Month: February 2015

The Undine and The Girl

I don’t know what to call this vid (yet) Probably words like ‘yearning’ and ‘longing’ and ‘suffering’ and ‘sorrow’ would fit in somewhere. And the Undine could be another kind of water-being and may mysteriously one day tell us its name.

And the Undine is an ‘It’ for now. I see a Her and Hazel sees a Him.

The girl has to swim away. The Undine needs to swim towards. The Undine wants to claw and to clutch and to hold and to have. The Undine wants to claim the girl so as to bring her home.

But the girl doesn’t want to return home.

They are in this synchronous swum-hung state with one another. Symbiotically together, but tantalisingly apart.

Who has the power here? Which one is ascendant? Which one is helpless?

The girl seems oblivious of the Undine’s suffering.

This ‘vision’ (and Hazels picture) were all inspired by the music you hear in the vid – Sigur Ros’s Saeglopur. Watching and listening to the vid might conjure up all sorts of aches of agonies.

(Video: Ian Nisbet Drawings: Hazel Brown)

Ruff, Becoming Very Ruff

A little vid to pay humble homage to The Shipping Forecast

Viking….. South Utsire…… North Utsire…. Dogger…. Humber… Trafalgar… Lundy …. Fair Isle….

so many names…. sailing in from somewhere we sort of remember but can’t quite fathom …

…. all these sea places…… wrapping themselves around us and our little island…..

…. German Bight….. Shannon…. Rockall…. Bailey…. Faeroes…. all there….

….to make us known…… to keep us safe…..

….. and then of course theres Alan Bennett to ruff up the winds in the waves….

(Video: Ian Nisbet. Drawings: Hazel Brown)

Krapps Lost Love

If Patrick MaGee had read the labels off packets of detergent I’d have still listened to him all day.

But here he’s got the very best words in the very best order to say. In fact, Sam Beckett wrote these words, this play, especially for Pat’s “cracked voice”. What gravelly, dark, dangerous, despair he drags out of it.

The girl that Krapp remembers being in a punt with when he was a young man is repeated like a lament of longing. Here it is

“I asked her to look at me and after a few moments–(pause)–after a few moments she did, but the eyes just slits, because of the glare. I bent over her to get them in the shadow and they opened. (Pause. Low.) Let me in. (Pause.) We drifted in among the flags and stuck. The way they went down, sighing, before the stem! (Pause.) I lay down across her with my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side”

And now you can lay back and let Pats voice take you right into the girl in the punt.

(Video: Ian Nisbet. Drawing: Hazel Brown)

Pinching Plums

When i was 7Hazel as girl edit

H: God You were sooo sweet Ian…beautiful smiley little boy… and white blonde hair…like me…
I: Thats the little boy that plays with your little girl…..
H: I’m crying……….  you and me…..

…..our small child selves…

…….you look so ready for the world….  

…………………………. so innocent ……………………….

I: I’ve just poked my tongue out at her… And she wants to do something back but not sure what….
H: I was shy when I was a maid….
I: I’m going to take you by the hand and we are going to play in some trees… pinching plums….
H: Wouldn’t that be wonder….full… if we could go back there….

H: YES WE CAN… in our air dreams…