Very much wishing I could be at Proximity Festival 2017. But, as I can’t, I’m enjoying watching interviews and highlights from this and past festivals instead.
Last year, I ran a little itch.io jam called Bring Out Your Dead, for which people could submit unfinished projects and weird concept experiments. And I started doing some write-ups at the time of the pieces that caught my attention, but in some kind of meta keeping with the jam, I didn’t finish and publish […]
Absolutely love this ‘Bring Out Your Dead’ idea – to have a showing/airing of works that aren’t finished (and will possibly never be finished). Maybe it allows you to see what is worth hanging on to. Or lets you put it to rest. Or at least celebrate that you were trying something even if it was never going to work.
This was the overview from the event (which expresses the above so much more elegantly and precisely):
Bring Out Your Dead is an event for sharing dead WIPs and experiments that you don’t expect to finish, but that you’d like to show to someone anyway. It’s a chance to cleanse your hard drive, move on from old ideas, and salvage some learning from things that didn’t work out. It’s also an opportunity for your community to learn from your mistakes — which can be just as useful as learning from a success. Ambitious follies, bizarre experiments, toys, and notions that in retrospect never had a chance — all are welcome.
You are also welcome, and indeed encouraged, to provide some context about your work. What were you trying to achieve? What do you think is most or least successful about what you did? Why did you ultimately decide to abandon the project? Are there things you think others could learn from the project?
There is no ranking in this jam: it’s not about competition and judgments. However, discussion is welcome, especially if you find something in someone’s entry that sparks your imagination.
This would work so well in the context of performance-making. I’m going to do it. I’m going to book a space for a day or weekend and put out the call. Emily Short, I hope you don’t mind? #watchthisspace
A highlight of the 2016 Festival of Live Art:
Blurring documentary with fantastical fiction, Vanitas is a smartphone procedural thriller told through the secret language of flowers.
The app: iTunes
The Facebook: Event page
I’m excited for this but I really have no idea what to wear, or what ‘character’ to inhabit. I think I may have to play the role of someone who stumbled into this thing by accident and therefore looks out of place (within the imagined world of the show/party) but also as though they’re this way on purpose (at the meta level). Or, you know, I could just get over it and try to have a good time …
‘March 1972. The curtain has just closed on opening night of a brand new musical theatre experience. Backstage, the cast and crew are abuzz with adrenalin, hope, congratulations and recriminations. Do they have a smash on their hands? Were the months of hard work and late-night dance rehearsals worth it? Most importantly, who is secretly sleeping with the lead choreographer?
Live art production house The Boon Companions invite you to dig out your best Fosse-inspired outfit and throw yourself into the joy and madness of their Cast Party. There’ll be drinking, dancing, and the occasional explosive starlet meltdown.
From the team who brought you immersive theatre parties The Wedding Reception and Le Petit Salon comes a new experiential celebration of optimism and joy. Dress the part, inhabit your character, and keep your eyes and ears open at all times. You never know who or what you mind find..
Warning: Adult concepts, coarse language, loud music, alcohol served.’
Sad to have missed out on a chance to play with this:
‘Given that most participants begin the experience before other audience members have exited, there is a certain unstoppability to the entire undertaking once the first audience members meet the first performer. Where can we hide flexible, connective, and responsive tissue in this piece? How do we park someone, or rush someone, without them ever knowing we are doing it?’
Follow the link to a detailed, useful insight into immersive theatre/experience making.
‘I don’t trust people easily. However, in a Punchdrunk show I have no problem putting my complete trust into a (most of the time) complete stranger. I don’t know most of the performers in the show and yet I’ve let them blindfold me, take me into pitch black rooms, force feed me oranges (don’t ask) and I’ve drunk whatever they have handed me without asking what exactly I was about to swallow. It’s the strange thing a Punchdrunk show will do to me. I become obedient in a way but it also sets me free.’