I don’t mean in the profession, of course not; kick a stone and myriads of performers come out swarming, that’s for sure! I mean in the practice room.
Right now I’m practising in a duo, a trio and by myself. But I don’t mean the colleagues I’m collaborating with either (members all of us of the swarm-under-the-stone). That wouldn’t be a realisation, I knew they were in the practice room from the start, I’m not that far gone.
The surprise comes when I’m practising alone and, all of a sudden, I spot somebody else. It’s not just anybody, it’s always somebody. Somebody in my life, past or present: the man I fancy at that moment in time, my teachers, my mum, that person I admire and whom I’d like to work with… even my therapist has dropped in to see me once or twice.
There isn’t a pattern as to when they appear. Sometimes it’s when I think I’m doing something fantastic. Sometimes it’s when I think that what I’m doing is crap. Sometimes it depends on what I’m doing. When there’s sexual content – no, not the man I fancy at that moment in time – yes, you got it, the unexpected guest tends to be my mum…
The good thing about my teachers coming in to see me practise is that they say again what they said so many times, and it’s still useful. For example, “include what is happening”. Yes, this is an all-time favourite. Repeated like a mantra by Gabriel Chamé. Now Sten Rudstrom has taken the baton.
So today, when I discovered that I wasn’t alone (I won’t tell you who’d popped in this afternoon), I realised that, so far, ignoring them hasn’t proved that useful in showing them the door until now. Maybe they deserved their space, just like all the jumble of things that was making its way out of me. So… thanks very much for coming. Please, let’s welcome… No, of course I’m not going to say it, there are limits to every confession!