Thursday, 12 August 2010

part 2

So here's the next part of my dialogue with Jane Prinsep which we've called why not me? part 2

You can download it here.

For anyone who's coming to this new, you should know that this dialogue was part of a series of Intimate Conversations on the subject of sex that we recorded in May and June, edited in July and shared initially at Latitude Festival's Fifth Edition earlier this summer in the UK.

And so you know what you're getting into, Jane's story begins with a description of being raped when she was 14.

Her story is a powerful one. And in some ways a disturbing one.

But it's not a story about being a victim. Far from it.

And for me it's not just a story about recovery.

It's about one woman's journey, moving from a time when she had control seized from her in the most horrible way to a place where she reclaims her life, her identity and her future.

Jane is a remarkable woman. I went over to Switzerland to meet her earlier this summer and after lunch by the lake we sat down and recorded a conversation. A dialogue.

Most conversations I record, I subsequently edit down to a 10-15 minutes version and share it with the world. But sometimes a conversation is so rich that it merits more than just a one part. And this is one of those.

Part 1 which you can download here received a lot of attention and downloads and for many people Jane has been already been an inspiration as you'll see by visiting her blog.

So here's Part 2.

Parts 3 and 4 will come in the next few weeks.

Thanks again Jane.

Sunday, 1 August 2010

an audience

So here I am on the brink of going to Edinburgh Festival, to open a play called The Author.

It's a brilliant piece.

There's genuinely nothing I've ever seen that's remotely like it.

The play is about many things. And one of the things it's about is an audience.

What does it mean to be an audience? Not just in a theatre - in our lives.

When we see something - when we witness something, when we meet something, how much of that act are we not just viewing (or hearing) but creating?

In a world of beautiful things like hope, love, care, tenderness, richness, curiosity, pleasure...

How responsible are we for making these things happen? In our every day behaviours? In the way we choose to say hello to the stranger we bump into? In choosing to thank the bus driver? In choosing to smile at someone because we think they're beautiful or brave or simply present?

And in a world of terrible things like terror, fear, violence, despair, illness, depression, war, rape and child abuse...

How responsible are we for making these things happen? In our every day behaviours? Not just in what we choose to do, but also in what we choose not to do? In our choice to ignore the loneliest looking person in a room. In choosing not to ask the question we know might need asking? In our choice to not see what is staring us in the face?

It takes courage to participate. To be with others. To truly be with others. And ourselves.

Every one of these questions is inside the body of The Author.

And every one of these questions has come up in rehearsals for The Author. Some very unexpectedly. But all the more keenly.

So - if you fancy a bit of sensory deprivation, if you want to sit back and let the actors entertain you, if you fancy a night off...

Don't come and see The Author.