Curious Tail Theatre Company

Courthouse Residency – Maggie – Reflection

maggie — Tue, 14 Sep 2010 14:13:52 +0000

So our residency has come to an end and the exhibition is installed and open to the public, until Oct 8th. Its been 6 weeks of many highs and many lows but with great learning and a huge outpouring of creative thought and energy as well as some great work. The artist each reflected on the process and their thoughts are now part of the exhibition in the form of an audio installation, i would encourage you , if you have 16mins to spare some day, to call into the courthouse and listen as they make some important observations. My own reflection on the process i summed up as follows at the opening on sun (12 sept) and wish to share it with you now. The true reflection of the process will hopefully come in our work over the next year or so and will have a lasting impact.

Reflection: This space, one month to alter. Being present each moment. Words caught in dry cavities. Heavy, wooden, confronting. Words. Words. Words. The limitations of our human minds. Misunderstandings. Stories caught by a thread. I will forget – I will forget – Leave me a memory. Mining through chalk and coal, searching for ways out and ways back. Attic moths, dusty prints falling from wings. Nostril floorboards the only sign of life. Confrontation, rejection, hiding, hidden. Spying. Washing an old love one last time. Remembering – remembering. Remember, remember, remember. Dust in the air and gone.

Courthouse residency – Louie aged 12 Devon

maggie — Tue, 14 Sep 2010 13:47:57 +0000

As i entered the darkened room, i saw something un-expected. An artist leaning on the strings, that would later be changed by my family. She leaned back on the strings as if they could support the weight of an elephant. After the artist left i looked at the messsage on the chair “anything is possible” it read. I went upstairs to find a pile of wooden words made from the word ‘alterations’. I took all the bad words i could find and took them downstairs and arranged them into phrases.

On the chair i left the words ‘real art’ and a younger boy left a doll. When i first entered the space i saw a drum hanging there, i didnt edit it.

Courthouse Tues 24th – jonathan

maggie — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 17:25:25 +0000

Howya…. just listened back to the sound recording….. yippeeeeeee it worked,
we have some really interesting results…. I might have to break with what I had originally decided and slightly Alter the sound… I’m thinking of just playing the sound twice,
once forwards and once backwards and combining the two, crossing them over each other so to speak… the crisscrossing lines of the string and the crossed wires of the last weeks events is the inspiration, we’ll see what happens out of it… if it works great, if not we have a great recording anyway…. the idea of using the recorder as a camera capturing sounds worked too…. I’d like to do it again as I’m sure I could get better at it……
this is great!

sounds abound all around….

Courthouse – Mon 23 – jonathan

maggie — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 19:57:38 +0000

Walking into the space on Saturday I immediately wanted to respond, which was great as even though I was tired and felt slightly flat (oh woe is me the fragility of it all bleaaaauuuuuuucccchhhhhh) I was spurned straight into activity with a lighter…
that got the ball rolling… my first irked feelings at the publics interaction took me by surprise… I had taken time to carefully arrange three of Niamhs moths in a flurry of pre-death activity, they had flung themselves at the yellow banner and although it was a soft and gently undulating piece of material, it had killed them…. not instantly, they had fallen to the floor upon impact unable to fly anymore and with a great final struggle tried to reach each other with a touch before dying, … their last struggle marked in the suffocating charcoal dust…. did they decide to end it together by flying into the yellow drape knowing it would kill them, (did one see the other do it and follow…. what the hell does it mean… meaning must be mined and squeezed… cannot cope with open endings… must know.. tell me…) then someone came in and walked on them…. that ended all that, they now looked like they had been ripped off the string and kicked around the dusty floor….. I felt annoyed, I didn’t want a part of this destruction…. I had just burned a banner and was feeling guilty and concerned at being misunderstood….

Then something else grabbed my attention…. Emma’s hoovering of the words on the wall… she had made it look more permanent by trying to remove it…. Maggie was quietly removing string from words and went industriously about her task… I made more impermanent drawings on the floor… I could get into this…
then I went up into the attic and made noise…. time for sound… I’m seem to be getting sucked into the here and now process more everytime I enter the space… I never intend it, it just seems the right way to go… it’s most relevant when trying to respond without prejudice…

later, I enjoyed walking under the string (sounds delightful) now that it’s been shifted up…. then decided to concentrate it even more and it’s now on a flatter plane… must puncture its one dimensionality now … back came the bamboo….. then burial chambers raised their heads, carefully positioned objects that only make sense from a certain view point…….noooooo not again, I thought that was over… then it made me think, my previous actions only make sense from a certain view point…. fine…. we’re back on track…. and the bamboo stays…. for now

Look at all that stuff in the corner over there…. look what the tide washed in…. is the string now a net… is that doll hanging up there still haunting me….is she now a fisherman’s wife….is that what ails her….. that’s it…… she’s coming down… face down…

Courthouse Sat 21st – Maggie

maggie — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 18:48:18 +0000

Well week 3 has come to a close as we are not working sun and mon, – the space has been messy, cleaned,messy, cleaned and now messy again! But of most interest to Jonathan and i as we finished up today was the build up of objects in the cornor – or as jonathan has named ‘that which has come in on the tide’, is this our ‘exhibition’ that word that has now become so loaded and loathed by us (or some) …

Anyways it was a calm and busy day that saw a good few visitors and some great sounds that have been recorded. Your sign Emma was sacredly burnt by jonathan and its ashes used on the floor – he will be emailing you on it just to make sure you ok

Am really curious about these mining stories that jonathan and i are developing, together with the image of coal and ashes … death and moths. Jonathan also created some great sketches on the wooden floor with the dust of the charcoal, some are linked by the holes in the floor – linking our mining stories and that of the doll.

I have placed dominics two drawings on the floor as you enter into both spaces (downstairs & upstairs) i want to see the tracks people make on them – this is also an experiment of an idea i might try later with coal and chalk dust at doors, so people can leave their impressions on the floor of their journey in the space for us.

Have taken all the string off the words and placed some of the string on the tree outside, have left the remaining string at the base of the tree should anyone wish to tie their own on.

Am very very tired and starting to really resent doing this blogg at the end of the day. However i know it will have value down the line, so i will keep mining away at it All other bloggs really really welcome …. takes pressure off this magmoth

Courthouse Fri 20 – Emma

maggie — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 18:32:29 +0000

I just loved your figures so much I peeled them off the floor yesterday and put them on the wall with masking tape! I hope this was ok.. they look beautiful.. I would frame them and have them on my wall at home (if I had one big enough!!.. could cut it up, but that would be a shame!!)

So, I am delighted at the prospect of seeing your series of drawings…

Admission time everyone!!!!
I had a housekeeping moment today in the peace of the place, as I was alone making a ton load of mess!!!.. I had wood shavings, and wood everywhere from the jigsaw and drill, and paint .. in short I trashed the place in the centre…and so I own up to being one of a couple of us who swept it up… YES i did clean up.. SO sorry everyone!!! I know the urge was felt by others too, but they wanted the authenticity of a working studio… I even made a banner yesterday saying “this in not an exhibition, it is a working studio!”… and here I am now to owning up to a clean up!!!! But along with cleaning up my total chaos I continued on up onto the floor of the stage…

There’s always one in a group… sorry… Maybe it opens up the space for new energy to come in…!?! Maybe not…..

Your graffittee is still on the wall Dominic tho… but I was intrigued when Owen was hoovering he left a line on the wall where the suction went and I found my self exploring your piece (Which I love and hope it stays for the exhibition..) with the hoover end… The charcoal actually can be hovered off the wall!!! So I got engrossed in trying to find the letters to ‘forget’ by highlighting them which I didn’t really do… but its fascinating to hoover the letters… Maybe hovering the wall could be performed at the opening as a performance!

Courthouse Fri 20 jonathan part 2!

maggie — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 15:59:41 +0000

I’m going mad with black moths flying around leaving black tracers coming off them veiling the area…. I think I’m really enjoying not using colour, and the black is sooo black and the white is pure white…. is this the antidote to me feeling a little sitfled with my current painting work at home…. maybe…. maybe it’s a cure for what ails me or maybe it’s just snake oil….. either way todays word is “antidote”.

I better go and buy some charcoal to bring down….. I’m loving no colour, no colour….
On another note, I’m producing some imagery from the photographs I took, they’re not ready yet so I’ll keep working on them….
I decided to print the memories as 6×4 photographs, ’cause they’re pretty much how most people up to recently store their memories….
I just got interested in the fact that all bloody photographs in family albums are generally preposterously insanely happy happy happy……..
they’ve become twisted in my head… everybody holding still and smiling, nothing to see under these grins…. move on to the next one,
we’re happy happy happy…. grinning grinning…. smile dammit,…..I’ve only one snap left………. next……next…… nothing to see…..
don’t ask questions and I won’t tell you no lies…… what…. are you afraid you might remember…….

ahhhhhhhhh Dr. Caligari leave me alone…..

I might have to print some of these ideas and snippetts…. I always love the idea of being able to see an artists sketch book and how they work….
They did that at an exhibition (yeah yeah yeah I know) in the guggenheim in Bilbao (oooh la la) I can’t remember who it was but they showed
notebooks and sketches, it was beguiling.

I took a peak at Dominic writing down notes on the very first day we met and I enjoyed watching the notes and marks being made…

right, enough, me gots to go…..

have a good day Magmoth

Courthouse Fri 20 – Jonathan

maggie — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 15:58:08 +0000

song below kills me everytime I hear it…I’m blasting songs around just ‘coz songs and music are…well you know, don’t mind me if they’re irelevant…I’m getting as much stuff out there without filtering it first…while I can… it won’t last I know it won’t…it never does… grab the moment…the here and now…. while you can…do it now…..is it relevant… is it silly…most probably….doubt…..doubt…..will it work… have i said too much…… what will they think….tick tock…..tick tock…..the process… the process….response…. call and response…. field hollers….. back to music… it’s all the sameit’s all the same…. lines.. pink neon lines defining angles getting blurred… bluring lines whirling whumpppppp….. passed out.

Nobody Knew She Was There
Nobody Knew She Was There(Ewan MacColl)She walks in the cold dark hour before the morningThe hour when wounded night begins to bleedStands at the back of the patient queueThe silent almost sweeping queueSeein’ no-one and not being seenWorking shoes are wrapped in working apronRolled in an oilcloth bag across her kneesThe swaying tremor soaks the morningBlue grey steely day is dawningDraining the last few dregs of sleep awayOver the bridge and the writhing foul black waterDown through empty corridors of stoneEach of the blind glass walls she passesShows her twin in sudden flashesWhich is the mirror image, which is real?Crouching hooded gods of word and number?Accept her bent-backed homage as their dueThe buckets steam like incense coilsAround the endless floor she toilsCleaning the same white sweep each day anewGlistening sheen of new-washed floors is fadingThere where office clocks are marking timeNight’s black tide has ebbed awayBy cliffs of glass awash with dayShe hurries from her labours still unseenHe who lies besides her does not see herNor does the child who once lay at her breastThe shroud of self-denial coversEager girl and tender loverOnly the faded servant now is leftHow could it be that no-one saw her drowningHow did we come to be so unawareAt what point did she cease to be herWhen did we cease to look and see herHow is it no-one knew she was there

Courthouse – thurs 19 – jonathan

maggie — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 00:39:39 +0000

…. black dark dust, confined spaces…. looking for a seam, hacking away at an impenetrable wall
keep hacking, something in there, beams holding up a floor seperating us from the gold or coal ar whatever the bloody hell we’re mining for
Maggie was Patience Kershaw the other day…. crawling dust laden through too small a space for a barrowfull of dead black coal…
maybe she had some pity for the moth bashing itself off the light on the miners helmet, the only bit of feminine spirit to be allowed into this black seam
…if i could catch you i’d crush you with my filthy hand.

Dominic, you reminded me of a miner I met in the Arigna mines in Roscommon, I imagined you mining that wall leaving behind the jet black dust….
The wood you carried out into the street made me see you carrying your axe head home to be sharpened for the next day’s work…

I dunno if it’s the Courthouse or the town itself and it’s setting, but stories keep hitting me in the head, they’re vague and unformed but they’re there…
and although they’re not happy, they’re life…

Testimony of Patience Kershaw
Testimony of Patience Kershaw(Frank Higgins)It’s good of you to ask me, Sir, to tell you how I spend my daysDown in a coal black tunnel, Sir, I hurry corves to earn my pay.The corves are full of coal, kind Sir, I push them with my hands and head.It isn’t lady-like, but Sir, you’ve got to earn your daily bread.I push them with my hands and head, and so my hair gets worn away.You see this baldy patch I’ve got, it shames me like I just can’t say.A lady’s hands are lily white, but mine are full of cuts and segs.And since I’m pushing all the time, I’ve got great big muscles on my legs.I try to be respectable, but sir, the shame, God save my soul.I work with naked, sweating men who curse and swear and hew the coal.The sights, the sounds, the smells, kind Sir, not even God could know my pain.I say my prayers, but what’s the use? Tomorrow will be just the same.Now, sometimes, Sir, I don’t feel well, my stomach’s sick, my head it aches.I’ve got to hurry best I can. My knees are weak, my back near bAnd then I’m slow, and then I’m scared these naked men will batter me.But they’re not to blame, for if I’m slow, their families will starve, you see.Now all the lads, they laugh at me, and Sir, the mirror tells me why.Pale and dirty can’t look nice. It doesn’t matter how hard I try.Great big muscles on my legs, a baldy patch upon my head.A lady, Sir? Oh, no, not me! I should’ve been a boy instead.I praise your good intentions, Sir, I love your kind and gentle heartBut now it’s 1842, and you and I, we’re miles apart.A hundred years and more will pass before we’re standing side by sideBut please accept my grateful thanks. God bless you Sir, at least you tried

Courthouse – wed 18th – Maggie

maggie — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 17:01:21 +0000

So today Dominic and I worked in the space. We were both feeling quite tired and i know my energy is flagging … my creative drive too! So i took it easy on my self and played about with the black paper moths, and exploring the dusty attic again.

Really like catching sigh of emma’s wish tree outside and got to take pictures of it last night too.

Dominic worked on drawings, feeling the need to leave us something physical in the space since we wont see him till the last day sun 29th.

I like what dominic has done to the wall – he felt bad about it leaving but i encouraged it so its not his problem in the end! I also asked him to leave the mess of charcoal on the stage – might help me with my need to tidy the space, and live with the process.

THIS IS NOT AN EXHIBITION MAGGIE. (yet)

Enjoyed exploring the attic with one of the moths – the image of it carrying the dust of the dead on its wings is getting stronger and more important for me. Like a ritual that has to be performed before they are allowed out into the space.

Am leaving early today, at 6, need to spend time away from here …. hope to be energised by it tomorrow.

I AM NOT GOING TO APOLOGISE ABOUT THE MESS ….

Maggie