Thursday 17th August, 2018.
Let's go back 3 years. Outside Brickfields cafe in Chippendale, sitting on a park bench under a tree, that's where Sue and I first met.
I had just come back to Australia hoping to hear a kookaburra. I did actually hear one and lots of other things besides...
I, coffee cup in hand, look up and there is a young woman looking down at me. Who is this? I ask myself and she said "I'm Sue Healey". I must have looked blank. So she went on to say, "Shane Carroll said we HAD to meet".
And so we did. Right here and right now, as they say in Louisburg, (where I'd been living in West Virginia, in case you didn't know.)
So I move over and make room for her on the bench. And that turns out to be the beginning of a great adventure in dancing space.
Little do I know, that besides being a dancer, Sue is a filmmaker and that soon we will collaborate on a film that is really her idea, of a video portrait. What strikes me about Sue, before very long, that although we are a little different in our dance styles, we share the same feeling or instinct for stillness. I am fascinated. I go to see her performing with Martin del Amo at the Rex Cramphorn studio, and there I see Martin and Sue to my delight, introducing stillness into their dance, in such a contemporary way.
What do I do? I rush home and practice stillness. Not that that's entirely new to me, because I got the idea in Paris in the 1950's, where I had to earn my living as an artist's model, posing, changing pose, remaining still, but projecting myself to the painters, onto their canvases, and loving it.
But let's get back to the present.
Sue tells me, she's working on two things - a video portrait and a film for the transport dept, (in which she endangers the lives of young impressionable people who, the moment they come into contact with a railway track, leap about on it, which causes some people to say that she's a danger to the travelling society, as people would never get to work on time, because they'll be squashed like an avocado.) Never mind, we make the film and we eventually all go to see 'En Route' at Wynyard train station, which is the title of the film, and it is just great, and no-one actually got squashed or incited to dance dangerously on railway tracks. It is ART after all.
Interjection: when I first come back to Australia, I go to the Brickfields cafe every morning for breakfast and after a while I say to the proprietor, "what's been going on, Ive only been away for 60 years, but when I come back I find a country covered with squashed avocados" that's beside the point, but I just couldn't help mentioning it.
Getting back to Sue, she says to me, Im doing video portraits and I say "Vos is das? a video portrait?'
Interjection: my spelling of German is not good, but I learnt the language when I was a member of the Bodenwieser ballet.I digress.
Yes, she says, moving video portraits. So, she makes one of me and projects it onto 3 different screens, with 3 different expressions in the instant. Oh I say to myself, Australia is so much more contemporary than Louisburg, or even New York!
As for Paris and London and Kathmandu, where the yellow eye forever gazes down, let's forget that, and get back to video portraits.
Kipling never thought of that. (this is just a sneaky way of letting you know I lived in India and was the dancing girl in the Taj hotel in the 1950's).
So where was I?
The video portrait of me, just as me, mind you, was exhibited in Canberra and other places, and hey you people over there in Louisburg, Im famous!!
The day at the moment, as days do change, is Friday 17th August 2018.. Here I am back in Australia, kookaburras laughing their heads off all around me and I say in tones of rapture, 'there is no place like home'.
Let's go back 3 years. Outside Brickfields cafe in Chippendale, sitting on a park bench under a tree, that's where Sue and I first met.
I had just come back to Australia hoping to hear a kookaburra. I did actually hear one and lots of other things besides...
I, coffee cup in hand, look up and there is a young woman looking down at me. Who is this? I ask myself and she said "I'm Sue Healey". I must have looked blank. So she went on to say, "Shane Carroll said we HAD to meet".
And so we did. Right here and right now, as they say in Louisburg, (where I'd been living in West Virginia, in case you didn't know.)
So I move over and make room for her on the bench. And that turns out to be the beginning of a great adventure in dancing space.
Little do I know, that besides being a dancer, Sue is a filmmaker and that soon we will collaborate on a film that is really her idea, of a video portrait. What strikes me about Sue, before very long, that although we are a little different in our dance styles, we share the same feeling or instinct for stillness. I am fascinated. I go to see her performing with Martin del Amo at the Rex Cramphorn studio, and there I see Martin and Sue to my delight, introducing stillness into their dance, in such a contemporary way.
What do I do? I rush home and practice stillness. Not that that's entirely new to me, because I got the idea in Paris in the 1950's, where I had to earn my living as an artist's model, posing, changing pose, remaining still, but projecting myself to the painters, onto their canvases, and loving it.
But let's get back to the present.
Sue tells me, she's working on two things - a video portrait and a film for the transport dept, (in which she endangers the lives of young impressionable people who, the moment they come into contact with a railway track, leap about on it, which causes some people to say that she's a danger to the travelling society, as people would never get to work on time, because they'll be squashed like an avocado.) Never mind, we make the film and we eventually all go to see 'En Route' at Wynyard train station, which is the title of the film, and it is just great, and no-one actually got squashed or incited to dance dangerously on railway tracks. It is ART after all.
Interjection: when I first come back to Australia, I go to the Brickfields cafe every morning for breakfast and after a while I say to the proprietor, "what's been going on, Ive only been away for 60 years, but when I come back I find a country covered with squashed avocados" that's beside the point, but I just couldn't help mentioning it.
Getting back to Sue, she says to me, Im doing video portraits and I say "Vos is das? a video portrait?'
Interjection: my spelling of German is not good, but I learnt the language when I was a member of the Bodenwieser ballet.I digress.
Yes, she says, moving video portraits. So, she makes one of me and projects it onto 3 different screens, with 3 different expressions in the instant. Oh I say to myself, Australia is so much more contemporary than Louisburg, or even New York!
As for Paris and London and Kathmandu, where the yellow eye forever gazes down, let's forget that, and get back to video portraits.
Kipling never thought of that. (this is just a sneaky way of letting you know I lived in India and was the dancing girl in the Taj hotel in the 1950's).
So where was I?
The video portrait of me, just as me, mind you, was exhibited in Canberra and other places, and hey you people over there in Louisburg, Im famous!!
The day at the moment, as days do change, is Friday 17th August 2018.. Here I am back in Australia, kookaburras laughing their heads off all around me and I say in tones of rapture, 'there is no place like home'.
19th August 2018
When I think about the number 9 million, 543 thousand, 2 hundred and 17...
Today is the 19th August. I spent quite a few hours when I should have been asleep, thinking about the new blog I want to write. I am writing it in present tense coz at least half a dozen gurus told me that NOW is the thing.
Well, now, what's the matter with NOW? I really like to think about the past and the future. And anyway who does what gurus tell them to do?
Its funny, although I spent 4 years in India I never met any gurus, they all seem to be making a good living elsewhere.
I like Krishnamurti - in a way he is a guru, and as he pointed out, there's nothing weird or wonderful about gurus, they are just teachers. But I really had a great time in India. Apart from being the dancing girl at the Taj, I was a seeker, seeking for the truth. Krishnamurti said, 'truth is a pathless land'. This brings me right up to NOW. Tracey Spring and I have just finished writing a book. In it I quote Krishnamurti, and each chapter of the book has its own illustration page, not 3 pictures on one page, but the whole page in colour. In one of the illustrations I show two ecstatic looking people, male and female holding hands, standing in a big pathless land. They are free to go anywhere they like, at least they would have been if the world wasn't in chaos.
However Ive got the future to think about - a dance work Im hoping to redo quite soon has already been choreographed and performed in America. It's called Isis and Osiris - (Isis the Goddess not the infamous terrorists).
I like archetypal works. So my dancing life is full of kings and queens and goddesses. But that's not quite true either, one of my favourite works that I did in America is called 'Family Portrait'. It's a family of Pierrot's dressed in the traditional white costumes with big black pompoms. I think I'll do this one again in Australia. It was so traditional, yet so fresh. The dancers threw themselves into it with gusto.
I know Im leading you astray into all sorts of places, but I love making connections.
I've just written a story about a tortoise. In the 1940s this tortoise was the last animal left alive from a little zoo in the NSW Botanical gardens. (Recently Sue and I went to the gardens and found my friend the tortoise on a shelf in the administration building - poor darling, he'd been stuffed with a silly hat put on its head. We have requested that they take the hat off his head to show some respect for the creature). But back to my story, so when my first boyfriend a very interesting Freudian analyst called Richard and I walked in the gardens we used to see this tortoise, living in a small place, enclosed by a white picket fence. The tortoise would come up to meet us as though he wanted his neck to be scratched. The point I want to make about this story, is the point of connections. Charles Darwin and the Galapagos Islands, and other points of connection abound in this story which I will not reveal to you yet. In due course it was revealed to me that the tortoise had about 6 different names, so that made me suddenly, in the strange way that our minds work, I thought of Picasso and Gertrude Stein's famous remark of the 20th century, that "a rose is a rose is a rose." And what I love about my own story is that the connections lead you into all of those fascinating places if you are up to it. And then I couldn't stop, so I said, 'A beautiful rose by any other name is just as sweet'.
These connections are all my own - at a matinee performance in the then Rhodesia, we were preparing to go on stage and Madame Bodenwieser came into our dressing room saying, "Frau Gerty is in the madhouse again!" - she said that because we always made such noise in the dressing room. It was always the same routine, Jean had to snatch her makeup form the chair right next to her, before madam seated herself on it. What she had really come to say, was that there was one man and his little boy in the audience and no one else."You girls" she said, "must give your very best performance today, you have an illustrious audience." so we did.
There was the one man with his little boy sitting in the front row and we did indeed give our best.
And last month I had 9.5 million people viewing my work. 'A Buddha's wife' online, that DOES makes you think doesn't it!
Now, of course I have a new group of dancers to help me do my work in Australia.
In the Sydney season, I was fortunate enough to have Sue Healey as the Buddha Self, (we are all supposed to have a Buddha Self, which would calm the troubled world), in the opening scene. She stands alone in the desert, listening to the faint strains of a desert caravan arriving with the princess BulBul, on her way to the palace of Prince Siddhartha. They were happily married for many years and then the princess was grief-stricken when he left the palace, his home and family, in order to go and find out the reason for all the pain in the world. He wasn't just a dilettante, to find enlightenment, he had a reason for doing it.
Scientists tell us we are all made of the same stuff as the stars - thats the truth, you cannot deny it. in fact we are only half human, the other half is a strange body of microbes that live in our gut, and, surprise, surprise, control a lot of our actions. That is a bit hard to take isn't it? This gives me a new thought, if at times I wish to say, 'Oh aren't I great, I did that well ,I need not say to myself don't be so conceited, for the human part of me didn't do it. It was those guys that live in my gut who did it. That links me up with something else....you know the character Doc Martin, well he was in another movie in which he was the head of some advertising agency and he had trouble with his wife, so she starts a love affair with the neighbour, then you see him full of resolve coming to stand under her window with 2 musicians and they start to play and he surprisingly, coz we never thought he could sing, sings out loud looking up at her window, "whatever i did, whatever I said, I didn't mean it" Sadly when she hears this she and the neighbour both look down at him impassionately. Isn't wonderful the way the mind jumps from one thing to another.
Now lets get back to the tortoise.
Today is the 19th August. I spent quite a few hours when I should have been asleep, thinking about the new blog I want to write. I am writing it in present tense coz at least half a dozen gurus told me that NOW is the thing.
Well, now, what's the matter with NOW? I really like to think about the past and the future. And anyway who does what gurus tell them to do?
Its funny, although I spent 4 years in India I never met any gurus, they all seem to be making a good living elsewhere.
I like Krishnamurti - in a way he is a guru, and as he pointed out, there's nothing weird or wonderful about gurus, they are just teachers. But I really had a great time in India. Apart from being the dancing girl at the Taj, I was a seeker, seeking for the truth. Krishnamurti said, 'truth is a pathless land'. This brings me right up to NOW. Tracey Spring and I have just finished writing a book. In it I quote Krishnamurti, and each chapter of the book has its own illustration page, not 3 pictures on one page, but the whole page in colour. In one of the illustrations I show two ecstatic looking people, male and female holding hands, standing in a big pathless land. They are free to go anywhere they like, at least they would have been if the world wasn't in chaos.
However Ive got the future to think about - a dance work Im hoping to redo quite soon has already been choreographed and performed in America. It's called Isis and Osiris - (Isis the Goddess not the infamous terrorists).
I like archetypal works. So my dancing life is full of kings and queens and goddesses. But that's not quite true either, one of my favourite works that I did in America is called 'Family Portrait'. It's a family of Pierrot's dressed in the traditional white costumes with big black pompoms. I think I'll do this one again in Australia. It was so traditional, yet so fresh. The dancers threw themselves into it with gusto.
I know Im leading you astray into all sorts of places, but I love making connections.
I've just written a story about a tortoise. In the 1940s this tortoise was the last animal left alive from a little zoo in the NSW Botanical gardens. (Recently Sue and I went to the gardens and found my friend the tortoise on a shelf in the administration building - poor darling, he'd been stuffed with a silly hat put on its head. We have requested that they take the hat off his head to show some respect for the creature). But back to my story, so when my first boyfriend a very interesting Freudian analyst called Richard and I walked in the gardens we used to see this tortoise, living in a small place, enclosed by a white picket fence. The tortoise would come up to meet us as though he wanted his neck to be scratched. The point I want to make about this story, is the point of connections. Charles Darwin and the Galapagos Islands, and other points of connection abound in this story which I will not reveal to you yet. In due course it was revealed to me that the tortoise had about 6 different names, so that made me suddenly, in the strange way that our minds work, I thought of Picasso and Gertrude Stein's famous remark of the 20th century, that "a rose is a rose is a rose." And what I love about my own story is that the connections lead you into all of those fascinating places if you are up to it. And then I couldn't stop, so I said, 'A beautiful rose by any other name is just as sweet'.
These connections are all my own - at a matinee performance in the then Rhodesia, we were preparing to go on stage and Madame Bodenwieser came into our dressing room saying, "Frau Gerty is in the madhouse again!" - she said that because we always made such noise in the dressing room. It was always the same routine, Jean had to snatch her makeup form the chair right next to her, before madam seated herself on it. What she had really come to say, was that there was one man and his little boy in the audience and no one else."You girls" she said, "must give your very best performance today, you have an illustrious audience." so we did.
There was the one man with his little boy sitting in the front row and we did indeed give our best.
And last month I had 9.5 million people viewing my work. 'A Buddha's wife' online, that DOES makes you think doesn't it!
Now, of course I have a new group of dancers to help me do my work in Australia.
In the Sydney season, I was fortunate enough to have Sue Healey as the Buddha Self, (we are all supposed to have a Buddha Self, which would calm the troubled world), in the opening scene. She stands alone in the desert, listening to the faint strains of a desert caravan arriving with the princess BulBul, on her way to the palace of Prince Siddhartha. They were happily married for many years and then the princess was grief-stricken when he left the palace, his home and family, in order to go and find out the reason for all the pain in the world. He wasn't just a dilettante, to find enlightenment, he had a reason for doing it.
Scientists tell us we are all made of the same stuff as the stars - thats the truth, you cannot deny it. in fact we are only half human, the other half is a strange body of microbes that live in our gut, and, surprise, surprise, control a lot of our actions. That is a bit hard to take isn't it? This gives me a new thought, if at times I wish to say, 'Oh aren't I great, I did that well ,I need not say to myself don't be so conceited, for the human part of me didn't do it. It was those guys that live in my gut who did it. That links me up with something else....you know the character Doc Martin, well he was in another movie in which he was the head of some advertising agency and he had trouble with his wife, so she starts a love affair with the neighbour, then you see him full of resolve coming to stand under her window with 2 musicians and they start to play and he surprisingly, coz we never thought he could sing, sings out loud looking up at her window, "whatever i did, whatever I said, I didn't mean it" Sadly when she hears this she and the neighbour both look down at him impassionately. Isn't wonderful the way the mind jumps from one thing to another.
Now lets get back to the tortoise.
21st August 2018
Sue’s husband is a scientist. He gave me a wonderful word – singularity – which has something to do with black holes and time and space melting into one. The black hole is shaped like an icecream cone - if you go into it, that’s it, you never get out again. You spend the rest of your life right down at the very bottom of it all, lost in time and space.
Richard has just sent me a message and said, “Tell Eileen to write something about the black hole and buttons”. And buttons? That reminds me of something else...
I was telling my friend Tracey one day about a young man named David Seddon, who was in a play that I saw. I told Tracey, I’ve never forgotten his great line he had to say in the play. And Tracey said “What was it?” And I said “well I can’t remember why he said it, but the great line was “velvet paws, velvet paws”. So whenever I tell the story I have to try to look wise and mysterious and leave my listeners longing to hear what the velvet paws had to do with anything. This has nothing to do with singularity as far as I now, nor with buttons. I can’t imagine why an eminent scientist would want me to write about buttons.
And sue, can’t enlighten me, she’s paying me back for the velvet paws.
I’ve just remembered something, after Doc Marten sings that song in the next scene you see him going to the staff psychologist and he tells her all his troubles and what does she say?
She says “Oh you poor sausage’. That’s all.
To get back to the buttons, I think Richard was psychic - the psychic scientist because I’ve recently got this new stylish dress with tiny little buttons all down the front of the bodice and when you put it on, you do up the buttons carefully and then you go downstairs to meet people and you have no idea that all those buttonholes were too loose and they have all come undone. You are there talking about the weather, with the whole of your underwear, exposed to public view because the buttons have leapt out of their button holes. So Richard, enough said about buttons.
Here is a link to a BBC radio programme about Eileen. It is a must hear!
https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0005msv
https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0005msv
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16th August 2019 - THE COAT
Quite an odd thing happened to me the other day - from somewhere in the past, there emerged the Coat. And I am not sure which end of the story I should start with – but I have to start somewhere…so I’ll start with Madam. That is Madam Bodenwieser – she introduced modern dance 1930s style to Australia and I was lucky enough to be a part of her company. We eventually started going on tours around Australia, to both hot and cold parts – by this time I had become the costume designer with the Bodenwieser Ballet because, although Madam Tchinarova, mother of Tamara Tchinarova, the beautiful classical dancer, made most of the ballet costumes in Sydney at that time, she didn’t really understand central European expressionism – which was quite a different style. But that is not the point. Madam Tchinarova didn’t have anything to do with the Coat. It happened on one very cold tour my friend Jean Raymond and I felt that Madam wasn’t warm enough – so Jean said to me “Let’s get her a nice warm coat”. So, Jean paid for the material and I made it. Madam would wear it after our concerts. She would always come on stage after our concert, fluttering to the edge and speak to the audience, “We are so happy to have been able to come to your lovely town of Tumblegum”, or where ever we were. We always waited with baited breath – would she remember the name of the town? Because we came in like a whirlwind- we would have one short rehearsal and perform that night, next morning all sleepy and slothful we would get out of beds and into a bus - off to the next town – we hardly knew where we were. We were always very happy to see Madam in the coat. Well the years passed. I didn’t know what happened to the coat but surprise surprise I went to Canberra to see an exhibition called Eternity, and there was the coat on a stand looking very splendid. Unfortunately, to my horror, it was inside out! I went home to the hotel, got paper and pen and wrote a stern letter and indignant letter to whoever had put this coat on display, inside out. |
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Now I will describe the coat.
It was a black woollen coat lined with gold tissue. The curators of the exhibition must have thought that it was a gold coat lined with black wool. But in this case – if you imagine you had a tailored jacket and you turned it inside out it would be all bulky under the arms especially. So it looked bulky and uncomfortable. Time passed again – I had a letter from a friend in the University in Canberra and she said Eileen, we will never be able to turn that coat back the right way because somebody has cut away the black material all around under the arms and it looks terrible - so the gold side must stay out. More time passed…one day quite recently, the story of the coat was resurrected. Dr Rachel Fensham a highly regarded academic from the University of Melbourne had thought that was an interesting coat - so she began to research it. Rachel made a special trip to Sydney to interview me, so we sat and talked about it. Then she went back to Canberra and took another look at the dejected inside out coat and she decided that she liked the strange lumpy look. She saw it quite differently to how I had imagined it. She saw it as a stiff unyielding garment with hand-stitching which she took to be decorative detail. So I am going to make a drawing of that coat to show you what I mean. Rachel, sainted lady, wrote the longest article I’d ever seen about a coat… for a very distinguished international journal. The title is ‘Costumes and Choreography from Bodenwieser’s Trunk: The Coat as Affective Memory’. There began a long discussion in Canberra about my little old coat. Not just a discussion, but there were different points of view about whether the lining was black or gold and whether it was shown the right or the wrong way. Not only that, mind you, scientific study was made of the threads of the fabric as to whether that lining had once been a Swinging Bell costume – the Swinging Bell was a very wonderful dance created in Vienna by Madam, for two dancers. When performed in Australia the dancers were Evelyn Ippen and Bettine Brown. The fabric, heavy bronze lame, was very long and spread out all around the dancers who gave the impression of moving like a chiming bell shuddering in its last few chimes. The discussion was had that I might have used the old Swinging Bell costume as the lining of the coat – but I could never imagine myself cutting up an old costume, which was a big round heavy garment, cut on the cross. But I could not argue the point because I coudn’t really remember going into the silk store on Pitt St. and buying that fabric 70 years ago. So I would not argue with those much more learned than I. So Rachel and I had a nice cup of tea, I gave her the lowdown on Madam’s coat and a long discussion about where it was all these long years… Jean Raymond who paid for the fabric, unfortunately is no longer with us. So the result is – nobody really knows the true history of the coat. And that same Eileen Kramer has after 70 years just returned to Australia - what does she care about coats and things? All she wanted when she came back, was to hear a kookaburra. But because dancing was still in her blood, she began a new old life as a Bodenwieser dancer at the age of 99. And believe it or not, she is about to make another coat! |
22 August 2019.