken about.

      

An old lady dies in a caravan.  

Hi-Tech Refuge-Umbrella.

Spoken word from Zimbabwe.

I went on last and performed a snippet from a larger idea for a project I have been working on called TigerFace.

Since I was young and wanting to be involved in theatre I was "trained" primarily, as an actor so my presence on stage would be typically defined by the words in the script.

When I went to university I began to study, learn and love the processes of devising theatre, this lead me into new performance realms where I could play with the physical and verbal, where words still existed but where they could be loose and almost instantly changeable.

TigerFace is an experiment in form really, and when I started it was entirely different to what it is now. Since it's first showing at The Forge at Chapter Arts (you can read my year old blog entry on the Tin Shed Theatre Co blog page HERE) it has really grown and become something that is about risks we can take in a live environment, it's about the audience and the immediacy of what of whats happening and how that can change almost instantly.

TigerFace

To be honest TigerFace has become a bit like meditation. Trailing these underrehearsed, half formed ideas in front of a live audience, accepting that most of the time I'm not fully aware what will happen, allowing the power of it to shift between me and the audience. It's a tiny pocket of chaos that brims and builds and sometimes crashes.

A short video of an early TigerFace outing...

Having Scratched this character/idea three times now, last nights sharing allowed me to explore more ideas and receive some really helpful feed back.

For any artists, theatre makers, writers, poets, wordsworths, dancers and any other live performance doers who have a seed of something, I'd highly recommend you getting in touch with Brent and asking for a slot before they all fill up.

Viva La Scratch

Mucho

Justin