film night-morning - Ivan (AUS)

We've been trying to organise a film night for the circus kids for so long now. We want to show them that circus is not what it used to be. Those big tops full of sawdust and elephant poo still exist, yes, but there is a lot more to circus these days. We want to nurture their creativity, so that we can come closer to giving them creative control over their circus company. People often say that Nepali people just aren't very creative, and when I hear this, I want to slap them. Then I decide not to slap them, but rather, to try and prove them wrong. We also want to give the kids a chance to do something different, something social, show them that it's not all just push-ups and handstands, painful stretches and continually picking up earthbound objects. After constant set-backs, cancellations and miscommunications, we managed to finally have our film night yesterday. In the morning.

They loved the videos, all of them. In that way, at least, we succeeded. Amazing to show them one of my favourite old clowns, George Carl, and see those Nepali kids just lose it. That's what it's all about, it's not exactly high-brow comedy, but the universality of clown  is beautiful to behold (and to readers who hear the word clown, and think of Ronald Macdonald, or some other over-the-top technicolour nightmare, check out George Carl. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v0eAVjaQrUA ). It's funny to watch if you grew up in a middle-class family Hawthorn, Australia, and it's funny to watch if you were sold off to be a child-slave in India at the age of 5.

I'd pictured the film night as an opportunity for the kids to unwind and open up. A casual thing, you know, groups sitting around tables, maybe some couches, bowls full of nibbles on each little table. I'd imagined promoting dialogue by asking simple questions, getting to know what people think, letting the kids talk freely. I got to our venue at 9:30 a.m. to see that it was set up like a cinema: rows of seats, all facing forward. Oh well, I suppose they were only trying to help. Between video clips, I stood up there and made an idiot of myself, asking everyone what parts they liked, what parts they didn't like, trying to talk about the difference between contemporary circus and old-school circus, or trying to tell them that if there were any skills which they wanted to learn from what they saw, then we could work it out together. Everything I said was met with mystified silence. I might as well have been talking Swahili. It reminded me of way back when I studied physics, and would sit in those massive lecture halls, with that little lecturer rattling on about quantum theory, completely oblivious to the chorus of snores and text messages all around him. I felt very alone just then. Towards the end of the session I finally gave up and just snuck around the room, chatting to people individually. This worked much better, and I discovered many of the kids' secret aspirations, and fears. I was explaining to one of the girls that these acts take years to master, and she said something like "But you're going to go away in a few months anyway, like all of the volunteers". I replied that I'm going to stay for at least a year, and she seemed genuinely pleased. It felt good to say this, because I'd been trying to decide how long I'd like to stay for, but now that I've said this to the Sapana kids, I have to follow through with it.

Since that morning of the film-night-morning, I've been hitting the Nepali books hard, I'm determined to get enough fluency with Nepali that I can break down this language barrier. Then we can really start making progress towards building this company together.

Eye of the Storm - Ivan (AUS)

photo from ICIMOD, by Shaun Plumtree

On the 14^th of September, Sapana will be performing at the British School. For the last two weeks, the kids have been busy with exams, and training has been off. It has been a truly hair-raising experience being so close to a performance, but not being able to actually rehearse or create material. Shaun has been making using the spare time to research and plan an upcoming Permaculture project, while I’ve managed to keep busy with the many unusual tasks that emerge organically from our office.

Now that exams are finally over, the kids have mostly returned to training and have to quickly get their performance hats on. In the creation of this performance, we will be collaborating with a social-theatre group called the Cambridge Rickshaw Theatre Project.

(http://rickshawtheatreproject2011.blogspot.com/)

As well as working with Sapana, they will be working with 30-40 of EBT’s rescued kids to create this show. We are keen to see how we can incorporate their knowledge of theatre, clown, puppetry, mask and music into this and potential future shows.

In helping to create Nepal’s first contemporary circus, we must often answer a difficult question: what is contemporary circus, actually? The easiest answer is that it is a reaction against traditional circus. Traditional circus has a colour scheme, a style of music, a big top tent, a particular act-by-act format, and of course, the animals. Contemporary circus ignores, avoids or even protests against these ideas, seeking inspiration from other artforms or from the world at large.

As a young discipline, it is easier to say what contemporary circus isn’t, than what it is. Cirque du Soleil have made their own mark on the style by creating vibrant worlds, with hordes of performers on stage at once, in abstract, colourful costumes, whilst musicians roam around, playing and singing in an invented language. Meanwhile Cirque Archaos from France performed in abandoned buildings and vacant lots, using large metal structures, cars, motorbikes and chainsaws and mock - decapitations to create an entirely different experience: visceral shows that were seen, heard and smelt. In Australia, we have Circus Oz, for whom nothing is beyond ridicule. Traditional circus elements will be used satirically, or even to make political statements (for example the human cannonball act which was, in one show, used to highlight Australia’s dubious immigration policy, and of course the minister for immigration was invited to opening night). More than any particular style, it is the individuality of each company that stands out, and it is this individuality which makes contemporary circus so exciting to watch, and sees its popularity grow across the world.

For us, working with CRTP is a valuable step. My vision is to see Sapana burst onto stages throughout Nepal and the world, with shows that the express the individuality of its members, their personalities, their energy and their freedom. By collaborating with other companies across other forms of physical theatre and self-expression, I feel that we are coming closer to this.

The long awaited photos - Ivan (AUS)

As mentioned in the previous blog, we ran a trial workshop a few weeks ago, at a transitional centre run by Kathmandu-based organisation Just One. We treated it like a pilot workshop, to look at the potential for doing some more social circus work. On the way there, I grumbled to Eli that we had talked ourselves into working on Saturdays, but as we left, we both agreed that there was no better way to spend a Saturday than to laugh, dance, make things, juggle, hula hoop and play games. We have now made plans to run fortnightly Saturday workshops at this transitional centre in Khusibu.

We didn't ask the kids to hold hands, but since they did anyway, we turned it into a game, sending a body-wave around the group. Fortunately, there were some avid hip hop dancers among the group, so this didn't take much explaining.

Name jump is a great drama game, which teaches principles of complicite and improvisation. It's also an excellent game for people who have trouble remembering names.

Meanwhile, back in the lab...

After learning my initial juggling-ball making technique (little bag, rice, balloons), the kids quickly improvised and added their own ideas to the process.

Some were eager to show off their juggling skills, while others were more concerned with making the most colourful possible juggling balls. The Nepali word for colourful, rangi changi, is one of my favourites.

The very first trick a juggler should learn is how to drop the balls, pick them up, and try again.

This was me quickly practicing before the kids got back, because I actually had no idea if my plan for the hula hoop making session would work.

Eli and I like to invent new drama games which help us to learn the language. In this one, when we call out different words, the kids must freeze in a certain shape. This is what they do when we call out 'sangla'

We let the kids go wild with our rangi changi tape, to decorate their own rangi changi hoops.

Eli's dance routine was very popular. Eli had neglected to warn me that at one point in the routine I would have to pretend to be a monkey and scare the children away. Luckily I'm more inclined to act like a monkey than your average person.