PHYSICAL LAB (Yorgos Karamalegos)



Yorgos + Stella
15|09|19


So much of the reflection on our time with Yorgos has, and is continuing, to be shaped by the experiences I am having with more recent guest artists. To this end, a lot of my takeaways are now looking at the broader spectrum of theatre-making, and less specifically at the exact techniques Yorgos used to work with us.
Speaking of, the toughest aspect of the two weeks we spent together was the creation of this “performance” (that everyone seems so hesitant to actually just call a performance – which is what it was). In the short time frame we had together, it was always going to be difficult to dive very far into, but even still, there was a commonly held sense of distance from what we were making. For me, this has brought in the wider question of how best to approach the construction of image-based work – and to really clarify, this work was image based entirely. It felt like it could fit right into the same veins as Robert Wilson’s Einstein on the Beach, or any of Dimitris Papaioannou’s recent works, due to its emphasis on spatial exploration, and narratively discontiguous moments, or scenes.
Now, we were given a starting point: dreams and the subconscious. However, these two topics aligned much more consistently to an aesthetic or style, than it did an explorable theme. There’s even the irony that comes with visualising or discussing the subconscious, in that as soon as you bring it into your consciousness, it is no longer sub-conscious. Not to mention your dreams could encompass the entire spectrum of possible human thought. This all added up to a very shaky and loose foundation upon which to draw creative material, and has brought into question the way in which I make my work, which has largely been either based on or inspired by images.
In the past, a deeper understanding of the signifier of whatever image I’m using presents itself, and then I am able to keep creating around this – but do I always need to have this? As a performer, it was remarkably difficult to devise from such a loose place. However, there were audience members who said they were very touched by what we had presented to them – an odd feeling when what you were doing wasn’t coming from a place of any purpose beyond what was essentially a loose aesthetic and stylistic desire.

This then takes me to thinking more broadly about the purpose of making work. It’s taken, and will continue to take me many years to begin understanding what makes me tick as a maker and art viewer, but it currently stands as the following: I want to feel something I can’t put into words. I think that’s why image-based theatre is such an appropriate starting point for me, because I am usually making from a place of feeling something about an image, that I can then expand on performatively. When I had to make the three-minute audition solo for the CPPM, it became a fairly arduous undertaking, as I couldn’t rely on being able to create a certain image in a foreign studio that I didn’t know. It required me to begin with found dialogue, which then I found a feeling of frustration, and expanded on that.
Currently, this is a similar place I find myself stuck in with working on our Greek tragedy solos – I am finding it difficult to connect to a purpose for my work beyond it simply being an assignment for assessment. I do have a starting image, and a general idea about what this piece could look like, but I can’t answer the question, “why should anyone give a shit?” I began to ask this question a year or so ago while making work, as it’s a great way to find a driving force for your process, but it’s also a tad more pointed than the classic rationale that accompanies a work. This theoretical question was difficult to answer for the shows in the recent SAAL Biennale, as the majority of them had extensively written, academic blurbs, that often did not add up to anything for what we experienced in the theatre itself. On one end of the spectrum, one solo show seemingly had the performer making up an extremely mundane routine on stage for an entire 50 minutes, while on the other end another solo performer created a relatively fun and engaging mix of yoga and social media dance steps – but neither really could answer the question of “why should I give a shit?”
Maybe I’m being too harsh, and this is all entirely subjective to my tastes – the intensity of the course hours, and the remarkably little time and brain space I can allow for my mind to incubate may end up being what I need to just make without thinking too much. Then, on the holiday, I can take that time to reflect and find out why I, and anyone else, should give a shit about what I’m making.

On a completely different note, I realised in these two weeks that I need to allow myself more space to be emotionally present, because this is where my best work is happening. Between Yorgos and this week with Stacy, I have come to the same conclusion, although via radically different methods. Making a change like this takes time though, so I’m going to be researching methods, or apps, that encourage me to check in with myself more often.



10|09|19


Gibbs Model Reflection of our time with Yorgos Karamalegos’ Physical Lab Practice.

Description – what happened?

Yorgos took us through a lot of practical exercises, all based around the idea of relaxing, grounding, and presence. This took form in physical exercises like stomping, word play, and blindfolding.

I am going to speak on a specific moment: when Liisa and I found an emotional breakthrough in a guided exercise with Yorgos.
We were asked to speak in numbers at eachother, creating a sort of conversation. These numbers then could become our text, and declarations of how we were feeling in the current moment. Yorgos guided the class to observe us as we engaged in this exercise, and pushed us through to a place of high emotional vulnerability and presence.

Feelings – how did you feel?

Leading up to the event I was feeling relatively unenthused with the exercise – it felt empty for me, and since I wasn’t receiving anything from it, it was difficult to find an investment in the activity. During the event I began feeling very frustrated and anxious. Having Yorgos place us in front of the class and make us participate in this activity while pushing us and critiquing us felt quite uncomfortable. When we reached the point of vulnerability, I felt like I could almost cry. It was one of those feelings I only get when I’m going through something big in my life, and I can’t hold down emotions any longer.
Following the exercise, I felt really positive about what had happened, but also confused. I look back on it now with inquisitiveness. I think the others felt proud of what had happened.

Evaluation – good or bad?

I think the event as a whole was a very good experience. While in it, the approach seemed fruitless, and like it wasn’t working, but it did eventually get me somewhere new, and this is something I can’t dispute. Maybe there is a better way of getting me there, without the embarrassment and heavy pushing from someone else. I think the contribution of Yorgos and Liisa was essential to the event, but I also contributed my time and energy into following through with what was being asked of me.

Analysis – making sense

I have learned that to get me to a certain place of emotional access and presence, it is a route to be quite harsh and demanding with me. My exhaustion seems to allow my mind to go to the back seat, and I stop overthinking everything I am doing. I also have seen this happen before in the auditions for both RADA and the CPPM, where by being pushed physically, I was able to perform at a level I had not experienced reliably before.
I have learned that I need people to help push me too – I find it difficult to push myself on my own, as I still feel in control. Maybe I need to allow myself to lose control more often, even in daily life.

Conclusion – what else could be done?

The event led me to a place where I was able to recognise a certain vulnerability and presence that I often only experience when I am alone or feeling out of control. It also led me to a place of frustration and confusion, however this is likely due to the unfamiliarity of the situation I was in. If this was to occur again in the future, I think I would encourage myself to be more open and willing to trust in the process of what we are doing. This may apply for similar situations in the future of my practice also, as I need to be open and more trusting to encourage growth and development of myself.

Action Plan – what now?


I need to make a conscious effort to check in with myself and how I am feeling on a more regular basis. To be more honest with myself may allow me to find this ease and presence easier in social situations.
I would like to find a mental health app and/or set myself reminders in my phone to check in with myself on a regular basis, and encourage emotional honesty.


8|09|19


The final days of the making process with Yorgos did indeed pick up steam, and definitely urged a sense of momentum towards the showing on Saturday. There comes a difficulty in this however, because this process then began to feel much easier than earlier, and I’m beginning to think that this might not be necessarily a good thing.

In our Saturday morning Learning + Creativity session, we spoke about the idea of ‘transformative learning’, and how a major aspect in defining such a transformation is uncomfortable-ness. To know that you are changing your entire structure of self brings friction between the old and the new inside one’s inner, and this is interpreted consciously as unease.
Now, I’m not saying that each artist is going to bring about this inner discomfort – but when we began to rush into putting together the performance for open class, we sacrificed a lot of the interesting aspects of the training we had experienced with Yorgos. The priority stopped being about investigation and challenging, and it felt like we all slipped into default performance habits. There’s always worth in performing, and in many ways I’m glad we were able to experience somewhat of a proper staged show – it just put some of the more interesting aspects of Yorgos’ work to the side.

The reason I am reflecting on this is not as a critique on our time with Yorgos, but rather a conscious effort to remind myself in the process of this solo making to try stay in the uncomfortable a bit longer. This is going to be easier said than done, as there is a conflict within myself to just try and nail the things I am already good at. Moreover, there’s now the pressure of our 5 minute prototype performance being assessable for scholarship opportunities, which gives yet another reason to try and create a polished performance.

This all ties into a question I keep coming back to: how much do I need to branch away from my existing interests as a theatremaker? Almost every successful theatre artist has their niche – Pina Bausch, Gecko, Brecht etc. etc. are all instantly recognisable from their work. Is it too early to find my own niche? I can already look back on my work and see a pattern, but maybe by broadening my skillset I can just strengthen what I already have. It’s going to be uncomfortable.


4|09|19


It’s starting to seem like there are a lot of recognisable obstacles I am repeatedly coming up against in the process of devising work. These started to appear when we were working with Ryen on our 10 minute open class presentations – vertical vs horizontal thinking, creative friction, and personal investment. With Yorgos’ work, it’s mostly been the latter – I’ve been on dozens of ups and downs with my investment in the material we’re making together.

When working with Ryen on the Gecko style and process, it had the feeling that we had to go to Ryen/Gecko in terms of style (eg. We had to change and adapt to their prescriptive aesthetic), but then in the devising process, we were left largely to our own devices with Ryen occasionally coming to meet us to guide our work.
Yorgos began very much moving to us at the beginning – working with our bodies in a very neutral way, in order to find relaxation and openness. This is why I think this process felt “familiar” or “comfortable” for me at first. I was going deeper in myself, rather than adapting to something new. Ironically, the devising process we are now deep into has been quite different.

It’s been quite a confusing and difficult week, and I’m still trying to find ways to articulate why. Firstly, I think there’s a real difficulty in devising material for a director who has a clear idea of what they want, without that director being a part of the process. It evolves then into a trial and error of making, showing, changing, making again, and it’s not entirely rewarding. Even when there is praise for a successful offer of material, it doesn’t land with me, and I therefore lack any motivation to keep digging in the work.
This might also be a result of the environment in which we are working – long, packed days don’t allow us much time for incubation time, which I think is very important, at least for myself. If the work we were making was also a proper staged work, maybe the stakes would put a fire under our asses. A bit of “divine pressure”, as a past teacher used to call it, always helps.

This is actually a feeling I’m beginning to wrestle with for my 30 min solo performance. I think I need that incubation time, that time to dream a little, and the intensity of the life I’m living doesn’t allow it too much. Maybe it’s also a chance for me to investigate how to make this happen in the time I have. I think it’s going to result in a quite different work than I have made in the past either way.


I’m running with the punches right now with the Physical Lab work. It’s not unpleasant at all, rather I just feel a little lost. Now that we’re beginning to refine the pieces and place them into a performance context, I might be able to find more of this focus and motivation.


31|08|19


I had intended to write this blog post largely about the devising process in which we have been engaging with over the last handful of days, but I can’t ignore the breakthrough that occurred for me today in the class.

We began with a physical warmup as we always do: planks, loose stomps, finding pleasure etc. Following a brief interlude of vocal text work in Friday’s sessions, Yorgos had assigned the first hours of today’s class to a deeper exploration.
For the majority of the process I felt wildly disingenuous. The repetition of lines with varying inflections and abstract bodily movements almost seems like something out of a parody film. The over-articulation of my mouth just wasn’t doing anything to inspire or give impulse to my body, and there was a saturating wash of artificiality on everything I did.
The next exercise in which we find a partner and engage in a conversation began the same. My partner and I alternated between using numbers, our performance texts, and our inner thoughts, but there was no sense of anything happening beyond us hurling numbers at each-other.
Yorgos perhaps noticed this, and directed the rest of the class’ attention to us while we continued fruitlessly. What happened next can really only be described as a relentless pressing, or digging, into a place of vulnerability. We were instructed to tell each-other how we were feeling in every second moment (literally through the opening words “I feel”) which began insincere, although at that point I don’t think I could even make a differentiation.
The breakthrough began to take shape when my partner said something very authentic about how they felt, and I could see how honest they were being. This urged me to really be a little more honest about how I felt, which at the time was a resentment and confusion towards this exercise. This honesty was encouraged by Yorgos, and cautioned when it disappeared, until I found myself sitting on the floor looking into my partners eyes.
I began to speak the performance text, and I don’t want to articulate how it felt because I know if I do it will be reductive to an experience I am still processing.
It felt like the moment before you cry.
It felt like vulnerability.
It felt present.
It felt honest.
It felt free and open.
It felt like a feeling I have had before, but never around other people.

Then it was over.
I can’t say much more except how I can take this further. It’s like a seed has been planted, and now I need to simply nurture it. If I try to force it, I’ll suffocate it.
I need to be more honest with myself. Not even just in performance, but in life. Really observe myself.


It’s the work of a lifetime, but once you’re there it’s beautiful.



28|08|19

Training and working with Yorgos Karamalegos has so far been the most 'comfortable' of the practices thus far. This is in part due to the familiarity of the exercises we are engaging with - Yorgos is a self-professed "child of Lorna Marshall", who seems to have had quite an influence on many of my own teachers in the past, and so the principles we are guided towards have permeated my previous training. It’s also likely that this comfort comes from Yorgos’ immense sense of care when working, and encouragement towards a released, relaxed, and centred body.
This core principle of relaxation and release is explored through finding pleasure in your body – which in turn is only found by really listening to your body in the first place. Yorgos uses a specific word for this: taste. Imagining mouths all over your body (a somewhat terrifying image in reality) gives a rather strong impetus to have your body really tune into the specific sensations on each small area of your skin. Not only that, but I find it encouraged my body to actively search for these sensations, rather than being passive.

This relaxation is a principle I only began to understand later in my previous training, and I do still struggle with it from time to time. My tendency is tense up and project energy through force rather than release, and this maybe helped me somewhat with Gecko’s work, which often seemed to come from playing between the dichotomy of tension and release. I would be curious to re-visit Gecko’s work, using the principles we’re exploring here with Yorgos.

The training also takes the form of warped reflections on other training devices I have been exposed to before. For instance, we stomp around the room in a manner not totally dissimilar to the Suzuki method, however, with an altered stance, motive, energy. Whereas Suzuki is looking to ground yourself through downward power, assertiveness, and a cohabitation in the body of strength and softness, Yorgos’ stomp urges looseness and (almost) leisure to find a relaxed and grounded state. Furthermore, we also engaged in a reduced (yet also accelerated) form of Anne Bogart and SITI Company’s viewpoints. Instead of building us up with different tools – walk, run, turn, jump etc. – one by one, Yorgos gave us 4 and let us run free. The overall objective was in essence the same – kinaesthetic response for SITI, impulse and reaction for Yorgos - yet I am curious to know whether this is an intentional evolution, or a naturally occurring alternate form of the SITI method. For me as a training performer, it can be hard to separate from my previous knowledge, especially when they may be moving towards differing results, but I guess that’s really all part of the experience of so many different artists. We’re bound to see countless double ups of philosophies and methodologies, and it’s my job to put them through a sieve to find their juicy core.

Maybe then, Yorgos’ methods can be seen as, dare I say, quite contemporary? In the way that they are a very current method, borne from an understanding of previous practices?
Do I even understand what contemporary really means? I still don’t know.