OK, so the week is over and this epic project I've been doing is also sadly over. Zoë Josephine Payne and I worked hard to create the Wing-Shop Work-Shop at Redbridge Drama Centre as part of Nigel and Louise's Festival of Adventure. We were one of several performances for 9 - 11 year olds from schools in the local area. The other installations included flying babies, Ingrid Bergman being cutting with a hack saw from the screen of Casablanca and a bus created entirely from words, to tremendous affect.
The show culminates in a speak-easy which is then raided by the 'Art Police,' one of whom is a man dressed as a police hound. As such, these photos seem to be from all over the place, but they are in fact, just from this one performance.
Instead of The Sacred Sunday Extracts, I thought I would link them by comments made by the children who took part in our workshop to, in seven minutes, create their very own 'wings' for their feet. Some are unexpected, some are profound - all are hilarious. Thanks to everyone involved!
ME: 'So now we're going to create our very own wings in order to help our feet to fly.'
10-YEAR-OLD-WITH-FOLDED-ARMS: 'Real flying or imaginary flying?'
ZOE: 'So now we're going to create our very own wings in order to help our feet to fly.'
CURIOUSLY-SPIRITUAL-INDIAN-GIRL: 'But how do we fly without the wind?'
SEER GIRL [NOW CUTTING OUT WINGS]: 'They are like the wings of the Divas. They are very beautiful.'
TWO BOYS ARE FITTING THEIR 'WINGS' INTO THE BACK OF THEIR TRAINERS.
BOY 1: 'These are cool - they're like fashion.'
BOY 2: 'Fashion first!!'
ME: 'Has anyone here ever flown before?'
BOY-WHO-WILL-GROW-UP-TO-BE-A-COMEDIAN: 'Yeah! I jumped off my bunk bed and flew down and cracked my head open and died and went down to Hell!'
COMEDIAN BOY [PAUSES, THEN WAVES ARMS DISMISSIVELY]: 'Nah, not really.'
ALL CHILDREN ARE CUTTING OUT WINGS.
PRECOCIOUS BOY: 'We're going to be like Hermes in his wings except when we take off we're all going to fall down and die.'
ME: 'No, you're not going to die - you're going to fly!'
PB: 'Nah - it's going to be like in Final Destination.'
ME: 'Final Destination? How old are you?'
PB [PROUDLY, AT SPEED]: 'Eleven-I'm-the-oldest-in-my-class.'
SMALL-QUIET-BOY-CUTTING-OUT-NEXT-TO-PB: 'I'm thirty-four.'
STRANGELY NERDY KID ENTERING WORKSHOP: 'That party was SICK - they had lemonade!'