Thursday 26 May 2016

IN MEMORY OF PAUL DEVLIN, THEATRE MAKER

Words in memory of Paul Devlin.
Magee theatre department, UU, Foyle Arts Building. 26.5.2016

Is mise Dave Duggan. Drámadóir is urscealaí is ea mé.
I'm Dave Duggan. I'm a dramatist and a novelist.
Is mór an onóir agus an pribhléid dom focail cuimhneachán a rá ar son Paul Devlin.
It is a great honour and a privilege to say some words in memory of Paul Devlin.
Mo bhuíochas do Lisa as an cuireadh.
My thanks to Lisa for the invitation.

Words are my business. Paul loved words. Essentially, I want to say and use four of them. Three S words and one F word.

Let's start with the F word. Paul Devlin was my friend. There are many people who were Paul's friends, and very much more: Kate and their fine daughters; Paul's wider family; men and women he grew up with, knocked about with at school and college; worked with, staff and students, here in Magee and elsewhere. Myself and Paul Devlin were friends as theatre makers and as men. There are misconceptions that men don't form friendships. Men do. That men don't share. Men do. That older men (me) and young men (Paul) – (the tragedy of Paul's death is a tragedy of youthfulness) don't become friends. We did. We'd be in the canteen, invariably with a plate of his chips between us, me ngucking them and we'd be talking about making theatre. Often with Adrian to add the seasoning.

Which leads me to the first S word. I quickly realised that Paul knew things. Deeply. That he was wise. That Paul Devlin was a savant. I saw him speak at a conference and was struck by the depth of his knowledge, his felicitous use of language and his humane yet wry take on his work and on the world.

And he did more than know things. He found things. He detected opportunities, airs in the zeitgeist, possibilities in the culture that could be explored by theatre. He was a researcher, yes, but in the fine tradition of unearthing that is the realm of the sleuth. Paul Devlin was a Shamus, the second S word.

I was not long out of hospital, recovering from a critical illness that had almost taken me away, when he asked me to make something about borders. I found a townland name on a map and we went there, to Brishmachree – an anglicisation of the Irish do bhris mo chroí, my heart broke – and I wrote and performed a theatre piece on borders, under his commission and his direction. It was a pleasure to take direction from him in this room/building. And then to perform the work on a June day of near persistent rain, down a muddy lane, where fine mists occluded the ancient sun fort at An Grianán in front of us and the medieval keep of the O'Doherty's beside us, but could not occlude the magic and wonder of Paul Devlin's making.

Thus I find the third S word. Paul Devlin was shaman, a theatre maker of ritual and magic, rooted to our wondrous earth. One of his great shamanistic acts was the theatrical carnival of memory he directed in the department store, Austins of the Diamond. He led students and staff, and he included me, with my writer's kitchen, in a grand theatrical embodiment of living history, remembering and performing, which has particular resonance now that the shop, like Paul's all too short life, has come to an end.

We cannot shirk away from tragedy, in life and in theatre. Tragedy, as a concept and as a reality, as a manifestation of the cruelty of life, was often addressed in conversations Paul and I shared. Is tragedy ever a boon? Never. The boon is living, as Paul Devlin did. As savant, shamus, shaman. And of course, the F word. As friend.

Let us chose our words, then. S words and F words.
L words too. Live. Love.
Míle buíochas. A thousand thanks.






http://breathingwithalimp.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/blogpost-special-new-short-drama.html

www.facebook.com/daveDugganWriter


Tuesday 17 May 2016

IS YOUR MIND DEMORALISED?



John F Schumaker, writing in April 2016's issue of New Internationalist, reckons 'our' minds are demoralised and that it is 'our' culture, and not 'us' that is sick.

Western consumer culture is creating a psycho-spiritual crisis that leaves us disoriented and bereft of purpose.

John F Schumaker means those of 'us' who live within a version of 'western consumer culture'. He reckons the reported increase in depression is actually a rise in demoralisation, which used to be

limited to specific extreme situations, such as debilitating physical injury, terminal illness, prisoner-of-war camps, or anti-morale military tactics.

He reckons 'we' are suffering from an existential disorder, because 'we' haven't a clue who 'we' are, where 'we' are, where 'we're' going and what 'we're' going to do when 'we' get there. 'We' are disoriented, bereft of a map.

'Our' personality structures are undermined by

individualism, materialism, hyper-competition, greed, over-complication, overwork, hurriedness and debt.

Sticking with the journey metaphor, John reckons 'we' have no compass either, and are easy prey for a consumerism that is brittle and dispiriting. He invokes Noam Chomsky's 'philosophy of futility', saying that's about all 'we've' got if 'we've' got any philosophy at all.

'We're' all wankers, basically.

Resilience traits such as patience, restraint and fortitude have given way to short attention spans, over-indulgence and a masturbatory approach to life.

'We' are living in an existential vacuum and are

quickly engulfed by boredom, as well as jadedness, ennui and discontent. This steadily graduates to ‘existential boredom’ wherein the person finds all of life uninteresting and unrewarding.

He refers 'us' to Raoul Naroll (The Moral Order) and Erich Fromm (The Sane Society) for guidance as to how 'we' might give attention to 'our' needs for

belonging, rootedness, identity, transcendence and intellectual stimulation.

He asserts that 'our' culture is dominated by economic priorities and manipulates 'us' by sophisticated industries that trade in illusory consumer satisfaction and unsatisfiable consumer needs, to the point, John F Schumaker reckons, where

Being normal is no longer a healthy ambition.

All grandly analytical, true and feistily written, but from about five paragraphs to the end John F Schumacher starts down a road of prescription that is downbeat, itself demoralised, while crying out for

credible cause, or credible leadership.

The tone of the essay shifts from description to prescription and then it finishes with cataclysm. It becomes the siren cry of a

retired psychology academic

bereft of any hope or meaningful sense of options other than

global catastrophe.

What's striking about the essay's turn of tone, change of discourse and finale of despair is that it appears in the magazine New Internationalist which, in its own words, has been

putting the world to rights since 1973.

It's as if John F Schumaker didn't read the rest of the April, or any other, issue of the magazine, where he might find

credibility, meaning and purposeful action

at forestpeoples.org, wrm.or.uy and among other activists on forests and related issues. Or perhaps he could seek a conversation with Caterina Martins in Portugal and others across Europe firmly opposing the austerity agenda being promulgated by the EU, the IMF and the European Central Bank. Or even have a read of George Monbiot's new book “How did we get into this mess?”, reviewed on page 37.

Then ask himself, his friends, colleagues and neighbours how 'we' might get out of it and when 'we' might make a start?

Resilience traits such as patience, restraint and fortitude

are everywhere in the world.

Read the magazine, John. Get active. Connect. Remoralise.

This writer doesn't know John, but guesses he's probably doing that.

Write about it, John. Push back, even in a small way.

'We'll' all feel better for it.




http://newint.org/columns/essays/2016/04/01/psycho-spiritual-crisis/

www.facebook.com/DaveDugganWriter


Monday 9 May 2016

JUSTICE. MERCY. POLITICS.



Antisemitism is widespread in the world, along with many other hatreds and discriminations based on religious beliefs, race, ethnicity, social class, gender, sexual orientation and physical and mental abilities. No surprise, then, that antisemitism exists in the British Labour Party. Hatreds and discriminations are potent political tools, used widely by opposing political groupings.

To bait fish withal: if it will feed nothing else,
it will feed my revenge.

In a world where powerful states base themselves directly and indirectly on belief in gods, the manner of making critical comments about such states is compromised by the possibility of criticising the beliefs and the people who hold them.

The spectrum of theocratic and near-theocratic states is wide, running from the United States of America, where the head of state, the President, closes public pronouncements with 'God Bless America', to Saudi Arabia, where monarchs, great allies of the USA, oversee a despotic regime, consistent with their preferred form of Islam, which, like all religions, is comprised of many variations. The state of Israel privileges Judaism. Pakistan and Iran privilege Islam. The head of state of the United Kingdom, the monarch, must be a member of a particular Christian church. Could Putin and Kim Il-Jong be seen as privileging secularism into a form of 'god on earth', in Russia and North Korea, with leaders having access to nuclear capabilities?

The recent upheavals in the British Labour Party surrounding allegations of antisemitism show the potency of that manifestation of hatred and discrimination as a political tool. Particular orientations, in relation to responses to the circumstances of the Palestinian people, mean that criticism of the actions of the state of Israel are often on the lips of members of that political party.

That there is antisemitism in the British Labour Party is without doubt the case. That opponents of the party, and the current party leader, might use this as a stick with which to beat them is also no doubt the case. Ken Livingstone's mini-marathon of media recordings that launched the recent row says as much about the febrile nature of allegations of antisemitism as it does about the man (Drink taken? Loose cannon? Mouth almighty? Egotist? Celebrity ex-politician?) or the party's opponents (The Murdoch press? The Tories?) and their ability to use antisemitism as a political tool.

How do you make critical statements or express critical opinions about the state of Israel or the current regime there? With very great difficulty and with maximum sensitivity, that in making such criticisms you are challenging power orthodoxies based on huge international support for the state of Israel by the United States of America.

If you prick us, do we not bleed?
if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison
us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not
revenge?

Even Shakespeare may be flummoxed. Any number of categories of people could be put into his great speech from The Merchant of Venice.

I am a Jew/Muslim. Hath
not a Jew/Muslim eyes? hath not a Jew/Muslim hands, organs,
dimensions, senses, affections, passions?

That the Middle East is the hub of these matters is no surprise. Three of the world's great trades have hubs there: weaponry, oil, digital security. Three of the world's great monotheistic religions have hubs there: Judaism, Islam and Christianity. There are problems with all states in the region, problems that are actual in themselves and also as proxies for problems across the world as experienced and promoted by the Great Powers.

The approach to criticisms then needs to be infused with a quality of mercy; something only found in the heart, where mercy should season justice, yet it is this very justice, as an ideal and as a lived experience, which is most contested.

Is it overly pessimistic to suggest that villainy is the order of the day and the basis of all human activity?

The villainy you
teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I
will better the instruction.

When mercy seasons justice, might there be some possibility of criticism begin heard and acted upon? But then again are not 'mercy' and 'justice' political tools, often aggressively used as such?