As mentioned, Jacques Lecoq said we wear 3 manner of masks.
¬† The one we think we are,
¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† the one we actually are¬†&
¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† the one we hold in common.
¬†A pretty workable method of philosophic observation
¬†of humanity’s “being”.
Ecole Jacques Lecoq is a school.
A place to study.¬†To think. To discover.
To move. To be.
¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† Which is quite different from seeking approval via demonstrated subserviency.
¬†There one might assume the submissive posture for presentation …
but it would otherwise become valueless in the school’s evaluation of ones learning.
What I most appreciated about the Lecoq school is its philosophy of the kinetics of life and the consciousness of movement.
In certain areas of my travels these were not entertainment but the tools of survival.¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†
¬†¬†On a visit to the school,
I asked Fay if she would ask Jacques if I could photograph the Lecoq Neutral masks.
The next day, the mask simply arrived, on Jacques desk.¬†
I was left with them, the morning light, and Jacques coffee cup.¬†
Wordlessly undisturbed, till I was finished. I loved the shadows.
And here enters the mask. As a way of evaluating the honesty of movement and gesture.
Without the confusion of the facial expression.. It is also where the camera enters.
A true photograph performs similar function.
An opportunity to see what is happening without the other tool of facial deception: The word.
An antidote to the rabidity and general tastelessness
of the Limbaughs, O’Reilly’s,
&¬†the prostitutes of the evening news.
What they could learn from the Neutral mask is a State of Calm.
¬†I’ve been fascinated by the communications geometry of the face which contains our history of survival.
On a printed page, the viewer scans down a third to the area of the eye. First impression.
Then another third to the mouth … Growling or smiling?
Then like the Lecoq Pedagogy to the rest of the body to see if the expression is indeed true.
I found truthful experiences to be integrated in both movement and geometry.
Indeed, truthfulness fills space.¬†
¬†These were the perceptions I was working with when I met the Lecoqs.
This understanding of the stage is more pertinent than ever .
Now the computer screen is more like a stage than a page. A horizontal space of vertical activity.
I hope the Lecoq philosophy of understanding movement within space
will create ever more relevancy in the next portions of our communications journey.
When Jacques saw my sunrise aerial photograph of the Bucks County countryside framed by the blue wings of a 1938 biplane …
He said: “This is what we teach.”
A similar road was being traveled. (That photograph will begin the Bucks county Story soon).
¬†There are all kinds of masks. For years mine has been a camera. Often I photograph myself in mirrors.
Simply to see what I am saying to people.
A Cocteauian fantasy, perhaps. Years later, maybe I actually have fallen in to them.
¬†And Carlo, (below) at a Washington DC cafe, after a memorial service. With a¬† Satori mask of his own.¬†
Carlo ¬†too has passed into the mirror.
¬†¬†& Madame Fay Lecoq, at their former flat in the 16th quartier.
Now sold to buy the school building. After preparing a lunch full of memories, seasoned with kindness,
at Jacques desk in their home, with the original Satori maquette.
¬†If memory serves, Jacques posed the question:
¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† “What would one neutral mask say to another neutral mask? Nothing!”
¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† And the remedy for bad cabaret in these times is surely silence.¬†
¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† When really, there is nothing more to say.
¬†"More Masks " was photographed, ¬†written & composed by H. Scott Heist and is his property. ¬© H. Scott Heist 09.¬† All rights are reserved world wide
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