Performance process – Page 15 – ________-Safe House-_________

The Language of Sheds

Tom Briggs / January 28, 2013May 13, 2013 / Home, Performance process, Rooms

The Garden Shed is “an attempt to create a separate world within a world, over which we have control and the means not only to imagine but to shape” (( Heathcote, Edwin (2012) The Meaning of Home, London: Frances Lincoln, p. 114 )) .

Man has always sought refuge, originally from the elements, building huts over which he had complete control, more recently as huts developed into homes these became the domain of the woman, be it the matriarch or the housewife. The man required refuge from the home itself, an inner sanctum, for some this is the office or the study, but for the everyday man a slapdash construction of corrugated iron and broken down fence panels could become a shrine to all things masculine, a place “for retreating into and thinking” (( Heathcote, Edwin (2012) The Meaning of Home, London: Frances Lincoln, p.115)).

Our sheds stand opposite each other almost mirror images. Their measurements are almost identical a square of concrete 6ft X 6ft for a floor, a single window facing out onto the shared courtyard, a large porcelain basin against the wall that stands on two pillars bare brick like the walls.

Everywhere the sure signs of decay, chipped and peeling paint, years of dust and cobweb are mingled with long dead insects and their living relatives. These sheds do also have their own individual characteristics which distinguish them and their former inhabitants, show the inescapable signs of practical minds in these confined spaces.

Shed A (named solely because it is almost always the first seen) is a bright space, full of the marks of human habitation, the slightly shoddy handmade shelves show a man more interested in function than design, further evidenced by the range of colours that can be seen on the walls. Most interestingly there are pencil marks recording long forgotten measurements for some project or other. These reveal the workings of a practical man, one of precision and detail, the man who builds.

Which brings us to an interesting stand point, the perceptions of man, there has for some time been a dichotomy in the perception of the masculine and inherent contradiction whereby the male creature is equally expected to be builder, protector and all round knight in shining armour and at the same time being suspected a pervert, peeping tom and general sexual deviant.

It occurs to me that this contradiction, and these extremes are incompatible and a solution must be found to reconcile them. It does equally occur to me that a reasonable person is capable of comprehending that to a certain degree these traits exist in all men and equally in all people, but performers are by and large not reasonable people, so I think it’s about time we took these two extremes the peeping tom and handy man and the various materials of their trades/hobbies/perversions locked them all in a room for 16 hours and see what we can be built, what can be corrupted, and where is the balance? If sheds are “Spaces we construct in which to dream” ((Heathcote, Edwin (2012) The Meaning of Home, London: Frances Lincoln, p.114)) what shape will this dream take? These are some big questions and will probably require some further thought, so I’ll be in the shed if you need me.

CCTV- Dance like no one’s watching

Lizzy Hayes / January 28, 2013May 10, 2013 / CCTV, Home, Performance process, Research

For me home is a place where you feel safe and comfortable, not only in your surroundings or company but also within yourself. It is a place where you can be yourself without fear of judgment, where you can do and say the things that others might not appreciate or understand…even if you are only saying them to yourself. I think this is why I am most drawn to the CCTV room on our site- because it breaches the contract of safety and privacy I associate with a home. As I mention in my ‘Meet the residents’ section, the CCTV room makes me feel slightly omniscient, and I’m not sure I like that. We have all heard stories or seen films where CCTV is used in a perverted manner to breach privacy or capture some horrific and disturbing ordeal. These influences make it very easy for us to see ourselves using the CCTV in our performance to create negative or disturbing scenes and use them to inject a sense of unease or fear into our audience.

Image by Jozey Wade 2013

But what if we contradicted the norm? What if we used the CCTV to capture the normal, funny, peculiar little things we all do when we think no one is watching. Again, as I mentioned in my ‘meet the residents’ section, “I have always found human behaviour fascinating, so having the opportunity to see how others behave in an environment where people watching is normally prohibited is exciting: especially when the environment is as intriguing as its inhabitants”. Because you can deny it all you want, but we all talk to ourselves, we all dance like no one is watching, sing like no one can hear you and apologize to inanimate objects for bumping into them. We all do these things when we are alone (and I have only listed a few things) and our guard is down. We do them in a place that we associate with safety and ONLY when we are sure no one is watching, because for others to see us act like that would make us vulnerable.

I believe that scene’s like this could be used very effectively used to create a mood or atmosphere in our performance. They are comic because every one can associate with them: but is it not also disturbing knowing that someone has seen you do those things that no one else is meant to see? Could it instil a sense of panic in the audience who hope no one has seen them like that? Could we watch and see how many people admit to having done the same thing once they know another person has? And would it not contrast nicely with a live performance of a completely different topic or nature?

I know I earlier spoke against using the CCTV for darker scenes but could it be shocking to see one innocent scene turn into one of domestic violence? What if the person on camera wasn’t just talking to themselves in a seemingly empty room?

The Room of Dreaming

Lauren Simpson / January 23, 2013May 8, 2013 / Documentation, Home, Performance process, Research, Rooms

My first impressions of the house were that it already had its own atmosphere. My favourite room, though, was the main bedroom for many reasons. It seemed like the most artificial of all the rooms. The décor was as drab as all the others, but the way it was furnished made it look false. The bedding was neatly made, and the bedside table and lamp were in pristine condition. I instantly thought that this room was hiding something. The distinct lack of furniture was unnerving. The room simply consisted of a bed in the centre, a bedside table with a lamp, and a built in cupboard on the wall.

The bedroom is considered a very familiar and secretive space. Cupboards are also renowned for this, “their doors open onto an ever more private realm of intimate things” ((Heathcote, E (2012) The Meaning of Home, London: Frances Lincoln, p 77)). As a visitor in someone’s home you rarely open a cupboard unless instructed to. In my mind, this makes the cupboard in the bedroom twice as private as anywhere else.

There are three main concepts or feelings associated with a cupboard. The obvious one is for storage. Generally, clutter and mess can be hidden neatly away in a cupboard as long as nobody finds it. Secondly, as highlighted so cleverly by Pixar, children often believe that monsters hide in their wardrobes or cupboards. This immediately sparks the emotion of a fear of the unknown. Finally, thanks to C.S Lewis, they can be seen as a place for escapism. All three of these uses can be either portrayed through performance or they can be turned upside down and contradicted.

To portray storage you could simply clutter the wardrobe with either things you wouldn’t associate with a house or very familiar objects.

“Clothes, the contents of the wardrobe are, of course, intimate items” ((Heathcote, E (2012) The Meaning of Home, London: Frances Lincoln, p 78.))

What if we filled it with even more intimate items to make the audience feel uncomfortable or make them feel like they have breached their rights as a visitor?

The escapism aspect could be shown through dreaming. Once the audience member was in the bed the cupboard could be opened. Inside could be filled with dream like objects, fairy lights, tinsel etc. It could also be effective to have a projector inside that projects footage of a dream onto the wall opposite. This would create a huge contrast between the bedroom and the cupboard and highlight the fact that a cupboard is a hiding place for a person, objects or even for thoughts.

The work of Lital Dotan also gave me a lot of inspiration for performance ideas. She uses the technique of installation in her own home. She opens her own bedroom to the public. She lifts her mattress against the wall every day. “The underside reveals a “personal graffiti wall,” covered in loose colorful yarn stitched to form Dotan’s various notes to self:”(Ortiz 2013)

Dotan’s bed / art project (Photo by Emily Wilson) (accessed: 12/02/13) ((Ortiz, Jen (2013) ‘Life as a Glass House’ Narratively, 25 January. http://blackboard.lincoln.ac.uk/webapps/portal/frameset.jsp?tab_tab_group_id=_2_1&url=%2Fwebapps%2Fblackboard%2Fexecute%2Flauncher%3Ftype%3DCourse%26id%3D_67088_1%26url%3D))

This flips the notion of the bedroom being the most private room in the house on its head. Turning it into a form of gallery makes it the most public space. This is an intriguing notion to look at possibly using for a couple of the performance dates.