Why classical myth and autism?

Why classical myth and autism?

The idea for this project started to take shape at a meeting in 2008 with a special needs teacher, who mentioned that, in her experience and those of her colleagues, autistic children often enjoy classical myth. I began to wonder why this might be the case, and whether – as a classicist who researches, and loves, classical myth – there was anything I could contribute. I started this blog to report on my progress which was often sporadic until the launch of the Warsaw-based European Research Council-funded project Our Mythical Childhood (2016-22) to trace the role of classics in children’s culture.

My key contribution to the project is an exploration of classics in autistic children’s culture, above all by producing myth-themed activities for autistic children. This blog shares my progress, often along Herculean paths, including to a book of lessons for autistic children focusing on the Choice of Hercules between two very different paths in life. The image above, illustrating the homepage of this blog, is one of the drawings by Steve K. Simons, the book's illustrator, of a chimneypiece panel in a neoclassical villa at Roehampton in South West London. The lessons centre on this panel.
Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts

Monday, 29 May 2023

Getting ready to look back - and ahead - by sharing five publication covers

I have just been drafting a blog posting that reflects on my writing processes and on my PhD supervisor. It reflects, too, on fellow alumni from where I did my BA before that. These fellow alumni are, like me, academics with interests that include autism. 

I am not ready yet to write up the posting including because I have not yet worked out how to conclude it. For now though - including to help tie me in to completing it - here are the covers of five publications discussed in the posting:

Revisiting Rape in Antiquity cover Sites of Resistanceissue cover imageFront CoverThe Original Learning Approach

More ASAP...

Thursday, 18 May 2023

Plan B: slides for Fairer Societies

I was wondering about the best Plan B in case the slides I've emailed ahead of an event I'm taking part in on Saturday don't get through for some reason. Then I had this idea: put them into a blog post...

Here they are: they are for the workshop "Ancient World Studies and Fairer Societies" and, like several other taking part, I'll be talking about working with young people who are in PRUs (Pupil Referral Units). In my previous posting, I said a little about the event.

The labels for this postings seek to convey the range of things that I plan to mention prompted by these slides...








Thursday, 30 March 2023

Autism Acceptance Week – Thursday… ‘What Isadora Duncan knew: Athena as Dance Movement Therapist in ancient Greek art’


File:Brooklyn Museum - Isadora Duncan 29 - Abraham Walkowitz.jpg
Abraham Walkowitz, Isadora Duncan #29, c. 1915.
W
ater and ink over graphite, Brooklyn Museum 39.174,
retrieved from Wikimedia Commons

A formative period for me while I was very much in the formative stages of being interested in connecting autism and classical myth was when I took a week-long dramatherapy course run by the Arts Therapies team at Roehampton.

It was an experience that went differently than I had expected. I had imagined us sitting in rows making notes from sessions led by the tutor. In fact, however, to introduce us to dramatherapy, we were all immersed in it as though we were clients. It was a deeply personal, sometimes difficult and transformative time.

Then, about a year later, I signed up for another course run by the same team on autistic bodies and movement. I was excited and was feeling some anxiety too about what would happen – but what happened was that the course was cancelled. So I never got to know.

Since then, however, movement and autism has been something I have been wanting to find out more about. And already, I have seen that it is when people copy the gestures of Hercules, Pleasure and Hard Work - on the panel that is key to the autism activities I have developed so far - that they move to a deeper level of engagement.

Carter Workshop, Chimneypiece panel depicting Hercules tasked
with choosing between Pleasure and Hard Work, Adam Room, Grove House,
Roehampton. Photo by Marina Arcady

I am soon going to be writing a paper that might enable me to gain an understanding of some of what might be involved. I am going to be spending several days in Coimbra in Portugal in July, participating in the Celtic Classics Conference. The panel I’ll be part of is Religious Movement in Ancient Mediterranean Art’, convened by two inspirational ancient religion and art scholars Ellie Mackin Roberts and Tyler Jo Smith. What prompted me to offer a paper was especially one of the features in the Call for Papers which was that ritualised movement would connect participants and the deities being worshipped. Reading this, I wondered what could be brought into play – pun not intended, but I can’t think of a better way to put it… - when it is the god who is dancing.

I proposed a paper that employs Dance Movement Theory to examine the role of dace when on particular ancient deity, Athena, is being depicted or imagined as a dancer.

File:Amphora birth Athena Louvre F32.jpg

Athena emerging from the of Zeus, Attic black-figure belly amphora, c. 550-525 BCE 
belly amphora, 
now in the Louvre, Paris F 32. Retrieved from Wikimedia Commons

Here is the paper I proposed: 

What Isadora Duncan knew: Athena as Dance Movement Therapist in ancient Greek art

As noted in the Call for Papers, ritualised movement connects participants and the divinities being worshipped. But what about when it is the divinity that dances? Employing Dance/Movement Theory – where a client and a therapist engage in an empathetic process to facilitate the physical, emotional, social and cognitive integration of the individual – this paper will explore the significance of dance in relation to Athena. This is a deity whose dancing challenges prevailing assumptions about this god as a deity of ‘mind’ whose very theonym is, indeed, derived from ‘mind of god’ in Plato’s Kratylos. But, as this paper explores, there is already the ‘other name’, Pallas, derived in the same dialogue from frenzied, frantic pulsations. 
The paper will explore how Athena enacts a divine movement suggesting an instance of what Isadora Duncan knew: that ‘dance is the movement of the universe concentrated in an individual’, above all when Athena is depicted emerging from the head – the mind indeed – of another making furious, violent movements. The paper will start with images of Athena dancing herself into being. It will then turn to depictions of a frantically moving Athena at the Gigantomachy. Finally it will explore images of worshippers dancing like – or, better, as – the deity, suggesting a reconfiguration of space and time where the act of worship is creating the god, and where the god (therapist) and worshipper (client) are joined in an intensely empathetic creative moment.

Writing this posting has helped me to feel ready to get started – as has what I was writing about in the chapter draft of the book I mentioned yesterday. I was looking, among other things, at the play the Lysistrata, where the women of Athens go on sex strike and occupy the Akropolis – the home of Athena’s key sanctuary in the city. The play ends with a dance of joy where the final of a series of deities to be evoked to conclude the performance is… Athena.

More planned tomorrow...


Tuesday, 28 March 2023

I am not sure whether this is actually true: Autism Acceptance Week – Tuesday… From Richard Burton, to the autism test, to forcefields

I am not sure whether this is actually true, but I remember hearing decades ago that Richard Burton would never watch a performance of himself. I’m not sure why – perhaps it was because otherwise he would be constrained. Perhaps he preferred to be in the moment, like a stage actor.

And so, I’m not sure why, and I’m not even sure whether this memory of something I recall hearing while a child is accurate. But it’s been something I remember, because it resonates, I think, with how I feel about my practice as someone who has been ‘in the moment’ a lot – teaching, delivering papers…

I used to freeze were I recorded, let alone filmed, and I do not feel comfortable speaking to any group if a door is open. Then zoom-teaching came along with Covid, and recording sessions because normalised pretty quickly. When I started teaching remotely and running events that way, pressing the record button – and later watching things back – became part of my practice. And I felt surprisingly okay with it, however much watching an earlier version of me, if only from a short while earlier, seemed strange.

I’ve had the video recording of a remote talk I gave a few months ago on my autism-myth project for a while but could not bring myself to look at it until recently - and it’s okay! - although I do say ‘um’ a lot because I’m never reading a script but talking in the moment – responding to the ‘room’. And one thing that helps me feel a sense of ‘connect’, I find, is the chat facility.

Screenshot from zoom talk - an earlier one (likely in 2021 or early 2022)
from the one mentioned in this posting

I noticed during lockdown that autistic people sometimes like zoom chat. For my part, I tend to be pretty active there during any session I’ve joined – otherwise, I can’t really process what I’m hearing. It’s a substitute for the feeling of ‘presence’ of in-person events, I think.

Anyway, as well as reviewing the video, I have been looking at the saved zoom chat from during the event including from where I asked participants, if they wanted, to introduce themselves. Some participants shared their experiences of autism including as autistic people and one participants said something that resonated when they introduced themselves via the metaphor of being bilingual – that is of speaking autism and speaking like a neurotypical person, coming I think, from having been negotiating a neurotypical world as an autistic person who had no idea that they were autistic – when then had no idea, until, I think, their children’s diagnosis as autistic that they could be autistic when they didn’t fit the images of autistic standardly put out.

I will develop this later. But, writing about how far an autistic person ‘has’ autistic traits has got me thinking about the ‘autism test’ which Simon Baron Cohen devised and which, last time I looked, was available online. You answer a set of questions by ticking four options ranging from ‘very’ one thing to ‘very not’ the same and end up with a score that puts you in a category of very, to potentially, to not autistic.

Has anyone reading this taken this test? If so, how many times? I’ve taken it several times, firstly years back, because I guess I had been buying into a view that autism, as the ‘spectrum’ it was generally then seen as, could be pinned down, as though each person could be found somewhere in a scale from ‘very’ to ‘not’.

Anyway, each time I have done it, I have got a different score. So what does this mean? Does this say something about the test, or about myself and how I connect with a world I’m in or not in?

I always loved forcefields as a child... they would figure from time to time on tv shows I’d watch – at least this is how I remember it - and I’m increasingly finding the forcefield image a helpful one to convey what it’s like to move in the world while feeling apart from it.

Later, this Autism Acceptance Week, I shall build on the thread that has been running though this posting of being in/not in worlds by writing about a way of conceptualising what it is to be autistic, and non-autistic. This is Double Empathy Theory.

More tomorrow…

Friday, 3 March 2023

Why this blog is like my garden

Pleasure's garden - detail of Steve Simons' redrawing
of Choice of Hercules panel, Adam Room, Roehampton, London

I've said a few times over the years on this blog that autism isn't about a week in March/April - or indeed a whole month. It's always there - a way of being. But, still, there's something about a particular occasion that gives a focal point - a fixed point - a sense of structure. 

And so, I'm going to spend this March and April blogging after a break: a break when I have been seriously active, including:

  • Doing the final things to my book of Hercules-themed lessons for autistic children to lift it out of produce, most recently working on the index. The book will be out this year and I'm...
  • Planning the next mythological phrase, again based around a mythological figure, the identity of whom I'll announce soon, perhaps during Autism Acceptance Week.
  • Reading some wonderful books by autistic and neurodivergent authors including Nick Walker's Neuroqueer Heresies and a Kind of Spark by Elle McNicoll
  • Drafting quite a few postings for this blog which I'd better start typing up (I always write long-hand first).

There's more: but that'll do for now like when I pause for and from gardening at the moment. The garden had got away from me but, for the last two weeks I've been out there for half an hour to an hour most weekdays and it's becoming mine...

Thursday, 17 May 2018

'When you come to a fork in the road, take it' - A Choice of Hercules workshop at Life is Cool, a café managed by autistic people in Warsaw

I had been a little concerned that the paper I was to deliver in Warsaw yesterday was a little out there. It is Herculean. It runs with the metaphor of the crossroads. It pauses for a moment with Jacques Brel and it makes a brief consideration of the metis of Jogi Berra. But the experience of actually delivering it was ‘out there’ on a whole other level.

Firstly, we arrived late at the venue, a café called Life is Cool which is managed by autistic staff. This lateness was owing to travel disruption and sudden bad weather. While waiting for our colleagues who still hadn’t left the previous venue, let alone got into a taxi and joined the traffic jam across Warsaw, I reversed the order of the session and began with the interactive activity before I’d actually explained what lay behind it. The (incredible - it merits a posting in its own right) picture accompanying this posting was done by one of the participants.

When our colleagues were still stuck at the previous venue, I began, sadly, without them. There were several pauses as people arrived, and each time, I went back over the material for those who’d joined us. The final group arrived just as I’d finished. I’m going to set out here a written-up version of the paper from my notes for yesterday. This is so that those present can experience it as I’d more or less intended – as can anyone else who might be interested.

But, in fact, the disruption led to something that was probably better in terms of how the activity worked and in terms of the depth I was able to go into – and in terms of the depth in which people were able to respond. The discussion, indeed, was the best that I have ever experienced after any paper I have given. I’ll write about that in a subsequent posting. For now, here is the beginning-middle-activity-ending version, Brel, Berra and all.

I’d like to say first that it’s an honour to be here – in this city I’m in love with, amid Our Mythical Childhood participants – a ‘family’ – and here, in Life is Cool. It has been my dream for ten years now to produce materials that might speak to autistic people. I have started producing materials, and now, today, I am realising my dream of presenting them in space that is marked out as autistic.

Often, autistic people devote energy to trying to work within non-autistic space. Here we have an example of the opposite being the case - of a space for all where autism is at the centre. Thank you to Katarzyna Marciniak – and the café – for making this happen – for bringing us to this intersection.

It is also an honour to be here as part of events under the aegis of ‘Where the past meets the future’ and where it does this as part of ‘our heritage.’ This inclusive title captures something that I want to explore, namely that heritage can be for everyone, and this can include those for whom access to culture that many share can be a challenge.

Our heritage can be a heritage that embraces everyone, irrespective of such factors as class background, or gender, or disability or ability. It is apt, then, that we are gathering under the ‘aegis’ of Medusa, our ‘spokesmonster’ as Katarzyna Marciniak puts it in the blurb for this week’s events. Medusa is an everyone, an everymonster, figure. Medusa is the ultimate image of otherness and also of self. Medusa is also an image of victimhood and of empowerment, an image of disability and of ability, and of disability as ability.

When our project began, I was envisaging a set of activities around the Medusa story – including mask-making. And this is something that I plan to do in the future. For the first set of activities, I determined instead on an episode in the career of… Hercules. I shall talk today about 'why Hercules?', and I’ll introduce the activities that I have put together.

“Where the past meets the future…” we are at an intersection point – or a crossroads. My title is “at every crossroads” – it’s a translation of French – “à chaque carrefour” from Jacques Brel’s Quand on n’a que l’amour, from the verse:

Quand on n’a que l’amour
Pour tracer un chemin
Et forcer la destin
À chaque carrefour

When we have only love 
To trace a path
And force destiny
At every crossroads

Getting to a crossroads involves making a choice – between different paths, metaphorical or otherwise. The choice in question might be a stark one, in two divergent directions. Why I have been talking so much about crossroads is as follows – the activities I have designed are based around a particular moment in the mythic life of Hercules, namely when he reaches a crossroads, a carrefour.

He is a young man not sure, yet, what direction to take. He gets to a lonely place when two women appear, goddesses perhaps, and offer him a choice. He could take the path signalled by one of them, which will involve a life of ease and pleasure and abundance,  and plenty of food and drink and indeed access to all pleasures. Or he could take the path signalled by the other woman. This will be a path of ‘virtue’ or hard work. There will be rewards at the end, but only after toil and pain and suffering.

I have picked this episode because it is rich in potential for engaging an autistic way of thinking. In very broad terms. Hercules, like many mythological figures, has huge potential for engaging autistic people. For instance, he is frequently an outsider – at home in the borderlands but out of place in society. Indeed, when he is in society – when he returns home or arrives at some city – his behaviour can be inappropriate. Yet Hercules also has a richly exciting life. He is ever coming up against obstacles and overcoming them.

Being autistic is often seen as about encountering hardships. Hercules can speak to this aspect of an autistic experience. Being autistic is also about a different way of thinking – a different way of being. Hercules can speak too to this autistic experience.

These two aspects of Hercules come into play in the particular artefact on which my first set of activities is based. It is an eighteenth-century panel depicting Hercules engaged in reflection on the two paths he is invited to choose between. It is in an eighteenth-century ‘showpiece’ room at the University of Roehampton, where I work – and one thing I am hoping to do at some point is, actually, to welcome people to that room to engage in activities with the artefact, not least because the closer one looks, the more one can draw from it. The ‘Choice of Hercules’ was a talking point for the eighteenth century, where those receiving it were encouraged to use it to reflect on where they stand between competing paths.

In the activities, I take the user through the episode. There is an optional introductory activity for those who have not yet ‘met’ Hercules. This uses works that figure/will figure in Our Mythical Survey, launched just yesterday, ranging from books to music to pillow-fight cushions and to Playmobil and Lego minifigures.

Then there are activities that take the user through the episode: from the arrival at a strange place, to noticing certain things about the place, to noticing the two women. There are activities where users reflect on what the hero might be experiencing in his interactions with each woman. There are also activities which reflect on things from the perspective of the two women – and on how they seek to engage him. Then, finally, we move to the hero’s choice.

What choice does he make? Usually it’s thought to be the path of… virtue and the life of hardship. But this is not necessarily the case. On the panel, Hercules turns his head to Virtue, but his body to Pleasure/Vice and Hercules is the great lover of life, of food drink and sex.

The late Yogi Berra, the baseball player and coach, is known for his wisdom – a sideways wisdom, a wisdom of metis. His quotations are worthy of Heraclitus – where impossibilities are combined – where they exist in one another. He also said: ‘when you come to a fork in the road, take it.’

Hercules chooses one path – he chooses the other path. There is rich potential for exploring different perspectives on a given issue. And for thinking about how the present can turn into the future.

As the activities progress, features of the scene gradually come to be introduced – Hercules appears, then the landscape, then the women. For today, I began by showing the whole artefact. But in the activities, it will be introduced gradually – and this will help avoid overloading the users. It is a richly detailed image, with very many things going on, such as in terms of its vegetation, and in terms of the objects present – such as a drinking vessel, a helmet, a snake and bowls of fruit. What I would like to do now is get you thinking about your responses to the artefact – via activities that have a fit with those I have devised.

I would like you to pick part of the artefact and colour it in. You can do it in groups – or alone – as you prefer. Or - do your own drawing if you would like. Alternatively, you can trace the scene or one of its figures. You can use stickers if you would like, including the emojis… I discuss using emojis in the activities as described on the blog, to encourage the students to think about how Hercules – or the women – might be feeling. Is he happy, for instance, or worried. Or the users could move, where suited, to more complex emojis – ‘cold sweat’ for instance, or ‘smiling and sweating.’ You can also, if you would like, draw something based round the image: a flower for example.

And also, if you would like, write something in this – a guest book. This is something that I have been inspired to start by the work of Zena Kamash of Royal Holloway University. In her work with people from Middle Eastern communities, she includes a guest book. People are encouraged to write in their thoughts, and do drawings if they would like. Draw Hercules if you’d like – or stick in your tracing etc., or draw something based around the image. Do it straight into the book, or on paper, or a post-it that we can stick in later. Or write words that strike you onto labels. Sign it – or don’t! - as you prefer.

In conclusion, the activities are intended to be inclusive and thought-provoking. I hope that they offer an opportunity to think about such matters as how the present turns into the future, how to cope with new scenarios and change, and how to engage in decision making. They offer a gateway to classical myth and culture. They also open up a gateway between two worlds, 'autistic' and 'non-autistic'. The activities have a serious purpose. They are also intended to be fun. Indeed, as we have been discussing regularly over the past few days at these meetings and workshops for the Mythical Childhood project where play stops and serious work begins can – or should – be fluid.