Archives for posts with tag: reflections
Why did I start the year with a picture of ducks?
I want to tell you a story that has kept me pondering since Christmas and I can’t solve the riddle about what life is trying to tell me here, and what the moral of the story is supposed to be.
When we went to the farm this Christmas, the ducklings had hatched. Fourteen of them. By the time we arrived there were only eleven left. Three disappeared during the night without trace. The next night was fine, the family was okay, but the following night the numbers were decimated, leaving five, and the day after Boxing Day all the ducklings were all gone. Isn’t that sad? I look at their lovely mellow faces, so content and clueless. Oh, dear!
But this is not the end of the story. While the duck and the drake had a full nest of eggs, the old chick in the pen next to the ducks tried to brood some eggs as well, but to no avail. The whole affair was rather doomed, as there is no rooster about. Still, she was sitting on these duds for ages, not wanting to admit defeat. Luckily the duck had actually laid sixteen eggs, but wasn’t big enough to cover all of them. So two were given to the old hen. The dud eggs were replaced and the hen continued sitting on the duck eggs instead. Sure enough, when time came, these ducklings hatched as well though they shouldn’t be called ducklings, but rather chicklings. Mother hen was clucking around them and like every good mother tried to teach them all she knew about life. Like how to scatch for food (pretty difficult with webbed feet) or having a sand bath. While a couple of feet away the duck family was happily paddling ab0ut in the plastic pond. At night though, the chicken took the chicklings under her wings and that is how they survived. I wonder at what point they will find out that they are not chickens and whether they can survive life with the experience that is handed down to them by their surrogate mother. I certainly hope that the story has an equally happy ending like in the fairy tale by H C Anderson: The Ugly Duckling.
I wish all my readers a very Happy New Year. Also, a warm and sincere THANK YOU to everyone who has contributed to the story in 2013. No doubt the Dedes will continue with their mischief in 2014. Although, they have been relatively quiet lately, I can hear them rustling in their cupboard.
This morning Mouse walked up to Push Push, tutu in hand, and said “You shouldn’t give up. I had a go, it is not as easy as it looks.”
“I try and try and try so hard. I don’t seem to get anywhere” Push Push replied. “You know, at one stage you just run out of steam.”
“That is a common, but true tale. If you do something unusual, you get knocked back more often. You have to admit we are more used to dancing fairies than elephants” said Mouse when she handed over the dress. “I’d say, stick to your guns girl! And maybe compare yourself with elephants, not fairies, for now.”
I had a hard time last night convincing Push Push to publish her video. After all, it is her performance and she has to okay it. (Note to self: Ask for signature before start of recording!). Last night she was exhausted and utterly dissappointed by the reaction of the audience. “They’re Philistines! All of them!” she exclaimed.
When I showed her the film, she had to admit, that she was slightly out of time. She turned round and blamed me for this. Could you believe it? She had in fact practised with a totally different and very nice classical piece. It was me who made her change it at the last minute as her first choice was copyrighted. Note by Push Push: Never let anybody bully you into last minute changes!
She lamented that you get judged by the result, and the result only. The viewers have no idea how much time and hard work goes into practise, practise, practise. And worst are the critics. They sit on their silly red sofa and with one shake of their head they can knock your confidence for good.
I tried to console her. It wasn’t that bad at all… but judge for yourself.
The rucksack must have become uncomfortable during the night and they found their way out. But they only made it a few steps to the side, to the rolled-up yoga mat. There I found them in the morning. L’Artiste staring depressed into space, Mitzi squinting up at me, I don’t know what she is thinking, but she seems to be okay as long as she has a lap to sit on. I have to admit, I am not particularly good with depressed puppets, so pretended I didn’t see them as I walked past on my way to the kitchen. Monkey, who was right behind me, stopped and told L’Artiste in clear words he should snap out of it. Life is hard for everybody. L’Artiste said lamely, “Leave me alone, I want to wallow in my sorrow.”
Monkey shrugged his shoulders. “Ah well then, you can’t be helped!”
And I thought: what happened to my poor Dedes? They were such a fun bunch to have around. I really have to engage them in new projects.
I just realised I haven’t written for a week. Oh, dear! There isn’t much to report as I am busy tying up loose ends. I think next week the builders will finally move out. What should have taken four months took six. You can imagine what this did to the budget, can’t you? There is still heaps for us do do when the builders have gone. I am really longing to set my studio up and get back into creating.
Yesterday, Snotty Nosed Prince and I went for an outing to Waiheke, an island in the Hauraki Gulf, just 30 minutes from Auckland by ferry. I have been invited to show my work in a Gallery that specialises in art from recycled materials. Snotty Nosed Prince definitely has an issue with the connotation of being made from inferior materials. I had hoped that when I showed him all the other artworks he would become more comfortable with his roots. Gee, he is a funny chap. He just can’t stop pooh poohing everything around him. I assume this gives him a feeling of superiority. When we had a coffee he was constanly making snide remarks about the other patrons and the service. He couldn’t put me off though, I had the best panini in a long time. I am happy that it was a day trip only. There is no way I would like to spend more time with Snotty Nosed Prince. He would drive me up the wall.
Look at this. We went to the beach after lunch. It must be a poor person who can’t have fun at the beach. It was only when I told him a mermaid lived under the driftwood that he became more interested and picked up a few pieces to move them to the side. But fun he did not have! And the mermaid remained elusive too.
I forgot to tell you yesterday that Calamaty actually did make a friend in Melbourne. Of course he was drawn to Gary, the puppeteer. It is hard to believe that these two guys had never met before. The similarity of their profiles is remarkable, isn’t it?
Watching Gary perform with his paper puppets was absolutely amazing. The most interesting aspect of the show is that Gary doesn’t use language with his puppets! This doesn’t mean the puppets aren’t communicating with each other. They do! They chat away using made up words, laughes, shrieks, cries. They are able to express the entire array of emotions without a single recognisable word and of course they use body language extensively.
I always thought words are pivotal in puppet shows. My Dedes definitely need their written story – at least on the blog! Text explains the still images and brings the puppets to life.
However, performing is a completely different ball game. As you might know, I have held a few workshops where people played with the Dedes. One of my observations is that the puppets are a brilliant ice breaker to get the conversation going. Once people are on a roll, they forget about their puppet and it might sit limp on their knee and watch while the oral story takes over. I am now convinced, when we remove language from the play, the focus will stay on the puppet.
I thought I will give it a go and take the Dedes back to their roots. After all, they are dada inspired. Dada was an anti-artform that encompassed every aspect of art: Visual, Performance and Poetry as well. I never really warmed to the Dada poems, but seeing Gary’s performance it finally occured to me that of course dada poems have to be seen, not just heard or read. So I invited four people to my new studio to give it a go. Funnily enough, I haven’t heard back from any of them yet.
Maybe they were put off because I said they should make up their own Dada poem. It is not really that difficult. Here are instructions by Tristan Tzara, one of the Dada poets:
To Make A Dadist Poem
Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.
Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag.
Shake gently.
Next take out each cutting one after the other.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.
The poem will resemble you.
And there you are–an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd.Tristan Tzara
Of course these are still recognisable words (and this poem even makes sense. Very unusal for a Dada poem :). I really should go one step further and take a foreign languge newspaper….
We had to leave the house for the weekend as the floors were being sanded and coated. So we went and visited family up north on the farm. A place without cell phone reception and internet – Bliss! Ah, Bliss is a puppet I don’t have yet… As soon as I get my studio space I will start on that one :)
Being away from the Dedes pushed me off cloud nine and I have found my grounding again. I see there are a few avenues opening. I’ve been invited to exhibit some of the Dedes in a gallery that is dedicated to recycled art on Waiheke, an island just off Auckland. I love Waiheke, but haven’t been there for ages, so this is a very good excuse to visit again. They are interested in running a workshop as well and asked if I could do it during the next holidays. While I could have done it, I decided to postpone it for a little, as I have booked myself into a puppeteering workshop with renown puppeteer Gary Friedman in Melbourne. I am sure I will learn heaps and might be able to apply a few things to what I am doing here. The workshop is from 19th to 21st July. As this is not too far off, I’ll try not to make any major decisions until I am back in Auckland. I know my head will be brimming with new ideas. A good deal of them will be impractical but who cares.
dedepuppets 