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Rio de Janeiro: Working with the Teachers
It all starts in February 1997 in a cafe in Holland
Park where I have arranged to meet three of the Brazilian teachers. They tell
me of their plan to invite me to Brazil. During the months that follow we have
to work together to overcome many difficulties and obstacles, but at the
beginning of September I arrive at Rio de Janeiro airport at 5:20 in the
morning. Roberto and Valeria are waiting, having bravely risen early to come
and meet me. As we leave the arrival hall to go to the car-park I notice that
the external temperature is 21°C....and this is winter. Apparently, because
of "El Niño", they have not really had a winter this year, as I am soon
to find out.
My
first weekend is spent in Ipanema, 100 yards from the famous beach of that
name. The strain of the famous pop-song from the sixties keeps wafting
into my head.
Walking along the sea-front one has an immediate impression of the
importance of physical culture here. The women are extraordinarily
beautiful with hour-glass figures; young men with muscular bodies are
exercising on beach-side apparatuses; there are numerous games of "futevol"
(an extremely energetic combination of football and volleyball, which
really needs the softness of the sand for the players to land on as they
throw themselves at the ball); and countless people are cycling, jogging,
"power-walking" or, just like me, strolling along the pavements
and cycle tracks. On Sundays they even shut off the traffic to allow more
people to join in these favourite "carioca" pastimes.
What a beautiful city, so full of contrasts, Rio is! A perfect setting of
beach after beach; hills; an enormous lake in the middle; an enchanted
forest minutes away; and architecture which reflects the past, present and
future in such a way that they all seem to be condensed together in an
accelerated history
For the first week I am not teaching. I have time to get to know a little
the city and the people. My strongest impression, from a philosophical
point of view, is that of "influences". In Great Britain early
Celtic, Roman, Anglo-Saxon, Norman and other early influences have more or
less blended into something which we recognise as "British".
Later immigrants from the Caribbean, India, Pakistan etc. often maintain
strong cultural and community links. Rio does not seem quite like either
of these. The influences of different cultures and races are in a certain
"degree of blending". One recognises native Indian, Portuguese,
African, Mediterranean, North European and North American influences
almost, as it were, in a chemical mixture; not yet a compound.
Work starts with a lecture at the Music Department of the University of
Rio. I have prepared a talk and shown it to my translator, Laura, but
there is also the possibility of speaking in Spanish. It seems that in
Brazil most educated people understand Spanish, much more than in Portugal
where there seems to be a certain prejudice against their neighbouring
Iberian tongue.
Sitting in the lecture theatre before people start to arrive, Roberto and
I fold leaflets to hand out; and I am thinking, "What? Me, here? How
strange! How on earth do I come to find myself about to address a group of
people in Rio de Janeiro on the subject of an Australian actor and his
discoveries about human functioning? What a strange world it is!" So
surrealistic does it seem to me at that moment that I am hardly even
nervous.
Fortunately they understand my Spanish - "¡Qué maravilla!",
and Laura, my Portuguese/English translator, has only to help
occasionally. They are an interested audience and ask intelligent
questions.
The next day I give private lessons to some of the Rio teachers' pupils
and then have two very intensive days of work. A teachers group each
morning followed by public workshops in the afternoon.
My focus with the teachers is to try to direct their thinking towards
their own use in activity and away from "teaching". We take as
our starting point Alexander's famous statement. "You can have what I
have if you do what I did," with the all important addendum which, as
Marjory Barlow reminded us at the 1997 Annual Conference, is usually
missed out, "but none of you wants anything mental."
We discuss the importance of "making discoveries" about oneself;
"eliminating the wrong"; being clear about what it is we are
trying to inhibit; how the primary control has to emerge and not be
superimposed. What is it that emerges? Some simple facts about the
relation of the head to the neck and spine; the capacity and willingness -
given half a chance - of the body to expand. From there we move on to the
role of the teacher; to help the pupil to enter into the discovery-making
process; to give them the tools.
After lunch in a typical Rio "buffet restaurant" (a delicious
spread of meat, fish, pastries, salads, vegetables, fruits, desserts etc.
to which you help yourself and then pay for by weight) we all go to the
public workshop. It is very useful to have worked together in the morning
as we arrive with a certain cohesion of purpose which helps to create an
atmosphere of "work".
The pupils are mostly in the performing arts and have varying degrees of
experience of the Technique. I begin by saying that we are going to
explore some aspects of the subtleties of human functioning and that we
will need all our attention and all our powers of observation. I also ask
that those who were willing to perform should prepare something for the
following day.
I say that Alexander discovered a way of organising oneself in the
ordinary activities of daily life; that this is achieved through a process
of eliminating the wrong, the unnecessary, and discovering the underlying
natural co-ordination. Any attempt to "get it right" is bound to
hinder this process. In order to start to make the exploration practical I
split the group into two; one half observes while the teachers work with
the others in the activity of walking. The role of the teachers is to try
to help the pupils discover what is really going on and not just to
"put them right". To give the observers some ideas about what to
look for I demonstrate different styles of walking with different parts of
the body leading. The groups then swap round and observations are
exchanged. We are gathering data on how people function; what is necessary
and unnecessary; what are the preconditions of efficient functioning, and
I allow plenty of time for these exchanges. It is important to stimulate
their minds as well as their bodies.
The most common observation people make is that they feel more present,
focused and more aware of themselves - including their tensions. Nothing
could be more useful. After some lying down work we end the first session.
The following morning with the teachers
we review the work with the head, neck and back; the "unlocking"
at the atlanto-occipital joint in order to allow the spine's inner spring
to open and the rib-cage to expand - the basic, simple
"physical" aspect of the Technique. We then explore how to take
this "auto-co-ordination" into activity, in particular the
activity of working with a pupil. It is stressed that the work of co-ordinating
oneself should be carried out before putting hands on the pupil, not
afterwards.
We then return to the psychological
aspects of Alexander's discovery using a simple experiment. I am always
struck by the fact that Alexander could not progress in his own "work
on self" until he had explored the question of "consent".
If this experiment - stopping and making
a decision - is carried out in the right conditions it can give someone,
even relatively inexperienced, an immediate and potentially
transformational experience of having choice. Even for many teachers it
opens a new door into the oft ignored psychological rather than
kinaesthetic or energetic aspects of "work on self".
In the afternoon at the public workshop people arrive over the space of
several minutes and spontaneously put themselves on the floor. It was not
how I had planned to start the session, but it seems to be what they need,
so the teachers go round and work with them.
Then we go into an exchange of
experiences and observations arising out of the previous day.
In order to get everyone up and moving
again we return to "walking" with the teachers helping. We then
try to work with the whispered "Ah", which proves very difficult
in such a large group.
After the break I work with someone on
this experiment of stopping and making a decision. I am very lucky that
the volunteer responds exactly as one would expect (i.e. reacting
immediately without "inhibiting"), giving good feedback and
allowing people to observe a "principle" at work.
We then try to develop the application
of this principle to certain activities that interest people. It is a
little difficult at first to persuade anyone to try anything, though I
feel in them an underlying willingness to "have a go".
Eventually one person tries some writing, another some dance movements,
someone sings and another tries some shiatsu. The changes which can happen
when they are "directed" are impressive. A new interest and
willingness to try is beginning to awaken in the room - but ....alas, time
runs out and we have to stop. We really need a third day when, I feel
sure, we could "modulate" into another key.
What is the benefit of such an event? My
view is that it can open possibilities for people. I don't think that by
only working in such a way people would have enough exposure to the
nitty-gritty of undoing habits - but, from time to time, to explore the
principles in a dynamic group context can, as Marjorie Barstow
demonstrated over many years, open up new perspectives.
After a celebration and farewell dinner
that evening, I leave early the next morning for Sao Paolo and Foz de
Iguacu. My experience in Rio has been a rich one and I hope that one day I
will return. Many thanks to all those people who made it possible.
A
Spectacular Diversion
The
journey from Rio de Janeiro to Sao Paolo is memorable for me. We leave
very early in the morning to avoid the rush hour traffic and take the
long, scenic route via the coast. Apart from the beauty of the coastal
scenery there is the added bonus of a visit to Parachí, a colonial port,
whence gold and precious stones were exported to Europe. Because of one of
those quirks of fate, it was by-passed by a new road and preserved in all
its colonial splendour. Now it is on the tourist trail but fortunately in
an epoch which values conservation, and no modern buildings or traffic
spoil the impression of stepping back in time.
I
have one day in Sao Paolo and then a three day trip to the south of
Brazil; Foz de Iguacu, where there is an extraordinarily beautiful natural
phenomenon on the border with Argentina - a waterfall some five times
wider than Niagara Falls. Opinions differ as to which side of the border
offers the best views, so I go to both sides and even take the view from
underneath in a high-powered rapid-shooting motor-launch. It is awesome.
What
is also interesting is to observe people's behaviour in front of such a
force of Nature. On the way to the falls I am sharing a mini-bus with one
other passenger. He is about sixty years old, tense, hyperactive, his
centre of gravity in his head and gives the impression of taking an
enforced holiday with a sort of grim determination to "do all the
sites". The whole way there he is quizzing the driver about the value
for money of various trips on offer. In his hand he is carrying a book. I
try to see what it is - perhaps it will give me some insight into his
character. It is a text book on molecular biology; he is a scientist. I
determine to get as far away as possible from him when we reach the falls,
as I prefer to see them from a poetic rather than a scientific point of
view. However, we chance into each other at one of the main observation
platforms. All his tension has gone. He is struck dumb by the scale of
what is in front of him. Such a phenomenon has a strange "levelling"
effect on people. We are all equally insignificant when measured against
such forces. We exchange a look and a smile: a simple human contact.
I
return to Sao Paolo the night before Isabel and I are to present the
Alexander Technique at a Choir Festival in Morumbi. One of Isabel's pupils
is involved with the organisation of this annual event and it is their
intention to invite a guest speaker each year to present a theme; this
year it is to be the Alexander Technique.
Sao
Paolo and the Music Festival
We
leave early in the morning to find the condominium where the festival is
to take place. Neither of us knows quite what to expect. Such moments are
full of possibilities: how to respond to the unknown? Does one desperately
try to prepare for all contingencies with the "known" - and
thereby fall back on habit, or plunge into the experience with all senses
alert: "..the readiness is all" ? I try for the latter, enjoying
the sharpened awareness which invariably accompanies the really new.
We
arrive and are welcomed. There are some organisational matters to attend
to; positioning on the platform, folding leaflets, microphones etc. A
translator is on hand in case of need. Participants begin to arrive and
the hall is filling up. What sort of people are they? What is their level
of interest? I am used to working with professional musicians, but these
are (the conductors excepted) amateurs. How serious are they about their
music, about themselves?
In
the morning session I give a lecture in which I try to outline Alexander's
life, the main principles of his discoveries and their relevance to
performing artists. As in Rio I speak in Spanish and it seems that I am
easily understood. My translator, whose English is impeccable, is hardly
needed. The talk is fairly well received and excites a certain amount of
interest and curiosity. So far, so good.
Fortunately
Isabel, well knowing the Brazilian character, has had the foresight and
resolve to ensure that we have a private lunch with our translator and are
unassailed by festival participants. We find ourselves in the large
condominium restaurant, practically empty, with an excellent choice of
food. Knowing my predisposition to feel sleepy after lunch I do not take
full advantage of the fare on offer, and have a light meal only.
The
first session after lunch is with the conductors. It soon becomes apparent
that what has most captured their interest is the idea of a pause between
stimulus and response. I am surprised but very pleased about this, because
usually people are too quickly captivated by the "physical"
aspects of the work. They somehow intuit that this is something of great
significance and are eager to explore how this idea can be applied in a
practical way to their work with the choirs. We discuss various
possibilities and try some practical work; a very stimulating and engaging
hour.
Then
the pièce de résistance: the workshop with the festival participants - a
group of around sixty people aged, I would estimate, between seventeen and
seventy. What are we going to do with all these people? Of course, I have
some ideas, options and possibilities in mind, but I have certainly not
decided in advance. This approach - of trying to "be in the
situation" and respond to what is needed, rather than to follow a
predetermined plan before even meeting the people one is going to work
with, can be somewhat nerve-racking to say the least, but it brings the
whole thing to life. There is a real demand to stay alert, observant and
(as we are always saying to our pupils) to "let do".
The
chairs are still arranged in rows from the morning lecture, so we quickly
get people to move them to form a large circle. The first group of people
I am going to work with are selected from each of the six or seven choirs
in the festival, as I feel that it is important that those observing know
at least one of the participants, partly because it will bring a more
personal interest to the proceedings but also because they are more likely
to register any changes which may take place; any differences between
their usual known states and how they are after our "input".
What
then follows in the next two hours or so is really a wonderfully new and
enlivening experience, certainly for Isabel and I and also for many of the
singers. Perhaps because they are amateur musicians and less inhibited by
the worry of protecting their self-image in front of their peers, perhaps
for other reasons, I do not know, but what is certain is that they are
very willing to take risks and "have a go". We witness some
extraordinary, albeit temporary, changes in people that afternoon. The
ambience is relaxed and supportive; people are encouraged by their fellow
choir members to try something and great appreciation is shown for those
who do.
We
start by taking groups of people and working with them in a simple
activity; walking. From there we look at sitting, and then move on to
singing. What particularly stands out is one young man who has no real
voice to speak of, but having "let go" of something, he really
sings to people, from his heart, and they are touched. He is so surprised
himself by the experience that he is almost overcome. At the end we work
with one choir and its conductor. First we hear them "do their own
thing". Then we work on each one for a while, encouraging them to
divide their attention between their own backs and the conductor. When
they next try to sing, something is a bit more focused, but a kind of
"trying" has crept in. We then get them moving around, with head
leading, and at a certain signal they reassume their positions in the
choir and begin their song. Something then comes alive; a wonderful
fluidity and effortless performance - all working together as a co-ordinated
unit.
In
a way I feel that I should not separate Isabel and myself from the
participants, because I believe that we also are participants in what
occurs that afternoon. We play a small part in facilitating something -
perhaps providing a focus - but what happens is the result of a coming
together of many different factors and I certainly feel privileged to be a
part of it.
For
the rest of my time in Sao Paolo I am working with Isabel's pupils. Her
main reason for wanting me and others to come to Brazil is to give her
pupils the experience of working with other teachers They are very
fortunate to have someone who has such a care for them and for the
development of the Alexander Technique in Brazil. They are lively and
interesting. We spend an evening together discussing some ideas and try
some things out. It can be very useful for people having lessons to meet
each other from time to time and exchange their observations and
experiences.
There
is little time to do much in Sao Paolo as I have such a busy schedule, but
I retain some colourful moments with Isabel and her husband, Marcel, and
look forward to our next meeting, wherever and whenever that may be.
How
interesting that the extraordinary blend of influences that makes up what
is known as "Brazil" now includes the as yet small but
significant one of F. M. Alexander's discoveries.
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