On Saturday I performed at the Crypt Gallery in Euston (London, UK) with my friend and fellow performance artist Limor! We each presented a one woman show for over an hour, and both of our shows connect with our most dearly departed loved ones. In my play ‘From the 7th Layer’, my Mother’s voice is heard, talking about her physical disability and how in her dreams she has a young able body. She looked forward to sleeping very much because being able to move easily and freely in her dreams was so incredible. Here is a clip where I imagine her in spirit.
Limor performs several characters in her show, who are all living inside of her, including her departed son Zohar. In 2022 a tragic accident ended his life on this plane, when he was just 22 years old. He was about to begin a Masters degree in Physics, and the only time I met him was a few weeks before he died. It was Limor’s birthday party, and he recognised me from one of my performances (‘Dreamtime‘) he’d watched on video with his Mum. That play was about a group of women friends including Limor, and she was unable to attend live. She felt nervous about seeing a version of herself portrayed by me! Zohar encouraged her to watch it, and said he would watch it with her. He was very complimentary to me about the play, and I found him extremely charming. He was so very smart and positive. The next thing I knew about him, I was at his funeral with the many grief-stricken friends and family. As is the Jewish tradition, the family then sat shiva for a week or so, and I met some of his beautiful friends who shared stories about him.
Limor and I share an interest in the metaphysical as well as creating our own performances. We used to be part of a red tent circle together. The play I performed in 2022 with Limor as inspiration for one of the characters, was a fictionalised story about the red tent group. In it, I had cast Limor as a medium, contacting the spirit world on my behalf as I was having difficulty getting through to a long lost ancestor. My Mother, already passed, was acting as a troublesome guide who interfered with my connection! Luckily Limor’s character Lila, was able to channel my great great aunt (who is the main character in my ‘Bromelia Bohemia’ play.) There is something delightfully anticipatory about our creative journey together.
Meeting up to rehearse and prepare has meant a lot for me, as doing it all on your own becomes limited after a while. You need outside eyes to watch you and feedback. You need someone to discuss the ideas and possibilities with. It adds to the experience of the process to share it with someone who is equally invested. Destiny brought us together for this as we are mutually able to assist each other.
As you get older you can feel further away from fellow performers, let alone those on a similar path. We want to free ourselves from our shadows, which is of course impossible, but we are working with performance as a way of raising our vibration, communicating our essence, and moving more into the light. There is a way that by healing ourselves we may also reach others and help to enable transformation in them. Theatrical performance is our medium. It encompasses being in our bodies as well as working with words, sometimes singing. We want to draw the audience into our world so they may imagine it for themselves, or be reminded of their own inner lives.
There is the art of how much to say, and what to leave for others’ imaginations, and sometimes discerning that is a way Limor and I may help each other. After we’ve told our story so many times, we may lose sight of its effect. The inner work which happens alongside creating, preparing and performing concerns self worth and self love and the development of those. While this is our process, these areas of personal growth are common to many many people, and by expressing some of our experience publicly we may enable or trigger others’ growth. We want to let go of what has dogged us and instead focus on what inspires us and makes us happy. A little contrast is needed to heighten the uplift, yet not excessively. Finding the most enhancing balance is part of how we help each other.
Questions I ask myself include; how does my less than year old show still feel fresh? What is it trying to say? I’m not sure. I would like it to be completely fresh. What do I want to express? Where I am now. Once I play the soundtrack and say the lines, I remember the purpose. It has a quality that transcends total freshness; it seems to stand up artistically, though I might not feel like performing it still in say three years. Let’s see where I am then.
We have rehearsed in local parks in Deptford and Greenwich, as well as Hampstead Heath, and also in the Telegraph Hill Centre. We love being outdoors and the recent weather has been ideal. We feel drawn to create work which is designed to be out in nature and that may be our next project together. The next performance dates we each have lined up are in the Deptford X art festival close to where we both live. Limor’s will be at Co-op Pepys community art project on Sunday July 13th, and mine at the Royal Albert pub on Thursday 24th July. Please join us!
Esther in her opening sceneLimor as the GiantLimor’s costumes were arranged in a spiral on the ground in the order of the chakrasaudience members were invited to become Limor’s characters!tidying up
I have been thinking about how I could make it easy for people to support my work. Joining Patreon is an option, though I’m less drawn to monthly offerings as I don’t think it suits my pattern. I’d rather foster individual relationships with supporters who really dig my work, and arrange with each how to make that rewarding for both sides. Sometimes people want to be a part of some of the creative process, and that would mean a lot to them. I’m thinking a few good supporters or even realistically one or two would work well for me. It’s not the sort of thing you necessarily advertise for; they may organically emerge. Personal connection is very important with my work. That said, I’d happily negotiate smaller exchanges as well which are not necessarily ongoing. This post is about my current work; an update on where I am at; how I support myself; and how you could be involved. I haven’t blogged for a few years so there’s a lot of ground to cover! I hope to share more blogs from now on about my process, so you can get a sense of my practice. Writing about some of my life which is pertinent has always been part of my oeuvre.
I have some performances coming up – Deptford X Festival on 24th July, plus a gig at The Crypt Gallery in Euston suggested as 24th May (tbc). Others may also line up but are not ready to be mentioned. It’s way too early for my above shows to be on either site.
For Deptford X, this is not funded, but I can ask for donations. Likewise with the Crypt. I will put energy into preparing the work, which will probably be the same show for both performances. The venues are considerably different however, and if it were possible I would love to work with a sound artist at The Crypt which is a unique and atmospheric space. That could be essentially a percussionist, or perhaps more appropriate would be a digital soundscape maker. It would suit someone who feels drawn to situating their sounds in the Victorian vaults underneath a church. Stone, arched corridors; crumbling tombs, dark alcoves.
The show I have applied to bring to Deptford X is ‘From the 7th Layer‘. I plan a little remake for it, to keep up with where I am at now. They are primarily a visual arts festival, so I will provide drawing materials for the audience. I don’t pay for venue space (a pub room at the very friendly The Royal Albert) for this one or the Crypt. The latter is a gift from an employer/colleague who runs the Crypt and because it will be free, I won’t be able to confirm the date until about a week before.
With Deptford X, it’s a great way to be part of my local arts scene. The festival has a longstanding legacy of being supported by the Arts Council, so being included in their programme can feel positive for one’s CV. Funding however is not available for me there as I am not a minority*. I am fortunate to live in such a culturally rich area. On the funding side of things I will use my ingenuity!
* Sometimes I tick the neurodivergent box, and because it’s a self-identifying trait, who can tell? When I read a list of characteristics they all felt very familiar. However, being very optimistic and always enjoying what is different about me, I never sought any diagnosis (there are some conditions like autism which do determine neurodivergence). I don’t see it as a problem, just positive to be thinking and feeling in creative ways. Plus I guess, I am pretty functional.
Your support, your money and offerings in kind, may buy me time to do my art or otherwise assist me to further it. I make my life work independently, but extra costs like an impending dental bill, are unavoidable and harder to factor in. Doing too many hours as a life model is counter-productive as it may wreck my body, and the cost of restoring it is far higher than what I earn.
Apart from modelling and performing, I used to lead classes and could do again. I receive help with my rent – universal credit – but I am under pressure to make more money and accept any job. To that end I will probably be working a number of hours fairly soon doing something quite ordinary.
My expenses are relatively simple as I am not drawn to materialism. I don’t think it’s bad; it’s just not my style. My sense about wealth is it’s about personality and individual life purposes. We’re not all wired to be wealthy or even aspire to it. We have other things to do! My life is rich in myriad ways which are rarely about money. The trappings of considerable wealth turn me off, and when I spend time in a rich relative’s 4th home on a far flung peninsula on this planet, the high level security feels like a prison to me. I prefer to be more humble and value connecting with ordinary people. My ways are likely mutually alien to him. While this post doesn’t feel aimed at him, if he or anyone like that wants to be in touch, I am naturally open to it. What I can’t relate to, does spark my curiosity. To see someone enjoying their life, and living it to the full, with a lot of love as well as money, is inspiring, even if the details are strange to me.
My mobile phone is the same one I bought second hand five years ago. It still works and again, I don’t think everyone needs the latest tech. Rather than pay for broadband I tether, and I often find clothes on the street! (My neighbourhood is good for that). Generally I would rather be outdoors in wild nature than pay for an art institution’s subscription (sorry! Plus various friends have them.) Some people would say I flaunt a scarcity mindset, which I have considered but I don’t think it’s that. I truly enjoy simple things and even old fashioned ways. Seeing how people live in “developing” countries (or “emergent nations”) inspires me, and I think we have a lot more to learn from them than we may realise. That said many of them have newer phones than me! I have a rule about following my joy, my inner bliss, and that’s how I know I’m on the right track. Shopping centres repel me, but finding items on the pavement excites me!
Until recently I did have a more exciting life of world travel due to my ex-partner. It was my choice to leave what was a very good relationship. Yet something was missing. I had never been single for more than three to four months since I was 18. I was about to turn 48 and I had been single for less than a year in total in the last 30 years. I decided it was time to come off the roof* and see what happened.
*Coming off the roof is an expression in the Human Design modality, referring to the time in life around middle age for a particular type of person, of which I am apparently one. Such types may come into their own later in life, specifically after the small planet Chiron returns to its starting position when we are about 50 years old. Human Design is an elaborate form of astrology, mixed with the I Ching. There is also a sense of risk with coming off the roof, even as it is a strong pull. Will you grow wings and soar, or gently float; or will you fall and crash? Such people may be carving an untrodden path, and depending on where they are, the world around them may not be ready to catch. Anyway, it’s intensely complicated, but it did strike a chord, and long before I’d heard about it, I had a clear feeling that in order to develop myself further, I would need to be solo.
So I actively chose to let go of some abundance in my life on various levels – love, sex, affection, emotional support, friendship, wise counsel, material resources, travel, a residence outside of the capital, and the true list is far longer… because my internal compass was pointing in a new direction. If complete self individuation is my intention, I would need to stop being so in relation to another person. That feels profoundly correct, yet it is also deeply sad, and at times I can’t believe what I’ve done.
While it is a wrench, I am also very grateful we have been able to navigate the separation and maintain harmonious, respectful, loving appreciation for each other. That’s not exactly a first for me, but it is the first time I haven’t met anyone else, and I have almost zero interest in doing so. My inner guidance tells me I need at least a year, probably two or more, to just be with myself. I am unwinding not only from the last over nine years, but from the last 30 years of intimate partnership. That’s a lot of rewinding and looking within, recalibrating. Peri-menopause for me is a blessing allowing me the hormonal space to be single. For decades I was dominated by those chemicals. Finally I have a chance to be free. Maybe that’s my coming off the roof. There’s no one to catch me but I don’t need them anyway.
On the spiritual side, I can hear my guides much more clearly as a single person. There’s less interruption. I know I must instil that strong connection with them before all else. For the unfamiliar, guides are the mostly unseen beings accompanying each of us from another dimension. They connect us with a higher version of ourselves, and with pure love and light. Even if we don’t know it (or believe it) they are there. This is a belief system which even if it isn’t true, can radically enhance your existence! It aligns with quantum physics in that the multiverse means we exist simultaneously with other versions of ourself. By choosing to focus on our highest potential, we may redirect ourselves in this life. (I’ve forgotten which film that is the plot of.) You don’t need guides for that, but they appeal to some imaginations, and if they make you feel excited about something good, then they are worth tuning into.
Building a fruitful connection with them feels like your intuition being spot on, your instincts serving you well, inspiration leading you to wonderful places, and your dreams leaving you with useful messages. The fantasticalness of spirituality fascinates me, the multi-dimensionality. I imagine it’s our evolutionary impulse, and that awareness makes many lower vibration earth-bound situations feel less troublesome to me. I do see the world in a different, more positive light than I used to.
A note on travel and maintaining my new momentum. It was in early February this year (the relationship separation was over Christmas by the way) an artist I work with told me her paintings of me may hang in an important exhibition in New York in September. I decided I must go, and it would be my first ever trip in my life to the US. I’d wanted to go for ages, especially since reading my American Gramp’s memoirs. I didn’t just want to go to New York, I really wanted to get to Seattle where he came from. And I wanted to see more of the amazing landscapes America has to offer.
So I booked a journey across America by myself in my first year of being single. I kept quiet about the trip till now because it feels very personal. Breaking up is extremely personal. I just kept quiet. My first trip to the US is something very special. It will take me time to acclimatise, and I will be able to focus on my new surroundings and switch on my senses full blast best being solo. That’s something else Human Design gave me solace about. It explained how I operate energetically, and why I need so much quiet time. Like a diagnosis in an astrological reading. I already knew these things, and it feels validating to have them backed up by planets and signs.
The trip is for just over three weeks and I would have loved it to be long enough to really make connections. Maintaining my home in London is also a consideration however. If you want to help me cover the costs of my trip, that would be extremely appreciated. This is a unique experience I am doing on a budget of greyhound buses and single rooms. I don’t sleep well enough for couch surfing to be advisable.
Other ways to help include sharing business expertise, technical support, holiday homes especially close to nature, theatrical direction or video editing for example. What I could offer in return – house/pet/babysitting; art modelling; intuitive counselling/coaching (I am not trained); help with meditation or embodied movement; creative problem solving; a very positive sounding board to help steer you from gloom; tapping into your creativity; helping you follow your intuition. Also, collaborations, venue space and invitations to perform or hold workshops.
I am very excited to be travelling a bit further for the first time alone.
A photo of me by Richard Crawford. I was at the private view of Drawing Humans exhibition at XYZ Gallery on 12 March. I am wearing a new dress I bought in a natty shop in Bishops Castle which my friend Sara took me to.
A week to go before Girl in Suitcase comes to The Hampstead School of Art. I have rewritten quite a lot to keep it fresh. I know what needs to be junked or rewritten when I am trying to re-learn the lines. If a scene doesn’t feel right, I just don’t want to learn it. I have to get a kick out of each scene. There has to be some sort of continuity, though the show is fairly abstract, playing around with time, me shifting between 2 different characters, which sometimes could be and are the same person. That’s cool. They are Mother and daughter, and as you get older you start to realise, you are becoming your parents whether you like it or not!
The musicians will take on the whole score this time, no recorded music. So I had to get clearer about exactly which lines they were coming in on with which instruments. It’s not easy getting 5 pretty disparate people together to rehearse so time together is very precious. Learning how to think as a conductor or composer is a bit radical for me, being able to articulate what I want from them, but the art of working together is appreciated. It could just be me and my sound system (and at some point it might be) but sharing this process with others helps to get me out of my head!
The writing is something I usually do alone, though there are certain people who deeply inspire me. I take notes whilst in the company of my very good friend Szilvi. She knows me so well and has long been a creative partner of mine. There is this fire in her, I’m not sure if it’s because she’s a Leo or it’s the Hungarian in her, but she describes her pain or her excitement with such delicious colour. Some lines in the play are just plain Szilvi! I rock up at hers on the way home from work on a day when I’ve been totally blocked, and within minutes my notebook is out, trying to keep up with her dynamic spiel. I love that woman.
Then there’s Mum whom the play is actually largely about. That’s hard as feeling too emotional about the content inhibits my ability to engage with it or play with it. Hence Szilvi. Between the two of them I access most of the ideas. In the way that only someone who knows you deeply really can, Szilvi will tell me straight what I need to do. She’s not afraid of upsetting me and she has a fabulous instinct for drama. She doesn’t so much suggest an idea as perform it for me. Of course if she was available I’d invite her to perform, but we are not sharing that particular path for the time being.
My boyfriend Aaron listens to a lot of scenes and feeds back. He loves good writing, usually on television, or science fiction, and has an ear for what works or how I might adjust something.
I’m posting some pictures from a session I was modelling at this evening because I like them so much (they don’t really have anything to do with the show except they are life drawings with me in them!) I was asked to bring in black stockings and high heals. Well it was liberating. I’m quite a lazy girl in general on the girl front, I mean dressing up. Now and again I go for it, but being asked to wear heals, and not to walk in, just pose, was awesome! I could feel the temperature going up in the room! Stockings too, it all got a bit Toulouse Lautrec. Some very pretty artwork so that’s why I’m posting. I tell you, it’s a whole different set of muscles to negotiate in stilettoes, and they don’t get out of my bedroom enough. It felt a little erotic, though actually the poses are very similar to what I would normally do. Just adding some simple French brothel parafernalia makes all the difference. Loosened me right up, it was a nice gift just as the midsummer full moon approaches.
I was grateful for a good year, and ready for a rest. The rest came early when complications arose with the final event so it was cancelled. During the two weeks preceding my holiday in Spain I raised my voice to artists drawing me on two separate occasions. The holiday was well overdue! It was the continual objectliness of the role of life model, being referred to not as a person, but as their (the artists’) object, so that they could get their picture how they wanted it. I cannot remain passive, and at this point in the term, my level of politeness was challenged also. The part of me that has missed making theatre rose up spying an opportunity for a natural drama. My voice shifted to histrionic tones, without quite shouting I did project! I let them know I am much more than an object and they ought to honour my presence, for without me, they would not have a model. They may have many other models, but right here and now, they have me, with the shape and form that I am. If I need to alter the pose because I have damaged my shoulder in the position it was in (whilst doing the pose), then that is what I will do. No questions. And if I know which poses my body can make on a Monday evening at the end of a term when I have been modelling almost every day, and I am a professional model and have been for 7 years, then I know. Not them, however long they have been drawing for, does not make them master of my body ever. They may have trained in the ’50s or ’60s when the model really was often regarded as little more than an object – and when I say model, you can place ‘woman’ in that sentence in most contexts, especially for the type of antiquated artist I refer to – but we are now in the 21st Century. Get with it. Or get lost I say, because I will not tolerate this.
I returned to Barcelona where I had lived briefly 10 years ago, only this time my home was 5 minutes from the sea. Each morning I walked to the beach, and most days the sun shone very bright, the sky brilliantly blue even if the temperature fairly cool. I did not have internet and barely used my phone. I noticed the quality of my sleep improve, as well as my breathing. I kept a journal – hand written – meticulously. I unpicked thoughts over and over, and lingered on memories of my old self bumbling around the city a decade ago in a cloud of hashish smoke. Nice to feel the changes. It felt like a pilgrimage as I revisited favourite spots, and remembered the particular state of play in 2003. My sister visiting me, spending time with my classmates which helped to prep her for the audition to drama school. She got in, and we spent a year living together while we studied at the same college, reconnecting since I had left home. The massive anti-war demonstration which was the biggest of its kind around the world, must have been all the more satisfying for the leaders who ignored it to feel their supreme power. I had gone with my flatmates all day in the packed streets of the centre, then watched the next day as scenes from every city everywhere doing the same thing were shown on television. You can raise a massive outcry like that and know that you are all doing it, feeling it, but you cannot sway the powers that be, the way things are. Stupid white men Bush, Blair and Aznar were the butt of our jokes but who had the last laugh? Well war one place or another continues. To rise above that we have some way to go.
This holiday felt like the greatest gift, and it came via a friend who offered me a room in her tranquil apartment. I knew I never wanted to return to the way Spirited Bodies had been, but at some point I would take the best of what it had been and develop that. It felt like SB had drifted too far from its core. I had let other people’s wishes take over, and now I was pulling my baby back. I longed to reignite my creativity apart from this direction too, so that drive will be honoured from now on.
I came in touch with a female shaman (shamanka) at the beginning of 2014 and with her transcendental insight she had strong advice for me (she gave me a good telling off!) Not to let others take over ever again. Keep nursing this child of mine as it is a calling and to be given the utmost care. I didn’t skip school, waste my youth in mindless chemical abuse, sell my body and give up all pretensions of wanting a ‘normal’ life, mortgage, academic success and 2.4 children to let people who had some of these things take over. Moreover my grand parents and great grand parents did not give up promising careers in the West to live and work underground in the impoverished East or start the South African communist party, in order that their bloodline would give up the fight for justice.Because when you have made big decisions about your future that mark you forever like an alien, you have the power to change things, but only if you use it. It is a unique and divine power and it comes from the passion of youth. You never knew as well as you did when you were 16, 18 pounding the beats on the dancefloor what was wrong with the world, and also what felt right.
It would be vital for me to nurture my own sacred masculine who had gotten lost amidst my celebration of the feminine. That would help me to avoid leaning on others or being led by them. The shamanka pointed out my inappropriate openness left me vulnerable to others hoping to make money, further a career or even meet women through SB, which ultimately was at my expense, undermining my efforts. The good news is, I feel in such a place now, that there is no turning back; I exhausted other pathways. I am left figuring out the direction for myself and have faith in the perfect unfolding of this beautiful phenomenon, with a bit more experience behind me. In the beginning there were so many questions that I was grappling with – whether to have men model with women, whether to make events more theatrical, whether to organise every element of an event myself or combine with organisations of artists, whether to target ‘vulnerable’ women or to create a financially viable operation aimed at wealthier women, whether to stay attuned to the shamanistic 5 Rhythms community or go more political with the women at Southbank, whether to include professional models or create a franchise. I know a lot more now where my heart wants to go with this, and experience has taught me much about what keeps the essence pure.
I aim to bring Spirited Bodies to the Southbank Centre on Sunday March 9th as part of Women of the World festival, late in the afternoon. This will be more of an installation rather than last year’s presentation. It will be a women only space, where women who have modelled with us before will lead the way, before newcomers are welcome to give modelling a try as well. I will invite the experienced women to read out testimonies from women who may prefer not to tell their own story or cannot be there, though live accounts of the transformational experience of life modelling are also welcome. As a healing space for women, it will be totally cool to simply be present, sit on a cushion and listen. Naturally I would love lots of women to come and draw as well as model, but you are also welcome to just be there. Please get in touch if you think you would like to take part; for the most part a day ticket to the festival will be necessary (£12), but if you have modelled with us before I would like to offer free entry to our session at least.
Apart from this my energies are going into a one woman show I am creating, ‘Girl in Suitcase’, which will first be aired in late March (28th) in South East London as part of the Telegraph Hill Festival. It is a follow on from the two woman show I put on in Edinburgh 2011, though now I have decided to simplify matters and concentrate on one performer – myself. Well one performer plus one or more live musicians accompanying me. I will likely start a new website for the show which may provide a new outlet for my more personal ramblings, allowing Spirited Bodies to be entirely for itself and the participants’ stories.
Bringing me right out of the womb will be One Billion Rising for Justice on Valentines’ Day (V or Vagina Day), Friday 14th February. I am simply going to link to Facebook as all the blurb is there – https://www.facebook.com/events/1445985895616396/. Basically Eve Ensler, creator of ‘The Vagina Monologues’ and a healing city for women in the rape capital of the world, Democratic Republic of Congo – leads a host of prominent feminists from MP Stella Creasy, QC Helena Kennedy, actress Thandie Newton, performance artist Skin and many others in campaigning to end all violence against all women everywhere (one billion women in the world it is estimated will be raped or beaten in their lifetimes). Between 12 and 2pm in London, Trafalgar Square there will be speeches, performances and dancing. But wherever you may be in the world, there may be an event near you, or you can start your own. A ‘One Billion Rising’ panel discussion at the start of January got my feminist senses buzzing again, and most of the room dancing by the end; it was electrifying. Hosted by Jude Kelly of Southbank Centre and much of the WOW team, it really helps get the momentum going for V Day. Returning to the idea of balance however, The Southbank this weekend is holding a festival to honour men, Being a Man.
That’s all for now, look forward to crossing paths in the upcoming Year of the Horse.
It was a thrill to see Andy and Nika as Marquis de Sade and his last love Madeleine during his dying days in a lunatic asylum. The Marquis can’t help his debauched imagination and the need to communicate his sordid tales to as wide an audience as possible. Upsetting the chief doctor and the priest who determine to silence him, he is relinquished of his clothes, his wine, bedsheets and finally he is separated from his hands, tongue and cock. You see they would discover his manuscripts which were exceedingly popular, and so they removed his quills and ink so that he might write no more.
Undeterred, even spurred on in his role to push limits, he used his own faeces and blood on the sheets, vestiments and walls. His fans – fellow inmates and the servant girl Madeleine, aided him in transmitting the obscene messages, but being mental, the chinese whispers passing of words caused more than a stir. One deliverer acted literally on the violent intent conveyed, and such was Madeleine’s sad demise. But in this tale some karma is realised in death as both Marquis and Madeleine return to haunt and taunt those who judged them, and of course to flirt as well! The nature of human desire is unpicked, and the tendency to judge where not we have ourselves inquired fully. The doctor and the priest are revealed as hypocrits, in particular the priest getting to know his inner sadist as the punishments advanced.
A sense of destiny is strong on several levels with this performance. Punishing the Marquis teaches the pain givers new lessons their censorship would otherwise lack. It is said more than once that this particular lunatic is running the asylum – and his genius has been misunderstood by those in authority. That artists’ and writers’ words of magnitude do live beyond the grave as the play certifies. That while the greatest imagination may conjure the realities of some powerful/elite/sorry few (i.e. e.g. paedophiles and their victims which are a theme in this show), it also resonates with widespread human desire/lust which although unrealised in many cases (depicted especially through the virginal Madeleine here and even with the Marquis himself) needs to be allowed expression, purely for its rightful place in the imagination. To limit the artist’s mind is a crime; the troubled feelings/ideas set alight in another’s head/heart are not the artist’s responsibility.
To see Andy perform this role felt so apt. Though stepping in at last minute, having to leave temporarily his position of director while sudden line learning was thrust upon him, it appeared from an old friend’s view point as a call of destiny. I cannot imagine another better suited to the role, knowing Andy as I do. For what he has always stood for and stood by, even before I i knew him as an actor, it fitted him perfectly and brought him to act opposite his real life love Nika for the first time in years.
Andy was literally stripped bare on the tiny stage before us, for daring to uphold the boldest most revolutionary ideas, and his character bore this apparent humiliation with amazing grace and charm, ennobling him further. In fact I found him gain in confidence and power as he strode and strutted nude before us, just a metre or so from the front row. Intoxicating lines well crafted by Doug Wright and uttered from the heart did mesmerise. I thought, ‘he could do anything now!’ and I believe he will. It is wonderful to watch friends flourish and bloom. I will add that the whole cast and production are spectacular; the passion is evident.
Photograph of Henrietta Moraes (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Henrietta Moraes (Photo credit: Wikipedia) by Bacon
Sue MacClaine wrote her one woman show ‘Still Life’ about a life model of the ’50s called Henrietta Moraes. She performs it and poses while the audience draws. We went to Brighton on Sunday to see her.
Moraes’ world is a basket of name-drop; she dined with Francis Bacon and posed for him regularly, knew Lucien Freud and was Maggi Hambling‘s lover until she died. She wrote as well as taking her life modelling very seriously, fitted a few kids in, worked as a cat burglar, caravanned across Wales and Ireland in the ’60s with hippies and drank copiously. Like other alcoholic artists she tended to maudlin lament then startled with insane fiery presence. I thought MacClaine caught particularly well the in-the-moment quality of a psychedelic trip; the sense of continually re-arriving at the same point as it is pushed into our vision relentlessly. This worked with our need to keep Looking at her and really looking as we simultaneously drew. She wasn’t a mechanical model which is what I have found off-putting about the usual life drawing class; she was running the show and poses became infused with personality as we got taken on her trip.
She broke up the flow not always timing herself, sipping wine which convincingly loosened her, wandered into the audience, staring into our eyes. It was the relationship between watcher and watched reassessed and I loved being on the other side. Philip Herbert a life model and actor of today has his own one man show which is biographical, ‘Naked Splendour’ with its own essence being very much himself. I love that too. It’s good to see what others do to remind me how I am different and where our themes naturally overlap. I am going to return imminently to my own life drawing play.
With Massimo. We had been staying with Andy and his theatre company but after a row, Massimo walked. I was left with a friend of his in our mess of a room. A stash of photos in a corner, memories. We discussed what to do and my heart almost turned – “call him, go after him,” but why wasn’t I offering to fetch him myself?
I worried about returning to my home alone; I didn’t seem to know anyone. The guy with me offered to introduce me to his friends, but my instinct rejected that.
Two women came by, part of a school where we stayed, explained how very soon, plays would be shown in that room. New plays where the audience would draw. 4 plays over a month. How excitable! My companion volunteered me, and we shared my connection; the friendly women prodded our enthusiasm. I could stay and be in the plays which were written by students.
I would let go of my place in London for another month, forget about Massimo. Here with Andy and the theatre for me. When Andy walked over he smiled at the news, opened his arms.
Esther Bunting 