Three of my fellow students and myself are incorporating all our research into this collaborative project. We are calling it ‘Ambiant Noise’. Our specialist areas are Sarah (political),Bo (sound), Vaso (fantasy)and myself Cultural fusion (boundaries).
We are proposing a 20 minute performance based on Jean Genet’s ‘The Balcony’. It has been chosen for its themes about reality and escapism. We are exploring the tension that exists between political responsibility and desire for escapism. The characters of Genet’s original play chose to ignore the sounds of war and destruction that could be heard from outside the brothel where they are indulging in their fantasies. Our production will confront the audience with a similar choice. Genet’s script created doubt between truth and fiction; we aim to distort the boundaries’ of reality and fantasy.
From outside of the space they will hear the sound of modern warfare, inside the space they will be greeted by a performer who indulges in his own false reality. We hope to question the validity of our knowledge of international conflict, which is based entirely on the information we are fed through the media.
This production is about war and fantasy and the boundaries between these concepts, my main character will initially look like he is preparing for battle or is he indulging in his fantasy of being a combat soldier. He is wearing a mask which is a shield between these two worlds’ protection and anonymousicty. He will be wearing a house coat initially which hints that this is a staged situation. The second character is a brothel worker dressed in a military uniform of a higher rank. She is only wearing the coat with black lacey bra and knee high black leather boots, stockings. The higher rank uniform is hinting at dominance, submission, the boots and stockings this regalia all hints that this is a fantasy. She is wearing a mirrored mask so that the audience when they look directly at her will see thier own reflections. This draws the audience into this fantasy. The first mask is my version of a cross between an early Inuit mask with North American Native elements added.(directly linked to my research) I’ve used contempory materials for the base and have transposed photocopies of the original Inuit mask onto the surface. The second mirrored mask I think is too modern for this peice. But when the lights are low,in the dark it looks ok. Verdict is still out.
Here are some pics of first mask on the left is the picture of Inuit mask that I've based it on. Second is work in progress.
Time frame for installation & strike; The performance will take place in the TV studio at WCA on the 25th of March 11am & 5pm
Budget; Collective budget of £100.
Job Allocation; Sarah Mclaughlin Direction & projection, Bo Kim Young Sound, Vasliliki Papadopoulou Set & Lighting Design, Eileen Newton; Costume Design & Interpretation
Technical Rider; Equipment for performance 6 stage lights (par cans and source four pars) 2 projectors, hazer, 2speakers, amp, mixing desk, CD Player, ladders for installation and safety cables to secure equipment.
Equipment for Documentation; 3 Camcorders, 3 Tripods, 1still camera. Basic Set Elements; TV, Calico, Rosco paints, plastic, manicans.
Ambient Noise Script
The audience enters the corridor of the TV studios. It is very dark. They are greeted with music (perhaps track 1 from AMINA). They remain in the dark corridor for about a minute until a voice is heard....
VOICE1: Someone opened the door.... who can it be at this time of night? Who is it?
A match flares up in the balcony of the corridor. It is held by a masked figure. The mask is made of broken pieces of mirror that reflect and multiply the light around the space. The voice continues....
VOICE1: Oh... you.... you’re late. Where the hell where you?
What’s happening outside? Do you have any news? What about the war? Where is the war?
I wouldn’t take the liberty of asking your opinions. Everyone is free and I’m not concerned with politics
(laughs) What you call outside is as mysterious to us as we are to it.
Viewed from here.... life seems to be so remote, so profound. That it has all the unreality of a film
We have reached the point at which we can no longer be actuated by human feelings. Our function will be to support, establish and justify metaphors.
Real life... You mustn’t think about it anymore. And you must stop listening to the sounds from outside
The door to the TY Studios suddenly flings open and from inside an eerie light glows. The masked figure on the balcony extinguishes the match and points through the door to indicate to the audience that they must enter. The voice continues
VOICE1: Turn left and be careful they don’t spot you. When you get to the windows hug the wall on all fours. They are shooting from the roofs
Inside the TV Studios there is a warm hazy womb-like room build of paper lit in a soft blue/green light. There is a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. it is not lit. It is dripping with candle wax and toy soldiers. There is a mirror in the room which reflects a second masked character who has his back to the audience. His mask has no features. It is blank and expressionless. He is looking at a television that is hooked up to a playstation with a war game on pause. He is holding the joystick limply in both hands. The music that was playing in the corridor continues while the audience entre the space and position themselves around the room. Suddenly as if awaking from a dream the masked figure acknowledges the audience. A second voice is heard
VOICE2: You’re late! Where the hell where you?
Are all the doors firmly shut? Can anyone see us or hear us?
The masked character moves through the audience and hastens the shut the door. Pausing and looking left and right into the corridor before carefully shutting it. As the masked figures returns his attention to the room the voice continues
VOICE2: I’ve been told that this house is going to be besieged. The rebels have already crossed the river. This afternoon, just before you arrived the rebels took three key positions. They set fire to several places. Not a single fireman came out. Everything went up in flames the palace was blown up last night. It’s dangerous for anyone to loiter in the streets. You had a pretty close shave.
(he laughs and looks at himself in the mirror, taking a stance like a movie character, he pretends to machine gun the entire cafe) Bangbangbangbang!
I went out to plant a bomb. When I got half-way up the street, some son of a bitch started firing away but he missed me. I saw the machine-gun almost in front of me. He was reloading. I just stood and stared at him, cool as a cucumber. He looked as if he were posing, with the light beaming on him. He took aim. And then, he toppled over. One of our boys had picked him off. I continued on my way, calm as can be. I plant my bomb and here I am. I wasn’t scared for a second. Didn’t bat an eyelash.
A noise is heard
VOICE2: What’s that?
All the lights go out. The audience is plunged into darkness. A third voice is heard as if through a walkie talkie.
VOICE3: The city is full of Corpses. All the roads are cut. There is simply no end to it. Not a moments rest. The rebellion has spread all over the north of the city.
When the lights come back up once again the second masked character is standing motionless in the middle of the room. He is waiting, impatient, nervous. The man removes his torn gloves trembling. The takes from his pocket a pocket a handkerchief and mops his face. He then wipes his hands with his handkerchief. He inspects himself in the mirror. However on this occasion the mirror has been removed from the wall. Instead of his own reflection there is the first masked character. The two mimic each other’s movements. They are disturbed by the sound of a woman’s scream
VOICE1: But I told them to be quiet. Good Thing I remembered to cover the windows with padded curtains.
VOICE2: That wasn’t a make believe scream.
VOICE1: How do we know? And what does it matter?
The masked character behind the mirror climbs into the space to join the other. The scream is heard again
VOICE2: What’s that?
VOICE1: Nothing. There is always some carelessness on both sides
VOICE2: But that cry? A woman’s cry? A call for help perhaps? Its disturbing. You hear?
VOICE1: I told you, you mustn’t think about it anymore. And you must stop listening to the sounds from outside
(A noise is heard, as if something has fallen in the next room, in a natural tone)
VOICE1: Oh what is that? What is it? Can’t they leave me in peace. What’s going on?
VOICE2: Nothing at all. Someone must have dropped something. You’re getting nervous
VOICE1: May I have a look outside
VOICE2: Just a quick one because it’s getting late
Both characters move to a part of the wall where the tear away pieces of the wall so that they can peer out. From behind the wall a very bright light shines. Penetrating the darkness of the room
VOICE1: Its lit up brightly. Lit but empty. Empty.
Both masked character turn to the audience
VOICE1&2: Come over here. Have a look outside. We’ve got secret peep- holes in every wall. Every partition, every mirror is rigged. In one place, you can hear the sighs, in another the echo of the moans
Taking each member of the audience by the shoulders, the masked characters direct them to little peep-holes in the walls. Through these they can see little scenarios involving toy soldiers. While the audience look through the peep holes the two masked characters join hands. And stand in the middle of the room watching them. After some time a pink light comes up behind the wall. The room is a glow a hushed voice begins to whisper urgently.
VOICE1: Its evening in an apple orchard the sky is calm and pink the earth is bathed in a sudden peace. The moan of doves. The peace that precedes battles. The air is very still. An apple has fallen to the grass.
Suddenly an apple falls from the lightening rig. The second masked character picks it up.
VOICE1: A yellow apple. Things are holding their breath. War is declared. The evening is very mild. We’re at the edge of the meadows. But suddenly death has pricked my ears. Things are lit up in an ultimate goodness. The water lay motionless in pools. The wind itself was awaiting an order to unfurl the flags. Suddenly all was fire and sword! Splinters of shells had gashed the lemons. Now death was in action
VOICE2: Shut up! You liar. Shut up!
VOICE1: I wanted to disenchant . You’ve got to realize that. [pointing to the audience] They need me. I’m like a pool in which they behold themselves.
VOICE2: And if they lean over too far they fall in and drown. [sneering] Before long you’ll be full of drowned bodies
VOICE1: You miss the entire point. When it’s over, their minds are clear. I can tell from their eyes. Suddenly they understand mathematics. They love their children and their country. It brings consolation
VOICE2: Hell no! None of that. That sort of thing would shoot them into a heaven of abstractions, where they’d hang permanently. If you make them untouchable, how can you approach them, how can you love them? You’ve got to leave them in their living reality. Let there be poems and pictures, but they mustn’t give pleasure, they’ve got to sting.
VOICE1: Reality frightens you, doesn’t it? Would it perturb you to see things as they are? To gaze at the world tranquilly and accept responsibility for your gaze, whatever it might see?
(Sound of gun fire in the distance)
VOICE2: Who is it? Our side? Or rebels? Or... someone dreaming?
VOICE1: Stop listening. You seem anxious. Has anything happened?
Gentlemen you are free
Your times up
I don’t know what you’re doing and I haven’t the right to enquire
Youll leave by the narrow door that leads to the alley way
Come along
Get out
Get along. clear out of here
You’ve nothing further to do
But you’ve got to leave
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