Shifting Sands & Hidden Sounds

In May I joined Gerry Flanagan of Shifting Sands for two days as part of their week of rehearsals in the School of Arts, Media and Creative Technology at the University of Salford.

This blog is in memory of a lovely performer Fergus Caird, who was working with Gerry and the team on 'Assylum'.

Gerry showed us how devising through Physical Theatre exercises can lead you directly towards a show structure. He approached each exercise not only a loosening up but as a way into a potential scene or thematic ideas. Very quickly we had bouffons whose politica is ambiguous: are they seers or conspiracy theorists? Are they insightful geniuses or clueless idiots? The movement between positions was constant and fluid. Add to that a movement between the individual and the group and you begin to develop enough dynamic fluctuation and counterpoint for the beginnings a story. Central to this was the importance in many exercises, of flow and stop. The sudden halt, if a way of punctuating, spotlighting a thought process revealed in the body. And within moments the energy churning inside pushes the performer onto another round of improvisation.

Bouffons are hidden under calico and bedsheets and sheets of newspaper, attacked by tennic balls and insults. They must say thank you and think of ways to please - like by singing - all the while abusing any bouffon individual whose smell or look brings more trouble and attention to their own group.

After improvisation, motifs emerge, and phrases important to each character - a group of beggars who exemplify us, 'normal people'. In classic Bouffon style they are mocking, eager to please, sycophants who are nonetheless full of scorn.

Facial warm up. Articulations. Isolating parts of body including the neck then shaking and rotating, add hmmm and mmm, moving forward, stopping in your tracks. Exploring the speed of walking, on an imaginary grid. Picking up patterns from one another. Not just contemporary movement, but leading into encounters, echoes, and from their to allegiences, group behaviour, and speech.

When speaking we were encouraged to slow down, keep things simple, breaking up sentences, play with rhythm - anything to give space for audience to listen and interpret and add their own meaning and interpretation.

Twisting rotating lying to standing and stretching in an expressive stretch that removes inhibition and allows you to sigh, call out, expressing joy in the voice. This turns into shared rhythmic noises and song.

In a contrasting and more respectful mode, performers go to stand at the 'graveside', looking into the grave. One after another they utter some minimal text, or just give a nod. Then a short bit of praise … this builds comic tension, actors can’t help laughing -they cover it by pretending to cry on each other's shoulders) eg someone tries to list the sales he walked on and is interrupted by someone else. 'Say an epitaph and leave' -

Em adds music to punctuate.. ukeleles playing chords, then little dissonant flourish or melodic trace, then a quick burst of song. This is a contrast to punctuate the mourners’ text  (they can say the truth about the dead person) - who are the players? angels? the mourners become their chorus.

How to build a scene: imagine you are walking into a vast space say one word to describe the space - very gently quietly - see the scale all around yourself , speak softly then build up. Return to say the simple plain fact using the same word

Call the audiences ‘wankers’ and other insults with the same awe: result - irony, comedy 

Just say the facts ‘tosspot” equally funny.

With Haddon Mike, we explored choral work, singing in harmony, influenced by Jason Collister's way of conducting the audience to offer a chorus for Queen's 'Somebody to Love Me'. The songs and text begin to add up: outsiders, versus normality, rejects looking for love.

On Day 2 Guy, from Lancaster/Liverpool refers us to Carlos Sagan's Pale Blue Dot (2016)

After limbering and loosening, rising and falling in counterpoint to the Grand old Duke of York, Gerry gives us two tennis balls: one to put under the coccyx, one under your head. You breathe and push down.

Then an exercise familiar to many workshoppers: "the walker". The walker is looking for a chair to sit on, but is prevented by the room full of people, all seated. There is one seat. And they will stop the walker getting to it. How ? Diving bodies, clattering chairs, spread eagled comedy.

Then a similar game - four chairs, one in each corner, and a performer in each corner to hold on to a chair. Who can switch positions without being caught by someone in the centre? These are exercises in listening, looking, working with each other to achieve something, a core requirement of the bouffon-esque ensemble. After all this and more ranting about frustrations, you make some joyful attempts at the thing you always wanted to do. You can do this now with the backing of your motely crew of workshopping actors. Through this exercise we land on something very profound. About being a meaningless speck in the universe with ridiculous human dreams and a need for the love and support of a community.

All the participants including Leroy, the show technician, went to eat with Walk The Plank at their base in Cobden Street, Salford. They have an impressive venue and a fantastic resource for the City of Salford and the North West.

We also went to see their canal audio and walking performance, the Hidden Canal on Saturday 18th May 2024, an dyou can still download the Sound Walk. I have to say it was not quite ready in May, and we only saw a portion of the potential experience, given that it also exists as a multimedia experience. On 18th May 2024 it was part of a Bank Holidayt festival. Rebecca Long-Bailey was there and there was a strong sense of the contribution that theatre companies make to social development. Sometimes the latter leads the theatre, and the event drowns out the art, but I hope you get a chance to explore the genuinely Hidden Canal in your own time.