Griffin Artist Card membership is an initiative to increase access to our theatre. This program facilitates the coming together of artists across different disciplines and at different stages of their career. It supports and strengthens a vibrant emerging artist community, as well as acknowledging this community as an important part of the Griffin family and the wider theatre world.
How does it work? We want to offer a place where artists can see work, discuss work and make work.
To see work, we will continue to offer heavily discounted $15 tickets, which can be booked in the first fortnight of all Griffin and Griffin Independent shows, Performance Space shows at members' rates and ticket deals and giveaways to other theatre companies.
To discuss work, we are introducing regular Artist Card events where the community can come together for a drink.
And finally, we are supporting emerging artists in their making of new, bold and exciting work. Griffringe will continue to be a great avenue for artist card holders to display their work. We will also be offering (where possible!) free use of our space for readings and developments.
The Artist Card is a community. It is the glitter glue that brings all the cool amazing arty people together and helps them sparkle. So it's almost like glitter glue squared. If you are interested in joining the artist card outfit, please email firstname.lastname@example.org or come along to our next shindig….Hope to see you there!
Posts tagged Van Badham
DAY #6 + DAY #7
I am rolling the last two days of the workshop into one for we have covered very similar territory in both. It is winding up now and Samantha and Chris are pulling a fine-toothed comb through the script (rather than, say, one of those industrial hairdressing combs where the teeth have 5cm between them.)
I have learnt a lot over these past two weeks. The importance of biscuits. Laughter. Honesty.
Honesty is something that I have not delved into much but it is fundamental to creative development. On Wednesday there was a section of one of the scripts that Samantha didn’t find interesting during the reading. Upon discussion of the session she showed the section to the writer and exclaimed how bored she had been. I was shocked and then shocked again by how well the writer took it. I suddenly realised that this was the whole purpose of what we were doing here. The writer needs a multiplicity of voices outside of his or her own head to tell him/her, honestly, what works and what does not because they themselves do not have access to such a perspective.
So honesty: tick. It seems obvious but I guess it’s the kind of honesty where, although you take care of and respect the feelings of the artist involved, you also don’t mince your words. They are there because they want the very best out of their work and it would be a disservice for you to not be candid for fear of hurting their feelings.
I have also learnt about the importance of a rock-solid beginning and ending. It is these that anchor a script and if they are not well-built, subtle and refined then there’s a good chance that the writing will just float away. Think of the play as a picnic blanket and the beginning and end are the rocks you’re using to pin it down in the breeze. And the breeze is the audience’s attention. OK, enough with the analogy already.
I have learnt about the importance of fine actors. Lucy Bell and Matt Zeremes are not your dime-a-dozen thespian and I have realised that their power as performers lies in their curiousity. Endless questions not only about their characters but about the mythological and artistic references, the spatial configurations of the performance, the relationships and the motivations not only within the play-world but of the writer herself, challenging her to substantiate her artistic decisions. Bottom line: good actors in the development phase are as important as any other person in that room.
This is all I will write in summary for now but I’m sure much more will spring to mind.
There are going to be three more of these workshops throughout the year - I strongly (vehemently?) suggest that you apply for these internships. The insights have been invaluable.
Back to Van today and The Bull, The Moon and the Coronet. The piece had a reading at Merrigong Theatre on Saturday, apparently to resounding success.
OK, so. Things learnt today.
1. If you dig symbolism as a playwright, you must always keep the question ‘how does this symbolism drive the action?’ tucked behind your ear.
2. If your play is veering between being a play about the past and being a play about now itmustbe a play about now. I can’t stress enough how much this was made a point of today.
3. It is always better, if your play is based on real-life events (eg. if your characters are modelled on relations, etc), that you find out what actually happened rather making shit up. (That’s verbatim, people).
4. If you are at the video store right now, hireIn The Cut, a Jane Campion film with Mark Ruffalo and Meg Ryan. It’s much hated because of its promotion of feminism but it is well worth the watch apparently. Mainly because it is a perfect exemplar of a perfect relationship, which may only be achieved once women have understood violence and men helplessness.
5. Never forget the value of the diegetic. You, as a playwright, must put us in the realness of your world. For this, exploring the sensory faculties is very useful, although don’t overdo it. Good one.
Another day, another draft.