I'm a Phoenix, Bitch

Bryony Kimmings

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9781350258679
• eBook ISBN: 9781786825896
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Performance Art
• Index: Social Sciences

Bryony Kimmings creates multi-platform art works which aim to provoke change. Through script and photographs this book documents the show I'm a Phoenix, Bitch, Kimmings' personal response to the trauma of having post-natal breakdown.

In 2016, Bryony nearly drowned. Postnatal breakdowns, an imploding relationship and an extremely sick child left her sitting beneath the waves hoping she could slowly turn to shell.

Two years later she was able to deal with life again, but wears the scars of that year like a dark and heavy cloak. Who do we become after trauma? How do we turn pain into power? How do we fly instead of drown?

Bryony Kimmings returned to performance in 2018 with her first solo show in nearly a decade. A mythical legend performed straight from a heart still pulsing with pain. Combining personal stories with epic film, soundscapes and ethereal music, Bryony creates a powerful, dark and joyful work about motherhood, heartbreak and finding inner strength.

"Bryony Kimmings' solo performance is acutely painful in places but it's actually an easy sell: this is an extraordinary piece of theatre. I'm a Phoenix, Bitch shows Kimmings is an artist of exceptional integrity, compassion, imagination and guts." (The Guardian)

We will need new myths to survive the end of existence as we know it; for Bryony it is that of the invincible and fearless woman; a tale Bryony wishes she had known from birth.

Act 1

SCENE 1

Suddenly the sound of suspense-filled horror music plays loudly. BRYONY, dressed in glorious orange sequins and a long blonde wig, launches herself onto the stage. She stumbles in red heels. Breathing deeply she plays a defenceless bimbo victim being chased. She stops centre stage, lights flash as she plays out a Hammer horror version of the show in 30 seconds, she mimes wildly to the music… she wields an imaginary spade, she lifts weights, she fries a breakfast, she gets pregnant, she holds a baby, she goes mad, she cries and finally she mimes her vagina exploding towards the audience with flames flying then fizzling out on the floor.

Pause.

BRYONY: (Trying not to laugh.) Imagine if I started the show like that! What a prick.

Hi. I’m Bryony Kimmings. Autobiographical performance artist at your service. (She curtseys.) Welcome to my show, “I’m a Phoenix, Bitch”. What’s it about? I hear you cry. Hmmm where to start – OK, potted? In 2015 my life burnt to the ground babes. I lost my mind, my partner, my house and in some ways my son, Frank. This is a show about that traumatic time and very importantly my subsequent recovery.

Otherwise it could be quite heavy couldn’t it!?

See, I want you to know you are in safe hands tonight. You’re safe. I’m safe. This is something I do for a living, I’ve done it for a long time, I’m insured, I’m DBS checked. I need you to know I work through my shit first and then I make art about it. So we’re safe.

Now, I’m currently dressed as pre-2015 Bryony right now. Some of you might remember her. Bad wig, ASOS sequins, little shimmy. But for those of you who don’t know me, or my work, I wanted to do a little potted history of who I used to be before all the shit hit the fan. (She calls to the back.) Music please Maestro!

She begins to shimmy and dance, it’s funny.

In 2009 I made a show called Sex Idiot, where I tried to retrace my sexual footsteps to find out which one of the buggers I’d shagged had given me a sexually transmitted infection. It’s the one with the now infamous pubic hair moustache and lots of crying.

In 2011 I made a show called 7 Day Drunk in collaboration with a then alcoholic friend. I tried to prove to her that her creativity was in no way linked to her alcohol consumption by spending 7 days drunk with scientists. I failed. I was a much better artist drunk. It’s the one with all the booze and lots of crying.

In 2013 I made Credible Likeable Superstar Role Model in collaboration with my nine-year-old niece. It’s the one about inventing feminist pop stars, difficult family politics and there’s lots of crying in it.

In 2015 I created Fake It ‘Til you Make It with my then partner Tim. It’s the one about loving someone with depression and thus there is lots of crying in it.

She stops dancing in a deep bow.

Oh dear. I think we all know where tonight could be going.

She stands up and her physicality transforms into MAN.

MAN: Urgh God this is tragic. (Pause.) Kimmings you’re not funny anymore.

BRYONY: Shut up.

MAN: What? it’s true.

BRYONY: Oh go away!

MAN: You’re just coming across a little desperate and self-obsessed.

BRYONY: Am I?

MAN: Yeah…

Pause. She shrinks a little, forgets the audience are there.

BRYONY: Shit sorry, OK sometimes you may hear me talk in a man’s voice. He’s my leaking critical inner monologue. Do you have one of those? Mine is a straight, white, cis-gendered TV drama exec that likes to bully me and make me feel like a piece of shit.

MAN: Calm down dear…

BRYONY: See. He’s also quite reductive with my feelings. Urgh.

She begins to undress revealing practical sportswear. Cycle shorts, sports bra, and functional vest top.

BRYONY: Well this is more like me now. Anxious, middle-aged, celebrity sports wear wearing, single mum broken Bryony. As I like to call her.

I haven’t been onstage for a couple of years properly. It took a bit to coax me back on if I am honest. But it felt important for the healing process… urgh did I just say healing process? (Laughs) … to try my best to find my way back here. It was such a huge part of who I was before everything happened. I’ve had a fuckload of therapy in recent years and I have brought some of the coping techniques that I’ve learnt there onto the stage with me to keep me safe.

Packs away the old BRYONY costume ceremoniously.

BRYONY: Away you go old Bryony… (Putting on functional trainers. Smoothing her hair.) Like firstly for example, I knew to wear my everyday comfy clothes onstage. Some of my new-found anxiety is triggered by what I think I look like to other people. Not great if you’re a performance artist for a living. So I chose clothes with function. No more sequins for me.

Secondly, I also brought this little Dictaphone here onstage. I have recorded Frank messages pretty much every day since he got ill. It’s a security blanket I allowed myself to have. He can’t talk to me, so this is a way of communicating with his future self when maybe he will. I’m often away from home. I give him annoying mum tips and tell him funny things about the world. (Excitedly.) Let’s do one…

Starts recording.

Hi Frank. I’m onstage at [insert place] it’s [insert date]. I feel OK, if a little nervous. The audience seems really nice though. Say Hi to Frank, audience.

A space to say Hi.

Speak to you later. Peace.

Stops recording.

As well as everyday chitchat I do funny chapters for him, to mix it up. We are on survival tips for the future at the moment.

We’ve done ‘How to Live on a Plant-Based, Forager’s Diet’. ‘How to Steal Things from John Lewis and Not Get Caught’, and ‘What to Pack in an Atomic Emergency’. Nothing your skin will burn from your bones.

Whe...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Act 1
• Act 2
• Act 3