Writing a script without too much thought forced upon the text, with only a handful of given stage directions to guide the process, is a terrifying prospect. Jo Bonney has stated that “all solo performers are storytellers” (Bonney 2000, p. xiii), and this is something which rings true throughout a lot of solo pieces (although as always there will be exceptions to the ‘rule’).
Being told to ‘write’ on the spot, with no preparation or pre-thought to the text/through-line of the piece was a difficult task. When on stage, “the artist is recognised to be something other than simply ‘behaving’, his or her movements are addressed as signs” (Counsell 1996, p. 11), therefore everything created for and around said artist is crucial to convey meaning, understanding and to move on the story-line/further the line of the performance.
When writing the script seen here, I had no agenda or solid thought process. To say I was automatic writing would be a lie, however I did write down the first ‘thing’ that popped into my head and this was the opening line of the ominous Voice which is heard off-stage. Although this first seemed completely out of place and with no hope of direction, the opening spoken text of a well known lyric was to set up an interesting contrasting image with the lighting and figures which were to follow. However, once the figure appeared on stage, I had no way of furthering this piece. I think that was partly because I had no personal connection to the performance as it was just a thought, rather than a idea with a structure.
When asked to develop a piece further, I scrapped this attached idea completely and decided to take it in a direction which I could possibly use in my final performance. This time focussing on atmospheres and emotions I wanted to create within the space and how this atmosphere can be controlled and manipulated by clashes, changes and additions of light, music and/or speech.
When performing, the gaze of the audience is usually on the audience. However the solo performer Amy Taubin’s work acts as “subverting the performer’s role of being seen” (Carroll 1979, p. 53), often turning the audience to the audienced/watched. Although this is not always the case, as she sometimes forces the audience in to a position where they have to choose between an auditory or physical performance. When performing “if the self is a position, then it is elusive. That is, it shifts when looked at from different angles” (Carroll 1979, p. 58), and it is this belief that Taubin takes advantage of during her performances. Now in the early 21st Century, solo performance has turned over almost every stone available which a performance lies under, and nudity is no exception. Colin Consell states that “women artists have in recent decades consciously manipulated and redrawn images of the exposed female form” (1996, p. 222) and Taubin is no exception to this manipulation. Although not exposed in a crude or overtly threatening manner, she engages a “frustrating potential voyeurism” (Carroll 1979, p. 52) while consciously contrasting this tense atmosphere by casually walking on stage and stripping naked openly in front of all the audience members.
As a female solo performer however, my prime objective is not to expose, re-evaluate or challenge notions of the female form. Since being introduced to further techniques of lighting, sound, contradictions, clashes and events, the power to create a moment, tell a story or manipulate a scene has heightened my awareness of all aspects of solo performance; how a single light can change the dynamic and feeling of an event and how contradictions of images can create something beautiful.
Works cited
Bonney, Jo (2000) ‘Preface’ in Extreme Exposure: an anthology of solo performance texts from the twentieth century, ed. Jo Bonney, New York: New York Theatre Communications Group 2000.
Carroll, Noel (1979) ‘Amy Taubin: The Solo Self” in The Drama Review, XXIII (1), March: 21-58.
Counsell, Colin (1996[2005]) Signs of Performance: an introduction to twentieth-century theatre, New York: Routledge.