Hannah Nicklin

My Dad and Stories

Verbatim, straight from the transcription of the conversation I had with my father for the scratch performance of the same name I’m working up this weekend and 2 days next week for the Little Festival of Everything. Slightly more info on this previous blog post.

“But otherwise I think the only way that you can have a big impact if by changing people’s views, by actually getting hold of their heart and squeezing it and saying; look at this. And I think as you say, it’s having the story that triggers the emotion in the individual, which then says ‘yeah, that’s not right, we need to change this’. Because you won’t get, there’s too many pressures on people, and I think this is where capitalism wins through most of the time; there’s too many pressures on people to stand out, to stand up, to say ‘no’, and I think by doing what you’re doing in terms of the stories, you know okay you can only get some people but that can make a big difference, than, you know, you as an individual amongst 200-300,000 people making a lot of noise down the street.”

Other Projects

Deep in the middle of Umbrella Project goings on at the moment (small reflections and links to follow) but just wanted to post about a couple of very exciting things I’m doing (almost straight) after (gulp).

The first is my first more traditional performance piece in a good few years. A small work in progress for an audience of 8-10 (due to venue size, I’m sure it will scale eventually) at the Flanagan Collective’s ‘Little Festival of Everything’. #Littlefest (all donation based ticketing) will be taking over the Fauconberg Arms in Coxwold, North Yorks, and a lot of the villagers’ homes, too, and filling the pub and surrounds with around 100 pieces of art&performance. Ace. I’ll be joining people like Rash Dash, Belt Up, Pilot, Chris Thorpe and loads others to present a piece I’ll be working in for about 4 days prior. A Conversation with my Father.

Here’s the copy (I suck at copy)

An early work in progress born out of a conversation between an ex-policeman and his protestor daughter. A conversation about fear, grey areas, them and us, duty, and standing up to protect what you think matters. An intimate piece for a small audience at a very early stage of development, please come, watch, and offer feedback.

It’s on 6 times over 2 days, and will probably involve video or projection of some kind. Maybe just sound. I’m not sure. I’m filming a conversation with my father on the 7^th, and basically working something up from there. Hopefully it’s going to be pretty interesting, and is kind of addressed at both sides of the fence, protestors and non protesting public/police officers. More of a question about the fence in the first place, really. WATCH THIS SPACE. And come to Yorkshire for the weekend to see it.

The other super exciting and slightly unnerving (that’s how I like my life) thing I’m doing is a collaboration with the BRILLIANT Nikki Pugh. Who is the person who’s going to teach me to hack and solder properly. One of these days. You may or may not have noted that we’ve been working on a Splacist manifesto – well MADE have invited Nikki to lead (I think I’m helping) a workshop on the manifesto, and commissioned us both to work on our first practice-as-response to it, which is free to come and see/do (though ticketed, head here for more info)

Copy wot I did not write, and is therefore far superior:

Who are the Splacists? Will introduce the context for, and development of, the Splacist manifesto as well as reporting findings from the What are the Splacists? activities conducted earlier in the day. There will also be an opportunity to experience work developed in collaboration between artists Nikki Pugh and Hannah Nicklin. This work has been commissioned by MADE as part of Learning Spaces Living Places 2 and represents the first in direct response to the manifesto. The evening event is your chance to experience it first-hand and be a part of it.

Splacism is a contemporary mode of practice proposed by Paul Conneally. A new set of ideologies defined by Hannah Nicklin and Nikki Pugh. A hop, skip and a jump away from phsychogeography and the works of the situationist international. Think space, place and splice. Developed empirically by whoever’s interested.

Both really exciting things to lead up to Christmas, which I fear may have to be the point at which things settle down a bit and I spend 7 months or so actually finishing my PhD. Hm.

Long time, no blog

I’m just trying to catch up with telling you a few things before a BIG ANNOUNCEMENT on Friday. Full of the stuff you probably already know about, anyway, but in a proper and official ‘this is happening soon’ blog post. So, in advance of that, here’s some stuff that’s already happening that you might want to look at. First post: Edgelands. I gave a bit of a summary about how I thought it went in this blog post, but now all of the videos are up (though shamefully not subtitled yet, if anyone wants to help) I thought you might like to take a look.

First up, a 7 minute taster of the WHOLE DAY

And for the more dedicated or mix&match viewer, a playlist of videos of each provocateur:

At Home

August 2004

The Tl;dr version of this post is this link. But please do just read it.

Edinburgh is a fucking beautiful place. Despite my inner-midlander that wept at the sight of every incline, I felt remarkably at home there.

Feeling at home is something it’s been hard to cultivate since turning 18, really. I’ve lived in 14 different houses in the 8 years since I made my first home away from home. In a tent. In the Ardeche region of France. It became home when I tied several old crates together on their side and built a makeshift bookcase. That and the Marmite my mum sent in shoebox-wrapped packages.

My books used to mean home for me, but my relationship to my books has changed since they became part of my living (PhD), and now the familiar wallpaper of my desktop feels like home. The small idiosyncrasies I’ve set up as short cuts, the things I keep on each ‘space’, right hand top for emails, bottom right for calendar, top left for internet, bottom left the exotic realms of ‘miscellaneous’.

Home is always when me, my brother and our mum find ourselves together. Home is Christmas-time jokes about stockings that still appear (but this time before we get up, not after we go to bed, which tends to be via the local pub these xmas eves). Home is the slightly stilted conversation of more extended family trying not to bring up global warming or gender equality in our company.

Home has also been mashed potato and toad-in-the-hole. The smell of Jean Paul-Gautier on someone’s neck. Smokey hair. The very slightly different texture of a tattoo shaped like a star.

Home is Big Skies. Lincolnshire sausages. And horizons that go on forever.

Edinburgh is a fucking beautiful place. I felt remarkably at home there. Despite the hills.

And that, of course, has a lot to do with the people. The wonderful amazing constantly confounding people that make up my small corner of the theatre industry. But it also has a lot to do with a place. A single place that while I was there was like an oasis. The Forest Cafe. Continue reading…