I don’t think I have had so much fun since 1971 when i went to evening classes in ‘Public Speaking”. Back then our tutor encouraged to adopt a persona when debating. My friend was “Owens, Chair of the Balls Pond Road Boys’ Society” and I was “Lady Jane, feminist”. I do wish that I could recall the others but it was a long time ago! Today I was “Grandma Betty, aged one hundred and unsure exactly how many grandchildren I had because my son was like Boris Johnson, having no idea how many kids he had fathered.

. . .”oh sh*t! Help! Where am i?” oops! I had nodded off while writing this and jerked back awake in a total panic. Readers with knowledge of Narcolepsy no doubt will confirm that this terrifying feeling that sometimes occurs on waking from a nap is fleeting – thank goodness. Perhaps I should have had a proper rest on my return from the workshop to allow myself time to unwind and reflect on the morning.

Our session today was led by Ali James, a Professional Improvisor. Before Ali began her session, Rafal showed us pictures of his previous work and outlined his ideas for his March presentation – the one we are working towards. There will be moving platforms and static exhibits . . . Cycles and repetitions based on renewal and rebirth. Words are not adequate to explain. That is the purpose of our workshops. To generate a piece of performance art that will be viewed both from the side and from a birds-eye view.

Ali began by taking is through a series of improv activities encouraging us to focus on “connections”, with a heightened awareness of everyone around us. Our first task was to line ourselves up by eye colour, from lightest to darkest BUT with no words. Help! I know my eyes are sort-of green but is that light or dark? And peering into other faces, I was not always sure whether their eyes were light or dark either. Then I realised it did not really matter. The objective was to observe and to really interact with one another. “Now move into groups with the same star sign – again with no words.” That was easy. With our fingers pointing like horns, three of us who were Taurus managed to separate ourselves from Capricorn – who of course also has horns, but curly ones, so their hands were waving.Standing in a circle we then played a game where first one person was moving – then three – then five. As we silently changed places with others in the circle. movement flowed, first backwards and forwards across the circle then in more circular motions.
Back on our seats we played a word game. Player A called out a word, player B called out an associated word than Player C called out a second associated word.
beard / moustache/ face
swan/ cygnet/ river . . .
Next Ali complicated the game by asking Player C to become Player A, starting a fresh trio by repeating their word. Every activity encouraged us to really listen, to really become aware of those around us. Back on our feet we had to walk around being ourselves, thinking about how we moved. Then Ali asked us to do the polar opposite, completely changing the way we walked. I had been trying to relax and walk tall, rolling my feet from heel to toe. Now I shuffled with flat feet and hunched. Ali instructed us to bring that character back to the table and adopt a persona. My “Grandma Betty” sounded rather tame when compared to some of my colleagues. The Right Honourable Penelope – politician – aged 35 from London. Mrs Glob,working in a chicken factory for four fecking years, aged 58 – from the north. I say what i like, do what I feel. Pete – construction site worker – aged 41 – nothing to hide.
Parlinder58 – architect – second generation Sri Lankan – trained in Kandy. . .
With our personalities established, Ali asked us to point to who we would like in the “hot seat” and instructed the chosen character to tell us more about themself. Roger the Dodge – bit of this, bit of that , under the table, like, but keep it clean. . .what was my biggest deal? We-ell, I don’t like to boast but I flog stuff from building sites . . . Parlinder here knows all about the cement lorries . . .

Now we were ready for work with a script. I fully expected to be given something concrete, like a speech from a Shakespeare play. No! Our groups of three were each give identical scripts with three lines “Hallo” “You’re late” “I know”. Player C was the director while players A and B spoke the words. In my group C directed us in a scenario where I – as A – was the always-late fond auntie – rushing from selling my crochet at a Craft Fair to meet my nephew B who had been patiently waiting in a cafe for 45 minutes. It is amazing what may be achieved from a three line script with a bit of emotion and a lot of imagination.
It is difficult to distil the essence of the workshop. It was all about LISTENING, interacting with and responding to one another and, above all, collaborating. I returned home energised with my spirits uplifted.

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