|Beyond Consciousness Toward Awareness|
The Dramatherapy Workshop FreeMind is an open space, so long as it goes on consolidating its thinking and its practice. A blog will allow the extension of the communication: drama widened to ideas and competences. Director, E. Gioacchini
@ Director As mind master of the CDIOT, this gives me the opportunity to open a discussion on the fascinating Mind's Creative Processes and the Theatre. So I invite you to join our community, getting it prestigious, because it will be built with your intuitions and questions, meditation and inner answers. This is the place where you can use the freedom to express your doubts and you ideas, sharing with the others the research of your way. The Mind is a living miracle, available better than we could immagine; the theatre is a powerful tool to get deeply its power! But what beyond our discussions? Prepare for becoming part of a new way to discuss with your right emisphere. Explore the real power of hypnosis, dramatherapy and cinema-dramatherapy and get away its magic and false misconceptions.Work nicely with us to create our friendship and the warmth of our curiosity and mind’s exploration. Learn, enjoy and get excited! Help yourself adapt to altering life-style changes..if there’s one constant in our life today it’s change; from every direction and faster than ever. Let’s make the dream a reality...and much much more! Contact and interface with our staff; psychiatrists and psychologists will help you to get your life better!I’m just looking forward to seeing your messages here! ?xml:namespace>
"It does not take much strength to do things, but it requires great strength to decide on what to do" Elbert Hubbard
Monday, 30 May 2011
Friday, 27 May 2011
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
|Dramatherapy Process as Shifting Cultivation.|
(Dramatherapy Backstage, Astra and Fenice
in Sonia, the Rest of My Life, 13 maggio 2011)
Da Wikipedia, l'enciclopedia libera.
La "shifting cultivation" è una tecnica praticata dalle popolazioni che vivono ai bordi della foresta pluviale sempreverde.
Si tratta di una tecnica tipica nell'agricoltura familiare di sussistenza.
All'inizio della stagione secca avviene l'abbattimento di piccole parcelle della foresta secondaria attraverso i limitati mezzi delle popolazioni locali.
Le ramaglie vengono incendiate, le ceneri che si formano hanno un alto potere fertilizzante.
Poco prima dell'inizio della stagione piovosa vengono seminate diverse colture in consociazione. Molto spesso si tratta di specie amilacee da tubero (manioca, igname, taro, tannia), ma anche banano plantain, mais, arachide. La raccolta di queste specie varia a seconda del ciclo (dai 2-3 mesi fino a più di 24 mesi per le specie a ciclo lungo).
Vengono quindi ripetuti più cicli delle specie a ciclo breve all'interno di queste parcelle, il tutto caratterizzato da una "confusione" d'impianto: la consociazione non viene realizzata in maniera razionale come nell'agricoltura tradizionale, bensì in maniera disordinata. Ciò permette: di limitare gli interventi per l'eliminazione delle erbe spontanee, di far sì che le varie specie possano esplorare il terreno e lo strato aereo secondo le proprie esigenze, di limitare gli attacchi parassitari. Nel giro di pochi anni la fertilità decade quindi le parcelle vengono abbandonate per spostarsi in aree vicine non ancora disboscate. La foresta secondaria avrà una rapida ricrescita dalle ceppaie rimaste nel terreno.
Questo continuo abbattimento della foresta e la sua conseguente ricrescita è in perfetto equilibrio e quindi non viene arrecato un danno all'ecosistema foresta.
(in corsivo i perodi che si prrestano ad una corretta interpretazione della metafora)
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
Sunday, 8 May 2011
|A dramatherapic play, written and directed by E. Gioacchini|
(Creative Drama & In-Out Theatre)
Friday 13th May 2011. Dramatically Theatre and Creative Drama In & Out are delighted to invite actors and guests to the BackStage of our next pièce in preparation: Sonia, What Remains for Me... This BackStage, open to an audience of experts and general public, will allow us to show, in a live workshop, instruments and methods of dramatherapy theatre in the staging of a play (booking adviced).
Saturday, 7 May 2011
- The Actor, with the whole theatrical machinery (stage setting, organisation), is ‘at the
service of" Text;
- The Text (the play) is ‘at the service’of the community;
- The Theatre comes from the work of theatre (actor, director) together with community.
|Dramatherapy Workshop, "The Emotional Ground", DramaticaMente Teatro,|
- The Text is ‘at the service’ of the actor.
- The Actor is ‘at the service’ of the interpreter.
- The Dramatherapy' process moves in the direction of the evolutionary drive of the single personality and of the group, in re-defining resources and conflicts, boundaries and tasks.
Tuesday, 3 May 2011
Friday, 22 April 2011
Thank you all, thank you Pulcinella. Many good wishes, from me and Emiliana.
"Un regalo per voi tutti con l'augurio di una meravigliosa Pasqua di pace e serenità: LA SCALA DELLA VITA.
Che belle le nuvole! E’ questo ciò che penso, mentre nella dimensione onirica di me adolescente cammino tra loro. I miei piedi scalzi ad accarezzare nel mio incedere spensierato questa morbida ovatta candida. Improvvisamente, innanzi a me una lunghissima scala a pioli di legno grezzo, con il naso all’insù la guardo per un attimo, con curiosità, cercando di capire dove può condurre. La vedo dissolversi tra i cumuli e con spensierata incoscienza, lentamente, inizio a la mia salita. Un piolo per volta. Decine, centinaia di piccole stecche di legno si inseguono sotto i miei piedi. Quando finirà? L’eccitazione della scoperta pian piano lascia il posto alla stanchezza. Ho paura. Non so cosa fare, non ne vedo la fine, vorrei tornare indietro, ma ci ripenso, non posso e non voglio arrendermi. Guardo in basso la lunghissima scala che si perde nel nulla, mi aggrappo con forza ai bordi che mi sostengono; sento che non ho più forza e la paura, la stanchezza, il dolore del lungo cammino lasciano ora spazio alla disperazione. Maledico la mia curiosità e mentre mi volto esausta per riprendere faticosamente il mio percorso... cosa vedo? Un enorme portone che prima non c’era! Afferro i battenti di bronzo, fauci di leone a sostenerle e con la poca forza ancora rimastami batto due colpi. Subito, come per magia, le grandi e pesanti ante si schiudono morbide quasi fossero ali e ciò che i miei occhi vedono ha davvero dell’incredibile. Un immenso giardino ombreggiato da alberi fioriti in una radiosa giornata di primavera inoltrata. Giù nel fondo una staccionata di legno e oltre solo cielo azzurro e nuvole. Tutti i colori hanno un’intensità tale che ne rimango rapita. Nel naso odore di muschio, fiori ed erba tagliata, ma ciò che maggiormente attrae la mia attenzione è il lento incedere di figure umane, tutte rigorosamente vestite solo di bianco. Una coppia in tipico stile Belle Epoque: lei sotto un enorme cappello, stretta in un bustino che le segna la vita, cammina ondeggiando la sua ampia gonna, accarezzando i fili d’erba sotto di sé. Per ripararsi dal sole, ha un graziosissimo ombrellino di pizzo. Accanto a lei un giovane uomo con i baffi all’insù e un cappello a cilindro le porge il braccio e l’ascolta rapito. Poco distante, un bimbo gioca rincorrendo il suo cerchio, un giovane soldato di una guerra non voluta appoggiato ad un albero, ascolta attento i racconti di due vecchi non più stanchi seduti su una panchina di pietra. Tutti nei loro abiti candidi sorridono e si muovono con dolcezza in quel verde e quell’azzurro limpido riscaldati dai raggi del sole che filtrano tra i rami. Quanta pace, quanta felicità! Sdraiata nell’erba, mi lascio cullare da questa sensazione e travolgere dall’emozione. Non vorrei più scendere quella scala e lasciare quel giardino, vorrei che il tempo si fermasse ora, per sempre, ma è mattino, mia madre mi chiama e risvegliandomi mi riporta alla realtà. “Perché mentre dormivi sorridevi? Cosa stavi sognando piccola mia?”- e lei - “Il Paradiso mamma!”.
Un sogno di tantissimi anni fa, ero piccolissima, non l'ho mai dimenticato. Forse è davvero così, chi può dirlo. Con affetto, Pulcinella.
Tuesday, 19 April 2011
“Hitler got it all wrong: if he had lived now he would have sent the Germans with their large boats to invade the world and nobody would have been able to stop them, because, well, there are humanitarian reasons.” This is fear, no, it is terror. The murder of Vittorio Arrigoni is terror and it is terror when diplomacy prostitutes ‘humanity’ with the law of the strongest.
|"Vittorio Arrigoni", picture taken from the |
A great man used to state (though I am not fond of quotations) that other people’s mistakes are useful to us because we could not learn everything from the ones we commit in our own limited existence... A nice definition that reassures on the issue of mistake, pushing the pedal towards responsibility, rather than ‘fault’.
Vittorio can save a patient (provided that they wish it) from a panic attack, from a hypochondriac thought, just when he, the volunteer, is choking for real, probably bound by a metal tie, in an abandoned room in Gaza. His life, his passion, made of the same catecholamines running abundantly in someone taken by panic, lead us to think, to feel in ourselves disapproval, no... anger and outrage, and then finally sorrow, instead of fear. It does not all happen just because we think about it, just because we read, moved, a newspaper article, but it happens more quietly, if our soul is nourished by events beyond the boundaries of our own walls. It is an internal ‘birth’, which from inside makes you feel free from fear, but able to experience it, if it is human. Inhuman are some deaths and tragedies, inhuman is the panic if its cradle is a civilisation with blinkers, which invents a thousand contraptions to photograph the world without really ‘reflecting’ it.
In the last few years, on the web and in TV programmes, I have often heard saying that “with the economic crisis the statistics of panic attacks has rocketed”, then it was the earthquake in L’Aquila, then the murders of Sarah and of Yara... Let me be ironic about the sharp scientific sense of those who use this information to ‘induce’ to crime... We know that a significant number of accidents in the air can raise the levels of fear to fly, that the climate of uncertainty terrorism has culturally created has a deep impact on our security, outside, but also internally. We do not need that professional skill that jackals have selected for biological survival to survive in us as well, preying on those who have already been preyed on: the information that uses itself to survive, through tragedy or fear. This is not ethical and it does not help those who suffer from ‘fear’.
In our brave theatre, but full of fear, we are aware that we have represented, in three different editions, The Kamikaze and that we have recorded it, while in Gaza and in Israel people were dying for real. We know that we have staged Bluebeard, while two young promising women were having their lives violated. The awareness and the reflection protect you form the deception of history, of the dictator, of the professional, of yourself. One can fight with values, without shooting, without arbitrary boundaries (when ideological ones, whether they rise or fall), against indifference, clichés, and comfortable armchairs, until an unfounded terror comes over us, unfortunately, and induces us to fight pointlessly against ourselves. What am I saying? It is intellectually honest to recognise that the failed integration between personal and social values, in culture as in the individual, may lead to our body and our mind working in haphazard ways, ways that are not useful to our own existence or to that of others.
Thank you, Vittorio.
Thanks to Emiliana Bianchi (Scotland,) for her translation
Sunday, 30 January 2011
OTHER VISION: a musical performance with voice and celtic Harp. Performers, N. Maroccolo and C. Lauri
|A performance by N. Marroccolo e C. Lauri at the Gallery of Modern Art (Ardea),|
dedicated to Giacomo Manzù', 8th October 2010
Monday, 24 January 2011
Rome, 3rd February 2011
The point of view of a camcorder wading through the pond and filming both above and below its surface. Half frog and half Prince, the actor-character is led inside the very film to revisit his own actions and clothes, while the process of dramatherapy unfolds: cinema-drama therapy.
The workshop will be preceded by the presentation of the book:
Shaping the Sight, by Plinio Perilli (2009) Milan: Mancosu
Opening performance: Nina Maroccolo
leggi il COMUNICATO STAMPA
Saturday, 27 March 2010
|A shot from a dramatherapy piece, |
For information and registrations, please contact:
CDIOT - Tel 0039-335-8381627 - Fax: 0039-06-86211363/70
Photo: Rome Theatres, by C. Gioacchini
Monday, 4 May 2009
Let’s explain. Those of us who know J. Cortazar will not fail to consider that something intimate and prophetic connects this great Argentinian writer with the French playwright Ionesco. Let’s try and bring them close, forgetting for a moment that they were in different places, times and were threading different paths. They both create a painful caricature of reality; they christallise it in stereotypes that only a really critical conscience can manage to renounce. It’s too easy to smile at the image of the watch that runs after the wrist, that runs after the arm, that runs after their owner! Too easy to read the worry of ‘reason’ in the face of the population of a whole town transforming into rhinoceros as simple non-sense. We shouldn’t consider a single character, because he is simply a crutch for a deeper theme. If even this theme disappeared from the dialogues, then the sense of the play would vanish. It is YOUR thought that lives in those characters, for the time of a reading or of a staging, and that needs to understand. The language helped us evolve, until we transformed, but it can hide under the thick folds of the rhinoceros’ skin; the conscience forgets it is a distinct identity.
I appreciate, but at the same time grin, at the government’s attempt to reassure us: Italy is safe from Swine Flu! Be brave, my friends - known and still to know – we will not change into pigs; in spite of the fact that we more and more show their habit of feeding on pretty much anything, real and virtual, they offer us. Thus we forget we are still ourselves, surrounded by many landscapes, often disguised by a thousand masks that Lacan invites us to observe! Boundaries are, oh, so important, when we can move them, contract them and widen them, until we can exalt or reassure! How much ‘imprisonment’ in the freedom of speech and how much freedom in the imprisonment of our solitude! Exasperate and grotesque individuals in Rhinocéros, pityingly asking for some relief to the rigidity of conscience-less behaviour, in which language loses its original symbolic power of the unconscious (Lacan); until their very appearance is transformed, with their language and the underpinning power of the signifier (in Ionesco) and the of the stereotypy of the character (in Cortazar). Our eyes and our ears perceive wandering and empty symbols that lack the possessions that make them historical for the experience of the individual and of the group. There is where they can be kept and given new meaning, just like in the analytical experience, that is related to the underlying meaning of the metaphor, to the metonymy proper of the dream. One needs a new fusion that gives back the power of attributing meaning and this happens between the actor and the audience. A key is a cryptic condensation of what the author meant, it pushes against doors without locks, without entrance. Non-sense spreads, words become empty, yet there is one hope: “The text can still be written”, Barthes would say. Weakened, the pretentious structuralist thought must surrender. The itinerary must be remade inside the character represented, because the foolish delirium of ‘fama’ is so disarming, while ‘cronopio’ tidies up his own folly!
The noise of a key, something is turning, the key turns itself, unknown rooms.
Seems I've been waiting half a life/ For things to arriveThat won't come/ Seems I've been waiting all this time/ For the perfect rhyme/ Now it's done/ But I forgot what it was I'm looking for/ I found the Key but not the door/ Nothing more/ HeyeyeyIs there anybody home tonight?/ I can hear you on the other side/ But I can't get throughI say heyeyey/ There's no beginning, there's no end/ A vicious circle 'cause I cannot mend/ The love I feel for you.
Sunday, 3 May 2009
On the contrary, the idea of a dramatherapy that crystallises its process to turn it into theatre was taking shape. Founding it a r o u n d the Ionescian question of the Rhinoceros was the best possible choice. Not long ago, I was leisurely browsing one of those books you buy for a morbid curiosity and because it has been suggested to you: Theatre without a Director. It was suggested to me a couple of years ago by a representative of the European Association for Theatre Culture. The book itself has been written by the artistic director of this Association, Jurij Alschitz. Many passages of his text, so humanly autobiographic – an autobiography as search… - interested me, but one in particular summarised what I had been thinking for a while: “What I’m interested about in art not so much the final product, as the natural and spontaneous process that leads to it” (1). The idea of the artistic process as a process of truth, of hermeneutic research for a meaning to existence, so closely connected to what is creative in the shamanic vision, now showed me a further testimony. This director creates his/their theatre around the humanity of his actors; he bends destiny to the creative vision of what is happening and can be observed! And isn’t it Ionesco who states: “Je crois que la création artistique est spontanée!” [“I believe that artistic creation is spontaneous”](2)?
I have an ambition, my strongest and most challenging: giving again visible humanity to Ionesco’s characters. Let’s be clear: not that they need it! They exist like this, human ‘capsules’ sleeping between language and logic, fear and recklessness, quarrelling with life, born to interrogate, between a chasm and anarchy. What would happen if they go through the soul of our actor? We are not on stage, we are in the particular context of dramatherapy, in the virtual space in which the ‘as if’ meets delirium and memory, with lapse and action; in which tenacious training (long live Grotowsky!) measures - rather than containing - the distance between reality and trauma, between pain and drive for life. The crossing will take a new appearance, it will leave something behind and it will take something on again. It’s a cat-walk, often silent, amongst an audience that has not paid, because invisible; mates of another time and of other stories. Then the message of the avant-guarde: “L’avant-guarde, c’est la liberte’” (3) takes on a new, human character, which is able to think over the transformations and the changes…over its identity.
(1) Alschitz, Jurij (2007) Theatre without Director, Pisa: Titivillus (p.19)
(2) Ionesco, Eugène, Expérience du théatre, in Notes et contre-notes, Paris: Gallimard (p.48)
(3) Ionesco, Eugène, Discours sur l'avant-garde, in Notes et Contre-notes, Paris: Gallimard (p. 91)
Monday, 27 April 2009
Dramatherapy Workshop, Thursday 30th April the 30th 2009 , 8.30 pm
Outside totalitarianism and boundless liberalism, we find Ionesco’s invitation not to stop our search for our own meaning, freeing it from the apology of the individual and of their historical Babel, from the false reasons of freedom and of its limitation. It is a lesson in theatre and in life, artistic lyricism and aesthetics of reason. A workshop for professionals and not, through the enlightening vision of the playwright and with the scalpel of dramatherapy.
Directedby the psychotherapist E. Gioacchini, the actress N. Maroccolo, and the literary critic P. Perilli.
Free entrance, booking advised.
For info, call: (0039) 3403448785
Photo: Rhinoceros, by Albrecht Durer, 1915