I could tell you about how the donkey represents that part of you that you don’t want anymore and how the marbles are all the little things that have made a difference in your life, but I won’t, because today I want to tell you about the butterfly and the bottle.
TiPP are running a creative evaluation for GMWSA (Greater Manchester Women’s Support Alliance) about women’s experiences and stories of what has made a difference to them in their journeys through the criminal justice system. We have been visiting women’s centres all over Greater Manchester and asking women in groups and as individuals to tell us their stories.
We want this experience to be creative, led by the women and take place in a safe space. This is why we have brought thirty objects with us to all the sessions and used them to unlock stories that women want to tell. The objects free us all a bit, creating new connections, prompting memories and encouraging metaphorical thinking.
I have loved how quickly women relate to these objects and how differently they connect and how much empathy and understanding can be developed when we remove a little bit of focus/pressure from ourselves and place it into inanimate objects.
I thought the easiest way for you to understand the richness of this process and the power of these stories might be to tell you about the butterfly and the bottle. In the one to one sessions, we first ask women to pick an object that represents them in that moment and place it on a large square of paper that is their life. The butterfly has been chosen for different reasons, “it’s me, being free”, “I am a butterfly, I love butterflies and I have butterfly bedding and a butterfly mirror,”, and “the flutterby is me and how I have changed my life in the last five years”. In one of the group sessions it was a symbol of taking responsibility for your actions and then being able to fly. For some women it represented other people “It reminds me of better times, when my dad used to take me to the butterfly house”, “its my daughter who was still born 21 years ago”. For others it was a place “The butterfly is the women’s centre, it is peace”.
The bottle too was interpreted very differently often with connections to alcohol and mental health. “The bottle is my anxiety and depression. It has been overwhelming and I want to put it in a bottle.”, “The bottle shows my relationship with alcohol, I couldn’t go to the shops because I worried I would buy a bottle”. One of the quieter women in a group who apparently does not usually speak up became very animated when she created a story “The bottle is me, its seems empty but it is full of invisible stuff, we need a stone to break it.” Another woman used the bottle twice, once standing up it showed simply that she bottles things up, the second time it was different “the bottle with the stopper off is me beginning to open up and let things out.”
Each of the objects has had its moment in the spotlight and has enabled us to really hear and feel these women’s’ stories and truly see the person in front of us.
Overjoyed to have another review in BN1 magazine. Here it is or click here
What is art? Is it the issue of the garlanded genius, exhibited in the temples of high culture? Or is it the collective issue of communities, performed in makeshift spaces and dealing with ‘ordinary’ life that, very often, conceals devastating conditions, struggles and sorrows?
It is both, of course, but it is all too easy to place a higher value on the first, dismissing the second as ephemeral and unsophisticated. The Washing Up is a community theatre piece that works, not merely because it is funny, irreverent, restless and inventive, but also because it is driven by ideas and techniques that are richer and subtler than you might at first think.
Twelve non-professional actors offered their ‘research’ on that universal bane ‘the washing up’ via skits, songs and sketches that had kids and adults shouting back in agreement, dissent and common sympathy.
One sketch parodied political tribalism, ending in an audience vote for either ‘the bowl’ or ‘the sink’ technique using pink or yellow gloves. Weaving the show together, the ‘god of washing up’ – dressed in glam-punk top hat and tails – declaimed, ‘I am the alpha and the omega . . . the draining board to your desperation.’
This ‘god’ is reminiscent of the medieval morality play or ancient pagan ceremony. Though written collaboratively, it shows a sophisticated guiding hand at work, just as the striking transition from self-contained skit to individual actor’s testimony does. Suddenly, real voices break through the onstage personas, speaking of family and childhood. We feel, for a few moments, the deep experience and emotional burdens of those onstage, and we realise that this folk art is showing us how we connect, share, witness and heal as we create art in the presence of – and for – one another.
And what could be more valuable than that?
Saturday 26th May, 1.30pm
Manor Gym, East Brighton
Review by Simon Murnau
Today we can delight you with a review of our performance at #Your Place @Brighton Festival, by Guardian writer Colin Grant.
The great African American playwright, August Wilson designed dramas with the governing principle that they would be “for the people, by the people and near the people”. Wilson aimed to resurrect the standards of the “chitlin circuit” which stretched, not patronised, its working-class audiences, oh and entertained them as well. Something of that spirit and doctrine has infected the creators of The Washing Up, one of my highlights of this year’s Brighton Festival at the Hangleton Community Centre.
This is a joyous and celebratory riff on what on the surface would appear to be a mundane chore, but which is revealed – in the course of a dazzling hour of song, some dance, the beginnings of Alan Bennett-like monologues, and comic/absurdist transformations (for example of people into the unfancied utensils at the back of the drawer never selected for washing) – to be a reflection on the place of washing up in the human psyche. What has been lost in social interactions through the rise of the dreaded dish-washing machine?
With humble input from the director Kate McCoy and writer and lyricist, Nou Ra this is a generous, ego-free ensemble performance, and the best of people’s theatre fit for the Citizens Theatre in Glasgow or Theatre Royal Stratford East, or any venue that wants to see how plays can connect with local people in ways that are challenging, poignant and refreshing. The witty banter is probing and the songs sing. More songs please!
The Washing Up started with a conversation between Nou Ra and Kate McCoy and Nou has written the songs, lots of the written bits and is also performing. She is massively talented and the show would not exist without her. Here is her take on it all.
I have always been a “creative” person. I started writing poems about ‘crystal caverns’ and ‘faeries’ when I was about 7 or 8, and singing little ditties with suitably childish titles like “We’re the Banana People” and “Unicorns are Rainbows”. I continued writing poems that I never read to anybody and I was a closeted singer, I would sing along to sad songs all throughout my youth. I came out the closet and began to sing in a band in my mid 20’s. I say all that to establish that I am not new to creative projects but Theatre is the latest medium I have worked with and my limited experience of theatre has been very “Serious”. Of the two projects I have been involved in, one discussed addiction and recovery and the other, austerity and its effects on the marginalised members of society. “The Washing Up” project, however, is something I have NO experience of : A Devised Comedy.
Today we have a guest blog from Julie Orchard, pictured in gold. Its all about her experience of creativity and recovery. Its great. Enjoy
My experience of ‘’ creative recovery ‘’.
I know it might sound over the top but creative recovery has given me reason to live. Not just exist.
It began when I had to get sober – alcohol had brought me to my knees as they say. My life was on self-destruct. I needed help and I got it from the services provided by an organisation called Pavilions, and the AA and other fellowship meetings. These gave me a kick start and I continue to use them and their support. Through the people I met I was introduced to The Cascade Cafe. Fair priced food and the company of people who were there for varying and similar reasons. I went to their open mic nights and New Year’s Eve party and had seen a show put on by United Rocks Recovery at the One Church, which was so entertaining. It was full of all sorts of talent. I remember thinking wow this is amazing – and secretly (even a secret to myself) I wished I could be a part of that. A year and a bit later I had joined Cascades’ writing group, the choir and drama group. The people were all so welcoming and silently understood where I was coming from.
Today I am filled with excitement and inspiration about the days ahead, looking forward to the choir and drama. To be looking forward with a sense of belonging in the now and to the future is a massive change from where I was. Drinking and not drinking, I was in the depth of depression. I was lost, had lost myself, lost interest in things I enjoy. Each day when I woke I just wanted it to be over. I was not motivated and would put one foot in front of the other and get myself to a CBT workshop and/or a meeting. I filled my time, hours, days, weeks, months with these and Netflix, on my quest to giving up alcohol. Time was vast, too much of it. Now, there isn’t enough time in the day for all the things I want to do. After 2 detoxes and more relapses than I ever imagined, I have put together what I call my Recipe of Recovery. The added ingredient of CREATIVITY is totally crucial to my recipe.
First, I want to say how important it was and still is that these people I have joined are in recovery too. Its a given when you attend workshops and meetings. To be able to do something that is not just about working through addiction, but to join an activity where I feel comfortable and ‘’out’’ that I am a recovering addict is essential to me. We don’t always talk about it, it’s just a known amongst us. But always can talk about it, if want to. And the jokes that come out of our mouths are freeing. I really wanted to stress this point and was struggling how to until I was scrolling through Cascade Recovery Cafe Facebook page yesterday and came across this quote that hit this home.
‘’You can’t break the stigma of addiction, until you break the stigma of recovery. By Amy Dresner’’ Being creative is one thing and its brilliant but to be able to do it with others in recovery feels safe; I don’t have to hide this part of me; there is no shame.
And one more quote from that Cascade FB page is
’’ What a beautiful thing it is, to be able to stand tall and say ‘’I fell apart, and I survived’’. ‘’ I stand so tall after a rehearsal and/or a performance. I have gained such a lot of confidence and self-esteem.
My experience of joining the drama group is being encouraged to have ideas, playing with ideas and creating a drama piece out of them. I love the everyday epic theme. At present it is ‘’The Washing Up’’. In the group workshops I/we are acting out stories and emotions, but I/we are acting. The first time I had to act like I was in an argument I couldn’t do it. I was shaking after, as if I had had an actual argument. Drama helps me observe my feelings and work through them. It helps me process emotions that come from everyday life- interacting and working with others, listening, self-expression, mutual expression, conflicting expressions, being committed to something, feeling vulnerable, shy, mouthy, opinionated, self-conscience, letting go, playing, being in control, loosening control, feeling introverted/too invisible, extroverted/too visible. Different from mindfulness and meditation, which I use to calm my mind, the drama group has opened a channel for my imagination and often obsessive mind.
To do anything like writing or singing or drama before I was on my recovery journey, using this new recipe for my life, I would have had a drink before doing anything for Dutch courage to handle the nerves and loosen the inhibitions, a drink after to handle the come down off the adrenaline high of excitement and a drink in the middle to keep me going.
AA meetings and CBT workshops have given me so many tools and coping strategies for what reasons and triggers to drink are always. Celebrate, Commiserate, whatever… my problem was/is I can’t stop! I have found something in creative recovery that is not just about stopping. It’s about starting. Which is the very essence of Creation.
With all this in my life I basically don’t want to drink. Well that’s not true. I have wanted a drink while I’ve been writing this. Sad but true. To not want to, would require some sort of neurological or spiritual miracle. I can better describe it as; I do still have the urge to drink, just not as often. I don’t believe that voice any more, telling me its a good idea. I pull out every ingredient I have, to not act on it. Being a part of this creative recovery community brought me out of my isolation by giving me a safe space to be me, make connections with people and start living life again. I think of them when I get the urge to drink and think if they can do this, so can I. Being creative makes me feel alive, and helps me stay on this recovery path. I am so thankful that there are groups, projects, people, who give their time and belief towards making this available to me.
Big Thankx to Cascade Creative Recovery and those who fund it !!