And thats a wrap. The final thoughts of my piece are below in the video. Please excuse the poor grammar choices, the “urm’s”, the fashion choice, my accent, the overuse of the word “like” and the very awkward face I pull at the end. That’s all that I’m apologising for this part. I have learnt to not say sorry for every little mistake that happens.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TbSfoc-KFZA&feature=youtu.be

Overall I am really happy with the outcome of my performance and wouldn’t change it. Granted I would have made minor tweaks here and there but I’m content. A level of doing this performance piece was that it was such a brilliant way of getting everything out there and managing my emotions and feelings. I think I managed to avoid any cliché about heartbreak and actually flipped it around to make fun of it. Love is a fickle thing that is able to tear us apart on the inside and I believe the message of Lovefool is that it’s ok to fall in love, and also to fall out of it. But when you do fall out of it it is important to make no mind of it and to progress yourself further into whatever makes you happy. I fell in love, then fell out of it but managed to regain myself by putting every bad mood swing and stage of sadness into the creative process of making this piece. I’m thrilled that this was my last show at university and a massive thank you to everyone who has helped bring out my inner artistic potential and who helped me build up this performance.

(Davies .K, 2015, The Set)

And here it is. The subject of weeks of self reflection, discovery, tears, blood, sweat and sore vocal chords. The set of Lovefool is one that is minimal at best. One mannequin is sat the right, another one that is more underdeveloped is at front watching, a more feminine stature is on the left sat at the back, and on the far right another masculine torso watch from behind. The seating is small, 3 rows on 3 different angles to seat every 25 humans present. A microphone is in the exact middle, so the struggling male singer can be scrutinised from every angle of the hungry audience. There he will stand to perform a song, then after he will confess, profess and preach to the audience. Adorned on the floor are torn flower petals, both pink and red, almost like confetti. The petals are reminiscent of a very cheesy romantic scene where the prominent lover lures his “prey” to the boudoir.

The lighting also appealed to me, on a personal level, purely due to how there is such a element of cringe to it. The two red lights resemble a heart and when it was just the red there was a strong undertone of a cabaret lighting, dark, moody and intense. The pink brings this element of camp too it, and also a sense of humanity as well. When I step onto the pink and that is the only colour there I am allowed to perform a monologue where I am allowed to step out from the Singer character and be me and talk to the audience. No illusions, no pretentiousness and no cliché. No other colours apart from pink and red were allowed purely because I didn’t see the need to include them.

Overall the set appeals to me. It gives me this impression of a delapitated bar/club where you still have this Singer who refuses to go. He will stay there and perform about love, he will talk about his heartbreak, he will sing for you and he will then make fun of the trauma he carries. And at the end he will walk off the stage and close the curtain behind him. This was his “last hurrah” in a sense and in closing the curtain he symbolises the departure of his old love, and now leaves for a new one.

The mannequins have appeared to taken a life of their own and now my own personal sanity seems to have been restored. This talk of me trying to be in love and become a mannequin is something that Tadeusz Kantor, a polish painter, theatre director and set designer. Kantor spoke about how the mannequin in his theatre must become a model which passes a strong sense of death and the conditions of the dead (Romanska, 2012, P.265) The mannequins used in Lovefool are objects, yet they are resembling human bodies. The mannequins are a non-being yet they have the appearance as the audience and actor. By me dressing up the main mannequins this me then actually giving it a life and an actual identity? By covering the bare body of the mannequin have I turn given it essence?

(Davies .K, 2015, The Lover)

There the mannequin sits, as he is dressed and watching me perform. The mannequin has embodied the image of man, and is playing the part of a audience member, as well as a effigy of the embodiment of every bad relationship I have ever had. I find myself questioning what the audience will thing of a head and torso connected adorned with a blazer, trousers, washing up gloves, glasses and a bandana all bound together with sellotape and the hope that none of it will fall off mid performance. If the mannequins has been given an identity then surely this aspect of “solo” has been diminished but this new actor?

This “death” that is brought on by the mannequins is relatable to almost celebrate the death of love. And here my relationship. And now with the mannequin dress it becomes a symbol of both life and death, the life being shown on the outside but the hollow shell inside void with anything inside.

WORKS CITED:

Romanska, M. (2012). The post-traumatic theatre of Grotowski and Kantor. London: Anthem Press, P.265

As the weeks go by in this process I find myself at a emotional and mental standstill. The piece is driving me insane. Reliving why a relationship failed over and over again is not fun. It’s like this continuous cycle of researching, looking into, and reflecting on the idea of love and, as the artist, I realised I had caused this predicament for myself. I have such a lack of experience of love and the ones I did have where far from blissful. Here I had created a show which almost celebrated this failure of the first true love I had. Just like a recurring night terror I would relive this until the performance and perhaps even then. It sounds insane, but I actually seem to rely on the mannequins. I can project any negative emotion onto them and they won’t say anything. They will just be there.

It does sound completely irrational and ridiculous but as the runs of the show go on and the emotions become more real I find that the mannequins that are watching me are acting as much as a suit of armour for me as the character of the Singer are. They are empty lifeless beings, vessels if you would, that I can create backstories for and give them a identity.

The main mannequin currently is the one I seem to identify with more. He is lifeless. He lacks any limbs and doesn’t speak but thats fine. As the Singer I will make him accept me as one of his own, a mannequin a statue if you would. As the Singer, I have decided to dress him in my own clothes and give him his own identity. If I give him all of my most treasured items will he then in turn love me? This is the questions I must ask myself to make this real as the performer. Below is the prototype for the base head and body of the main mannequin:

(Davies. K, 2015, Mannequin)

Before the show starts I will stand at the microphone, still and tense with no movement whatsoever. This is my tribute to the mannequins here, as I try and change everything about my being to become one. The character of the Singer has this dichotomy almost in which he knows what he is doing is ridiculous, brazen and plain stupid yet he still does it. This search for love from anything has poisoned him and in turn I feel like it is poisoning me as the artist and performer. As the performer I have just come fresh of a break up and now I must become this entity who wants to replicate himself as a lifeless vessel because he is in love with it. It sound’s so terribly pretentious and difficult but the idea of Solo Performance, to me, is that anything produced has to be real and honest. If you are lying then I don’t think, personally, that the audience will get behind you and support your work. Solo requires you to delve deep into your soul and your mind and dig furiously to figure yourself out. It’s therapy, a brutal one at that, but it’s probably the best form of therapy I’ve ever had.

I must be going mad, talking about loving mannequins and how I seem to have this bi-polar with the character of the singer, but I know that the end result will be a remedy for me to move on and be happy again. As cheesy as it sounds.

In further research of love in general I have developed a short segment right after the part where I step out from the character and address the audience. This segment is one thats almost a very tongue in cheek jab at today’s hook up culture. I will relay actual pick up lines to the audience that may or may not have worked and then leave. It may cheapen the meaning a little of the show but any lack of integrity I had will be gone when I repeat the word “fuck” five times in the segment about how using the word “it’s not you, it’s me” is a bad way to break up with someone.

Below are actual pick up lines, some amuse me and other disgust me:

If I could rearrange the alphabet I would put my D in U.

Do you live in a corn field? Because I’m now stalking you.

I just shit my pants… Can I get in yours?

 I want to melt in your mouth… Not in your hand.

I have also decided to end this moment with the ever so classily readjusted way of saying “I hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave”. This is probably my most the highest point of my acting in my whole time at this university:

And finally I know that it’s gonna be hard for you to see me go, but I know you’re gonna love watching me leave.

I used this idea of adding pick up lines purely to make light of this hook up culture we as young people have nowadays. We have downloaded apps on our phones like Tinder or Grindr to purely scout for available people who are willing to have sex with you. Long gone are the days of courting your lover to a midnight row boat picnic and under the stars you will profess both of your undying love for one another and make love for 5 minutes. No they are long gone. Today we exchange pictures of our genitals before we even know the other persons name and then arrange a soul crushing hour of mediocre sex with someone we wouldn’t even be interested in if we saw them on a nigh tout. It’s this idea of just having sex on tap that confuses and bewilders me so. Having sex whenever you want actually cheapens any type of love you will ever have because if you want a cuddle, you can just check your app. Everyone is guilty of at least one instance of this happening and that’s completely fine but to have countless notches on your bedpost surely is not a good look? It’s this death of love and sex that I just had to incorporate a element of into the show.