thepropsmonster – Armagh Project 2014

Who am I even talking to?

thepropsmonster — Wed, 23 Jul 2014 21:47:55 +0000

We are not isolated performers, putting on a show with unlimited budget for noone to see. The audience is there, a breathing part of the theatre, and is one of the most important considerations in any theatrical piece. They can be provoked, abused, amused, shaken or pleasantly entertained but the key in all of those verbs is the subject. Unless you know your audience you cannot do anything to them. Jokes fall flat and. questions are lost in translation. They provide the context and constraints we must live within, or purposefully break, to produce our art.
Oh, and if your piece doesn’t resonate with your audience you make no money and are forced to do dinner theatre for the free meal o.r starve to death.

A Favored Umbra

thepropsmonster — Wed, 23 Jul 2014 08:28:53 +0000

Shadow of a Gunman by Sean O’Casey just noses ahead as my favourite in the photo finish of fantastic plays we have read as part of Armagh Project 2014. It has a nuanced driving action that keeps my attention with new discoveries each time I read. It also story that, while vital to tell, is kept hushed in most other works on the time period. Finally, and most importantly, the theme of conflict seeping into the lives of noncombatants is still resoundingly relevant today; approachable wherever violence rends the world apart.

Repression Itself

thepropsmonster — Tue, 22 Jul 2014 07:50:38 +0000

Kate in Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel seems the most actively repressed of the sisters in the play. She has existed as a church school teacher, under the thumb of many rules and the watchful eye of the local people. Kate is the first to attempt to stop something improper, from Rose’s escapade with the local boy to Father Jack’s falling from the church. Though Kate is a figure self repressed she too has a release during the dancing scene, last out and first to stop, but most intense as well. Kate’s dancing frees her from her shackles for a brief moment in time before the world sets back in on her.

Something Left short

thepropsmonster — Mon, 21 Jul 2014 07:41:50 +0000

Something Left is a short dramtic piece dealing with the questions of death and sacredness in the aftermath of a pub fight, fire and death.

Better there than here

thepropsmonster — Tue, 15 Jul 2014 22:20:14 +0000

I have noticed a good deal of people in Armagh with a very specific mindset: that the city itself is not worth seeing much of, that most anywhere is better than here.
Last week I was talking to a few people late at night in a bar in Armagh who thought the weather in Nebraska, though they knew nothing of my home state, absolutely had to be better than what was here. Once they learned of the snow and heat they became a bit more hesitant though.
Today I spoke to one of the wardens for quite some time and he told me I must have enjoyed Dublin far more than Armagh. He was sure of it and glad I am getting out this coming weekend.
It seems strange to be so sure of the boring nature of where you live as to impose that on willing visitors. I do enjoy it here quite a lot, especially the people I meet and the nature of the sky here. There is magic to be found everywhere.

Martin Lynch Preprogram Thoughts

thepropsmonster — Mon, 14 Jul 2014 22:23:25 +0000

Please follow the link below for an article about a play by Martin Lynch (writer of one of the works we are studying) as well as some of Lynch’s commentary on said play. The Legacy of the Troubles Review After reading the History of the Troubles(accordin to my da) and this article on another of Lynch’s works I was struck with the following questions to ask him at our meeting on Friday: How do you balance predicted audience disapproval of subject material with getting the story across? Do you ever hold back some of the realities of the conflict because you think it would distract the audience to be so disturbed, or is that a means to get your point across?

Dublin in images

thepropsmonster — Mon, 14 Jul 2014 06:19:43 +0000

Burn the witch

thepropsmonster — Sun, 13 Jul 2014 23:29:34 +0000

Nationality gives the individual a sense of something greater than themselves, be it for good or ill.
Friday night I met an man wized by many years and was spun many a tale. This man identified as an irish nationalist, very proud of his country and certain that the North would soon rejoin the South. When I got him talking about his country he light up with a passion absent in the cautionary tales and life stories. His sense of a united Ireland gave him more purpose. In a sense power.
On the same thread today I was taking pictures around Dublin, mostly of architecture and the like. While I was setting up a shot off away from the sidewalk a boy of about 15 yelled out to me “oh no no no. No pictures of me. Picture of me five dollar.” Confused as my camera was pointing in the opposite direction from him I just smiled and let his group of friends pass. After about 20 steps one of them turned and thew a pebble at me with remarkable acuracy, nicking me in the back of the neck. They took my apparent nationality (American) as something they could hold over me and reinforce their sense of power.
Cultural identity can be a very weird thing. It holds great power to inspire and to put down. When combined with the idea that all people within one area are the same, one nation, it can become a great force of inspiring change or a destuctive force based in discrimination, however small or large.

Where the royal drums do beat

thepropsmonster — Sat, 12 Jul 2014 08:20:37 +0000

Dublin.
A music city at last. Yesterday while walking around I was battered on all sides by a myriad of musical styles, culinary delights, history and theatre. A sensory explosion that left me wanting for more. Let us see what today brings.

Moving past

thepropsmonster — Thu, 10 Jul 2014 08:16:18 +0000

I am struggling through writing a script for the time being and have found this image relavent to my thought process.

What was once (and still is) a very sacred site for centuries, the graves at St. Patricks Protestant Cathedral, has been left behind by the world outside the walls. The graves grow over with moss as the housing complexes rise. What I am attempting to write deals with what is sacred and when do we lose it for our own self interests.