House and grounds

At Saturday's rehearsal we got to play with lots of props, none of which behaved as one would expect.
Unloading the huts from the car and van was a wonderful spectator sport. Although they are not heavy, and can be handled pretty easily by one or two people, they are awkward, and stable in some directions, but not others. It's a little like moving a section of monkey bars (Oh, sorry, if you didn't grow up in New York City, "jungle gym"). Getting them into the building was the beginning.

Mia unloads a hut from her car

A section of astro-turf is a pretty innocent thing until you try to wear it like a cape (pretty hot), wrap yourself in it, or snap it down on the ground, unrolled, in a single motion. We tried various ways of putting our hands on the edges, sometimes crossing our wrists, somtimes tucking our fingers under the edge. Of course none of this virtuoso finger work willl show, unless something terribe happens and one of us manages to mash our fingers between the dowels...It's all in the wrist, it turns out. A little like bull fighting without the blood.


Mark untangles the huts on the van

We rolled them, we unrolled them, we walked with them wrapped around our bodies and flying behind us. Sometimes it was easy; othertimes it would have been just as easy to use sod.

Then of course we stood on our own patch of turf

and did whatever we would do in our own back yards. We attempted swimming, fly fishing, yoga, dancing, sewing--you'll see. Some activities are more visible than others. And of course we don't yet know what the music will sound like. It's all like an exercise in maybe. But it is fun.

then he gets to wrestle

We tried out the binoculars and then tried to remember what it was we had done as birdwatcher the week before. Fortunaely the group memory (better in some group members than others) reconstructed what we had done. Then, of course, we changed it.

Working in a gym, big as it may be, is still not like being in a quarry--the size alone is another prop, or element, or factor. It's really there. So, when we trot happily from one end of the gym to another, and are not tired, or too hot, it's misleading


The trick is to do it on granite, with tiny loose pebbles underfoot, and the sun beaming down. Ah, the joys of art!

We are all looking forward to trying it out for real. We'll see how it goes. So will you.







Alison shows us how it goes.

Tawanda alone

Maybe you remember a gull from last year's performance in the Settlement Quarry. Maybe you remember Tawanda dangling from a backhoe. The way I remember Tawanda is the first time I saw him. I don't know which incarnation of Quarryography it was, but it was early in Cableman's life. And Tawanda's. (not mine, though). Anyway, here is this small man leaping off edges of the quarry to land five or so feet below, in bare feet. I was sure he'd snap one of his valuable ankles, or worse. Apparently not.

So, he's performed in the quarry maybe three or four times. And given wonderful workshops, in which we all had to be cranes (harder than you think), or harvesters, or just dance. All in second with deeply bent knees.

He will be performing solo at the Stonington Opera House on Wednesday evening. Seven p.m,, for five dollars. You should be there. He has been studying dance as a grad student at Southern Methodist University--they have a great dance department. It has to be interesting to see what he's done.

And we have the next rehearsal for Q2: Habitat on Saturday. We will practice bird-watching in the gym. See you Wednesday.

Quilla returns

Wednesday was one of those days. It was beautiful--the sun was shining, it wasn't too hot, and Cape Rosier glowed in the light. Of course for the intrepid puppeteers pushing Quilla along on the grass, it might not have felt so idyllic.
As you probably remember from last year, Quilla is a giant porcupine. You might not have seen her as she is now, a skeleton. This way you get to see what makes her move. Galley slaves. In this case, from front to back, Scott Springer, Skip Harbour and Sarah Doremus are the forces that make her move.

It's pretty easy to watch, but very complicated to get Quilla moving. She has four legs, and wheels. And the legs and feet are jointed--she has knees. Walking Quilla from the inside looks a little like rowing, but upsidedown.

Mark was the one who gave the puppeteers directions on how to make her move. For Sarah, this was a first time--the other two did it last year, but that didn't make the ground any smoother.

Finally they moved onto a graveled space, and were able to really move out. Quilla looked fabulous, if a little slim.

Most porcupines aren't so large that three adults can fit inside, but then again, most don't have starring roles in a theatrical production that takes place in a quarry. And most porcupines don't share the limelight with a bunch of dancers and a back hoe. All that makes Quilla very special. Alison is explaining the story and telling Zephyr Martin, who will be performing with Quilla, to look her in the eye.

Meanwhile Mark made some minor adjustments to Quilla with a hammer.

This duck will not be performing int he quarry. Too cute.

first rehearsal

First, if you were expecting sparkling writing, let me refer you to the first two posts I wrote this morning on this subject. The first one Microsoft ate, explaining that it had to shut down unexpectedly. In the second, during a misguided attempt to arrange the photos in a more appealing layout, the whole thing disappeared. Anyway, I was unable to retrieve it. Here it is again, slightly different, and already old. The first rehearsal for community participants in Q2; Habitat, was yesterday morning. Statistically, I can assume you were not there, as only about 10 or 12 of use were (besides Alison and Mia). Most of the community participants came "from away"--Brooksville. Two of us were from Deer Isle, and one, Stonington. Where were you when we needed you?

As you may recall from the first post about Mia and Primordial Man (this is indeed a quiz), Mia talked about turf, and how everyone wants a piece of it, and we all have to share it.

She failed to mention how stiff turf is, and how hard it is to bend it to your will, especially if you have to get it up from the ground and around your body in one smooth movement--like a Veronica, but without the bull. Anyway, we practiced putting it on, taking it off, laying it out and moving in it. Alison demonstrated (pink sneakers) and then various groups practiced moving in a line, weaving and serpentining like Alan Arkin in "The In-Laws."

It was fun, and the pictures created by tubular beings moving in various sequences is one of those things that's a lot more than the sum of its parts.

It would appear that bird-watching is what Sue Bergen has wanted to do her entire life.

process

Mia says Primordial Man (and I'm not sure that's his name) looks quite different now. Here's how he gets to change. Long-suffering Mark puts the puppet on and staggers around a bit,
and Mia takes a look from a distance, to see what he might look like in the quarry, which is huge.

And here's a picture of Mia in a crane-puppet-head. The mysteries are boundless. What prompts these particular images, and, of course, how do you translate the images into reality. Even though Mia and Mark have a history of making giant puppets, it's pretty remarkable. And, for those of you who have elected not to be in Q2: Habitat, but to watch it (most of you), you miss seeing how big these things are in person, so to speak. It's a trip.

Puppets

Hey! Now that the rains have come, I am back inside, leaving my garden to its own devices. Between the end of last year's Q2 Habitat and now, it seems that it faded from memory. I forgot about the giant porcupine, the backhoe, the hut people, the gulls, and even us (or me and others), the birdwatchers. The winter was consumed with another kind of dancing--this time indoors, on small stages--jazz, modern and something like what used to be called modern ballet. Anyway, we performed in places people could see our faces, and in the Cherryfield Elementary School (eat your hearts out, Broadway dancers) people could count the hairs on our heads if we had stood still long enough. That's so different from performing in the quarry there should be another name for one of those.

Here Mai is working on the head of a "Primordial." She thought that the features were too defined. The easy way, adding something outside the original face, is full of difficulties. She pointed out that anything loose could snag (either coming up or going down...) and that the weight of a puppet 15 feet tall is something to consider. Someone has to hold it up.

Mark is getting into the puppet harness. The puppet is largely pvc pipe and screening, but is still pretty scary, even bent over.

It's easy to forget, over the winter, how huge the quarry is. How big the performance space is, and what it must take to make an impact.

Mia Kanazawa and her husband Mark Kimchi have had that space in their minds all year. When I visited them and watched them work on a prototype "primordial." the size of the whole project came to life for me. The puppet is ominously large, and with its ghost-like face, pretty creepy. It seems not to have the innate joie de vivre that Cableman had (unless you saw him as an animated Golem, but that's your problem).

The casting call/first rehearsal for this year's Q2; Habitat is Saturday, and I'm very curious about what the call will be like--what we will see and do--and what the whole thing will be. Mia says it's all about turf. "We all want our piece of turf. We do; the animals do. It's all of a single piece, so we must find a way to share it. "

at last

I kept looking and looking for the Story at the Quarry blog, thinking I had missed it. Well, here we are, and not a moment too soon. Saturday 10-12 at the Island Community Center in Stonington is the first casting, and if you ever thought you might like to participate in a big spectacle, here's your chance. As usual, Mia and Alison will be there asking odd and interesting things of those who show up. I have already pretended to be a sea gull (you can look at last year's posts). In the more distant past I pretended to be a small scrunchy animal that moved fast, but hunched over. It might be more comfortable for a hamster than it was for me. Carol Estey also tried it.

I drove out to Harborside on Cape Rosier to see Mia Kanazawa and her husband Mark Kinchi work on the puppets. If you have not seen an Alison/Mia/Quarry production, well, shame on you--but you can't imagine the scale of the whole project. One year it was Cableman, 15 feet tall, dangling from a backhoe when he wasn't strolling along animated by brave puppeteers. Last year there were porcupines--two sizes--small and cute and giant and glad you didn't meet it on a dark night in an alley.

This year--well, have a look at what might be a prototype. Or it might be something that doesn't work, but that doesn't mean no one worked on it.

I just got a message from Blogger that it could not be contacted (then how did I hear from it?)
Anyway, it doesn't look as if the pictures will show up today. So I'll try tomorrow.

Meanwhile, think about Saturday. Alice