Getting Started

When a group of young children enters an empty space, irrespective of whether that space is familiar or unfamiliar to them, they immediately see it as an opportunity waiting to be exploited. They spontaneously rush about to all corners of the room, shrieking and laughing at the joy of having room to move freely – to release their energy – all this within a space that appears to them to be an open invitation to decide for themselves how to behave. Adults coming into a large space tend to behave in an entirely different way: instead of claiming the space by immediately moving freely within it, they gravitate to its furthest extremes, standing still, backs to the walls, eyes and bodies betraying anxiety and hesitation. To them the open space represents a problem; individuals feel exposed, and if there are any chairs available adults will grab them, eager to take the opportunity of inhabiting a confined space where they can cautiously wait to see what will happen to them.

Why is there such a marked difference of behaviour in this situation between adults and children? Obviously the self-consciousness of the former has a lot to do with it, but there is something more. Most adults are unfamiliar travellers in the landscapes of public spaces. When, occasionally, we find ourselves in a cathedral, a sports stadium or a theatre our behaviour is highly regulated by convention and protocol. We are not normally encouraged to wander freely in that space, but instead to occupy a limited part of it (we don't go on to the pitch, or the stage, and we aren't encouraged to sit on the altar). 'Our' space, and our role within it, is different and separate from that of the players, priests or actors. All of us know (roughly) how we are expected to behave and what our role is. However, when we first enter the unmapped space of a theatre workshop we do not normally know what is expected of us. Unlike a church, a theatre or a stadium, the space is not clearly demarcated by lighting or architecture that might help us. The function commonly associated with the workshop space (it could be a school hall, a scout hut or a rehearsal room at a theatre) gives us conflicting clues as to how we should behave within it. It is almost certainly going to be unfamiliar; or at least, if it is familiar to some people (it may be their school hall), the familiarity arises from a very different context in which they play a very different role.

In order to cope with the new space and the as-yet-unknown demands of the workshop, we immediately begin by establishing the symbolic limits of our territory, our personal space. If we insist over the next few hours on policing that territory rigorously, keeping others literally and metaphorically at arm's length, then opportunities for sharing the possibilities of what the group can achieve in that space are going to be severely curtailed. Far from making use of the time and space the workshop presents to relax and open up to other people, if we are not careful, our instinctive fears will close it down. The workshop leader has to devise a strategy for meeting the challenge to personal space represented by the workshop. If he or she fails, far from liberating the participants as it does their children, the space will disempower them by heightening self-consciousness and feelings of inadequacy about how to behave socially.

Preparation

We shall look here at the basic setting-up of a workshop and the vital business of getting started. Subsequent chapters look in more detail at particular areas of workshop material and practice.

Personal Space: 'Don't Crowd Me!'

Adults have few opportunities of acting out any part of their lives in large spaces, whether indoors or outdoors, public or private. Our homes, offices and places of work are relatively modest in size, filled with objects such as tables, desks and chairs that make the space feel even smaller. We are very sensitive to what we regard as our personal space, our own room, office, desk, even 'our' seat on the bus or train to work each day. If that space is invaded – say our home is burgled or something as trivial as our seat being taken happens – we may feel personally violated and angry. That feeling is multiplied many times over in prison. In Brixton prison, where even the lavatory doors have two-foot gaps at top and bottom, the men attach enormous significance to their few jealously guarded moments of privacy. Helping them to share the limited space provided in the prison for rehearsals of Hamlet (rehearsals usually took place in the prison chapel) was always challenging.

All of us, in whatever situation we live and work, have an even more personal and intimate symbolic space that we jealously guard. If you imagine a spotlight shining down from somewhere immediately above your head, the pool of light it spreads on the floor around you is analogous to that intimate space. This is the area you reserve as your territory, into which intrusion is normally unwelcome. The size of the area is fluid, but the bigger you make the pool, the more personal space you feel you need. In situations where individuals feel comfortable and at ease in the company of other people, they will have a smaller pool and allow others to come physically close to them. In other more formal situations, and at work when individuals are on their guard, the pool extends sometimes by a considerable distance. Perhaps its existence is tacitly recognized by one of the more familiar gestures of greeting exercised in a formal setting: the handshake. When you move to shake the hand of another person, what you are doing is extending your hand outwards from your body to signify the edge of your personal space. There, in the boundary between your space and that of others, you meet and greet strangers. Where greater intimacy and corresponding trust exists – for example, when people genuinely hug one another – the pool may dissolve entirely.

Checking out the Room

Given that the nature and size of the space chosen is always going to be significant, if you are planning a workshop, start by checking out the space you will be using. Then at least you will know what to expect, and have immediate answers to those small but significant first questions, such as: 'Where are the lavatories?' 'Can we get a coffee?' You may also avoid some of the initial problems of having to get people up on to their feet by ensuring in advance that, if there are chairs in the space, you move them, to prevent them from becoming the day's first obstacle. If the space is overlooked, try to find something – a curtain, blind, anything in fact – that will help make it more private.

Space and Numbers

You should try to find out the approximate number of people expected so that you can anticipate the warm-up exercises, and plan accordingly. To make a generalization, twenty is a good number for a workshop. It enables everyone to feel they are an integral part of the event, and there are...