A Rush of Nausea

And with a rush of nausea the award ceremony season is upon us. Our days are darkening as they lengthen. BAFTA, to their credit, place Stephen Fry as a gatekeeper – if his introduction doesn’t cause you psychic damage nothing beyond can harm you. I turn off.

Geese Theatre won a BAFTA in 1988 for a CD-ROM they made together with Jubilee Arts. As I understand it they took to the stage approximately one day and eight hours before Robert Carlyle, Judi Dench and the rest. They then found they had to pay for their trophy because Jubilee wanted one too and BAFTA only give one away free.

Awards Ceremony as Marketing Opportunity is a concept now fully assimilated. Arvo is our sleeper, he’s been in on these things across the corporate world and reported back; golden envelopes are everywhere. To those who have shalt be given more – the winners will win again for winning.

The Teaching Awards remains the only televised ceremony that has warmed my heart, each winner genuinely humble and proud to represent those who could or should have been them.

Of course there are theatre awards out there, fistfights disguised as beauty contests, some snuggling up against television and film, part of the same corporate/industrial axis, others, left of the field, vying for attention by venerating themselves. Of course whilst resolutely un-nominated and un-honoured it’s easy be righteous, let’s see how the tune changes should we ever see gilt on the horizon.

In fact, a video we made with Fox Hollies School got nominated for a tiny award years ago. I had no compunction about attending. A day out in London with Carl and Jameela was impossible to decline. It was fantastic to be there with them seeing the sights, they were excited to be up for an award. We had explored the possibility of not winning, Carl had thought it crazy talk but afterwards, when we hadn’t won, he announced that it was sad but that we should be proud just to be nominated. It was a good lesson well learnt.


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