The Little Angel Theatre Applied Puppetry Symposium, 2013

A friend who has been making puppets and puppet shows professionally for over two decades recently told me, in so many words, that “I’ve never been that much into puppets. It’s the ideas beneath them which interest me.” And so it is that last weekend I spent two days with an eclectic bunch of people, from a wide range of countries, with a hugely diverse range of backgrounds, who were all united by one key thing – their use of, and interest in puppets as a tool for change. They call these people socially engaged artists, participatory artists – and they call their chosen field that of applied puppetry. There were PhD students, dramatherapists, primary school teachers and clinical psychologists; arty types, beatniks and itinerant street performers. And although some attendees might have been able to claim a lifelong interest in puppetry as an art form, I have a feeling that most, myself included, would describe themselves as people who ended up stumbling accidentally into using puppets to explore the themes most inextricably linked to human existence.

The first day of the symposium was spent in the semi darkness of the Little Angel Theatre’s auditorium, absorbing insights from a series of speakers who spoke about the different ways that they had used puppetry in socially engaged projects.

Helena Korosec, a former primary school teacher based in Slovenia, described a research project in which she integrated puppetry into teaching and learning processes within primary schools, allowing a puppet ‘character’ to become a core, familiar member of a class. Teachers were equipped with puppetry skills and primed to document any perceived changes in pro-social behaviour, social competence, concentration levels, etc. All test groups showed a marked improvement in all categories, including a decrease in aggressive behaviour.

Riku Laakkonen came from Finland to talk about his use of forum puppetry, a technique fusing Brazilian social activist and theatre practitioner Augusto Boal’s forum theatre with the use of puppets. He discussed how, whilst working with a group of individuals recuperating from mental illness, he used Boal’s theatre techniques to explore and interrogate participants’ autobiographical stories – but found that often individuals were reluctant to perform as themselves, due to the heaviness of the material. In substituting actors with puppets, the group was able to enter into the material beneath a veil of anonymity, and engage with it safely.

Two professers of education from the University of Athens came to talk about using puppetry (mainly shadow puppetry) to merge the sciences with the visual arts within education, in teacher training. Antigoni Paroussi and Vasilis Tselfes, professers in theatre and  science respectively, spoke of the 8 years that they have spent investigating ways of ‘constructing scientific worlds using puppet theatre as a means’ – and showed some electifying performances created by their students, navigating scientific ideas through shadow puppetry and performance arts.

Photo0056Antigoni Paroussi and Vasilis Tselfes

The discussion of two projects based on collaborations between NHS therapists and puppetry specialists demonstrated the ongoing research into puppetry as a powerful therapeutic tool for people with mental health issues. Conclusions were still unclear – one group spoke of how the use of puppetry caused some participants’ mental state to improve, and others’ to decline – they talked about the powerful emotions unleashed by the characters that participants created, and the volatile state this left the group in. They also spoke of their disappointment when, during a discussion about what to do with the puppets made during the sessions, all participants agreed that they should be thrown away or destroyed. Having experienced the huge catharsis of burning my own puppet creation (see the Westcountry Storytelling Festival 2012 blog post!) I feel that if anything, this attitude might have indicated the success of the project – individuals wouldn’t have felt the need to destroy objects had they not come to carry pivotal and potent meanings.

Finally, two inspiring examples of puppetry being used to inject life into communities in far flung places:- firstly, Katie Francis and Sasha Nemeckova reccounted their tour of special needs schools in India, performing Rubbish, an interactive and sensory theatre piece involving puppets and set made from reclaimed materials (and making me wholeheartedly envious of their experience – see their blog here). And Frans Hakkemars and Joanna Oussoren presented a film showing the transformation of Feijenoord, a disadvantaged district of Rotterdam in Holland, through a project which turned a public green space into a regular hub of street performance, theatre and children’s art activities, heavily featuring puppetry. With an array of mobile theatres-on-wheels which would make Terry Gilliam weak at the knees, Hakkemars and Oussoren encouraged interaction and mutual learning within a formerly segregated community.

Kati Francis and Sasha Nemeckova

Day two of the symposium allowed attendees to immerse themselves more deeply in applied puppetry techniques, through workshops facilitated by practitioners using puppetry in varied social contexts. I joined the Puppetry and Performance Skills for Healthcare Settings group, led by Siobhan Clancy of Helium Arts, which delivers arts interventions for children within hospital settings. The group was introduced to the limitations and issues relating to using puppetry in hospital wards, and we were challenged to make puppets using extremely basic, limited materials, and with specific health issues or physical disabilities in mind (see my puppet attempt below). Later we absorbed a range of fascinating techniques and processes through which to begin to use these puppets to facilitate story, creativity and play. Siobhan introduced us to two excellent ‘story starters’ – a game called ‘Unfortunately/Fortunately’, in which characters spontaneously come up with lines of dialogue which begin ‘unfortunately’ or ‘fortunately’, and ‘Hours of the day’, in which characters describe what they would normally be doing at 8 o’clock, 9 o’clock, etc. At this point my puppet madame, in a sultry French accent, announced that at midday on a monday she might be at Heathrow airport waiting for a business flight, because her life is “soooo unpredictable and exciting…” Hmm.

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Siobhan then gave us a range of processes (many of which she has borrowed from Augusto Boal’s range of community theatre techniques)  and asked us to use one of them to develop short performances, in groups. The techniques she gave us were: Mind mapping (a fascinating creative tool but one which I’ve never used to produce a performance or story); Stop and Think (a Boal technique which brings out characters’ inner dialogue within a given situation); Hanover Interrogation (also known as Hot Seating, in which a character is removed from a story/situation and interviewed to discover more about their inner world); analytical rehearsal style (in which a story or performance is created within which all characters are symbols of an idea or concept); Rashoman (a Boal technique based on hugely exaggerated characters); and Long Beach Telegram (whereby a story or performance is created through one-word dialogue only. Our group went on to use mind mapping to generate the themes of memory, time and memory loss, then analytical rehearsal style to perform a short surreal piece about a picnic attended by the guests of time, memory and memory loss!

Thus ended two intense days spent with people from around the world, forming a small, temporary community of individuals intent on figuring out what it is about inanimate objects made to resemble living beings that holds such potency. We might not be so interested in the finer aspects of choreography and dramaturgy when it comes to puppetry, but we remain fascinated by the power of a puppet to help, heal and develop the human psyche.

Hollow Heads and Woven Hands

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Time for a little update from the Applied Puppetry realm……So far, 2013 is proving to be a craft-materials-all-over-the-living-room-floor kind of a year, which of course is a good thing in my book.

This spring has seen some new puppet making projects at the Theatre Royal Plymouth’s TR2 base, starting with a hectic marathon of bear making with 30 Year 2 Ford Primary School children.  Based on the book ‘The Jolly Postman’ by Janet and Allan Ahlberg, the session involved everyone making a bear puppet, and a lovingly decorated and enveloped card to ‘post’ to another bear in the forest. With a bit of creative visualisation our bears entered the forest in order to successfully deliver their cards to the correct bear.

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There was also a sunny day of puppet making with eight enthusiastic participants from Lifeworks in Dartington, which supports young adults with learning difficulties. In a day we transformed the faithful plastic milk carton into a hare puppet complete with exceedingly large ears and whiskers, inspired by the story of the Hare and the Tortoise.

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I’ve also begun a project with Dove Tales, the Theatre Royal’s arts group for asylum seeker and refugee women in Plymouth. By the summer we will hopefully create a large puppet woman decorated with fabrics from the womens’ personal collections (which I look forward to seeing), and it is already clear that this puppet woman will have gorgeous plaited hair and woven hands! (see photo below)

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Meanwhile in the land of 2D arcane picture animation, my paper theatre club at Brixton Primary School has put together three final performances including one inspired by Micheal Morpurgo’s Warhorse and one pondering the various ways that members of One Direction might meet a grisly end.

DSCF8386  And here is a set of punch and judy style glove puppets in the making, which will hopefully come alive on Plymouth’s Barbican seafront this summer to tell the ‘alternative’ story of the Pilgrim Fathers setting sail from Plymouth in 1620, with the help of a seagull narrator bearing an uncanny resemblance to Morgan Freeman.

DSCF8514DSCF8549Besides these random endeavours I’m hoping to carry on exploring the possibilities for puppetry in education and applied settings this year, looking forward to meeting inspiring minds at the Little Angel Theatre’s Applied Puppetry symposium in April, and also forging links with my local new free school, Plymouth School of Creative Arts, to see if puppetry can help the school achieve its aim of encouraging cross-curricular learning through creativity.

Fureai Kippu and the silver-haired ones

On two occasions this week the people of Plymouth might have spotted a woman poorly attemting to park a Vauxhall Corsa, then lugging a large shopping bag of puppets up to a random doorstep. That would have been me, in what appears to be my newly-developing role as a Mobile Puppet Therapist. It’s a role not totally dissimilar to one I fulfilled several years ago as a care worker, except this time around the pay is a lot better and my primary task is to use puppets in order to truly get to know people, and help them to know themselves.

One of these visits was to a particularly lovely residential care home for the elderly specialising in dementia care. On this, my second visit to this extremely comfortable establishment run by friendly and happy staff, I spent an hour circulating through the different living spaces and floors of the building with my rod puppet Lucy, letting her interact with whoever she came across. As previously, the hour slipped by quickly. Lucy simply wandered around in her slightly dizzy way (having developed a bit of a ‘friendly local TV news presenter’ facade of late) approaching people to say hello and then see if a nice little round of smalltalk might emerge. No more of a plan than that was needed. Some residents stared at Lucy without speaking. Some managed to tell her their name. A few managed to talk of their lives, families and pasts, describing beautiful gardens, seaside walks and memorable smiles. But generally Lucy encouraged the simplest of fleeting interactions during which she watched distant gazes turn into bright, focused concentration and neutral expressions open into smiles which implied comfort, recognition and connection. As Lucy said her goodbyes one enthused gentleman stooped to flamboyantly press her wooden hand to his lips for several fierce seconds, whilst another lady repeatedly cried “I love you! I love you! I’m so glad I met you today.” Teary eyes were later admitted to by nearby care professionals.

Taking responsibility for the proper care and honouring of our eldest co-inhabitants seems to be another important item on the to do list of our culture. At a recent talk by green consultant and Totnes REconomy project founder Jay Tompt I learnt about Japan’s Fureai Kippu scheme, through which younger generations are encouraged to volunteer their time to help the elderly, in exchange for credits which they can use to access services when they themselves become sick, elderly or in need. Apparently the elderly are found to prefer those willing to be paid in Fureai Kippu than standard Yen, due to the closer connection forged through the exchange. Lucy and I certainly feel all the richer from the time we spent with these people.

360 degree Storytelling

I am finally getting stuck into the project that has been rattling around my brain for some time now, which began with the simple desire to make an interactive picture storytelling scroll.
In case you are not familiar with the term, picture storytelling scrolls have been used to tell stories through pictures for several thousand years, with the first recorded scroll being traced back to 6th Century India. These scrolls, around which storytelling traditions have developed in many parts of Asia and the Middle East (and which possibly evolved into European visual storytelling traditions such as the Italian “Cantastoria”), tell a story by mapping it out in a series of visual images, or one huge image containing a complex narrative journey which can be guided by the picture storyteller during their performance. (Below: segment of Indian storytelling scroll)

Anyhow, I’ve been interested in ways to make this guided journey through pictures an interactive one. How can the listeners, the audience, the onlookers, the absorbers, fully enter into the story and let their own imaginations influence and deepen the journey? How can people become sucked into a story via their emotional and mental involvement, and also their physical, tactile and spatial involvement?

The project in hand is to create a scroll version of Joan Aitken’s The Last Slice of Rainbow, a very magical story which I was very attached to as a child. With a large, rose-print covered eiderdown ready to start work on, I began designing layouts and trying to figure out how the narrative would travel around the square panel of fabric. And how would it be held up? Traditionally, these scrolls were wrapped around tall, heavy poles and unrolled as the story (literally) unfolded.

Then a new idea occurred – to create a storytelling scroll that would be laid on the floor, with onlookers/participants seated around the perimeter, and the story being told around the panel like the moving hand of a clock. A design has been settled on, which has turned the story into a complete, 360 degree landscape:

Now though, I am wondering how it would be for a single listener/participant to be seated in the centre of the scroll, phsically embedded within it, with the storyteller guiding the journey from the outside, encouraging the participant to see, touch and move their way through the story.

The Story Ship

I am pleased to announce the launch of The Story Ship, my workshop package for Devon primary schools, harnessing the magic of visual storytelling arts to explore KS1 and KS2 curriculum areas and themes, and to develop literacy, creativity and confidence.

The Story Ship is a unique Primary School workshop package aimed at KS1 and KS2 children. It offers rich opportunities for the development of literacy – particularly speaking and listening- skills in a deeply contextualised way through a combination of storytelling, puppetry and visual arts.

The Story Ship injects a classroom project, topic or school event with imagination and creativity by harnessing the powers of a range of visual art forms including puppetry, paper theatre and traditional picture storytelling techniques. Through animation and performance children can watch their creations come to life in magical and unusual ways, allowing even reluctant learners to become motivated and proud of their achievements.

Each Story Ship workshop is unique, designed and developed according to the interests and needs of the school group.  Skills emphasised include:- visual arts and crafts (puppet-making, paper crafts, textile crafts, sculpture, drawing, story-boarding); literacy (mind-mapping, story-mapping, Pie Corbett’s Talk for Writing, script-writing); drama (role play, improvisation, puppet manipulation, performance skills) as well as theatre production (music, lighting, directing etc.) A typical one day workshop will start with an introductory visual storytelling show, leading into crafting and making activities, and finishing with drama, animation, rehearsal and a final performance showcase.

Story Ship workshops enable children to explore themes, topics and ideas in multidisciplinary ways, leading to higher levels of productivity, learning and enjoyment! These workshops can be particularly effective in engaging children with learning and behavioural difficulties, and enable all children to gain confidence as artists, storytellers, performers and collaborators.

The rate is £150 for a full day workshop, plus materials and travel expenses. Rates for shorter or longer workshops can be negotiated.

Please contact Hrubyjoanna@gmail.com to arrange an informal meeting and discussion at your school.

Picture Storytelling and movements in Data Visualisation

Monday morning is too early for such assaults of inspiration. Over muesli, I discover this fascinating article which speaks of the area which is constantly in my thoughts – the link between storytelling, language, information – and pictures. The mysterious relationship which has led me to travel across the Atlantic twice to work with artists who communicate through unusual visual storytelling forms – firstly, to the large scale visual theatre company Bread and Puppet Theatre and then, to the toy theatre revivalists, Great Small Works.

But what is this fascination really about, because it goes far deeper than a desire to make a type of theatre. I, for one, have never seen myself as a theatre maker, and find that world fairly alien. I am a person who is interested in language and communication, and how to most effectively tap into the realms of imagination and fantasy within the human psyche in order to enliven, inspire, and perhaps achieve all manner of other things of which we presently know nothing but which we may one day in the future.

So why this fascination with visual storytelling? Perhaps I could just quote data-visualiser Alex Lundry at this point:
Vision is our most dominant sense. It takes up 50% of our brain’s resources. And despite the visual nature of text, pictures are actually a superior and more efficient delivery mechanism for information. In neurology, this is called the ‘pictorial superiority effect’ [...] If I present information to you orally, you’ll probably only remember about 10% 72 hours after exposure, but if I add a picture, recall soars to 65%. So we are hard-wired to find visualization more compelling than a spreadsheet, a speech of a memo.

Rather than being interested in theatre, I am interested in information and ideas – how were these things transmitted between people a very long time ago, how are they transmitted now, how is this changing, and what does this change mean. Returning to the aforementioned article on the excellent website Brain Pickings, the author discusses data visualisation – the act of translating data into pictures, graphs, diagrams, maps – a communication method which is becoming increasingly popular not only in the fields of commerce and business but also those of literature, the arts and even ecology. Take, for example, London artist Stephanie Posavec’s project Writing Without Wordsin which she translates works of literature into visual form through a range of pattern-creating processes. Below, for example, is a visual representation of part one of Jack Kerouac’s On The Road, a chart-like formation mirroring the organisation of chapters, paragraphs, sentences and words, with the colours representing eleven overriding themes of the book including ‘travel’, ‘work and survival’ and ‘sketches of regional life’. ImageIt seems that we are increasingly recognising the power of the picture. Not just in art galleries, not on walls, not in fairytale illustrations, but at the heart of the way that we communicate information to each other.

But it’s when you look back through history that it gets really interesting. In the 13th Century, for example, the following figure was painted representing the main characters and institutions of the Christian salvation history, via the common symbology of the tree:

ImageThe Tree of the Two Advents, Joaquim of Fiore, 1202

And a delving into medieval alchemical etchings reveals a world of arcane theology beliefs represented through mysterious visual maps:

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Are we perhaps coming full circle? Are we returning to a visual age? Anyone who uses Facebook will see clearly that the predominant method of idea communication, of late, is through photographs (often with crass, inaccurate and hugely biased verbal captions, it should be added). Pictures have power. If, according to Alex Lundry, information absorbtion increases by 55% when accompanied by a visual component, the implication is that our education system could be radically overhauled, shifting from a verbally-based to a pictorally-based one. The greater implication is that the written word might one day renounce its throne in our culture, stepping down to share responsibilities with the languge of the visual. In the meantime, I’ll head down to the studio and carry on making strange little picture storytelling contraptions involving cranks and recycled duvet covers and coffee stirrers.

The Theatre of Dreams, and Dahlicious Day

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Over the past week I have been making the Theatre of Dreams, a portable, easily constructed and dismantled travelling toy theatre. And on Friday I took it on its maiden voyage, to Brixton Primary School for an all-day workshop exploring the characters in Roald Dahl’s children’s books. With some delightfully small classes (including very authentic Oompa-Loompas with orange faces and green hair, and even a human ‘golden ticket’) I introduced the style of toy theatre performance and each child made their own toy theatre Dahl character, with me frantically cutting and twisting lengths of wire in readiness for completed puppets.

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The children then grouped up and devised their own short sketches, based on unlikely encounters between characters of Dahl’s various stories, such as Willy Wonka, Fantastic Mr Fox and Mrs Twit. Once everyone had grasped the basic principles of effective toy theatre performance (move characters slowly and minimally, keep them facing the audience, etc) some clever and amusing little plays developed, some featuring music and even rolling credits.

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This promises to be the start of a series of forays into storytelling within schools, via the visual arts. I’m going to return to the drawing board and figure out ways of making better, even more beautifully-crafted paper puppets and scenery with children, and delving further into their story imaginations to start exploring themes in more depth.