Floating high in the ionosphere there are balloons with instruments that pick up traces of exploding stars. You cannot travel across the United States, attempting to navigate a way through the territory of creative aging, without continually breathing in the presence of Dr. Gene Cohen. Way back before knowing of this journey, I had dared… Continue reading Dr. Gene Cohen
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Broadcasting
“How are you today?” I am in the American National Bank in Boulder drawing out money. There is music in the background and someone talking on the radio; something familiar about the voice, something familiar about the story: “…making art, the memories bubble up. She took two cone shaped shells and she traced around them… Continue reading Broadcasting
The bus back from Denver
On the bus back from Denver to Boulder Colorado as dusk falls over the distant Rockies, I’m reading Michael Sandel’s ‘Justice’. He quotes Alasdair MacIntyre: ‘We live our lives as narrative quests.’ “I can only answer the question ‘what am I to do?’ if I can answer the prior question ‘Of what story or stories… Continue reading The bus back from Denver
Music and peach cake
I drive back over the Bay Bridge from Oakland to San Francisco from my first visit to Stagebridge nourished by the alchemy of theatre, full of new stories, song and succulent peach cake. A tiny glimpse of a complex body of practice: I sit in on the Word for Word class:" Once upon a sunny morning… Continue reading Music and peach cake
A Grandson named Entelechy
I visited a dance class for seniors in Berkeley this morning. Before class I was chatting to Judy Job and I mentioned that I was the director of an arts company in south London called Entelechy. "Ah", she said, " The actualisation of an idea". She has a grandson named Entelechy. She has danced for… Continue reading A Grandson named Entelechy
The Boyfriend
Dear Sue, Suzanne, Walter, James, Felicia, Sally, Dolly, Here it is! I think we should all congratulate ourselves! Twelve minutes of drama from nothing in 34 minutes. You are all so brilliant at improv. I'm now going to take this back to London and share it with our company there. They may already be catching… Continue reading The Boyfriend
“I feel alive!”
A drumming class at Heritage Park apartments in Anaheim. I join as the session is in full swing. Five women and a man sitting in a circle crashing out rhythm with Robin their teacher. The beat speeds to a crescendo and the group pause. "I feel alive", exclaims the woman sitting next to me. "I'm… Continue reading “I feel alive!”
“But Mum you could be!”
Los Angeles. This crazy sprawl of a city where the art of mindfulness is totally essential for negotiating the freeways. I'm visiting the Burbank Seniors Colony. It's an apartment rental as they say here where the possibility of making art is built into the fabric of the building. There are living spaces and creating spaces:… Continue reading “But Mum you could be!”
Rain
Flying at thirty-six thousand feet over the snow fields of Manitoba Jo Shapcott's words trickle off the page, a fragment from 'Somewhat Unravelled' a poem about her auntie. 'Then she says don't you ever want to go to market and get lost … Continue reading Rain
Starlings
Last week we invited many of the artists who work with the company to the Southbank Centre to have one of those 'clearing in the forest moments' taking a pause to retake our barings. How would you describe the company? Maybe like this. Entelechy is now over 400 people coming together in different groups… Continue reading Starlings
Creativity, Arts and Older People 