Monday 19 December 2011

It's not just about the hat...

On Monday 12th December 2011, I became a graduate of the Central School of Speech and Drama, with much gown-tweaking, hat-throwing, men in drag, enthusiastic clapping, and general Drama school, jazz-hands merriment.

It was actually a wonderful ceremony. With both a twin sister and an older sister (Dr. Rachel - who, we have joked, collects universities), my parental group have attended their fair share of university graduation ceremonies, and even they agreed that Central won hands down (it wasn't cold, there weren't long speeches in Latin, even though it was December it was sunny...). It was both a moving and entertaining event; it was so lovely to see so many of my MA cohort again (although sad that some of the international students weren't able to be there) and also to see all of the undergraduates celebrating.


The best thing about the ceremony was that it was a celebration of the arts, and the power of the arts. Both Prof. Gavin Henderson and Michael Grandage gave very powerful speeches, as did those introducing the very exciting Honorary Fellowships: Joseph Seelig and Helen Lannaghan introduced by William Burdett-Coutts; Bette Bourne ('honorary fella....ahem fellow' - what a legend!) introduced by Mark Ravenhill; and Carrie Fisher introduced by Debbie Reynolds.There was a great sense of fun and humour in all of the speeches, and I loved the fact that at least two male students receiving their qualifications were dressed in drag - the PhD student who went through a process which appeared not dissimilar to being knighted was wearing EPIC high heels! Some of the other students, however, could (in my humble opinion) have taken more careful consideration over their choice of footwear, as half my row held their breath as some of the female students tottered their way across the stage. Only at Central can the men walk in high heels more gracefully than the women...

My drama (with a small 'd') of the afternoon was that I temporarily lost my mortar board, and spent the whole of the slightly unusual dance piece at the start of the show desperately scouring the floor and passing notes reading: 'Have you seen my HAT????' Fortunately, we didn't have to wear them on stage, and - with a jubilant flash of realisation - there was a perfect moment to rectify my loss of hat: when all the other students threw theirs into the air with carefree abandon! Ha! Kate once more had a hat. I'm not a bad person; there will have been a spare one lying around somewhere (wherever the hell I left it). And really there's a life lesson there: never throw your hat too high....

On a serious note: the best thing about the ceremony was that it was a public celebration of new talent, a coming together of adults of all ages who are hopefully about to embark on exciting careers in the arts. Maybe even wearing a golden bikini one day and being the subject of a whole genre of male (and female) fantasy. Or just making a difference: entertaining, harnessing the power of the arts, using drama for social and political purposes. It is a sad fact that the arts do not always get the public and political recognition they deserve, but there we all were: all together, clapping til our hands were sore, for students who cared - really cared - about the arts.

I recently learnt from news from the Social Arts Network (SANe) that the Office of National Statistics (ONS) is currently consulting on the first set of national well-being measures, and SANe, Play's the Thing, ArtsProfessionals and the Happy Museum Project were exclaiming their dismay and shock that current proposals do not include specific measures related to Arts and Culture. They stated:

'If cultural activity is to be at the heart of future government agendas, it is vital now that the cultural sector starts to shout loudly about the contribution made by the arts to personal well-being.'

They are working on a co-ordinated response, about which you can read more here.

I take some hope from all that enthusiastic clapping (and some of the jazz hands) last Monday - there is a new generation of practitioners, and some of us are going to try bloody hard to make a difference. Michael Grandage told us to be bold. We will be bold. We need to be.

Tuesday 6 December 2011

The People's Story

Yesterday, I attended a premiere screening at the BFI of a documentary of a project by Age Exchange, a charity which works in the field of reminiscence, running intergenerational projects to bring people and communities together.

I first came across Age Exchange and their work when I was in the second year of my undergraduate degree and David Savill, their current artistic director, came and ran a workshop with my Applied Theatre class. Many of the class hadn't really considered this area of work - 'nah, I'm not really interested in working with old people' - as Helen Nicholson once put it, it's not 'sexy' Applied Theatre: no prisoners or victims of torture, no exciting venue, just an old people's home down the road where you'll have to drink lots of tea and hear about old people's grandchildren. Such was the attitude of many of the class. But after hearing about Age Exchange's work it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that many students left the class fascinated and inspired.

Then in my second term at Central I chose to do a case study on the company for my module on Theatre and Social Exclusion, after attending a seminar on intergenerational practice, as part of 'Age to Age', the Lewisham Intergenerational Festival, and became further acquainted with the powerful impact of their work.

Yesterday, the documentary screened was of a project called The People's Story, a major intergenerational project working with the diverse communities of Enfield and Edmonton. This project spanned 18 months and was run in partnership with London and Quadrant Housing Trust, who manage lots of the social housing in the area and were keen to work on a project which promoted community cohesion. It was a fascinating documentary, by film maker Ivan Riches, and the event was made even more poignant by many participants from the project sitting in the audience, sharing in the enjoyment and excitement of the occasion, and the following Q&A with the directors, funders and participants.

The project had produced a great many products: a theatre piece, film, recorded interviews and visual art; however it felt important to hear at the end David Savill emphasising that the process (which had no doubt been a challenging, yet rewarding one) was far, far more important than the many products. Malcolm Jones, their arts and education co-ordinator, reiterated that their work was never a "smash and grab raid on older people's stories to make a product", but rather a process of mutual respect, trust and generosity.

I know I personally left feeling moved, inspired and full of ideas (hmmm...does anyone know of a secret pot of money I can tap into? Or do I need to consider the soul destroying process of funding app.s?). AND there was a free lunch with amazing brownies! What more could you ask for?

Thursday 1 December 2011

What is a 'cragrat' anyway?

So, the most recent edition to my 'freelance portfolio' (gosh, I do sound grown up, don't I? Well, I did turn 24 this week) is with Cragrats, who offered me a job last week.

Cragrats 'specialises in the design and delivery of high-impact experiential learning programmes', and I will be working as one of their tutors, going into schools to deliver Enterprise Education days. I had my training session this afternoon, and am now really looking forward to my first booking in a school.

And I discovered that a cragrat is someone who climbs mountains. So I've developed my vocabulary as well; I do like learning new words. Like 'apodyopsis' - the act of mentally undressing someone. Which I neither did nor learnt at my training today, but do think it is a rather lovely word.

You learn something new...