ALEXANDER MAYES

These past weeks were the final performance of my devised play, Albion Revisited. The process began back in January, when I conceived the idea of the story of a man told in three acts, in three different time periods. This was for my final Extended Project, which then enabled me to focus on the performance techniques I’ve been examining over the past few years - of Stella Adler and Patsy Rodenberg. Adler was a method acting teacher, and most famously was Marlon Brando’s acting mentor and Rodenberg, a world renowned vocal and physical acting coach, who has worked regularly with Sir Ian Mckellen and Dame Judy Dench. Albion Revisited was an opportunity to not only devise and write a one actor, three act performance, to be onstage for an hour - but also to explore and synthesise the work of these practitioners into the subsequent performance. Throughout the devising and preparation period, my rehearsals went incredibly well where I ended up hitting all the emotional beats in the latter half of the rehearsal period, much more than I initially expected to. This was a particular testament to Adler's method of Given Circumstances, and of the actor being as specific with their performance as possible - to the point that I was over the moon at how effective my technique and chosen practitioners were working, all the way up to performance night. The performance itself went well too. While there was the usual anxiety before curtain up, I felt a strange sense of calm and tranquility right before the show, much more than I'd hoped or anticipated, but in knowing that I'd done every single thing possible to make the show as good as it could possibly be. Rather than second guessing what to do, and hoping that the show would be a success, I simply reminded myself to be mindful of the final notes I'd received, but other than that to just keep hitting the beats and the tones that I'd been working on for the past several weeks. The techniques of Adler and Rodenberg, as well as a bit of Sanford Meisner, had worked a treat! All the narrative threads came together into a very successful final show, where it was discussed how much the audience enjoyed the evening, and enjoyed the development of the character of Arthur Pritchard over the three different time periods, and the nostalgic aspect of the performance in particular. My final essay went well, and was handed in as arranged, and thus, my masters degree has come to an end! It was both a huge feeling of accomplishment, and a relief to have finished - and a special shout out to my supervisors this term, Dr. Rebecca Benzie and Dr. Bridget Foreman, with whom I wouldn't have finished the module, at least in as positive a performance as I did! The final point to note - is that I've now got my results, and I've done much better than I'd hoped, and gotten a very good mark!! So, so happy, and now off to celebrate, and to plan my graduation. . .

Very quick blog post just for now. . . In the last few days, I’ve handed in my final essays for the performative, first half of my masters degree. So far, my marks have been good, and the feedback I’ve received, particularly for my acting work - has been much better than I expected it would have been - due to balancing life and study. There have been several moments, when onstage, that I’ve paused, and realised, not only how far I’ve come - But how much I have synthesised the techniques that I’ve learnt over the past few months, and been able to transpose those into some of the most effective moments of performance that I’ve so far enacted, over the past several years. (I’m going to write more about this in the coming months, and about the way I’ve developed and refined my own techniques - so apologies if it sounds obtuse and a little vague right now). Am especially proud, due to some of the challenges of the past year or two, of how I’ve still been able to focus on my creativity, and on my goals somewhat, and contextualise these within a framework of what I am looking to achieve in the coming years. Also, I had some productive meetings with my lecturers about post-masters career stuff, and about more devising and acting work, in the coming years. There are several other variables to consider externally, but overall, looking positive for the future. Now, a few days off, and onto my twenty-thousand word dissertation. Twenty thousand words. . . Crikey.

This was a short verse I wrote - to be performed at a Remembrance Sunday ceremony several years ago. "We do not know you - you young Toms who died. Nor you know us, who both remained and cried - Our grateful feelings; for your lives not lost in vain. For our liberty fought, through your blood and pain. We've scant tale, of just how strong you were, Of your generation's voice, still gently heard. Whispered forth, still, across a hundred years - We hold your bloody hand, to allay all your fears. So speak that your madness is now at an end - We've never met, my courageous young friend. Though, little comfort for brothers now long dead- These simple lines of prose, and other poems read. On one bitter November Sunday, on winter's Eve, We always remember you: and we will always grieve". Copyright Alexander Mayes 2022.

So - I'm back at university. Studying for my masters degree in Theatre Making! So, in the two years that I've tried to turn my life around, I'm starting my second degree! (Please excuse all the exclamation marks, but I feel that it's an exclamation-y kind of a paragraph). I'm going to keep this post relatively short, as am knee-deep in assignment and presentation preparation at the moment. But - I will say that, again, that the path to get here was a huge, huge challenge! I moved house here all on my own, had to fight to get the funding sorted out (still pending), and still, still managing a health matter. So (and now I've just realised that there are nearly as many "so's" in this paragraph, as there are exclamation marks - it hasn't been plain sailing, but am still here, and still in the game, as they say. In the coming weeks, it will mark the ten year anniversary of the the day I fell, and decided to try and change my life completely - and what with moving house, returning to study, and focusing fully on myself, I think it's not too immodest to say, overall it's been a huge positive move. I was in a taxi the other day, driven by a really nice chap called Robin, who I've met before. Robin's always giving his passengers the good advice - and his words this time were "Xander, make your castles out of sand, and your paths out of sand". That is to say, keep your goals large and permanent, and keep the way that you get there, flexible and ever-changing. Wise words indeed. Thank you Rob, you star! And just something to think about, while we reflect on what a transient year we've all had. The picture atop this blog entry by the way, is of a couple of the trees on campus near my flat. Aren't they beautiful? I've nicknamed them the Flame Trees Of Goodricke. Such a powerful autumnal image. Until later dear friends, keep on the sandy path toward your castle. Much love to you all, Xander.

So, I’ve been in a play - “The Coppergate Woman”, at the York Theatre Royal. The play ran for a week at the beginning of August, and was the first large community show following the covid pandemic, and its subsequent lockdown. It was also the first litmus test about doing a large-scale community show, after the huge success of "Everything Is Possible" a few years before (which was written by Bridget Foreman - one of my playwriting lecturers at York). "The Coppergate Woman" was written by Maureen Lennon, (who previously co-founded the award-winning Bellow Theatre company), and deftly blended historical elements of viking mythology, alongside modern day York lives, especially as seen through the lens of the pandemic, and how the past and present informed, and spoke to one another. It was these voices which were so expertly brought to life by our directors Juliet Forster and John Wilkinson, and given an agency, (and an urgency) which we all found both refreshing and inspiring - both ensemble and audience alike. The viking voices of the past were given specific relevance in their words and intonation, while the modern York folk, and folklore, were given historical context by showing the world altering events which the cast, and us all, have eventually lived through in our collective recent past. All these elements were further enhanced by truly exquisite costume design and manufacture, and the as-expected professional York Theatre Royal stage sets and lighting, backed up by an army of community volunteers - all of whom devoted hundreds of work-hours, in the hope of delivering something both memorable and spectacular - both of which the show showed, and then some! The week of the run, had a performance which was filmed (the trailer is here on my website on my YouTube account), and during that week, many of the performances were sold out. There was, both front-of-house and backstage, a tangible sense of both excitement and relief that life had begun to return to normal, whether a new normal or an old normal - such is the power of performance, and the wonder of the words. As for me, playing the role of Heimdall - it was especially poignant as it was the biggest performance that i’d been involved in for years, having come from the Theatre For Wellbeing group at the Theatre Royal. Despite some specific challenges, the play ultimately proved to be both enlightening and inspirational. Sharing a stage at such a wonderful venue, along with my fellow gods (our own immortal theatre troupe did not go unnoticed!) was a particular delight - as was our repertory company being led by a professional actor, the luminous Kate Hampson, who so wonderfully embodied the mythology and the words of the Coppergate Woman every night. Theatre was written off in the past couple of years, with many people not believing that it would ever return anything like it did in the past. Yet this show, about the past and the present, together informed what the future of theatre could still look and feel like - a community gathering to celebrate together, young and old, professional or not - all committed to something bigger than themselves, and everyone enriched because of it. Whether on stage or off, in a play or in life. The events of the last couple of years, and the narrative of “The Coppergate Woman”, have shown that we are all in our own way, the hero in the narrative of our own lives, and that the real riches are the ones that we have truly missed of late - each other, our families, our friends and our community. And it was a community show which helped, in some small way in the first week of August, to remind us of that. Like the Coppergate Woman, we have returned.

I woke up on the morning of my graduation - I got dressed and wore my dad’s tie - the one with the flowers on, to have him with me in some way - and I put a picture of Auntie Jessie on my phone, so she would be with me for the coming day too. The two people (of the three) who were most instrumental in me starting this journey. I’d previously booked a taxi for 1pm, and set off. I arrived at the university, and joined the various queues to get my tickets, and yet more tickets - for me, for drinks, for my guests and for my guest’s drinks. I then entered the room to get robed up. The man on the door noted that “this looks like a man whose got everything under control” until he noticed that I still had the security tag on my suit jacket! Three different people tried to remove it, but to no avail - but the last lady advised that my robes would cover up any nefarious hemlines - which they did. For the first time in my life - I was stood, wearing my graduation robes. Over the next couple of hours, I met, either by accident or by arrangement, several friends from my course, including Blaise and Estella, who I didn’t know had deferred and so were graduating the same day as me. It felt in some ways an added bonus to see familiar faces, who were getting their awards alongside me. I then met my friend Sarah, the head of Goodricke College, who had become a huge support during my final year and a great friend. We had a hot chocolate (of course) in the cafe near the library. I loved the smiles of people as they nodded at me - seeing me in my cap and gown, knowing that I was graduating. It was a word that kept going around and around in my head! Graduating. Graduating. Graduating. I got a picture with Sarah, and headed off to meet my family - who were, I think, as excited as I was! I was stood near Market Square, when I heard a voice and felt a huge hug both happen simultaneously. My best friend Tim was here! He stood back and admired my robes, both of us laughing at the emotion and the excitement of the day. The bus pulled up and my mum and brother got off - Mum was wearing a red tartan jacket, bright enough to be seen from Hadrian’s Wall, or in the expanse of the Grand Central Hall. We all headed there, the ceremony about to start. There were two lines into the huge building - one for guests, and the other for graduands. As I walked through the door for the latter, surrounded by others wearing caps and gowns, the nerves and the excitement shifted up a notch - the hour was here. Finally. I entered the Grand Central Hall - the first time I’d ever been in the large building, and I took my seat. Seated next to Cara (a fellow student and someone I’d never spoken to before - though she was lovely!) we sat and read the graduation brochure. I never knew we got a brochure - but made sure we were all sat in the same place, and in the right order. Mum and Kieran sat to my right, on the front row, and the chancellor duly opened the ceremony. We graduates all sat and silently smiled at one another. We’d done it! In an era of covid, of Brexit and other challenges, we’d all focused on the bigger goal and massively achieved! I was sat there - and I felt so proud of my fellow students, all young, all setting out on their careers. The masters students were called to the stage first, line by line. Then Duncan Petrie, the head of the Theatre, Film & Television department, and my dissertation supervisor, called the undergraduates to line up by the stage. (We were quietly advised to doff our caps at the chancellor in recognition and celebration of our achievements), Our robes were checked one final time, and I approached the stairs. Then, at just before five pm, on Tuesday the third of May, 2022, I heard my name called and I crossed the stage. I’m writing here, but simply can’t find the words to describe how I felt. After such a tough time, after a lifetime of challenges, I’d achieved the biggest goal I’d ever set myself, I’d excelled and made myself proud. The moment passed both quickly, yet in slow motion. Duncan to my left, a moment of congratulation with the chancellor, and a smile to Doctor Tom Cantrell, who was sat on the stage, and I climbed down the steps on the opposite side. The moment that I had dreamed off, that I had worked toward, had passed, and it didn’t disappoint! After the ceremony concluded, I’d received a text that my friend Mo had watched the ceremony, and I was finally able to catch up with her for pictures with us all. We all took it in turns to get pictures, of me looking all robed up and student-like, with Mo, Tim, Kieran and Mum. This continued when I went for my official graduation day pictures taking, near Market Square. Like my friend Kate advised, the scroll that features in all graduation pictures, was in fact a small piece of plastic pipe with a red ribbon on it! I was still learning things - even on my graduation day! The photoshoot was lovely with family again, and a feeling that the day was now concluding. I said goodbye to Mum and Kieran, and decided to just go and say goodbye to all my fellow cohort, who were attending the after-party near the lake. I walked over to meet my good friends Meg and Will, and congratulated Will - he was graduating with me today too, and I embraced Meg. She said “Look at you getting a round of applause!” I just stood and blushed. It was so good to see my friends all getting the day that they all deserved - after the lockdowns, the delays and the pandemic, to see everyone back together on such a special day was amazing. I stood on the steps for a moment, and took in the view across the gazebo and the lake, and we called it a day. Leaving the campus after such a huge occasion, we got a burger and headed home. After a quick shower, I opened a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates. But, most important of all, I brought out my degree certificate - still in its original envelope, from a promise I made to myself not to see my degree “in person” until the day I graduated. Onto my second glass of wine, and I opened the envelope, and for the first time I saw my degree certificate. Like the ceremony itself, it didn’t disappoint, and I thought of all the things that had brought me to today, over the years - both good and bad. All the challenges I’d faced even during the course itself, over the past few years - and yet here I was. Proof was in my hands, that despite it all, I’d finally graduated. That I’d made the grade, and then some! And I thought of the people that weren’t here, that would have been so proud of me, my dad most of all. And in that moment I was as proud of him as I ever was, and knew that he would have been proud of me too. It’s been years now Pop, but today was a day for you too. I love you, and even though you weren’t there, you are still with me.

Hello friends, I looked back on here and realised that it’s been a year since I last posted! A whole year! So sorry - had life stuff to attend to. In the future I fully intend to post more regularly to keep folks (and remind myself of) updated! The one thing I’m trying on my website here is a new style background - a new font, colour and slightly different background change. Will see how this new look pans out over the next few weeks. The other big thing for me has been - that I’ve been offered a place on the masters degree course for the Theatre Making at York. This focuses more on acting and writing, building on my Theatre: Writing, Directing & Performance undergraduate degree, for which I graduate from in a couple of weeks!! Yahoo! Finally! (Pics of that will most likely follow). I’m mindful of a couple of quotes that were told to me this past few weeks, which made me reflect on my own situation. The first was - “As the world can be so divisive, it’s own own responsibility to write our own stories”, And the second - “Build your castles out of stone, but your paths out of sand”. (In other words be a flexible as possible, in your approach to your own ambitions and goals). The path to more education begins now. Keep well dear friends, and be safe. Much love, Xander. X

Today was a monumental day! I've just finished filming, and subsequently edited, and added the first item of filmed content. It's the poem "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley. Some of you, am sure, will have heard of it - but I only stumbled on it a few months ago. It's so succinct, and yet so incredibly powerful in its meaning, about retaining a positive mindset in life, despite what life might throw at us. I think in the past year that we've all had, these simple words resonate with us all, for myriad different reasons. So, I hope that you enjoy the words and the acting - and whether you've come upon my website via search-engine or social media, I'd love to hear what you think. Much love, and stay safe. X

So, that's me in Glen Etive, in Scotland, in a picture taken by my best mate, Tim. Here I'm doing a very bad impersonation of James Bond, but still, fantastic pic! No other link between the pic and the content other than that my website is finished!! So, so happy. This is the end of the construction phase, and am going now to the "beta" phase and getting feedback, and over the next months - when lockdown finishes, starting to upload more content. Until then, stay safe, and thank you so, so much for reading. Alex. x