Between rehearsals we’ve been squeezing shoots in. Looking to use more video than last time, which was audio-heavy to be sure. Editing all day yesterday and started to go stir crazy. Here’s a snippet:
illustrating milk wood….
much more to come but if you would like to ‘see’ milkwood (and buy your own little slice of llareggubiness) come along to the Addison rd open day on May 16….or to the Eveleigh Artisans market down at Carriageworks on June 6.
Storyboarding….1st stage….abstract + intuitive
night, bible black….dreams……as the town wakes + blind captain cat…..the bustle of the town during the day…..sloe afternoon….as the town turns to dusk
Cartography
This seems to be the main direction i am exploring in trying to visualise llareggub.
I am looking at mapping the town, based on the text and my own experiences in quirky sleepy little towns…starting with this…. (detail)…
On top of this i am starting to layer other maps – traditional like topography, vegetation, buildings, animals, water, cirulation + transport, movement of the sun and moon and more emotion centric maps like relationships, both fulfilled and unfulfilled, dreams and desires, ghosts, places of procreation (v important to explore Thomas’s cheeky side i think 
) and even more ephemeral things like tea leaf readings and most importantly sounds.
In terms of my own project for uni i will also try and layer maps of sydney, The addison rd center and marrickville and perhaps other townships to identify hidden paths that may in time give a more unique poignancy and relevance to my understanding of this production of UMW.
more to come……
Lips is a penny.
Hello 2010. It’s already February, holy crap. To welcome in the newish year, some video from our workshops. I’ve been experimenting (as you’ll know if you’ve been following along) with cartography extensively. Paintings blend with high res maps scans from old Welsh tour guides (read most bizarre and invigorating extracts below). Also been playing with dust/dusk – see below. And finally, Bessie Bighead (even though she was looking all the time) – beloved amongst her beloved cows.
I can’t believe we’ve yet to tackle Gossamer.
SECOND VOICE
Gossamer Beynon high-heels out of school The sun hums down through the cotton flowers of her dress into the bell of her heart and buzzes in the honey there and couches and kisses, lazy-loving and boozed, in her red-berried breast. Eyes run from the trees and windows of the street, steaming ‘Gossamer,’ and strip her to the nipples and the bees. She blazes naked past the Sailors Arms, the only woman on the Dai-Adamed earth. Sinbad Sailors places on
her thighs still dewdamp from the first mangrowing cockcrow garden his reverent goat-bearded hands.
GOSSAMER BEYNON
I don’t care if he is common,
SECOND VOICE
she whispers to her salad-day deep self,
GOSSAMER BEYNON
I want to gobble him up. I don’t care if he does drop his
aitches,
SECOND VOICE
she tells the stripped and mother-of-the-world big-beamed and Eve-hipped spring of her self,
GOSSAMER BEYNON
so long as he’s all cucumber and hooves.
Continuing from a post Zoe has… posted… I have further delved into the anthropological rumblings of the text. At Bryony’s behest, I have stapled a couple of walking tours of Wales to this entry that might frame the passage of time and the representation of the countryside from outside Wales’ borders, this text coming onto bookshelves a great deal earlier than Thomas. Comparing it with the Red Guide that has formed our initial fascination with the anthropological narration of Wales, it’s… somewhat unsurprisingly bleak.
An English Reverend: A SECOND WALK THROUGH WALES, Rev*. Richard Warner, OF BATH taken in AUGUST AND SEPTEMBER 1798. Published 1800.
Much of our pleasure has arisen from an accidental addition to our party, the two younger Mr. Th-m-s’s, of P It ch, Glamorganshire, who yesterday morning joined us at Cowbridge. Their society has been of material use, as well as productive of great satisfaction to us, since an intimate acquaintance with this part of Wales enables them to point out a variety of minute objects of curiosity, which, without such an assistance to our enquiries, would probably escape the notice of strangers.
Of Caerphilly
We quitted Newport the 5th, and proceeded through a pleasant country towards Caerphilly, a town on the eastern confines of Glamorganshire. Our walk afforded but little room for remark, the scenery being tame, and the population scanty, compared with the trat we had hitherto past. An agreeable and lively effect, however, in the landscape, arises from a practice, which is become very common among the Welsh peasantry; a great object of their ambition (would to heaven all ambition were equally innocent!) is to render their little dwellings conspicuous, by coating them with whitewash. This gives a great appearance of neatness and cleanliness to the cottages, and at the same time adds to the picturesque of the country; for although a great breadth of white, produced either by a number of houses grouped together and whitewashed, or by a large single mansion covered in the same glaring manner, be disgusting to true taste, yet small detached cottages thus coloured, sprinkled through wooded valleys, or studding the broad sides of verdant mountains, produce a relief and contrast in the scenery that are highly gratifying to the eye…
Of Pont-Neath-Fechan
No sooner was our supper dispatched, Mrs. Jones gave us notice, that at a neighbouring public-house the cottagers had met, and were dancing to the sound of the village harp. The idea of a genuine Welsh Ball pleased us highly; and Mr. Gilpin having previously discovered that our company there would not be considered as intrusive, we immediately adjourned, under his auspices, to the scene of festivity. , With regard to myself, I confess, that happiness is always contagious; nor can I see others merry, without feeling an emotion of joy also; I cannot express, therefore, the pleasure I felt on entering the room. It was not, indeed, very commodious, nor famously illuminated, being about fifteen feet square, and having only one solitary candle of sixteen to the pound. The party, however, which consisted of twenty-five or thirty, made up for every defect; animated by the tones of their favourite national instrument, and enlivened with the idea of the week’s labours being terminated, (for it was Saturday night) they entered con amore into the business of the evening, and exhibited a complete picture of perfect happiness.
Of Anglesey:
Of the agriculture, we have to regret that we cannot give a tolerable account. It is a languid, spiritless, unprofitable system; the consequences of which are too visible in scanty crops and a poverty-stricken peasantry. A dearth of fuel adds to the other inconveniences of the labouring poor, obliging them to rob the commons of their shallow staple, which they pare off without mercy; procuring, by these means, an incombustible kind of turf, badly answering the purposes of burning. Land, which if improved, or tolerably cultivated, would let for twenty shillings per acre, now goes for seven shillings, another proof of wretched husbandry. To this neglect of tillage, however, there are some exceptions, particularly the extensive property of Mr. Panton, which is in a state of rapid improvement. Black cattle are one of the staple produces of Anglesey. They are large, handsome beasts, and being exported in great quantities, make a considerable return to the island.
Of funerals in Anglesey:
Like all other ignorant people, they are extremely superstitious; and of the power of witches, the appearance of ghosts, and the tricks of fairies, they ” hold each strange tale “devoutly true.” Much singularity is observable in their funerals, and some curious circumstances distinguish the North-Wallian courtships from the mode of making love in South-Britain, When a person dies, the friends and relations of the deceased meet in the room where the corpse lies, the evening previous to the funeral. Here the male part of the company are seen smoking, drinking, cracking their jokes, and sometimes indulging themselves with a Welsh air; whilst the women are kneeling round the corpse, weeping bitterly, and bewailing, in terms of ” loud lament,” the loss they have experienced. When the body is committed to the ground, the sexton, after casting the earth upon it, holds but his spade to the attendant mourners, who, in turn, contribute as much money as they can conveniently afford, The sum thus collected is a compliment to the officiating minister, and intended by the donors as a bribe to extricate the soul of the deceased -as quickly as possible out of purgatory.
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