Sensibilities 4: walking to listen, endless fascinations, and the last month before the Workshop Wor
Welcome to the fourth and final installment of Sensibilities!
We have one, glorious month standing between us and the beginning of the Workshop Workshop. As always, we wanted to compile some of the far-ranging resources, ideas, and inspirations that have been bouncing around in our heads lately, in the hopes that they pique your interest, jumpstart your creativity, or simply add a little intrigue to your day. If something here inspires you or your thinking about your workshop, we'd love to hear about it!
(The Puget Sound Workshop Workshop is a summer camp where everyone's a teacher and everyone's a student. For more information or to get started on registration, please click here!)
1 is the story of Andrew Forsthoefel and his incredible chronicling of his journey across the U.S. -- on foot:
2 is chef and writer Tamar Adler's reminder to look at the tools we already have with curiosity and adventure, from her book The Everlasting Meal:
“There is a prevailing theory that we need to know much more than we do in order to feed ourselves well. It isn’t true. Most of us already have water, a pot to put it in, and a way to light a fire. This gives us boiling water, in which we can do more good cooking than we seem to realize...
The pot was invented 10,000 years ago, and a simmering one has been a symbol of a well-tended hearth every since. I don’t mean to suggest that now that you have been reminded of the age and goodness of a pot of water, you start boiling everything in your kitchen, but that instead of trying to figure out what to do about dinner, you put a big pot of water on the stove, light the burner under it, and then, as soon as it’s on its way to getting hot, start looking for things to put in it. Once you do, you will have dropped yourself, in a single gesture, directly into the middle of cooking a meal, jostled by your faith and will a few steps closer to dinner… .”
3 is the unpredictable, man-on-the-street magic of Super Night Shot, an evening by performance collective Gob Squad that is part theatre, part film, and part just humans doing what humans do best:
As they put it:
"The film begins exactly one hour before you come to watch it when the four performer/activists meet, arm themselves with their video cameras and start them simultaneously. With their watches synchronised, they state their manifesto with military precision:
"'Each of us is just one in a million, easy to replace and easy to forget in a city that doesn’t really need us. But don’t worry. We’re going to change all that. We’ve got a plan. This city will need us and this film will be our witness.'
"Embarking on a War On Anonymity, they set off into the night on an adventure where only one thing is certain: 60 minutes later they will meet again and present what they have filmed to the waiting audience. The city becomes a film set, a place where cigarette butts, graffiti, cars and buildings become props and facades and every passer-by is a potential extra, friend, lover or liberator. Working under the constraints of the time limit (the length of the DV tapes) the group set out to capture a great moment of emotion, passion and liberation on camera and bring it back to the waiting audience who themselves take part in the final scene, a heroes welcome. Once the tapes have rewound, performers and audience watch the results together. The sound is mixed live and scored with elements from film soundtracks. The result is an experience halfway between theatre and film that comments on our relationship to the urban environment. A movie that is both fantastical and documentary, that is at the same time a product and a process, both a 'making of' and the thing itself."
4 is this exploration of the terrifying and sublime with long-form improv masters TJ Jagodowski & Dave Pasquesi:
5 is this piece of wisdom about concentration and competition from Anna Deavere Smith, excerpted from her lovely, emboldening book Letters to a Young Artist:
"... You are after something which does not yet exist. Go for that thing that no one can teach you. Go for that communion, that real communion with your soul, and the discipline of expressing that communion to others. That doesn't come from competition. That comes from being one with what you are doing. It comes from concentration, and from your ability to be fascinated endlessly with the story, the song, the jump, the color you are working with."
6 is the medium- and genre-twisting art of Shelley Jackson's incredible ongoing project Skin, a 2095-word story to be published word by word on the bodies of volunteers:
In her words:
"How to Participate: 1. Write to the author and explain your interest in the project. 2. If you are accepted, the author will email you a Release of Liability. Print it out, complete and sign it, and mail it back. (You may also request a printed copy by post.) By signing the release you attest that you are fit to participate and choosing to do so of your own free will; you release the author from responsibility for tattoo-related misfortunes; you promise not to make public the text of the story; and you give your permission for documentation of the project to be exhibited and/or published. 3. You will receive a letter from the author specifying the word you are assigned.
...
From this time on, participants will be known as "words". They are not understood as carriers or agents of the words they bear, but as their embodiments. As a result, injuries to the printed text, such as dermabrasion, laser surgery, tattoo cover work or the loss of body parts, will not be considered to alter the work. Only the death of words effaces them from the text. As words die the story will change; when the last word dies the story will also have died. The author will make every effort to attend the funerals of her words."
7 is a Handy Tip (from Miranda July!) for the Easily Distracted:
From Jenna: "Now, you are free."
happy exploring!
:) devan
