It’s been a while since I’ve written anything here: words and the space to write them have been scarce. I guess I’ve also lost a bit of confidence in my ability to write something that might engage.
I’d meant to write something for a friend’s blog: www.thisfragiletent.com gathered artists and creatives to do a series throughout Advent. I began to write some notes and then it struck me that I’m neither an artist or a creative and I reckoned I had little chance of matching either the quality or the seriousness of the rest of the contributors.
It’s not Advent any more, but we are still within the twelve days of Christmas, so this is along the lines of what I could have said:-
For many years now, I’ve been cast in our village pantomime. Consequently Advent has involved rehearsing twice a week to get ready for the January performances. It is always challenging fitting in the time to rehearse and to learn lines, but always worthwhile.
I’m an enthusiastic amateur, with the amateurishness usually outstripping any real ability, however, after many years trying, I have more awareness of what I’m doing and am becoming more attuned to the audience. This comes from being part of a ‘community of practice’: directors, scenery painters, ticket sellers, choreographers, other actors- who will quickly tell you if the ideas that you thought would work actually do work.
This is a mix of the affirming and the humbling. Sometimes it is difficult to take as none of us are either as bad or as good as we think we are.
People tend to think community is a good thing: it is and there are so many good and lovely things about being part of something like this, but it can also be bloody- there are rows, sometimes sundered relationships and people leave. Every community of every type I’ve been part of has been like that, but I believe at the same time we only truly know ourselves within community.
As I’ve been thinking about this this Advent; I’ve thought of the faith communities I’ve been part of that have helped me grow and maintain belief. I’ve reflected on the fact that my current experience of faith communities is not as strong as it once was: I don’t have the time (or make time) and my tolerance for bullsh*t is lower than it has ever been. I’ve wondered if 2025 might be different.
One of the other things I like about amateur pantomime is that whilst the participants might get a lot out of it, for it to be ‘good’, everything has to be outward focussed. Whilst the community of a dramatic society, like any other community, might enjoy each other and the warmth that ensues from that, to focus just on that misses the point of why we are there. Likewise, missed and muffed lines – and there are many- have to somehow be turned outwards so that those who are watching either don’t notice or laugh along. In jokes don’t work; however comforting it might be to use them.
I’ve often been fortunate to be cast in ‘Dame’ type roles – see the picture-where part of those roles is to break down the ‘fourth wall’ and help the audience engage with what is going on. That experience has been really useful in everything else I’ve done in life; in different contexts I’ve increasingly found myself thinking who are our intended audience, will they ‘get’ what we are trying to say and to be? In the area of faith, it has given me less tolerance for- pardon the phrase- ‘theological masturbation’: endless attempts to define faith that have the danger of being self-pleasuring, inward looking and ultimately help no one.
Of course, pantomime is ritualised, has lame jokes, is awash with double entendres and is often bawdy and irreverent: it is not serious. I’ve always found the juxtaposition of this with preparing for Advent really helpful as a corrective against being po faced; even if you are tacking great and serious themes, a dry & humourless approach tends to ensure that most people don’t listen or engage. I’ve never found taking yourself too seriously and avoiding situations where you might make mistakes to be good for living life to the full.
Anyhow, this coming week, I’ll be attempting to get my nearly 59 year old and tired brain to remember lines, song words, stage positioning, costume changes and working out how to wring every last double entendre out of even the most innocent line.
…O no you won’t…
Wearily Hopeful 