Today's Muse: Pan Left, zoom in on the steeple of the church

You know, I can put MSI or the Seventh on at full blast (in my futile bid to strike back at the dude downstairs with EVERY FUCKING radio compilation ever spewed) and for the niece to dance to, and no one bats an eyelid.

Then I put on the RENT soundtrack and people come down to my floor asking me to turn it down.

But - Nnngh, I can't get enough of that thing. So, suffer, family!


Hm.

Okay: At the end of last week LASALLE calls and asks if I'd like to take part in a last-minute workshop conducted by a foreign lecturer who was in town to take part in the women's theatre - can't remember the name - festival. Naturally I jumped at it.

It's a bit surreal; watching Christina speak in Italian gesturing violently, then turning to Bruna for the translation. They're part of a theatre company with rather unconventional methods: None of their plays are scripted or plotted. Instead, a series of improv exercises are used and are built upon each other until they... until they have enough for a performance.

Emphasis is put on using only the body. No interacting with the wall, the floor, other people, imagined and mimed objects. Convey the story using just expressions and movements. It's a lot more difficult than it sounds... How does one show the need for attention without pandering to an audience of some sort? How does one laugh at something if there's nothing to be laughed at?

Conventional movements and expressions are frowned upon. Don't show you're happy just by smiling. Swing your arms! Roll around on the ground! Gurgle like a baby!

And the story, the story... What was it that Christina said? "It does not matter if the audience does not understand. What is important is the movement, the things you do matter to you. To the actor. It must signify something important to you."

She likened it to Pablo Picasso's deconstruction of the human face. I don't know exactly how to put it into words. But at that moment, with Christina's face like a rubber band and thin, wiry arms waving around, constantly resting in her grey mane - "Like a lion!" thought I - you get it. You don't understand, but you get it. Do you understand that?

Ach. I'm still not sure where this is going. It's both unsettling and exciting. Who knows what'll happen in the next two days?

There's a great exercise we do before we dive into the improv bits. Working on reaction. Conditioning the body to react instinctively, instead of stopping to think about it. BOOM! Jump! BOOM! Get down! BOOM! Fucking ace, man.

Man, that was vague.


Ten theatre foundation students so far, ranging in age from 17 to 26. One has a driver's license and a huge vehicle. Sweet.

Three days to orientation. Woo bweee. Two weeks to the recital. Woo fuckery.