PRIMARY 3 - Who Knows A Clapping Game?

By Georgia Clark

This was the first question put to us at the third of our explorations into ‘Primary Schools’. A mixture of tentative and enthusiastic hands went up, and those that didn’t know a clapping game were soon learning one from someone in the group that did. It did seem to fit the stereotype at first that it was predominantly the younger people and females in the group who had a game to teach, but the games and chants soon proliferated around and before long people were sharing their newly learnt game with someone else.

A simple exercise, but it brought the intergenerational value into sight as younger and older shared clapping games from their days in the playground, intersecting age, background and gender. Conversations I had with people that evening emphasised the value in the wide variety of people that take part in these sessions; a returning member said she comes back because ‘it’s inclusive, being here isn’t dictated by age or anything else’, another person who enjoyed her first session at Bubble last week, and plans to come back, shared her first impression of the group - ‘it’s interesting how many different backgrounds and ages there are here’.

When showing the clapping games back to each other, we pondered as a group what it is that makes clapping games an enduring phenomenon -  are they just something to do to extinguish playground boredom? Is it about something creative? Or is it about winning? A mum and daughter showed us back a clapping game that elicits a winner and a loser, the mum squealing as she made a mistake and lost. It seemed there was pleasure to be had in racing to go as fast as you could, with a mistake costing you the game.

Tic-tac-toe

Give me a high

Give me a low

Give me a three in a row

Don’t get hit by a UFO

Now who can remember making or looking at a ‘nature table’ at primary school? This was next on the evening’s agenda; in small groups we set about making our own ‘nature table’, the contents of which would be centred on one topic and could be as wide and as playful as our roaming imaginations. Groups set off round the Bubble building and surrounding park gathering objects to illustrate their chosen theme, thinking also about how to arrange and 'present' their table to the rest of the group. It was a rewarding exercise in thinking laterally about a topic and tuning into environment to spot objects that would convey an aspect of something, as well as an exercise in teamwork.

Attention and importance was given to the process of explaining and demonstrating the contents of each nature table; the group curating ‘water’ demonstrated buckets and bottles and watered some plants in front of us, the ‘rainbow’ team were inspired by the brightly coloured T shirts of the group and incorporated themselves into their nature table (the inclusion of the white/off white/yellow toilet roll caused confusion and discussion as its colour was debated!). It was interesting how the other themes - pets, summer, an office - had a similar simplicity and naivety to them. Maybe this was a reflection of how we were approaching the broader subject matter at the moment, or perhaps to do with people gently getting to know each other.

We wondered what our ‘nature tables’ of primary school might look and feel like if we were to curate one about school celebrations or teachers, or maybe school dinners, or the playground. A group applied this to 'school chants' by asking to be greeted with 'good morning everyone' before replying in monotonous unison with 'Good morning Mrs. Henderson’. What might the others be like?

And what if we did one about teachers? We would need to include their mannerisms and body language; it was time to get into our bodies and relive the physicality of being in that environment. To get this started we mirrored a partner’s movements in pairs, echoing the lines their limbs sketched out, and then mimicking the particularities of how that person walks across the room and sits in a chair. Watching these back as a group was entertaining and brought out people’s different nuances, it was a chance to get to know each other non-verbally by noticing each other’s movements and relationship to space.

Translating this into recalling our teachers movements brought into sharp relief some of the particular movements and body language we remembered from school. We curated these in small groups to perform back; the sharp, energetic and demonstrative pointing of one teacher balanced by the still, moody, expectant stance of another. Theatrical and dynamic sketches were beginning to emerge…

PRIMARY 2 - Salutes and Lifts

By Georgia Clark

At our second meeting the previous week’s memories of primary school had been strung back up and welcomed returning and new faces alike. After we had explained to those joining us for the first time what we had done the previous week, new faces were invited to add their memories to the collection.

Meanwhile, returning faces were asked to travel in their mind to a particular room, place or short journey that was significant in their experience of primary school, and write about it or draw it in detail. To begin unlocking some of the details of school buildings and our journeys to them we were asked to think about the smells, sounds and qualities of that place. 

We had begun the session with an amusing game of creating a ‘salute’ for each other in partners that were based on our day’s activity. We shared these back to the group, along with our names, and proceeded to wander around the room in wonderful chaos communicating with each other through our personalised salutes; it felt like the awkwardness and hilarity of this had shaken off some initial shyness at being in the same space, and enabled us to arrive in the room and be present together in some way.

With this initiation behind us, and a collection of new memories amassed, we re-joined as a group to listen to the memories of childhood which had just been harvested. The terrain was becoming more familiar now to those of us returning, and the recurrence of themes and images provoked great enjoyment or disgust in turn.

The exercise of taking a person to our chosen spot felt evocative for me, reminding me of how space affects our thoughts, feelings and movements, and vice versa. I took my partner inside the lift at the foot of the stairs in the Bubble building, which for me represented the phone box in my primary school boarding house where we'd take turns to slot our pre topped up phone cards in to the machine to call our parents. The tinny and unsentimental atmosphere of the lift lent itself well to transporting my partner and I to the place in my memory. I also listened to my partners chosen place, a section of the library with beanbags and stacks of books which you could retreat to in the early years of primary school, a comforting place to travel to which softened the rigidness of the lift.

Others travelled to their first aid room which ‘smelled of disinfectant but at the same time, biscuits’, or  classrooms with ‘the smell of school dinners’ wafting in through the door and ‘loads of colourful stuff on the walls’, music halls filled with piano notes, ‘a garden at the end of the playground’, spaces filled with sounds of ‘singing, giggling, laughter, footsteps and chatting’, a library with wooden shelves and tables, a dining hall with a cheerful dinner lady and the smell of fish fingers.

This felt like an exercise in tuning our senses in to the material, and preparing to recognise the sensory elements when ‘foraging’ for more information. The focused one to one listening about ‘place’ also felt like a precursor to the interviews ahead which some of us will carry out.

In a final task we considered how we could gather material about some of the different themes we had established, which generated ideas about things to begin looking for and bring to the next session; clapping games, school timetables, report cards, school songs.  

PRIMARY 1 - The start of a new project

By Georgia Clark

Last Thursday a group of people met at London Bubble to begin a conversation about how we remember and think about being at Primary School. We would also be thinking about how we could gather information about this time in life that most of us experience to develop a piece of theatre.

               

The evening began by us sharing our names and why we were here. Most of us had taken part in previous intergenerational projects with London Bubble, most recently Grandchildren of Hiroshima. As for me, I’m a member of Bubble’s Adult Drama group but this would be my first experience of taking part in Bubble’s intergenerational projects, and I was keen to see what we would get up to.

We were invited to think about and write down or draw memories of being at primary school. Sheets of paper were laid out on three different tables, and at each table we were invited to consider either the ‘early’, ‘middle’ or ‘final’ years of Primary School, including perhaps any experience we had of revisiting primary schools since leaving. We set to the task and began taking our minds back to days of running around playgrounds, navigating early friendships, the intriguing, comforting or unsettling quirks of our first teachers, and getting used to the norms and rules of school.  

A piece of rope strung out between two chairs accumulated these stories, impressions and scraps of memories as we attached our papers to them with wooden pegs, an evocative process in itself. With the group’s memories before us, we took it in turn to share verbally with each other what we had chosen to depict on paper. The personal nature of what we were sharing fostered an intimate and supportive atmosphere. I found that listening to everyone’s experience brought out diverse feelings; the stories were enlightening and funny as well as sometimes sobering and frustrating. As we listened to each other recount our memories, some themes were already beginning to emerge out of the similarities of our experiences.

Now that we had begun to scope out the material of our subject through our personal experiences, we came back together to name and explore what we felt were some common themes. The mind map we began spanned friendships, school values, games, teachers, rules, and a category reflecting the commonality of 'blood, sick and milk' in our memories, among others.

This week promises more thinking on how we will gather material to inform our exploration, as well as beginning to ‘sculpt’ and give form to our initial responses and ideas.

PROMMERSIVE IN BRIGHTON Part 3 - Digging for Shakespeare

Bright and early the coach from the centre set off into the outskirts of Brighton. To some allotments.

Digging For Shakespeare by Mark Rees aided and abetted by a lecturer, a superb actor/dancer/presence, a youth chorus and a huge valley of allotments and allotmenteers. Oh and the words of Shakespeare.

Mark in his tweed suit with orange tie, orange garters and orange megaphone (well.. more mustard but it was a good attempt) was our guide and focus. The show wove autobiography, local history, Shakespeare on nature, and really wierdy-wierd installation come dance-chant plus knitting and gifts. After a walk through the woods and a slide show in a machine shed, we were set free to roam. No headphones. No challenge. Just a rough map and an hour to wander in the hot May sun.

 

We clambered about in the patchwork valley chatted to the allotment holders and giggled at the knitted characters from Shakespeare presented in greenhouses and beside water butts. At first sight Digging for Shakespeare had no profound message - but the spirit of horticulture seemed to have been dug into the show. There was a relaxed generosity within the performance that seemed to match the burgeoning growth of the fruit and veg around us. At each orange flagged allotment we were invited to take a post card with a gardening tip. At the end we got a mug of tea and a Tunnocks tea cake.

I socialised with gardeners, fellow audience members and with Mark, our guide. My eyes were bathed with the relaxing greens of spring and my skin was warmed by the Sussex sun. I was concious of experiencing deep joy.

Writing now I realise that I very nearly mistook all this for the context - that initially I thought of the nature as a backdrop to the narrative. Reflecting some two weeks later I believe that our physical interaction with the allotment and the elements was the content.

Perhaps the humour and thoughtful words that went before were just preparing us for therapy.
Performance as preparation, then the setting as the maincourse - the content.

Make the audience chuckle, make them jump, make them think, then confine them in a dark shed listening to deep thoughts before setting them loose under the bright sky to commune with nature.

I wonder if that was the plot.

PROMMERSIVE IN BRIGHTON - Part 2

At dusk I received a text message from the Blast Theory/Hydrocracker axis with the location. Then on arrival, a second text suggesting I look around for fellow audience members - and yes, there were 9 of us in total - clutching fully charged phones and smiling nervously at each other.

Obeying another text we strode down the road to bang on the door of a boarded up shop and meet our 'handler' who would be 'running us'. This was good. I was convinced - well I wanted to support the endeavour because the acting was solid and the environment was credible and we were offered a mug of tea and I'm waiting for the last episode of Undercover to air on TV and this was a bit like being in it.

The briefing made it more intimidating - then off on our assignment. With our back story intact and working in teams of three we were off to infiltrate a right wing meeting at a disused pub in the back streets of Brighton.

After drinks, and nervous small talk I finally engaged with our 'POI' (I was too polite to ask at the briefing but assume it means 'person of interest'). And yes I got some 'dirt', not a lot, but enough to feel I'd delivered, and then we received the text - 'get out - it's going off' and were met in the street to be debriefed. This was the only disappointing bit for me - I wanted to go back to the room to find out more about what others had found out - I wanted my info put on their pin board with the mug shots.

At our second, post show, de-brief - chatting to the creative team later, we learnt the size of the project - a cast of over 30, some of whom were local amateurs. But it needed that - the pub wasn't heaving but there were enough drinkers to legitimise the alpha male brushing me out of the way as he passed.

The piece had been made with care, the improvisation/calculation had heft and the over-hanging sense of urgency, edginess and political extremism was on the money. And I got a lot of eye-contact from actors who were in the zone. Craft.

So after performance on a beach then a back street pub, what next ?

PROMMERSIVE IN BRIGHTON 1 - I'll tell you when I'm participating!

I'LL TELL YOU WHEN I'M PARTICIPATING !

Saw a perfectly nice piece of theatry-art this morning. Headphones, ponchos, hand stamp (number 1139) an hour long potter along the beach under the pretext that I and my partner (number 1138)  were visitors returning to earth sometime in the future to look at the remains of a holiday resort. I enjoyed it. Quite a lot of care had been taken making a binaural soundscape and burying bits and pieces in the pebbles.

                                                 Number 1139.

I had a nice time. Until I sat down afterwards and read the programme.

"AOD have developed a method of working that links choreography, sound and fine art to create a visual aesthetic that encourages interactive responses and all participants to become the active co-designers of their own exploration"

OK I missed the choreography - although maybe that was when we were asked to lie down, but there was no way I was an active co-designer. I followed instructions. I moved quickly when asked so that I wouldn't lose the thread. The idea suggested in the notes that "people are free to remove their headsets to talk" - suggesting freedom or disobedience is technically true but if you don't want to get left behind (or if you want to remain connected to the narrative) it is not possible.

"The pleasure of making participatory work is the exchange between imaginations: what we as artists create and what the participants then bring to that and share with each other." Sorry - there was no opportunity for me to share my imaginings with the artists - this was one way traffic. Yes our imagination is provoked by the props and instructions but we do not share with "each other".

This is sloppy thinking. This is gobbledygook arts-speak and as someone who make participatory, to an extent co-created participatory work - can I say this is not co-designed, and it's not really participatory work. Call the Art Police !

                                       Number 1138

The Work of Play (a guest blog by Adam Annand).

Adam is Associate Director at London Bubble (he's the one with the lighter hair)

At London Bubble we have been running the Speech Bubbles project in schools since 2009. The project has been developed to bring a playful, creative approach to support children in KS1 (aged 5-7 years) with their communication, confidence and wellbeing. The children we are working with have all been referred because they are not quite managing in the classroom and they need a little extra input. Working in small groups, no more than 10 at a time, we give the children the time and the space to tell their own imagined stories to an adult and then act them out in the small group. The evidence tells us that this is effective, that the children’s confidence, communication and wellbeing are improved and that this has a positive knock on effect of improving their literacy. The children thoroughly enjoy the programme; schools are keen to book it in, the drama practitioners and schools staff who work on it say that it is improving their practice and parent/carers are happy that their children are being creatively supported. 

Whilst this is all very positive, it does seem that that what we are doing in the sessions is increasingly at odds with the rest of what is happening in KS1. In Speech Bubbles the children are learning through play, they move around, they tell whatever story they want to tell, in whatever way they want to tell it. Perhaps we should be saving this stuff for the early years, the nursery and reception classes where it seems a more natural fit? 

Then I remembered this passionate, urgent and insistent creative piece told in Speech Bubbles by a six year old boy for acting out by his peers. This boy was struggling in the formal classroom, but was thriving in Speech Bubbles sessions;

I play music, I play jumping, I play Ben 10, I play sonic, I play power rangers and I play games and I play jumping and racing, I play skipping and jumping and I play games

Ok so this is useful, it reminds me of why we are doing what we are doing, but still we seem to be flying in the face of fashion, should this just be for the early years? So I went in search of reading, or guidance about learning through play in KS1. I searched and searched and I struggled to find reading to support the work, everywhere I looked, everyone I asked pointed me to great resources, but they were all for the early years; books, activities, schemes of work but nothing substantial for KS1.  

So I decided to go to the top, the Department for Education must have something to say on this matter, I follow them on twitter so I sent this tweet;

@educationgovuk what advice is there for learning through play in KS1?

And got this back, 

@londonbubble_ed  One for Ofsted rather than us, this is useful: http://ow.ly/X0DIR

I replied, 

@educationgovuk Thank you. That report is about early years just wondered if you have anything about play in KS1? I will ask @Offsted news

and I got this reply from Ofsted,

@londonbubble_ed nothing specific to KS1, but this may be useful? : http://ow.ly/X0DIR

IT’S THE SAME EARLY YEARS REPORT!!!!!!

Surely learning through play can't be over by the time you're 5! If it is then I’m not sure what our six year old who likes to play will have to say about it, not that anybody is asking him.

To top all of this, I have been hearing how in some year 1 classrooms things have changed dramatically in the last couple of years, increasing pressure on English and Maths has led to much more formal teaching. From parents, teachers and support staff I have heard stories of the adults and children becoming increasingly frustrated and constrained.  Two particular anecdotes stand out: 

A year 1 teacher planning to give up at the end of this year because she didn’t have time to read her class a story until January, (that’s four months into the school year!) 

A friend who is a parent of a boy in year 1 being astonished by the changes since her older child was in year 1 (he’s only in year 3 now) because the lack of play opportunities was making the children ‘sad’. 

So how relieved was I to find this petition https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/121681 asking for an extension of the early years curriculum from, birth to 5 years to birth to 7 years. The petition has been set up in light of growing concerns about children’s mental health, illiteracy and teachers leaving the profession in droves. 

Of course there was no guidance on learning through play outside of the early years, because 5-7 really is part of the early years, if only we would recognise it as such. 

The children in Speech Bubbles have all been referred with a communication need that is stopping them effectively managing in the classroom. Those children take 45 minutes away from the curriculum each week to make up stories and act them out, and they enjoy it, they smile, they have a twinkle in their eyes, they laugh, they move around and they have ownership of their own stories. However, at a time when 8 year olds in England are reported as 13th out of 16 countries for self-reported ‘happiness’ it strikes me that we have to move to a system that gives teachers space and time to bring some of that playful learning to all children, 

So go on sign the petition https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/121681

PS In case this all sounds a little arty and not that rigorous you can check out our evidence of impact here http://project-oracle.com/projects/info/speech-bubbles/

On the ownership of theatre (or, sounding like a hippy in Bristol).

I was invited by Neil Beddow at ACTA in Bristol to make a short contribution to a seminar on Ownership in/of Community Theatre.

After talking a bit about how Bubble go about creating a feedback loop between volunteer artists and specialist artists I tried to make a more oblique point - that you can't actually own theatre.

What I was trying to say was that Theatre in it's purest form, exists in the space between the actors and the audience - in the moment that the person watching responds to the performer, and the performer responds to the response. That moment is ephemeral, and it can't be owned.

We try to find ways to own theatre. Tickets, Scripts, DVD's, live cinema screenings. But are these not just reports of the sightings of theatre. If the actor cannot respond to the gasp or chuckle of the audience - if the audience are deprived of their rarely used, but highly feared, right to boo because they aren't there, then it's not actually theatre.

The response to my brilliant observation was polite silence and questions about other things I'd talked about. Maybe my point was blindingly obvious. Maybe it's just irrelevant. What I had suggested certainly wasn't a direct response to the question.

But in a way it was. One of the foundations stones of theatre (and certainly of community theatre), is sharing. The sharing of a word, action or story by a performer. The gift of listening and emotional engagement given by the audience. The dance between the two. And when it works well, the possibility that not only are the audience plugging in emotionally, they are also thinking ahead -deducing what might happen next. So rational brain and emotional brain are at work simultaneously, while outwardly we lean forward to signal our support for the actor to continue the journey.

It all requires sharing. And the moment cannot and should not be owned.

I think what Neil intended us to discuss was how some professional artists might disallow the voice of the participant artists and how some processes sometimes abuse the power relationship. But I believe that if we bear in mind that that theatre is created between us, then it's very existence is defined by, and dependent on, co-ownership.

Joining up the dots.

I've been meaning to write about the need for small-scale arts organisations to connect with each other. I believe we need to join forces, to compare methods, to explain what we do - we need to connect, assemble and aggregate. 

Bubble recently offered a flat pack version of a script to other small organisations to read locally and I've written previously about Hiroshima Dispersed - it was a simple idea and worked pretty well. Some of the responses are below - and I want to share them as they capture how people truly appreciated working locally and globally. 

FROM PUNE

To be a part of something that is much bigger than you, is a strange feeling. The emotion that such an experience stirs may range from being completely humbled to feeling immensely powerful. The humility stems from realizing how insignificant you are in the larger scheme of things; while the sense of power is inspired by the knowledge that your actions, no matter how small, contribute to this whole.

This ‘feeling’ is impossible for me to articulate in any language and the attempt in the previous lines may have been futile. But I felt just that, as part of a small, seven-member team that recently performed a reading of a play, to an audience of about 35 people, at an unconventional venue (a rock themed coffee bar) in Pune, on a sleepy (and rainy) August afternoon.

However, it wasn’t much the location, the weather or the size of the audience that made a difference. The feeling stemmed from what I was a part of – the play itself – The Grandchildren of Hiroshima – true stories of real people who survived the atomic bombing in Hiroshima.

Initiated as an oral history and performance project, by London Bubble, a London based theatre group, in the year 2014, ‘The Grandchildren of Hiroshima’ is rooted in interviews between local children in Hiroshima and survivors who were the children’s age when the bomb was dropped. The project aimed to reach out to people across the world through community performances in August 2015 to commemorate the 70^th anniversary of the Hiroshima bombings.

On August 6^th 2015 and over that weekend, community theatre groups across Hiroshima, London, Wimborne, Palestine, Johannesburg, Brisbane, Milwaukee and Manila performed readings of ‘The Grandchildren of Hiroshima.’ And we (Orchestrated Q’Works) became a part of this inspirational global movement by reading the play in Pune.

Weeks before our performance, when we had started rehearsing, these powerful human stories of people residing miles away initiated a subliminal emotional upheaval in me. I knew I might never be able to truly empathize with them, as I have never been through such horrifying circumstances myself. It made a part of me feel grateful for my own protected life. However this gratitude was smeared with a sense of melancholy as somewhere I could sense a portion of the pain they had endured.

Most of these stories are very detailed and skillfully paint a vivid picture of the massive destruction and it’s agonizing after-effects. Part of the play also presents historical facts about the bomb, the war and the politics and conspiracy behind it.

But beyond all the politics and war, these were stories of real human suffering, tales of survival against all odds and most of all rebuilding life and one’s own being, piece by piece. Underlying somewhere in the recounting of all the demolition and death, is a story of hope and peace – a story that goes beyond the bounds of language, age, culture and borders. 

Being able to share these stories; being a part of the vessel that transmitted the energy in these stories to others was an unforgettable experience. At the end of the performance, when we bowed, there was a sense of oneness … with the team, the audience, groups across the world who organized similar readings and with Hiroe, Hiroko, Teruko, Suzumi, Fumiaki and others who’s stories we shared through the play.

A feeling that is both humbling and empowering at the same time.

Contributed by Ritwik Borthakur

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FROM SOUTH AFRICA

Just wanted to give you feedback on the 6th August reading. We were a small group of 11 including my 7 year old daughter who sat through the reading listening intently.

We created an 'alter' of sorts with the image of the river and 7 candles which were lit each representing one of the rivers. We sat in a semi circle and basically read the script one line at a time going around in the circle, this was the best solution and worked well. At the end of the reading we had at least an hour sharing where all of us shared our responses and thoughts to the reading. This was very productive and heartfelt. Some of the reflections were profound and initiated a discussion of the contemporary relevance of the Hiroshima bombing, especially in post apartheid South Africa.

Thanks again for this opportunity, we thoroughly enjoyed being part of this process.

I hope to send a small video soon.

All the best

Colin

FROM MANILLA

Here are a few pictures from our gathering on Thursday. It was a tight international group of 12 (artists, cultural workers from different regions in the country), a good number for creating the intimate feel we wanted. Aside doing the reading (improvising props with whatever was at the house which also serves as a semi-storage room for our Ensemble!), we folded paper cranes, feasted together, and had charged conversations on peace, our role as artists and social beings in keeping & creating it, and what greater togetherness and solidarity can mean for us today. 

Thank you so much for giving us the opportunity to be one with you in this. We appreciate everyone's effort and generosity! It's been especially exciting to read how the readings have gone all over the world.

Wishing we meet in person soon!

All the best,
Sarah (in behalf of everyone from Sipat Lawin Ensemble)

FROM PALESTINE

Dear Colleagues, 

Hope that my email finds you well. I have attached here some pictures for our reading. It is worth mentioning that the event was attended by more than 150 individuals. In my next emails, I'll share you articles and TV interviews that were conducted by Palestinian and Japanese journalists to cover the reading.

Note: One of the Japanese citizens who is visiting Palestine right now, came to attend the event and brought with him a flame from Hiroshima that it is still lightning since 1945 as a symbol of peace. 

Regards

Saja Shami

Yes Theatre

00972- 2- 2291559

 https://www.facebook.com/pages/Yes-theatre-Palestine/289764851145997?fref=ts

FROM WIMBORNE

Dear Dispersers,

First, the twelve of us gathered in the nearby White Hart garden for a planning pre-read.  As we left to make our way to the Minster Green, a gardener having a pint, said, “I’m not into culture, but that was very interesting.’  

In the shadow of the War Memorial, commemorating the lives of local men who died in both World Wars, we laid several kimonos in the shape of the rivers and positioned ourselves in a semi-circle.  We wore black with brightly coloured scarves.  

Over twenty people gathered on the grass and the memorial steps to listen as we read ‘The Grandchildren of Hiroshima’ by Misaki Setyoyama, accompanied at times by live flute and recorded rivers - as well as the real sounds of aeroplanes, car horns, and rubbish trucks.  When we spoke the storytellers’ memories, we held up their portraits.     

A Japanese women and her daughter  travelled many miles to hear the reading and were moved by the retelling of the story they know so well. Somebody brought a basket of origami cranes to distribute to the listeners, and as we handed them around at the end of the reading, a dove was spotted flying over our heads to join its partner on a nearby roof.

Thank you, Peth and London Bubble, for this opportunity to look beyond our own lives, and to learn. We look forward to hearing more accounts.

Good wishes from Wimborne Community Theatre

Gill Horitz
on behalf of Wimborne Community Theatre 

www.wimbornecommunitytheatre.co.uk

FROM BRISBANE

At 8.15 Hiroshima time, we observed a minute's silence, standing in the space where third generation hibakusha Yukiyo Kawano's soft sculpture of "Little Boy" was hung, as a centre piece in our exhibition of artworks developed with atomic survivor communities. Simultaneously, on the other side of the Pacific, Yukiyo herself was also standing silent with a group beside a replica of her "Little Boy" sculpture in the Seattle Asian Art Museum. For us this was the start of a two day seminar attended by students, academics, art workers and others at Queensland University of technology, in their multi-media venue "The Block". We had twenty people present on that morning. After the minute's silence we proceeded with our reading of "Grandchildren of Hiroshima" and then discussion of the script. We selected Fumiaki's story to develop into a filmed reading, with "Little Boy" as the backdrop. We went for the simplest of staging – to speak the lines around a circle, facing each other, allowing contemplation of the words, rehearsal of the lines, and ultimately the filming. Once we'd done that we reflected on our responses to the reading and the play overall. Perhaps our feelings were best summed up by one of the students present. She had spent a year in Japan, and was familiar with Hiroshima and its Peace Park, and she told how moved she was by reading part of one family's story – at one stage almost unable to get the words out because she felt emotional, but determined to do them justice. We all felt very privileged to play a part in the project, and grateful that we'd made the connection that has allowed us to share in this important work. We will shortly edit and make available the film version of Fumiaki's story, along with coverage of the discussion we had after the reading. 

Many thanks to London Bubble and all the contributing individuals and groups.

Best wishes

Paul

Paul Brown

Hon. A/Prof Institute of Environmental Studies, UNSW

Creative Producer Nuclear Futures

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FROM BOHOL

Dear Jonathan and  All

Good evening.

We NGO Ikaw-Ako in Bohol, Philippines finished our reading program today.

We held it at one elementary school in Ubay Bohol, explained about Hiroshima,

World was 2 and atomic bomb a little bit and read the script with 87 grade6 students

, 4teachers and one JICA staff and 2Ikaw-Ako staff at 9am.

We gave the script to school one week before we hold the program but

students prepared very well.

They read Fumiaki's parts.

We didnt have any music and items, so it wasn't a play but they enjoyed it.

Thank you very much to give us this oppotumity!

For Ikaw-Ako its first time to have like this program, because we focus on

environment basically and mostly our activity is mangrove planting ,

but it was nice challenge.

I put some photos today as attached file.

Thank you very much.

Best regard,

Miyuki Fukuda

Coordinator

Ikaw-Ako Bohol

FROM MILWAUKEE

Dear Dispersers-

Wishing you all meaningful readings and presentations of Hiroshima Dispersed.  I was reunited today in Milwaukee, USA with a wonderful former student of mine, Anne Schulthess, who I last saw in 1999.  Anne lives in London now, and with Bubble Theatre and Peth, brought this to my attention.  She will be with us in Milwaukee, USA tomorrow evening and join us in the reading of the play as a part of the American Alliance of Theatre Educators conference, where 350 Theatre Educators will be here and some will participate in the hearing and reading of this play.  Our presentation is scheduled for the Milwaukee Hilton City Center, Juneau Room, 5^th floor with young performers and adult performers at 4:00 pm Central Standard Time  (Milwaukee/Chicago time).  I believe we will be either the last or one of the last readings as these will begin shortly.

Thank you all and hoping for meaningful reports from you all.

Jeff Schaetzke
Company Manager

325 West Walnut Street | Milwaukee, WI 53212
(414) 267-2985 direct | (414) 267-2930 fax

FROM TOKYO

As promised, here's some photos from the event. We invited a "Tipi" making artist who makes Native American style tents with second hand materials.

After the talk back session, audience and participants and staff(Yes all of us)  joined to add a small decollation on the tipi with pieces of used kimono.

I hope you enjoy them!

In the post showing discussion, there were many participants and audiences who showed strong interests on knowing more about the war history and they mostly gave positive comments on the script as well as the entire project.

Best regards,

Yorie

FROM DEPTFORD IN LONDON

Our reading took place at the Deptford Creekside centre an extraordinary environmental education centre in the heart of South London on the edge of a creek which carries the water from the Quaggy, the Pool and the Ravensbourne rivers into the mighty river Thames. 

Exactly 70 people gathered to remember the events of 70 years ago. (It wasn’t planned that way but that is honestly how many people turned up.) Together we made and decorated lanterns and as the light began to fade, the script was read. As requested in the instructions we let the words do the work, adding just a few moments of simple imagery, wild rice scattered on a white sheet to represent the black rain, lanterns raised on poles during the final testimony.

The lanterns we had made earlier in the evening were carried down to the creek and people gathered on a footbridge to watch them being floated towards the Thames.

As a nod to the next part of the project in London, ‘After Hiroshima’ which will gather testimony about the Anti nuclear and Peace movement,  the evening was supported by a simple rendition of songs from the peace movement including Tom Paxtons  ‘Peace will come’. Amidst the noise and bustle there were moments when the city seemed to go quiet and reflect with us.

Adam Annand

FROM A READER IN WIMBORNE

I felt it was very powerful to read such moving stories while the world around us kept on moving.

A dust cart was uploading rubbish.

A child was singing and playing on the green near our performance place.

People were walking by chatting.

Normality and all I kept thinking was this is how it must have been just before the bomb was dropped in Hiroshima and how would my town be if that happened now.

The vulnerability of lives came across by performing it in such a familiar and open space.

Best wishes, Tracie.

Laying the table and lighting the candles

We are about to start the technical rehearsal of Grandchildren of Hiroshima It's quite a complicated show, many sound queues, quite a lot of lighting, puppetry, live overheard projection and various everyday objects. We have an excellent crew, and it's fascinating for me, as a stage manager/technician in a previous life, to watch how the technicians work with an application and precision which is admirable.

I'm writing as the lights are focussed with a long pole*, and Sayuri San (who I have cast as the stage-servant) practises manipulating a glass cup above the light of the projector. Into the cup she will pour water and then droplets of ink - the black rain that fell after the bomb.

The audience will be sat on two sides in traverse, looking on to a wide long stage space which gives the cast of 21 space to run , and throws balls, and fire elastic projectiles.

Around the room are the props, 5 large brooms which silently sweep away the rivers of Hiroshima, narrow copper pipes that drip water, and tiny houses on stilts which light up behind the audience as Hiroshima is re-built.

In two hours the cast will arrive to get into costume. The magic of the space, equipped and theatrically lit will excite them and the adrenalin will kick in. The work they have done over the last two weeks, working 12 of the last 14 days, deserves this.

Meanwhile around the world, 10 other small groups are getting nervous about their reading of Grandchildren of Hiroshima. In Wimborne they will sit in a semi circle on the village green, in Brisbane beneath a sculpture of the bomb, 'Little Boy', made from fragments of Kimono sewn with hair, in Manilla they will share a meal, in Milwaukee it is part of a conference of educators, in Palestine it is being read in Arabic and televised, in Pune, Delhi, Bohol and Belgium plans are being finalised, and in Deptford in London, Bubble participants, actors and board members will hold a public reading at the Creekside Centre in Deptford.

Our best wishes from Hiroshima go to all those groups.


*actually after I wrote that, an electrician climbed up a tall ladder tied to a table top on wheels - frightening looking home made Tallascope, from which she is doing the 'Shoot' or focus.

Confidence and the balloon

When I am asked what's the point of people making theatre I often talk about building confidence. We put it in funding applications and wax lyrical in reports about how people grow. But not only does it sound patronising, the claim can lack evidence and can be misleading.

It can sound like theatre requires people to speak more loudly or stand more upright - and that adds to the common assumption that theatre is acting. Acting a text by a playwright.

Instructing people to 'be confident' is like trying to inflate a balloon by pulling the outside apart. Confidence - surety, congruence, comes from our centre. Confidence is keyed by feelings. When we say something and others agree or approve - we feel affirmed... and we say more.

When making theatre with an intergenerational group, we regularly sit in a circle and listen to what people have to say. We affirm or disagree respectfully. We model good listening. Adults and children are equals. We shape the opinions and ideas into something to be said collectively and artfully to the outside world (and in this case world is the right word).

Yesterday I read through a report on Bubble's Speech Bubbles* project - another example of creative listening and I was struck by a quote from a teacher's report on a child:

Pre project ‘Below AET (Age Expected Target), reluctant to speak in class, poor listening skills, low confidence when speaking to adults ’

Post project ‘AET, more eye contact, engages fully in learning, speaks out in class, questions if unsure’

This mirrors what I see happening to Hikaru, a 7 year old girl who joined our Hiroshima project quite late, and who I wrote about in my last post.

Hikaru now has lines. A few days ago she took on her first text - the words of a girl searching for her family through the radio. Calling, 'I am here' her voice was plaintive and barely audible. Then we created a story told by a chorus, and Hikaru was given more to say 'I needed to run away', and 'close to me was already burning', and 'she groaned'.  She learned the lines by the next rehearsal. (Well nearly... there was the run through when we got to her line and everything had to stop while she crossed the rehearsal room, found her script, found the right page, checked the line, walked back to her place and then said, 'she groaned').

Now Hikaru also has lines in the end section, but this is her own text. This has come from a recent exercise which asked the children their opinion about war - in the discussion Hikaru said 'I think it's ok to fight, but you have to sympathise and listen to people too'. Her opinion has now become her lines. We want the children to interrupt the solemnity of the narrator to deliver these lines directly to the audience  - in Japan children are not expected to speak up, but the current generation are growing up in a country whose Prime Minister is seeking to change the constitution, signed in 1945, which forbade the maintenance of an army. The Hibakusha (survivors) want the children to speak up in a way their generation did not. Many of the Hibakusha vehemently oppose the Prime Minister's suggestion but seeing the children speak out also means that perhaps their messages of peace have been heard.

If we have no opportunity to speak, if others put us down, we are hurt and remain silent, we don't want to feel that hurt again, it is safer to say nothing. Before long, we have no voice. The process of making theatre is built on many strategies for getting people to speak out - to pool information or disagree. Performance outcomes can present a magnification of that voice - and yes at that point people need to stand tall and speak clearly.

But do the behaviours we practice in the rehearsal room/speech bubbles session, transfer to the outside world ?  Do those feelings engendered in the artificial tribe become extinguished by the reality of the classroom or office. I can't prove it. But I do know that Hikaru is enjoying herself hugely - and that she is watching her mother enjoying herself too. And I do so recognise the observations of that teacher.

*Speech Bubbles is delivered to groups of 10 children at a time, once a week for a year, by a drama facilitator and teacher. The children who would benefit most are referred by the class teacher who also helps evaluate the outcome. The core activity is the gathering of stories from individual children. These dictated stories are then acted out by the whole group. For more information go to http://www.londonbubble.org.uk/projectpage/speech-bubbles/