20.16 Blog #5: Trailers & Trigger Warnings

Trailers and Trigger Warnings

The trailer for Hail Caesar looked ace. It still looks ace. An all-star mega mystery and a cartoony noir thriller wrapped in a nostalgic retooled package of a bygone era.

But I wanted to like the film more. I wanted to love it. I wanted it to be my top film of the year. But aside from the subplots which never quite got tied together, I felt like it wasn’t funny enough. And yet the trailer had been so quirky?

The answer, I believe, was all the punchlines were in the trailer. Whenever a scene came up, I knew the gag that was coming. When two characters met, I could predict how the scene would end up. The worse was the big punchline at the very end of the film, where Cloony’s Whitlock fluffed his line. The note that ends the film totally given away in the trailer.

The answer, kids? Don’t watch trailers! It’s quite simple, I suppose, but I don’t think I’d have gone to see Hail Caesar without a engrossing trailer, so I suppose that’s the price you pay for being hooked in. You take the bait, but you might end up on a platter. Or something.

Of course, I have watched the Captain America: Civil War trailer a good number of times. I’m pretty confident between this, a deep knowledge of the comics and a basic knowledge of how action films work, I can predict the entire film. I’m still gonna see it, I have a fraught relationship with super-hero films, and I’m hoping Civil War can heal the wound as it rips apart the universe.

There is a certain level of expectation with super-hero films. If it’s the first movie, we get an origin story, we get a baddie and we get a showdown at the end. There’s usually a bigger villain hiding behind who we presume to be the baddie. Heroes will put aside their differences; anti-heroes will come good in the end. They might throw a curveball with a death or two, but just like a top secret underground lab-lair, there’s a formula.

Recently I’ve been thinking about the criticism of Trigger Warnings that pop up often online, in articles and general conversation. I have a huge amount of support for them, and I dislike the utter unnecessary contempt some people seem to have for Trigger Warnings, and the frank and casual dismissivness that comes with that criticism.

Trigger Warnings appear before something which is potentially upsetting, shocking or hurtful to someone whose mental state can’t quite handle that specific topic at that moment in time.

Now, I’m not here to entirely argue the ins and outs of them in academia, or social media or other circles. I get the criticisms, I don’t think they’re a perfect failsafe and I do prefer the term ‘content note’. But they do need to be employed.

This next ramble is looking at TWs from a live arts perspective.

A reviewer once said, regarding Spoilers, if you say “a character, whom we the audience presume to be the protagonist’s brother…” then you’re essentially giving away a plot point that they ain’t gonna be the brother. If you say before a poem, this is about X, then you’re giving away the emotional impact of any reveal that comes within the poem, it removes the subtext, it removes the open interpretation, and it can also totally dilute a piece to one singular topic. Like seeing Hail Caesar with the trailer in mind, it loses its weight as a piece.

Poetry nights are like going to see Captain America: Civil War. You can expect and predict there’ll be rude poems, funny poems and silly poems. They’ll also be deeply personal poems, political poems and poems that can be challenging in their subject matter and their content.

Poetry (and theatre/music/dance) is there to make you feel emotions, to take you to different places, explore themes, dissect, dissect and digest ideas. Arguably, if a poem has affected you, that’s a good thing. One would assume going to listen to poetry is an exercise in looking to be moved, inspired, challenged and affected.

But, as I say, I am in favour of Trigger Warnings because if you have hideous experiences, you should be able to confront them on your own terms, not the terms of a person on a microphone. This isn’t about wrapping people in cotton wool, it’s about accepting the world is violent and damaging to certain people of society, and part of the fight against the cause of this damage is also about dealing with the fallout. Fight war, not wars, and heal the wounds they cause.

So should poetry come with Trigger Warnings? I have taken to giving a blanket Trigger Warning at the very start of the night when I’m compering. Reminding the audience that anything could be said, and poetry can go to some troubling topics.

But I’ve seen TWs handled the wrong way at poetry night. You cannot ask your audience if anyone would prefer if you didn’t read your poem. “This poem is about rape, is that Ok to read?” I can’t imagine anybody who would find this topic upsetting piping up and putting themselves on the spot. Similarly, depending on the space and how quickly the poet leaps into the poem, it’s difficult actively stand up and leave in time.
It also leads to everyone questioning their content. Suicide is a particularly triggering topic. Is death? Death is a staple poetry topic. LBGTQ+ people might be going through a hard time with their family. Should a poem that references parents come with a TW? Where do you draw the line?

We’re all still learning. I’m up for any conversations, thoughts or suggestions for this topic.

Riot Nrrrd Tour podcast

Riot Nrrrd Tour Podcast

In March 2015, two nerdy poets set forth unto the world to bring hope, spoken word and angry feminism to the ears of budding audiences.

Henry Raby is based in York, Jenn Hart is based in Bristol. They both like punk, nerdiness, politics, feminism and saying poems about these topics in front of audiences.

Henry Raby & Jenn Hart would like to thank all the promoters, audiences and supporters and copius amount of coffee and cartoons which all made this tour possible.

DIY or Die!

The Riot Nrrrd Tour consisted of:
15th March: Nerd Hutch, Newcastle
16th March: Verbal Remedies, Leeds
17th March: Empty Shop, Durham
18th March: Poems, Pints & Prose, Harrogate
19th March: Away With Words, Hull
20th March: The Forest Café, Edinburgh. No record of this show was made, due to the over exhaustion of falafel, queer disco and evening shenanigans but thanks to Raph for the gig x
21st March: Tchai Ovna, Glasgow
22nd March: Say Owt Slam, York

CLICK TO LISTEN HERE!

20.16 Blog #4: Hashtag Kafka

Hashtag Kafka

On Thursday I popped over to Hull to see Hull truck Youth Theatre perform two of my plays, one first commissioned by York Theatre Royal called The Circle of Chalk, inspired by the classic Chinese tale with a smattering of Brecht.  The second was an entirely new play, The Castle, adapted from Kafka’s unfinished tale of a man, K (who shares the same name as the protagonist of one of Kafka’s more famous novels, The Trial).  Both were directed by Tom Bellerby, and both were fantastic productions. 

The Circle of Chalk employed a huge range of music to weave the story.  Not just a few musical interludes, but a really effective backdrop of folk sounds to drive the tale along.  Brilliant committment to the story-telling, drawing us into their world balanced on a knife-edge. Watching it back, there’s a lot of ideas peppered throughout the play.  Family, duty, country, fascism, home, identity and race constantly crop up, and I hope the play tries to explore what displacement means, and how governments react to displaced people with racism and walls.

The Castle was a different beast in the sense it had one driving theme throughout, the ineffectiveness in the face of a sheer power.  Within that, there’s the destabilisation of relationships, the abuse of power, the reliance on contacts and pressures of business and ambition.  But the base idea is that our protagonist, K The Land Surveyor, is desperately trying to find work but caught in a bureaucratic nightmare and told if he isn’t work, he is worthless.

This is the same message young people across the country and being told, as their support networks have been, and are being, slashed.  Removing EMA and student grants limit their access to education.  Removing housing benefit, and the stigma of not being able to ‘make someone of one’s self.’

I’m very proud of the final script.  The cast brought out eccentric and unstable characters full of mischief and malevolence.  The atmosphere was gripping and haunting.  Kafka has a certain level of grim humour which I toyed and recreated for the stage.  But in Kafka’s novels, characters are trapped, cursed, doomed and never make the right decisions.  And all other characters are seen through the tinted eyes of the protagonist.  In our version, we tried to show characters actually making good and negative choices.  We showed empathy, sympathy and rejection of these traits.  Because this is an ensemble, and though K is at the very centre, it is a connected web of Villagers and Officials who each have their role in the story.

That is essential in a Youth Theatre play, where every actor needs to feel, and should be, relevant to the story and have a part they can get their teeth into.  Young people deserve quality scripts.  I may not be able to give them security, but I can at least give them a bloody good play to work with.  Thanks to Tom and Hull Truck for having me!

To swerve this somewhat, I tried to change my Twitter handle from HenryRabyPoetry to HenryRaby.  Because as much as poetry is my core skill, I’m also doing more play-wrighting and theatre making.  Alas, HenryRaby is taken.  The account has 0 Tweets.  I can only hope it gets deleted.  It’s a dog-eat-Tweet world out there.

Feels a little Kafka-esque doesn’t it?  This great vast system of Twitter dictating rules and names, and myself, powerless within the loopholes, to make any leeway.  I just have to sit and wait.

This week I also worked with director Natalie Quatermass on a new show about punk and politics.  It’s called Whatever Happened To Vandal Raptor?, and we’re scratching it at Derby Theatre on the 6^th March.  It’s still early days, so I’ll blog about it in detail once we’ve fleshed out more of the show.  But watch this space!

20.16 Blog #3: The Greatest Cartoon Ever

The Greatest Cartoon Ever

Hey.  Get ready to tear me apart.  Get ready to rip me limb-from-limb as I declare a statement that will shock the very foundations of the zeitgeist to it’s core.

Adventure Time is over-rated.

BOOM.  There.  Said.  *drops mic*

*Picks up mic again*

OK, so let me unpack that.  Adventure Time is brilliant.  It’s masterful and funny and full of fantastic characters and story and marvellous inventive.  But it’s everywhere.  It’s on t-shirts and hats and pencil cases and games and I really love it.  I haven’t seen every single episode (there’s a lot) but it’s not struck the chord with me that it has with so many other people, and many of my friends.  I don’t consider it the *fanfare* Greatest cartoon Ever.

So why is it that this cartoon has magically captured children and adults?  And why is it that so many of the queer community love it so much too?

Because to those fans, Adventure Time is the greatest cartoon ever.  Everyone has their favourite songs, poems, stories, films etc.  Adventure Time is dear to many people’s hearts.

Me and my housemate recently watched a few Count Duckulas, which are incredibly pun-heavy surreal nuggets of British eccentricity.  Much more nutty than Dangermouse, with some great set pieces that lead to a zaniness only 80s cartoons could provide.  The puns drove me quackers.

I’ve also been caning a lot inordinate amount of the Batman The Animated Podcast which is a gushing source of fan nostalgia waterfalling from my iPad.  Check it out, I never watched much Batman TAS cos it wasn’t on UK telly as much (Batman Of The Future was though, or Batman ‘Beyond’ to you ‘Americans’), but the Podcast is very funny, well-made and goes into great detail of the show, which I love, cos I love analysing and details (could ya guess?)

Retro cartoons are back, or at the least they have a marketability.  You can slap a 80s or 90s cartoon onto anything and it’ll sell.  But how much do people revisit these cartoons?

You know I love Pokémon.  But I don’t even think the Pokémon cartoon is the best thing in the world EVER.  It holds a heap of nostalgia for me, and I’d watch it gleefully, but that would be rooted in the memory how much it mattered when I was 11.

On the flip side, I devoured Gravity Falls.  Such a well-crafted collection of stories.  Twin peaks meets Hey Arnold.  Not only were the jokes spot-on, but the characters were 3-dimensional (which is ironic considering one was a nightmare 2-D space demon), including strong female characters, gay characters and quite possibly a Trans* character.  I couldn’t watch the finale for fear of it ending, like the apocalypse.  But end it did, and marvellous so.  With salty tears running down my cheeks, as Dipper and Mabel bid farewell to Gravity Falls, and part of their childhood, I too said goodbye to a cartoon which PROVES to me that cartoons are still high quality.

Well, actually, it doesn’t.  Because it’s all subjective.  Just as one person adores Adventure Time for its fresh take on the adventure genre, another person will argue “cartoons aren’t as good as they used to be” while rocking their He-Man t-shirt.

But compare this whole comparison with other genres.  We hold Citizen Kane up to be one of the greatest films of all time, just like we declare Shakespeare, Dickins and Tolstoy to be our greatest writers.  The greatest musicians include Bob Dylan, The Beatles and Presley.  I’m not saying I much rate these assumptions but that is the general structure of our western culture.

But no one really holds up a cartoon as the greatest ever.  Because kids don’t care about that.  They just love sitting after school and watching something silly, exciting and/or funny.  They’ll watch reruns, they’ll watch the latest show, as long as they enjoy it, they enjoy it.  If you enjoy something, you enjoy it.  I’ll analyse it for hours and hours and hours, but at the end of the day you love something because you love it, and the rest is silence.

Oh, and for the record the Greatest Cartoon Ever is Legends Of Treasure Island.  Without doubt.

Goodnight out there, whatever you are….

20.16 Blog #2: Workshops through the looking glass

You stand in front of an audience, one of several poets who have stepped forth during the night.  You may be remembered, you may be forgotten.  If it’s a slam, you might win.  You might be the guest poet, and this is your job.  Better earn that crust.

Sometimes your throw our political, personal or funny poems and in return the audience act as a mirror, they reflect back with laughter, gasps, applause…or even stand up and walk out in disgust.  But sometimes they absorb, they remain still, they listen but they give nothing back.

I have always said, if you want to get better at performance poetry (and performance in general), perform as much as possible.  Gigs, slams, open mics.  Most cities are full of them, my context of York is no exception.  You can perform in front of the mirror as much as you like, it will reflect back your words and your stance and your politics but it won’t absorb like an audience.

But then, when you write, you pour in your thoughts onto your page.  It’s just a transition from thought to screen.  Like the mirror, it’s only reflecting yourself back in ink.

I’m still pondering the workshop from last week.  Not the one I led, the one I took part in led by Sally Jenkinson, our guest poet for Say Owt Slam #8.

The last workshop we held for SOS was way back in March 2015 with Jess Green, though we have always invited our guests to deliver a workshop, though it doesn’t always work for various reasons.

I started thinking about the people who came along to the workshop.  Some people experienced writers, some without much confidence, some totally new to the artform.  Handled marvellously by Sally, it was fun but also very interesting, a very minimal set of exercises leading to interesting results.

It got my reminiscing about previous workshops I’ve attended from poets like Jacob Sam-La Rose, Sophia Walker and Kirsten Luckins.  I travelled down to London for a free workshop with Apples & Snakes, and had mentorship from Hannah Silva when I was part of the Soapbox Tour.  Not to mention the hours and hours of workshops at NAYT’s Raising The Game events for working with young people in theatre.

Workshops allow you to bounce ideas around, to have input different to your normal perception of stimulus and writing, and then have alternate opinions in a room.  Much more productive than relying on an audience who see you as the evening’s entertainment rather than a brain/heart processing art.

When you write, you exist within the bubble of your head, the words and thoughts bouncing around, perhaps assisted by some music (at the moment it’s The Raincoats on my iPod) and interest explorations.  A workshop allows some breath and breadth, to explore someone else’s methods and styles, to get some thoughts from other people.  In Sally’s workshop, we shared our own personal ways and methods of writing, advice and experiences.

And in this way, we do reflect each other.  We bounce ideas off one another, and something surprising and refreshing can emerge. 

The looking glass is a gateway to another world.  But what does it contain?  Yoda states to the hasty Luke when he asks what’s in the Dark Side cave:  "Only what you take with you."

Blog 20.16 #1: Price Of A Pint

Price of a pint

In 2015 I really started to do more gigs.  Probably a bad idea, on a DIY scale of small punk bands, making money is like finding a One Direction fan at a hardcore show.  And if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right so inevitably that means a lot of time promoting via social media, various What’s On and Events pages, making/disturbing posters/flyers, hosting the band before/after and, of course, the gig itself!  (oh yeah, that thing).

But a phrase that gets used a lot is The Price Of A Pint, or even comparing a gig’s ticket to that of a pint.  I recall, many years ago, strongly recommending a piece of theatre to a Theatre Student, saying it was one of the best shows I’d seen for a long time (still is).  I *think* if memory serves the ticket was a special reduced price of £7ish.  The person said “Oh, that’s a bit steep” with a pint in his hands, which as followed by a few more.  The memory that show lives forever, but does the memory of those pints?

Now, I want to do a full blog about alcohol, but for now I want to analyse the value of what gigs and events are worth.

Every music gig I’ve put on, either under the Who Killed Moose banner or just as myself (in-jokingly called Pewter City Promotions) has been a mere £3.  I was pleasantly surprised when I checked out Pint Price to see the average cost of a pint in York is, you guess it, £3!

So, for the cost of a drink which lasts 10-30 mins and makes you mildly tipsy and need the loo, you could see 3-5 bands/acts and help pay for the sound, their travel and their Life.  Obviously, when put in this context of an evening of musical delights, £3 is nothing.  But, bear in mind, I’m a gig promoter.  Of course I’d style it this way.

What else could £3 buy?  A ready meal, a frozen pizza, a packet of crisps and a chocolate bar?

I do believe we need to value our art.  There are dozens, probably several dozens, blogs about paying artists.  Have a Google.  Treat y’sen.

Is £3 too cheap for this evening of entertainment?  If £3 is pretty much nothing, does that mean the gig itself is reductive and as throwaway as a simple pint of Fosters?

There’s an argument to be said that people coming to an event they want to come to would pay whatever, within reason.  £4 maybe?  Does £5 feel too much, as it’s breaking into a note?  Do 50ps come into play?  What is the psychology of gig-going?  Do you work it out how much £1 per band/act?

This is, of course, classist of me.  Some people really can’t afford £3.  £3 is a lot of money.  If it’s the difference between food and a gig, go for the food.  That’s why we keep the price down for punk gigs, because punk should be political and something affordable in a world where cars, shelter and, GODDAMMIT, food are out of reach for people, the least we can do if offer a evening of affordable fun.

Of course, it would be more affordable if we charged £0 entry, or took donations, but touring bands gotta eat too.

Next Moose gig is MOOSEFEST with 10 bands, which will cost you 50p per band.  And you know what?  I’m scared we won’t sell well.  Prove me wrong, reader.  20^th Feb, Fulford Arms, doors 1pm.

In terms of Say Owt Slam, there’s a wider context to poetry nights in York, namely when we started there were 3, and 2 were free and 1 cost a mere £1.  Now, it’s inflated to £2.

But an £1 isn’t all that much to pay for the individual.  After all, it’s 2/3s of a pint!  But the promoter doubles his takings, and have twice as much to book other poets, or to keep for his time running the gig.

So we’ve put Say Owt Slam at £7 (£6 winter price).  This feels a lot.  I’ll hold my hand up, I wish we didn’t.  But all in all, when the guest poet has been paid (their rightful due) and the venue and advertisement costs are covered, we’re left with a small pot of money.  We give the winning poet £45.  This is totally fair.  Not only does it create some helpful incentive for entry, it also shows that the money YOU pay on the door helps a poet.

Finally, Fleeting Quiz has been one of the funnest experiences I’ve had for a long time with my mates Ben and John. My co-quiz-conspirator Ben makes sketches and t’other one John sings songs.  So to find something for us all to do as makes that is creative and not a board game is immeasurably rewarding.  But we charged £1 per person.  Seemed fair, it’s just a little fun quiz.  But now we’ve increased to £1.50.  Partly because we now have more venue costs, but also because we’ve got bloody good at it.  And people have enjoyed it.  We genuinely believe, when you come to a Fleeting Quiz, you’re not just paying to answer nerdy questions.  It’s a really entertaining evening.  Bad Kazoo Round speaks for itself.

But that’s the power of numbers.  When you get enough people together, even if they’re simply chipping in £1-3 of their money, or forking out £7, all together they are able to influence and affect how artists, sound engineers, promoters and venues get paid.  This is why corporations are so powerful, because like a river we pour into them our money and resources.  Individually, £1 might not buy much, but when 80 people pay £1 they make a pot of money for prizes, pay venue costs and have a little bit left over for the folks who spend hours (no exaggeration) on Wikipedia drawing up questions on fantasy books and films.  It’s what Tolkien would have wanted.  A LOTR-referencing Labour-movement analogy.

But let’s not forget loyalty is so important.  As much as the art has a value, there is a value in loyalty that audiences come and give, so ta x

Oh, but my next gig I might have to charge £4.  It’s a band from That There London!

Generic End Of Year Review Blog

It’s time for my annual 2015 round-up of all The Things I Did.

I spent the last few days of this year praying that the Ouse defences would hold and leave my house high and dry, so far, so good.

My intention for this year was to write more blogs, not necessarily from a journalistic or literary perspective, but to keep my fingers typing away.  Type type.  Click. 

But I always assumed I’d never have the time to write a ‘proper’ blog.  Too busy being busy. So I decided to limit my writing to 20 minutes and 15 seconds.  20.15.  Geddit?

Dance Like Nobody’s Blogging

Don’t Judge Me

We Don’t Do This To Win (but we still won)

Riot Nerrrd Tour

Patchwork People

Delayed Response to the General Election

Adapt to Survive

Ambition (or:  Lex Luthor is Bad)

Edinburgh:  The Story of Edinburgh 2015

The Best Beards In The [B]oetry Business

Be Chronos:  Workshop planning & delivery

Public Address Tour

Spectre Didn’t Have a Ghost of a chance

GreedCreep

Who Killed Blogging Moose?

So some other highlights:

I was the Community Artist for Selby’s On Our Turf Project culminating in a performance in Selby Abbey, a very unique situation and performance.  I learned a lot about Selby, I chatted to its locals and hopefully produced a evening celebrating Selby’s unique history.

I went on tour with JENN HART who is super awesome and super cool.  I documented this in my blog here and am working on a podcast of all the interviews we did along with the way, but looking back I am still amazed it all came together, and we did it without a car!  I am keen to get touring once more, and might put a week aside in 2016 to give it another go.

I went to EdFringe, again, documented here.  Still need that photo of the human pyramid!

Gigged with Apples & Snakes' Public Address tour and met loads of ace new poets!

I wrote a load of plays for Youth Theatres, including Who Shot The Sherriff? for Harrogate Youth Theatre’s summer show (an adaptation of the Robin Hood story, but for the characters as teens) and The Hunt for Hull truck Youth Theatre.  I worked on a Play In A Week for York Theatre Royal and Hannah Bruce & Co, and I also got to do more freelance work across Yorkshire, and will be working with Harrogate YT leading a play-wrighting group.

2016?  Well, we have more Say Owt Slams in the pipeline, I wrote an adaptation of The Castle for Hull truck YT which is on in Feb, another Words & Whippets gig planned at York Theatre Royal and I hope to tour more and do EdFringe again!

I can only hope 2015 was good for you, and I wish you all the best in 2016.  Let’s hope it’s peaceful, fruitful and leads to the Grand Revolution toppling the capitalist system so we can build an Anarchist utopia.

In solidarity x

Henry