Pompey ReAuthors 2015
Exclamations in the Guildhall
ReAuthoring Workshop: a day where writers explore performance
Strange exclamations in the Guildhall.
A circle of chairs.
Questions scribbled on large paper.
The ReAuthoring workshop was attended by twenty Portsmouth writers. We didn’t learn to write, we didn’t learn to act, but we were inspired with new approaches, discovering fresh insights on what it takes to perform the written word. Thanks to the participants for coming with such open minds and energetic pens. Thanks to Tessa Ditner of Portsmouth Writers Hub, partnered by Portsmouth Cultural Trust & Portsmouth Guildhall & ReAuthoring for making it happen.
Greg Klerkx could not be a more welcoming workshop host. We were soon discovering each others’ hopes and fears in writing and performing. There were intriguing potential noms de plume put forward (Scheherezade, Philippa Blaise). Perhaps the highlight of various collaborations was the miniature genre show, with four writers packed into a tiny stage area, conveying horror, thriller, romance and sci-fi with only gestures and timing; reality TV was admittedly a tough ask.
Dickens has an unexpected admirer
Greg also took us through the seven states of being (from French theatre practitioner Jacques LeCoq). Although we may not need to introduce passion, tragedy or catatonia in every bookshop reading, it’s intriguing how an awareness of different levels, and the contrasts available to a performer, can grip the audience in a moment. I’ve admired writers as diverse as Carole Ann Duffy, AL Kennedy and Matt Haig for their ability to draw an audience in to their readings, and I shall be trying out new ways to do the same when my next book comes out in July 2016.
I also loved the inquiry section, where everyone examines a skeleton description of each story and scribbles questions that spring to mind.
We finished with performances. We’re given 45 minutes and invited to pull apart what we’ve written, throw it up in the air and juggle it with the questions raised during the workshop to make a new piece.
Gareth Toms wowed us with a gentle tale of teenage years. Charlotte Comley created a hellish bake-off within a few sentences, and Margaret Jennings added zesty metaphorical lemons. Matt Wingett mesmerised us with our eyes closed, in time for Justin MacCormack to leave us terrified.
Zella Compton showed us the value of stillness and contrast. Sameen Farouk lured us in by not telling his story. Loree Westron showed that the warmth of your performance outweighs the detail of every word. And those of us who were perhaps less experimental gained confidence and assurance through the generous feedback process.
More! More! Aux armes, citoyens.
The 2012 workshop produced collaborations, publications, personal development, awards, events and friendships. If this glorious day leads to a tenth of the fun of that first, it will have been well worth it.
Beyond the workshop, performers will be invited to audition for Day of the Dead.
DAY OF THE DEAD iii Wed 28 Oct, Square Tower, Broad Street, PO1 2JE
£5 (£4 concession/NWS/Portsmouth Library members)
6pm Doors open. Refreshments, books, music, art. Fancy Dress optional.
7pm Stories and songs art explore the macabre and mysterious.
Tickets: uk.patronbase.com/_NewWritingSouth/Productions/DOTD/Performances
Info: william-sutton.co.uk/dayofthedead
Another chance to read will be at Blackwell’s Found Hour IF BOOKS COULD TALK, 24 Oct, contact tessa@newwritingsouth.com
ReAuthoring Manifesto
Let’s make this clear first of all. We’re not talking about performance poetry here. This is different. Performance poetry is written to be performed, much like a play, and so only has a secondary existence on the page. ReAuthored Performance is work that has a valid existence on the page first of all. It is the reinterpretation of ‘on-the-page’ work for a live context.
We call it ‘ReAuthoring’ because that’s what it involves: a writer remaking their written work for a different audience, one that will largely experience it as a public, audio-visual happening rather than as a private, text-centric event. It’s the same work, but it’s not. Not better, not worse. Just different in a way that’s right for the context and the audience.
