Review commissioned by this is tomorrow
At the age of 20, Brian Lobel was diagnosed with testicular cancer. Unsurprisingly, his illness changed the course of his life, leading ultimately to his decision to study performance and become an artist. Now 31, Lobel has frequently returned to cancer as his artistic subject matter, documenting its impact on his personal and social life. His trilogy of one-man autobiographical performances, including ‘Ball’ and ‘Other Funny Stories About Cancer’ featured the artist in confessional mode relaying the awkward, embarrassing and sometimes traumatic impact of the illness on his body and mind.
A review commissioned by this is tomorrow
It seems contradictory for a festival that uses the word ‘Supernow’ as part of its tagline to be preoccupied with documenting its own history. The notion that performance exists only in the present has long been considered an obstacle for the archivist, marking the ‘nowness’ of the practice as one of its enduring artistic and political virtues. If performance is a collision of personal experiences brought together in a unique moment, the prospect of drawing together a compelling art historical exhibition to be explored amid the liveness of the 2013 festival is riddled with incongruity. How can fragments of the past stand up to the allure of the festival in the present? And how might knowledge of the festival’s history add to the production of new experiences in 2013?
This exhibition is pitched as a tentative beginning to a larger archival project that will cover the whole of Fierce’s15-year history. Read more
I’ve spent most of today playing Anna Best‘s new online game Bearpits and Landmines, which is launching this weekend (27th and 28th July) at Womad. Its a web and phone app with a haunting soundtrack and quirky illustration. The work was made as part of an artist commission by Artlands last year at the newly built Cyclopark in Gravesend. I was producer for some of the performance elements of the project. Read more
Ed Pinsent presenting his ideas on data storage during day one of the course
I am writing this on my way to the second day of a digital humanities training course at the Working Class Movement Library in Salford. Together with my colleague Ella Paremain, I will be giving a presentation about the digital archival resource that we are currently assembling as part of Unfinished Histories. We are presenting it as a case study in working with volunteers to create accessible web archives.
My article on PhDs in Theatre Studies was published in The Stage on 9th May. Given that it happened a few days before my birthday I manged to completely miss it! If anyone has any belated comments please feel free to add them here.
Jane Davis Director of The Reader leading the final panel session of the day
I believe that the words we use to talk about mental illness can profoundly change social attitudes towards it. I also believe that being exposed to creative, beautiful language can enlighten, uplift and powerfully impact personal well-being and mental health.
On 16th May I went along to The Reader Organisation’s conference ‘shared reading for healthy communities,’ were there was plenty of thought provoking dialogue to confirm and also challenge some of these beliefs. To recap from my previous post, The Reader are an organisation who run shared reading groups in clinical and community settings, often with individuals who have problems with alcoholism, chronic pain or depression. As part of the first session, reader Jon Greenhalgh testified to the impact that one of these groups had on his own life, by helping him to end a long relationship with alcoholism. Less than one hour in and I was already witnessing powerful testimony about the value of shared reading for personal wellbeing!
Image Stephen Rees
The way we use language to talk about mental illness has a significant impact on how society understands specific conditions. Medical terms such as ‘bi-polar’ or ‘depression’ create a framework of symptoms or behaviors that individuals might be expected to exhibit in social situations, leading to common stereotypes and misunderstanding. While medical language is valid for certain purposes, it is necessary to develop a more nuanced lexicon to enable suffers to express the complexity of their own subjective experiences and to enrich social understandings of mental health issues.
I got really excited this week, when I came across The Reader Organisation’s annual conference titled “We need a new language for mental health”. This call to arms seems to acknowledge the importance of language in defining mental crisis. The title fired my imagination and got me asking, what might a new language for talking about mental health sound like? What kinds of words might be most adequate for reflecting the complexity of emotions such as fear, anxiety and anger?
Philippa Strandberg; a potential PhD student in theatre who I have interviewed for my article, teaching her BA students at Italia Conti
This week I am finishing a piece of writing for The Stage with a working title of “Should British Universities abolish PhDs in Theatre Studies?” The title is intentionally provocative and is devised in response to an article that was published in The Chronicle of Higher Education in America earlier this year. Written by a disenfranchised PhD in Theatre, this article attacked the PhD qualification as being worthless in the context of a shrinking American academic job market.
Performance Re-enactment Society, After Yoko Ono, Grapefruit (1964), Arnolfini, 2009, Photo Carl Newland
Have you ever wondered what happens to a website after people stop using it? When technology develops and pages are redesigned or abandoned, digital content can be lost forever. At a time when some of the best writing around live art, performance and experimental practices now takes place online, we stand to lose vital historical information if these sites are not properly archived.