Lizzie Wofford

Big Gig

I recently performed in my first West End Theatre.  

When I say recently, I mean, Yesterday…  That was followed by drinks, schmoozing, the last tube home, bed, a frantic morning trying to print out a 4,000 word essay and…  Body conditioning.  All in the space of just under twelve hours.

Chaos.

Although, to be perfectly frank, the stuff after last night has little relevance to my point.  It’s just additional gumpf…  I am a fan of gumpf.

(If you’re unsure of the meaning of the word gumpf, don’t worry. It’s fairly onomatopoeic so forget about analysis and just enjoy the word.)

Back to yesterday.  It was not perhaps the biggest theatre ever but it went on forever and I was taken aback to say the least when I saw how tall it was!  It was mentioned to me that I seemed perplexed.  I agreed.  I said it was because I was perplexed, bemused and a just a bit nervous.

I found myself in a situation of not completely knowing what to do.  I needed grounding and fast.  And then I had a little think and realised that during my research for the aforementioned essay (see - it wasn’t all pointless gumpf) I had found a quote to help me during my time in that theatre.  And, all theatres.

It is as follows:

“In a circle of light on the stage in the midst of darkness, you have the sensation of being entirely alone.  This is called “Solitude in Public”.  During a performance, before an audience of thousands, you can always enclose yourself in this circle, like a snail in its shell.  You can carry it with you wherever you go.”  -Konstantin Stanislavski

Good one Stan.  This was really good for me, it put me in a good place and left me to think “What’s the worst that can happen?”  I could then answer it… “I’m going to fuck up… and then what?  Onto the next thing.  But the fact is Lizzie, you aren’t going to fuck up… but if you do, (which you won’t) you’ll get through it and it and that’s that.  Job done.  But you’re not going to fuck up anyway…”  and so on…  Regular contradictory conversation with myself keeps me sane.

So my point?  Don’t worry.  It seems big, it might well be, but if you are confident in yourself and you love what you are doing, that’s all that really matters.

And gumpf means stuff.  Lots of random, illogical stuff.  More to come.  

Love. xxx

Neglect

I have totally neglected my blog over the past few months.  I apologise.  I’ll get back to it :)

When You Gonna Dance? Give Dance A Chance. Cosmic Dance

I do recall saying in a past post that I was never planning on mentioning dance again.

I lied.

I have decided that I quite like dance really.  How did this happen?  I’ll explain.

Being at college - you have to eat properly or you wouldn’t survive, and 10 hours of dance a week has really had an effect on my body. I can now go further than touching my toes and do significantly more press-ups than the feeble half I started with.  As a result, I now feel more like a dancer - even though I am, by no means, a dancer.  I now enjoy spending my lessons pretending to be a dancer.  I find it gets me further.

I spent the first half of this terms dance lessons going, “I’m shit, I’m shit, I’m SHIT!” Soon I realised this was less than constructive and although I might be shit, the only way to rise up out of the mouldy mire of deplorable dance was to convince myself that I was/am in fact, amazing.  (The “PRETEND TO BE AN AMAZING DANCER” psychology.) 

One of our many fabulous dance teachers makes us stand in front of the mirror before every routine we do and tells us that we are beautiful dancers and we should like what we see.  What an amazingly positive way to start a first term.  You can see where I got my theory from.

So feeling more positive, I have taken to spending tuesday, thursday and friday lunchtimes in empty studios bashing out wings and paddles to Queens of the Stone Age or whipping through some chaînés to the king of jazz funk:  Jamiroquai.

Digression:  (She loves a digression)  I’ve been listening to jamiroquai for the past few mornings during my 20 minute stomp into college.  I’ve found that if I walk in time to the bass, I end up motoring down the high street, and subsequently cut my journey time down by about 5 minutes.

If someone would like to scientifically prove the time controlling properties of Jamiroquai, all submissions will be gratefully received.

So back to enjoying dance.

I have more stamina, I’m more flexible, I’m working hard and my technique is getting better and better.  Not only am I pretending to be a dancer, but I am slowly becoming one.  All of these things, as well as the positivity that I’ve been injecting myself with have made me feel completely differently about dance.

Eight weeks ago, I wasn’t enjoying my dance lessons:  I was just going to them.  It’s amazing what some positive thought and self confidence can do for a pirouette. 

I’d recommend it.

I’d also recommend listening to Jamiroquai.

An Ill-Advised Guide For How to Survive In Drama School (Clark Kent In The Mist)

As I have billed my blog as “An Ill-Advised Guide For How to Survive In Drama School”, I figured it may come across as deceptive if I didn’t write anything specifically about drama school in it.

I have been to two drama schools now (one Acting course and one Musical Theatre) and at the beginning of both, I had no idea of what was going to hit me.  It’s hard.  People don’t realise that.  Some go into Performing Arts because they think it’s non-academic and will therefore be easy.  It’s amazing, thrilling and has highs and lows like Superman stuck in a hefty bit of Cumulonimbus but easy, it ain’t. 

It’s also not entirely non-academic.  Believe it or not, we actually have to write essays.  Some colleges have to write more than others.  I have friends at one London drama school who have to write up to three essays a week.  For us it’s more like three small ones a term plus an absolute monster.  It does predominantly depend on your affiliated university and what they need in order to accredit your course.  (As most drama schools provide you with a degree as well as/opposed to a diploma)  But definitely be prepared for written work.  Also be prepared for A LOT of reading.  I’m talking several plays a week as well as dipping in and out of voice/acting/movement books.

“Know your craft”  Has proven a really useful piece of advice for me.  If you love it enough to go through the rigorous audition process, leave home, learn to cook and use a hoover, get up at the crack of dawn as well as a multitude of other things you’ve never done before in your life, surely you’d want to be as knowledgeable about it as physically possible.  I wouldn’t say read the whole book - but be aware of the practitioners - look at where their views coincide and collide.  It’s actually really interesting. 

At the beginning of the year, one person on my course told me in no uncertain terms that they categorically did not read.  They have now read more plays than they ever though possible to read in the given space of time and have come to find that actually, it’s not a bad way to spend time.  I would agree.  Although facebook and twitter are the most enticing of sins.

As I think of things I’ll add to my Survival Guide.  I know I would have loved warning of what to expect so hopefully this might help someone.  Or maybe you’re still stuck in the imagery of Superman battling his way through dense towers of fog.

Who knows?

Graffiti on the Metro.

Today I decided to do something slightly odd.  Considering I am a generally odd sort of person, it would probably be odd if I wasn’t doing odd things.

So, on to the vaguely peculiar act.

On the train into town this morning, I picked up a copy of the metro.  

Fairly standard.

Read it.

Again, pretty standard.

Well, some of it.  Not all of it.

Even more standard really.

Then I flipped back onto the front and started writing over the top of an advert promoting Coldplay’s new album.  

(I love coldplay by the way.  I didn’t write over their advertisement to make a statement - it just happened to be the only bit of the page that wasn’t whining about David Cameron’s referendum or going into explicit detail about the death of the former Libyan dictator.  To be perfectly honest, the fact that it happened to be Coldplay is merely coincidental and has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of this post.  I just felt the knowledge that it was Coldplay may add some descriptive colouring to my story.)

So, I started writing on Coldplay (not actually ON Coldplay, on the… never mind) and what I wrote was a story I was given a few weeks ago as I exited the Arcola’s tiny studio theatre.  I felt this story couldn’t be more relevant (if a bit bleak) to what was in the paper today.

The story was The Scorpion and The Frog.  It dates back to ancient folk lore.  Variations of it have been attributed to 3rd century India and indeed, to the iconic Aesop himself.  If you’re interested, look it up :)

I then got onto the tube and headed back towards college and as I changed at Finsbury Park, I left the paper on a bench.  

I don’t know if anyone found my story but if they did I hope they liked it, or even if they didn’t, they took a minute out of their hectic London life to think about it.  

I’m definitely going to take the time to write on more Metros.  I spent today wondering about where my delicately graffitied copy ended up.  When I do it again, I’ll probably draw silly things and compose my own little tales in the hope that it might brighten up someone’s day or give them the boost they need on the way home.  Although the odd fable might not go amiss either.

Why not join in?  Share some joy amongst people who have so much to worry about.  Give them something to celebrate and remind them that it’s not all bad.  Because it really isn’t.

Happiness.  It’s fun. :)