Monthly Archives: March 2013

Youth and Young Ladyhood

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Ciao, Bella!

If this blog was a friend it’d be an absolute tool for being out of touch for so long, like one of them girls that gets a new boyfriend and stops answering your calls. I can only apologise, and assure you that I haven’t been on a mini break to the Cotswolds or summink, just frantically getting on with the admin of life – working, earning, plotting, eating, sleeping, talking to people I love and who love me. Fabric of life kind of stuff.

I could do a retrospective blog of things I’ve done, but that’s not me, really – I like anticipation, challenges, what I’m going to do… so let’s talk about SPILL!

Listen to this song, while I chat on at you:

spiller

 

“But you already did Spill! Shut up and move on” I hear you cry… not so my droogs, from National Platform in Ipswich (city of dreams) to National Showcase in London (city of destiny.. hah!), with buckets of support from LADA and all manner of magic in the form of mentorship from Bobby Baker.

So first, admin. Saturday 13th April from 11am till 6pm. Me and Jess Paetz, in the National Theatre Studio, doing Pat it and Prick it and Mark it with ‘B’. The premise is simple –

The provocation for this piece was a statement made by Selina’s mother that eating, for her, was like a prison. That didn’t seem quite right, so Selina is going to make a dress. She is going to make that dress out of cake. She couldn’t do it alone, so she brought her best mate, Jess. If you like, you’re welcome to come and eat some cake. Jess says not too much though, or she’ll have nothing to wear. You are free to come and go as you wish.

Selina Thompson is a Leeds based artist who uses autobiographical stimuli to make performance and installations that are focused around the prospect of change. Her work focuses on creating a space for dialogue, she likes to think that it’s hopeful.

And you should come, put simply. Loads of Cake. A series of hair brained schemes. High heeled shoes and things that sparkle, and music from the nineties. A spectacle of waste, a bizarre, almost jarring combination of statement and action. A sweet, frothy prison, cheerfully built, by two best friends, and anyone else that fancies it. What’s not to love?