Commands
(Mood music is tiny fragments of Beth Gibbons on her site. Fantastic new album which I recommend).
We were given rather distant, under whelming feedback on the soiree. I found it a bit sad. I thought we'd done a really good job and people were saying it was one of the better soirees they'd seen. We certainly didn't get that impression from the teachers. They said we seemed tenser than we had done the night before and were slightly off timing or rhythm as a result. That certainly was true of one of my pieces, but not of the other which went much better and much further in my performance than it ever had before. I'd always felt that that was the way to go, and knew there was more play there but the people I was playing with disagreed, or one of them. Anyhow I was a bit sad that they couldn't have been a bit more cheerful about our last soiree. Though I suppose not surprising that they weren't.
Then we were given our envelopes with our names printed on the outside and inside on a card with the school's logo our names and beneath our title, the final provocation. Jos made a point of saying that they were new titles and that they had been chosen randomly so not to try and read any great psychological depth.
Just to explain to the uniniated the commands are the final 'provocation' given by the school. We're given titles and then have three weeks to work on a present them entirely independently of the teachers. When we perform them for the public it's the first time they see them.
The general consensus of opinion is that they haven't been chosen randomly. They do seem to suit people's talents and style inclinations very specifically. I LOVE mine as a title, but haven't got any specific ideas of where to go.
I'm attacking it in a roundabout way. I'm going to do some sketching and go to galleries tomorrow and see what it throws up.
I think simplicity is key. Not trying to overreach myself. After all we only have between 2-7 minutes. Paola warned us that people had been stopped in the past.
We have a last lesson with each of the profs this week and then that's it. How can it be this week? The 20 movement are starting... hum. I really want to go and watch some of them, to see them with a year's distance.
I've kept notes every day about what we've done here. I read all last years over the summer and I think I'm going to try and read the whole lot of them tomorrow, just to refresh myself on all the width and possibilities we've been exposed to.
It's really important to me that I talk about a big something. Relationships, love, death. Perhaps obvious, but all the same.
Three weeks left. It's so sad I can't begin to confront it. I don't want to leave Paris. I suppose in theory I don't have to, but reality feels like I must. The idea of going back to London, skint, and living with my parents and having to pay out £100's of pounds to go to weddings and hen nights and visit all the new babies that are being produced... ahh I'm getting maudlin. Excuse me please. Definitely time for bed I think.
We were given rather distant, under whelming feedback on the soiree. I found it a bit sad. I thought we'd done a really good job and people were saying it was one of the better soirees they'd seen. We certainly didn't get that impression from the teachers. They said we seemed tenser than we had done the night before and were slightly off timing or rhythm as a result. That certainly was true of one of my pieces, but not of the other which went much better and much further in my performance than it ever had before. I'd always felt that that was the way to go, and knew there was more play there but the people I was playing with disagreed, or one of them. Anyhow I was a bit sad that they couldn't have been a bit more cheerful about our last soiree. Though I suppose not surprising that they weren't.
Then we were given our envelopes with our names printed on the outside and inside on a card with the school's logo our names and beneath our title, the final provocation. Jos made a point of saying that they were new titles and that they had been chosen randomly so not to try and read any great psychological depth.
Just to explain to the uniniated the commands are the final 'provocation' given by the school. We're given titles and then have three weeks to work on a present them entirely independently of the teachers. When we perform them for the public it's the first time they see them.
The general consensus of opinion is that they haven't been chosen randomly. They do seem to suit people's talents and style inclinations very specifically. I LOVE mine as a title, but haven't got any specific ideas of where to go.
I'm attacking it in a roundabout way. I'm going to do some sketching and go to galleries tomorrow and see what it throws up.
I think simplicity is key. Not trying to overreach myself. After all we only have between 2-7 minutes. Paola warned us that people had been stopped in the past.
We have a last lesson with each of the profs this week and then that's it. How can it be this week? The 20 movement are starting... hum. I really want to go and watch some of them, to see them with a year's distance.
I've kept notes every day about what we've done here. I read all last years over the summer and I think I'm going to try and read the whole lot of them tomorrow, just to refresh myself on all the width and possibilities we've been exposed to.
It's really important to me that I talk about a big something. Relationships, love, death. Perhaps obvious, but all the same.
Three weeks left. It's so sad I can't begin to confront it. I don't want to leave Paris. I suppose in theory I don't have to, but reality feels like I must. The idea of going back to London, skint, and living with my parents and having to pay out £100's of pounds to go to weddings and hen nights and visit all the new babies that are being produced... ahh I'm getting maudlin. Excuse me please. Definitely time for bed I think.
posted by lecoqblogger at 11:45 pm
1 Comments:
Good plan, me too.
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