Crossing Borders: 11th October with Guy Claxton

It might seem unusual that Crossing Border’s next guest, cognitive scientist and experimental psychologist Guy Claxton, seems so at home amongst dancers and artists alike. He appears as part of the first in a series of talks resulting from PAL’s Movement and Meaning Labs which’s aim, in line with that of the previous Crossing Borders talks, is to ponder the questions and artistic potential that surrounds cross-collaboration. However the gap between the ‘logical’ science discipline and the ‘creative’ dance world for me can sometimes seem more like a gigantic chasm rather than a hair-line border with osmotic potential. Claxton believes otherwise, and carries on to completely fuse the two in a mere hour and a half, leaving everyone in the room wide-eyed.
The cavernous space of the Siobhan Davies roof studio suddenly feels more intimate as Claxton begins to speak, his voice confident and inviting. The room bristles with excitement as Gill Clarke warmly introduces this acclaimed writer and author of the innovative success Hare Brain, Tortoise Mind. Claxton’s work to date has centred on his enthusiasm for teaching, which has been heavily influenced by his own Buddhist practice.  He speaks about his interest in the link between mind and body, and the intriguing concept of unconscious autonomous intelligence.
Claxton starts to explain the interesting ways your mind seems to work things out for itself while you are completely unaware. Giving meditation as an example, an issue that I’m sure a lot of people come across, he explained that good ideas; those which may not arrive fully if you try and will them to, seemed to come along by themselves whilst he was trying to concentrate on his breathing during meditation.
This is something I certainly came across whilst writing my undergraduate dissertation. I surprised myself by how little time it took for me to grind to a writing halt. For about an hour and half I would write continuously, with little attention paid to editing my work, however after this time it felt as if my brain had taken on a greyish hue, my eyes turned into rectangles and my face felt slanty. At this point I had to leave my seat; sometimes mid sentence – my words would just flap away like trapped birds willing to escape, and I would not return for at least two hours. I’d go for a walk, wash up, do laundry – anything physical. And the interesting thing was that during these times I had my most inspired ideas, where they came from I can’t say, but my mind seemed to store them all up ready for another 1 ½ hour full-pelt laptop marathon. Slow progress one might think, but my productivity during my writing times was increased tenfold.
It is interesting then, as Claxton brings up, how the education system in this county has developed. Children are encouraged to sit at a desk and work for hours at a time, and are taught that comprehension comes before competence. When, in fact learning through doing, through physicality, encourages wider brain usage and capacity. Claxton remarkably explains that the physical and verbal attributes of the brain actually derive from the same root. With this in mind, he asks the audience of mainly dance artists whether speech during movement seems integrated. Clarke notes that they do feel separate, and part of two different mindsets. I can partly agree with this, I find speaking and moving incredibly difficult and somehow incongruous. However using language through writing comes naturally, and as writing can be considered a physical act, I find words come so much easier through this method than if I was to speak and move. I think of myself as fairly articulate with language, but when it comes to verbally expressing myself, I struggle and often sound as if my IQ has dropped by about 50%. So it’s the physical act of writing, the movement, which encourages and develops my cognition. It’s is also the fact that writing allows you to think before you write, and also move around before you commit to paper. It could be said then that language is a tool of expression, and the verbalisation of such requires a different process all together. Claxton also mentions that movement in children is often a lot more mature than their words, and therefore if deprived of movement, children find it harder to understand. Why then is the education system forcing children to understand the concepts of things before they are given a chance to try it out? This also true in my experience as a musician, if playing something by memory, it’s a complete waste of time to try and remember the notes or picture the stave, or even hear the music. It’s the muscle memory I fall back on, the way my body moves around the instrument; which only comes if you try and disregard everything else.
Claxton mentions that the common perception is that we think in consciousness, not so, according to Claxton, in fact we think into consciousness. By slowing down we notice the act of conscious thoughts arising; in the form of ‘glimmerings’ and ‘inklings’. From a phenomenological point of view, we often disregard the act of perception as automatic and immediate, when in fact perception is active and can be directed. It becomes a form of ‘doing’. It is a building up of imagined images that derive from pre-judgements due to a lack of mental capacity and an inability to process countless possibilities and outcomes. This is what some phenomenologists call a frontality of perception. We understand something through our previous engagement with it; it is integrated into our perception which therefore feeds our knowledge.
So, if perception is a form of doing, and movement equals giving your brain some space and time to think on its own, and if this movement equals better, more informed ideas, then why do we force children to focus 100% of the time? I for one am glad to have figured this out early on, before I stick myself behind a desk for the rest of my life.
Right – I need a washing up break.

Say Something Live music night - Bear Cavalry, Random Impulse, CODA, Rizzle Kicks

Say Something, a live music night and inspirational brain child of GU2 radio has been ambling alongside Surrey’s sub-standard union events since December 2009, slowly collecting fresh-faced and eager music fans along the way like a slow-motion snowball, frosty and determined. And, a lot like a snowball, mildly unnoticed by the majority until it gets MASSIVE and then causes an avalanche. More on this shrouded metaphor later. This year it lay deep in the merciless pit of fresher’s season cheese – sorry – fun, and provided a glimmer of hope for those seeking more alternative forms of entertainment.

The evening of the 6^th October was loudly shaken out of its Thursday night sleepyness by none other than Bear Cavalry. Originating from Gosport, kooky four piece Bear Cavalry give a new definition to the word fusion. A group of musicians, all sensationally talented and with the most intricately mature sound I’ve heard from a ‘first-band-on-the-bill’ for a long time. Foals inspired licks combine with calypso rhythms and a bit of thrashing metal added in there for good measure. A valiant blend of Nordic folk harmonies, Vampire Weekend inspired cross-rhythms, and all tied up with the string of indie wide-boy cheekiness. A shame to have had such an intimate audience, they truly outstood their slot in the bill.

Next up is rapper and song writer Random Impulse. Nothing really random or impulsive about this dude but his tunes are catchy enough. An NERD inspired mixture of slamming guitar chords and bouncy hip hop lyrics with a grimey undercarriage.  A little too lyrically repetitive in his choruses compared to his quick witted verse spits, but he seems to get the crowd nodding. Openly inspired by the White Stripes (I think he mentions it in one of his songs) with a twist of WTF, Random Impulse could afford to test his genre fusing impulses a little more. A nod-worthy act for the second slot, which is always a hard one to fill.

The infallible CODA were next to grace the stage, the band who were tipped to headline the last Say Something before they unfortunately bowed out. With their soaring live trombone melody backed by pumping dub step, it’s almost impossible not to dance. Currently London based, this five-piece have been mastering the synthesis of dub step with live musicians since 2009. Their sets are a trippy blend of chilled out reggae and jazz rhythms, highlighted by live electric guitar and the most rock star trombone player I have ever seen. Beach-side paradise imagery gives way to ecstatic dancing as the bass kicks in and we are thrown a gushing bucket of a remixed The Prodigy’s Firestarter, finishing the set with tremendous energy and, yes, a lot of sweatiness.

By this point in the evening the dance floor had become increasingly difficult to move on, students piling in left right and centre to catch a glimpse of the infamous Rizzle Kicks. What did I say about an avalanche?!... The Rizzles kicked their way into their set, bounding on stage in Fresh Prince inspired attire to great applause. Through the sea of blackberries and i-phones that were immediately thrust into the air,  the most I saw was a few fuzzy barnets bobbing up and down and a heavily dreadlocked guitarist who seemed to be enjoying himself. Now, I don’t want to sound like a grump, but where were all these people when Bear Cavalry got down with their trumpet? The Rizzle Kick’s songs are full to the brim with identifiable lyrics and mainstream catchiness; and it’s clear by the audience’s reaction that these two baby-faced rappers are onto a winner. Slightly disappointing that they felt the need to rap over a recorded version of Jessie J’s Price Tag – sorry- who are we coming to see here?! – a mere way of padding out their limited set by getting the audience excited by other people’s songs. Still, the audience seemed to enjoy it so that’s the main thing right? But for this reviewer, it is very rare occurrence when the first act on the bill totally trump(et?) the 80’s inspired shorts off the headliners.

Crossing Borders: 4th October with Ben Duke

Ben Duke sits at ease on a sofa below the majestic ribboned ceiling of the Siobhan Davies studios. His appearance here comes as part of Independent Dance’s annual series of talks called Crossing Borders. The series aims to challenge and question the ideas behind inter-disciplinary work, and explores the ways in which different art forms can be enriched and informed through cross-collaboration. In collaboration itself with The Place’s postgraduate course Edge, and this time also with PAL (performing arts labs), Crossing Borders brings to its platform Lost Dog co-founder and choreographer, Ben Duke. From a company renowned for its inter-disciplinary use of movement, theatre, text and live music, Duke’s seems like a perfect brain to pick to kick-start this series of talks.

Sat in front of an impressively sized audience for the first in a series, Duke begins to contemplate how the concept of crossing the disciplinary border is addressed in his own choreographic work. He talks about beginning with a story and characters, the way one would assume a theatre director would begin. However he goes on to describe how his approach to ‘story’ is not necessarily in the linear narrative sense. He speaks of expanding a single moment, and exploring the millions of possible moments that could take place within a mere couple of seconds. Almost a theatrical approach to chaos theory, Duke explains how within his work these minute moments are stretched, sometimes through the use of dance or other abstract forms, to create a sense of parallel realities. As an agent of illusion, the physicality of movement seems to emerge, dream-like and embedded through an immersive narrative as a way of generating believable frames for the dance.

To create engaging pieces of work that successfully combine dance, text, music and narrative without ending up with a spangly tits and teeth musical theatre piece requires some serious thought. It begs the age-old question, mulled over by audiences and choreographers alike, how do you make it so that the characters within a piece believably choose to dance? Duke asks ‘how do you bridge the gap between reality and an abstract reality?’.  He provides us with an undesirable example of musical theatre and its harsh changes between spoken text and show-tunes (group-shudder).

The answer to this seems to hover around a certain element of subtlety. He describes a delicate balance between providing the framing devices of narrative and character for the dance in order to tie the piece together concisely and not leave the audience utterly perplexed, yet also leaving enough space for ambiguity and imagination. The level at which an audience’s emotions are directed can be controlled through the subtle marriage of text and movement. A choreographer must take control of an audience’s emotional journey through the piece if they have any hope of communicating some tangibly emotive meaning or leaving behind a form of reactive residue. Duke describes his use of layering as a way of inducing subtlety and combating the clunkyness that could arise if movement and text are put together haphazardly. By allowing an expansion of the audience’s imagination through carefully constructing this blurred connection between theatre and dance, the audience member then has the agency to interpret what they see differently. They can relate it to their own lives to make it more emotionally relevant, rather than some distant story about some removed characters that may or may not bare any social or cultural relationship to the viewer. Duke also adds here that in the building and layering of character; when developed in conjunction with text and theatre and most importantly improvisation, a feeling of immediacy can be conjured. Through the use of improvisation, characterisation and physicality can be kept alive, leading the audience to believe (but at the same time not really believe) that this series of events unfolding on stage is happening for the first time. A sensitive balance between letting the audience know that this is a performance (yes, very Brechtian) and tempting them to become emotionally involved within the story creates this two-way pull that seems to fuse the use of dance and theatre. Almost like saying – yes, audience, I know this is completely unbelievable because two people wouldn’t ever go from a very verbal confrontation to a twisty-turny-lovely-dancey phrase in normal life but, oh, don’t we wish we could... wouldn’t it make so much more sense...

I Wish...

As most normal twenty-something arts graduates, my response to ‘I wish’ would be to write something along the well-trodden lines of recent government funding cuts to the much needed and highly overlooked arts sector. After graduating from a dance degree, you don’t just have to answer to those people with the cynical comments,  disparaging looks and turned up noses at your seemingly worthless arts degree, you also have to face up to the harshly naked fact that these people may in fact be right. It’s a slow and horrible dawning that has been hanging, putrid in the air over your head through your last few months at University, only to reveal itself now in its brutal and horribly real form. A realisation that the world of candy canes, gingerbread men and arts jobs that flourish from trees is simply the result of rose-tinted glasses. The problem is that most people know this, but are too passionate (some might say naive) to give up on their art completely and find a ‘proper’ job. But, all this has been said before. ‘I wish for a job’ isn’t going to cut it. I wish doesn’t mean I get. So, I’m going to flip the scripts. There’s a certain art in being able to see a little silver lining in that terrible head-cloud, and I think I may have mastered it. Constantly wishing after anything can have disastrous affect s; it can encompass your every being, take over your mind and soul, it is all expansive and incredibly exhausting. This is why I have stopped wishing. I’ve come to the realisation that all this struggle, debt, pure and unashamed poverty; questioning every life decision I have ever made and failing to establish the core to my very existence, is actually a good thing. If, the moment I graduated, the perfect job grew extremities and rushed to meet me with a warm embrace at my front door, I wouldn’t appreciate it half as much. Feeling like I’m struggling, head strong into gale force wind, wayward leaves and shrubbery getting stuck in my hair, bits of people’s letters (probably hefty bank statements and interview invites) flitter mockingly at my face, I can safely say when I get that job I will be pleased to have worked for it. I will never compromise my art. And having experienced stark career poverty, I’m all the more determined.

The London Rioters - In need of a creative outlet?

Unless you have been living under a rock for the last 7 days, (and let’s admit, who can blame you?) you would have been bombarded continuously by the countless news stories related to the London Riots.
24 hour TV coverage, specialist radio programmes, You-Tube videos, Facebook and Twitter posts; a media frenzy that has tornadoed through our lives, ripping across the seams of society and leaving behind a littering of moral panic.
Looting the general public of their ability to make informed decisions and tarnishing the young population with the same photo-shopping, cutting and pasting sensationalist brush. 
The digital age has brought with it access to a million points of view, all at once, and all trying to nudge us into thinking a particular way. The news has always been biased, but as a growing commercial enterprise, there’s no escape. The lines between reality and a regurgitated represented reality are being blurred, so much so that the media has an ever increasing and frighteningly high stake in public opinion.
Logging on to Facebook last Monday, about 98% of people’s statuses were riot-based, and interestingly enough there seemed to be divide between those that lived within the areas that were hit by the riots, and those that lived in, say, the Surrey or Oxfordshire countryside.
The majority of London dweller’s statuses attempted to attack the problems behind the rioting, whereas those who were not directly hit by the riots were attacking the yobs, criminals and looters. The interesting contrast here is the level of mediation that each resident has been subjected to, with questionable originality regarding the construction of these ‘opinions’.
Perhaps what we need, to combat this encroaching deluge of media influenced opinion, is to develop alternative ways of thinking.  Perhaps we can take influence from the artistic and creative thinkers of this world, who often indulge in critical analysis. If the public were to begin to recognise their own creative validity within the cultural sphere, perhaps public opinion would become more public-led, rather than led by those at the top of the media chain (Rupert Murdoch, anyone?).
So what if creative thinking could be applied as a solution to other aspects of the riots?
The arts have been one of the industries worst hit by the government cuts. Jobs in the arts are becoming increasingly rare, budgets for the arts and humanities departments in higher education institutions are being slashed, and arts companies are facing great holes in their staffing structure, which they struggle to fill through lack of funds.
The arts are seen as a luxury, a cultural-add on for countries that can afford it. But what the government did not consider is how the arts actually shape society. Art is not an extra, art is essential for a country’s social infrastructure, especially one in ‘financial meltdown’. Particularly for young people, art provides a way of expression that cannot be sought through any other means.
A favourite quote by John Martin states, ‘Life depends on science but the arts make it worth living’.
The riots came after 8 out of 13 youth clubs were shut down by Haringey Council. So how can the government think that the arts are an expendable resource?
Ok, so a lot of the rioters did just want new tellys and trainers. But what happens if we replace this obsession with material goods - this all-encompassing consumerist society, with a passion for something else?  
A passion for making music for example, or dance, or art. Creative thinking is not something that can just be switched on and off, it is a matter of displacement. Art is something that can bring people and communities together, it is something that encourages a new and different way of thinking, a way that is desperately needed, more so now than ever.

Album Review: Ritual Union by Little Dragon

Ritual Union, released in July 2011, is the third album by Swedish electronic band Little Dragon. Allegedly named after lead singer Yukimi Nagano’s fiery tantrums in the recording studio, Little Dragon have been making music since 1996. Their two previous albums, self titled Little Dragon released in 2007 and 2009’s Machine Dreams make excellent predecessors of Ritual Union, a seemingly more simplistic and paired down album compared to their previous sweeping electronic backdrops and epic instrumentation.
Ritual Union seems to take more of a minimalist approach, with the newly released title track relying heavily on an electronic baseline that’s tapped neatly out on the keyboard. This ostinato is nevertheless successfully catchy, and fits well underneath Nagano’s sensually breathy but sweetly simple vocals. 
The album is produced excellently; balancing the percussive element well as it scuttles around underneath the layers of audio, minutely whispering its presence and getting under your skin. However this means that the music’s quality and intricate nature can only really be appreciated through higher calibre headphones. Through normal-average-Joe-poor-student speakers it’s a shame to say that Ritual Union is enjoyed best as background music. Very good background music, but still background music. Not lift music though, that would just be insulting. 
The hint of Japanese influences seem to have disappeared from this album, a trait that softly lingered throughout Machine Dreams, and has been replaced by more of an 80’s vibe. Particularly in the fourth track Shuffle a Dream; slightly La Rue, slightly Blondie, and slightly suitable for jumping around to in spandex and an awful perm.
The same can be said for the 8th track Nightlight, however with a more affluent array of rhythmic patterning, Nagano’s delicate and airy vocals wind themselves cleverly around the surrounding electronic labyrinth.
It is sad to say that Little Dragon’s reductive approach to this album seems to have resulted in them perhaps taking out a little too much. From listening to it I find myself wanting after a few more expansive vocals as seen in A New from Machine Dreams, where Nagano’s beautifully and extremely capable voice echoes ethereally across a thicker and richer tapestry of sound. Everything seems a bit clipped, a bit quiet, as if Little Dragon’s new studio has been built next to a library or a maternity ward.
If you are new to Little Dragon I highly recommend a visit to their earlier albums before delving into Ritual Union. If you fancy a mix of La Rue, James Blake, with a little Cinematic Orchestra thrown in there, give Little Dragon a go. No doubt they will continue to evolve in their music making and challenge their listeners further – a respectable trait in today’s auto-tuned, consumerist music scene.

Soundwave Festival Croatia 2011

Picture this: you’re strolling along an idyllic seafront, calm waves gently lap against your ankles in pure transparency as the sticky Mediterranean climate breathes a contrastingly fresh breeze across your face. Brightly coloured square buildings line the streets with rows of orange brick roofs, these buildings garishly inhabited by shops, restaurants and apartments for tourists. The sun is setting across the sea, crimson and lilac clouds hang streaked by the brightest yellow. The tangerine sun melts slowly down towards the sea where it is distinguished, leaving behind the most beautiful sky man has ever seen. And through this the sound of heavy dub lingers in the distance, summoning you across the bay to the Soundwave festival site.

Soundwave Croatia took place between the 22^nd and 24^th July 2011 on the beautiful Petrcane peninsula in Zadar, Croatia. Hailed by London Lite as ‘basically The Big Chill on sea’ (www.soundwavecroatia.com), Soundwave is the brainchild of perfection by events companies Soundcrash and New Bohemia. Recognised for their effortlessly alternative and downright brilliant line-ups and DJs, the two combine to bring Croatia an assortment of the best dub step, jazz, electronic and reggae, with sets often uniting all of the above genres.

A far cry from the mud slopes of Glastonbury, the festival site itself is a thing to behold. With its intimate capacity, one stage is a mere hop skip and a boogy away from the other. By day, the well used festival site known as The Garden is a peaceful abyss. Set on a wooded peninsula surrounded by the warm Adriatic sea, festival goers can lounge in their tanned bikini bodies, watch the waves and the world go by, supping on sweet Somersby’s cider. There is beach volleyball for the more active visitor, or the sought after boat parties that sail along the coast, playing host to some of the festival’s DJs. Sound checking echoes across the beach as the acts warm up for a 1pm start, allowing the hungover to gracefully recover before partying again.

By night, the site takes on a more magical appearance. The trees are illuminated in blue, green, red and purple whilst their trunks are wound with sparkling fairy lights. On entering the site, dancing is suddenly a pre-requisite, and you feel the need to throw some shapes whilst travelling to your desired destination. This often results in some interesting new dance techniques. To your right is a collection of sea front bars; a tropical themed tiki bar, a wine bar for an optimum view of the sunset and the beach bar stage – a purpose built dance floor which suspends over the beach. Here you can bob around to some hard core dub step, club style lights flashing across the sea for braver ravers to try their moves on the slippery stone beach.

Towards the far end of the festival site is a catering area with simplistic offerings of burgers, chicken and chips. Options of wraps and salads are also available however turned out to be the messiest thing ever to be consumed during a live set. Attempting to enjoy a band while your food disintegrates in your hand is not the most enjoyable experience. However the surrounding village of Petrcane offers a vast range of very cheap Italian (!) food for most tastes and requirements.  

The main attraction of the site is of course the main stage. During the opening night this stage saw the delights of Roots Manuva and Bonobo, personal favourites on Friday and Sunday evening. Bonobo’s chilled soundscape wrapped itself around the space like a cloud of purple smoke, enveloping the audience and keeping them thoroughly capsulated. Live flute and clarinet floated loftily over murky bass notes and catchy rhythms, enhancing the richness of the audio experience. Roots Manuva’s legend status was evident as he got the whole garden singing along to his monumentous deep and poetic lyrics.

Earlier on the Friday the stage was graced by Brighton based singer/songwriter Andreya Triana. Her voice like honey, melting effortlessly across her exquisite vocal range. Andreya ran through favourites A Town Called Obselete and Lost Where I Belong, a song soulfully describing the hardships of a struggling singer, from her recent album of the same name. She then rounded off the performance with an acapella version of Sweet Dreams by Eurythmics. Using her stunning voice in instrumental harmony to great applause, Andreya grinned along with the audience, both parties feeling as if they’ve experienced something uniquely special.

Saturday was kicked off by the limitless Riot Jazz, a jazz band fully equipped with Sousamaphone, a brass instrument that winds around the players body as if he is attempting to play an attacking snake.  Riot jazz belted out covers of The Human League and Marvin Gaye, getting every member of the audience crazy dancing. As the expert MC shouted over thunderous brass rhythms, the audience responded with further hip twisting, head nodding and foot tapping. 

The ethereal Little Dragon topped the bill on Saturday night, an utterly spine tingling set. Front woman Yukimi Nagano‘s sugary tones delicately decorate the captivating electronic backdrop as she commands the stage, energetically crashing out rhythms with her hands on the gigantuous lit up drum kit. The violet and fuchsia lighting, echoing melodies and glittering percussion turns this performance into something otherworldly. Perfect accompaniment to a perfect setting. If you like good music in beautiful surroundings, I would thoroughly suggest a trip to Soundwave in summer 2012. It won’t disappoint.