So Michael Rosen is talking about it. Jude Law is talking about it. Even Julian Lloyd Webber, Greyson Perry and Danny Boyle are in on the act. What is it that they are all gossiping about? This is not your average mundane Hollywood gossip, but something that might affect the education of future generations and more importantly the future of art in this country, the EBacc or English Baccalaureate. So we thought we might dust of our soap box, step up and say a few words…

It has long been a criticism of the education system that children are spoon fed – that they are merely taught to regurgitate information for their exams and coursework. Students are not educated enough about the basics in order to effectively use language, numeracy and common sense later on in the workplace. There is never going to be an easy solution to this. I, (Katy from the Filskit ladies) know I am not alone when I say I am not confident with grammar. I rely on spell check and wish I could speak a foreign language.  So it is clear that something needs fixing. However, is this really the fault of the GCSE? Is it worth placing absolute emphasis on these basics at the sacrifice of arts and culture?

Well, I guess you can predict our response… NO! Having worked in and around schools since graduation, and, in fact, our time at school not being that long ago, the immense pressure on students and teachers to achieve high scores at exam time is apparent and it is making what is taught at schools a little skewed. As children are increasingly told that without brilliant grades they will not succeed, they will focus on getting that A or A*, rather than contemplating the fully rounded richness that an education can offer. Needless to say, in order for this education to be well rounded, it needs to be exploring all aspects of learning, including creative learning and the arts.

Personally I am not convinced that the English Baccalaureate will solve any problems. Teachers, not through lack of skill or want, but due to pressure, will continue to teach to the order of the content of an exam, regardless of whether it is called an EBacc or a GCSE. Furthermore, I do not think you can underestimate the damage to those currently taking GCSEs. I have already heard young people question the point of taking GCSEs on the grounds that they are worthless to a government and society that lambasts them. It appears that Gove has a pair of rose tinted glasses that he likes to pop on, and look at how his education has brought him to the successful place that he is now in, as he looks for future generations to replicate it. Well he mustn’t forget those other success stories of people with little or no education.

Now I come to the importance of arts in the EBacc. I understand some people’s cries to keep the arts out, as it cannot be quantified through examination, like science or mathematics. However, I believe there are important reasons why they should be included. Firstly, it is important in the recognition and status of art in Britain’s culture. By sidelining the arts you are stating that they are not integral to an education. People in arts and education have been battling for years for colleagues and parents alike to understand the importance of the arts as subjects in their own rights and not just as a means for exploring other topics.

Secondly, introduction to the arts at a young age can not only encourage innovation and exploration, but can lead many talented people into the arts industry who might otherwise follow alternative careers. The arts can be used to engage children, teenagers and adults in a way that encourages freedom of thought, expression of ideas and a deeper understanding of each other.

Finally, as it stands, artistic subjects are inclusive and participants are involved and encouraged, regardless of grades and exam results: you don’t need an A* in maths to be creative, you need an imagination – something which should be nurtured in people of all backgrounds, irrespective of whether they can afford to enjoy the arts as something extra-curricular. All these are qualities which are not merely desirable in a society, but are absolutely necessary.

I’m going home…

…briefly. Returning to the city that spawned me this weekend to bask in the affection of my doting family and the adoration of the Prodigal returned. Well, Mum’s ordering pizza, anyway…

Tough times are emerging. The elements of my first term are converging to form the dreaded behemoth known as ‘ASSESSMENT WEEK’ and I’m feeling the strain. It’s not unbearable – I actually thrive quite well in stressful situations – but at the moment I’m a walking to-do list with rehearsals coming out of my ears (and several other orifices). Meisner continues to work its charm. I’ve had two formal Meisner assessments now and I’m optimistic that my third of four will go well. Maybe. I fear that perhaps readers have misconstrued my criticsm of Meisner in the past and wish to clarify that it’s not the method I am criticising nor the man, just my experience thus far.

I’m flexing creative at the moment. One thing I love about school (moan though I do, on occasion) is the level of creativity we are allowed to exercise. None of my final assessments are choreographed by my tutors and are based solely on what I want to create, which has been a boon. It’s wonderful to be incredibly arch and pretentious AND get credit. So, although in some ways I struggle to articulate exactly what I’m learning in school, I am aware that being given the time to be expressive in a way that would be a luxury in the profession is wonderful.

Lots to do, which means that this weekend at home is going to be an oasis of calm in an otherwise choppy sea. Actually, that’s not true. Aside from all my school work, I now have the added burden of Christmas to deal with – and being skint, this ain’t no joke. I’m now clutching at straws for money and debating selling my organs. Although I do actually have a job, the demands of school and general tiredness mean I’m having to turn down much more work than I can accept, leaving me with a grand total of 20 pounds profit for the month of November. Hope no one’s expecting Dior – even Poundland is starting to look extravagant…

Money is tricky. Being an (im)mature student, I’m used to earning regular cash, so to go from a steady income to zilch is difficult on a day-to-day level. (Who knew skimmed milk for 45p would seem so much? I’ve had to take to a life of crime, stealing mini milk cartons from the coffee shop at school and concealing them about my person. I live in daily terror that I’m going to be rumbled.)

I probably could work a little more than I am, but being so tired all the time from school (‘good exhausted’ as we’re encouraged to call it, which seems akin to ‘acceptable torture’ or ‘reasonable genocide’) I don’t want to take on more shifts to add to this. Seems to me I have a ‘duty’ to my course and to making the most of it  – the last thing I want to do is risk sleeping my way through training.

Oh – I almost forgot to mention. I appear to be in a relationship, dear reader (I’m sure I owe Jane Austen royalties for overuse of this phrase) – not with the aforementioned tall dark stranger of previous blogs, but someone new – a foreign performer, no less. It’s going very well so far, thanks for asking, and I’m smugly happy. *contented sigh*. That being said, part of me is thinking “Great. More Christmas presents to buy…”

Anyways, better sign off. The train home is calling.

Image by 401(K) 2012

…you shouldn’t have fallen in love with? Ugh. I’m an adult, right? Refocusing my acting career at the Unidentified School of Showbiz Dreams? So why am I spending my precious days falling for people I really shouldn’t be? It really is very inconvenient to find yourself attracted to people young enough to be your slightly immature cousin. It’s times like this that being older in this environment really bites.

But enough of the Bridget Jones impersonation. You find me at the start of ‘reading week’, that yearned-for week of alleged rest in which to realign and rejuvenate the aching body and the overtaxed mind. I have responded by going home and throwing my washing on the mercy of my mother. Heaven knows I could do with the break. Big surprise – drama school is intense. Not unmanageably so, but intense nonetheless.

So. End of my first half-term and I’m very happy and settled – in many ways a preferable state to that first flush of…er, love. There are classes I prefer, of course, and certain classes I dread (why hello, Meisner) but on the whole, I seem to be doing well. My whole class have effectively ‘performed’ in front of one another now, revisiting our audition pieces (text and singing) with the benefit of what we’ve learnt so far and I’ve had some great feedback, which is gratifying and something of a ‘phew-you-don’t-think-you’ve-made-a-mistake-in-accepting-me-then’ moment. It’s been nerve-wracking, but in a nurturing way – there’s a care that comes from the tutors and from my fellow students that I wasn’t necessarily expecting, but which is very welcome. It’s also the way I prefer to work – I have never thrived on pressure and being ‘forced’, but like to be coaxed.

Re: Meisner (see above), things may be looking up. The ante has been officially upped and next half-term, we’re moving on from simple circumstance exercises to progressively more important and affecting ones, which should be interesting. Incidentally, I’ve been lucky enough to witness the second years in their Meisner classes, and much hilarity ensues from watching them running up and down the stairs in character in order to enter the scene with appropriate energy à la Uta Hagen.

This past week has also been the first week of performances for the third years. Me and my uber-tall dark(ish) and handsome(ish) non-stranger (the aforementioned inappropriate crush) have been to see a number of shows and I have been mightily impressed. It’s kind of a relief, I guess, to witness the most advanced students in the school and recognise that they are good – excellent, in fact. Another ‘phew’ moment.

Finally, our fortnightly visit to my flat and the colourful characters who reside there. We (I say we, I mean they) threw a party last night which was promptly shut down by the police, who also cut our electricity to prevent it starting up again. I was ashamed to realise that, to me, the most intolerable consequence of this was that I wouldn’t be able to have a cup of tea before bed. Pipe and slippers, anyone?
Image by IYLIAA.

Hola. You join me knee-deep in freshers. Not literally of course. Well…

Suffice it to say that I’m here and I’m… making the most of my leisure time. In a manner befitting a person of my advancing years.

It’s truly been a whirlwind of a fortnight. When last we spoke, I was preparing to move house and join the cast of National Lampoon in a house share. Flash-forward two weeks and I’ve moved, enrolled – and started my classes. It’s been a turnaround worthy of a cabinet reshuffle. Phew.

It’s been an odd experience to become so instantly immersed in a whole new life. Aside from minor dramas with the housemates (the details of which I won’t go into, except to say that sex, drugs and a copious amount of Pepto Bismol have featured prominently), I’m enjoying life in the flat. True, I have been shocked by certain behaviours and events which have transpired (promiscuity, casual substance abuse, beasti… joking), but I’m also no prude – I watch Skins. I can see an appreciation of “FREEDOM” a mile off and luckily am able to help pick up the pieces and offer some of the wisdom (!) of years, without coming across like a heavily starched school matron. Mostly. Although, I do have a lovely apron, which I’ve needed – the kitchen is a disgrace.

Housing aside, it’s been straight in at Unnamed Drama School with meet and greets, introduction to the course and then getting right on and “doing it”. Phew. As much as I appreciate the “uni experience, dude”, I didn’t sign up for university. I want drama school – and drama school I have certainly got.

First day. Picture me: slightly sweaty and extremely hungover. Let’s… be bored rigid in a lecture hall. For seven hours. To be fair, I understand the necessity of formalities, but not on a Monday morning when, following the previous night’s fun and frolics, 95% of the student body is still rediscovering its basic motor skills.

First day notwithstanding, it’s been straight on with the show. I’ve really had to put my best foot forward in terms of meeting my new classmates and strike a balance between not behaving like a recycled teenager and attending enough social events to avoid ostracising myself from the group – already older, I don’t want to be invisible. So far, I’ve been successful. I’ve been very impressed with how focused and driven everyone is already. These kids like to party, but they also care about the craft of acting and seem deeply committed to it. Also, I’m not the oldest person in class – yay.

Classes, on the whole, have been fun. The course is structured around a number of basic modules (movement, voice – must stop smoking – fundamentals of acting, contextual studies, dance and singing – I’ll talk more specifically about these in blogs to come) and I’ve now experienced at least one class in each of these disciplines. Oh yes, it’s full on. And so it should be: £9,000 a year and an international reputation as a top CDS school demand it.

So far, so good – I’m shrugging off bad habits as I go. In truth, I tend to be quite an introverted person and I find it hard to open up and embrace new things before I feel comfortable with the group as a whole. That being said, I don’t want the reputation of the ‘shy guy’, so I’m throwing myself into it. Luckily, all my classmates seem very nice and supportive, so I’ve decided to just ‘go for it’ and embrace looking and feeling like an idiot at least 50% of the time (example – today’s movement class – my “ribcage won’t behave”. No, I don’t understand either).

Regardless, I’m in love. Truly. With the school, with the classes – with my new life in general. I absolutely adore it all so far and am so convinced I made the right choice.  Awww.

Give it two weeks, though, and the gloves may well be off.

Image via Fresh Meat Facebook page.