Detweiler Competition 2023

detweiler competition ORDER disorder

Art, Creative

Writing, Drama and Music

Foreword

I am delighted to share with you the incredible work created by the boys for this year’s Detweiler Competition.

The Detweiler Competition was introduced to Bedford School by Rob Campbell (Director of Art 1994-2013) in 1997 and named after the Canadian composer, author and patron of the arts Dr Alan Detweiler, who so generously provided the prizes until his death in 2012. Initially set up as an Art competition, it now involves the English, Drama and Music departments and so encourages the arts across the whole school and, as such, is a major event in the school arts calendar.

This year’s competition, with the theme ‘Order/Disorder’, was very well received by a large and captivated audience. It is one of my own creative highlights of the academic year and I would like to congratulate all boys who entered the competition. I hope you enjoy this year’s winners and highly commended prizes!

Antoinette Keylock Head of Creative Arts Faculty

ART

Judge: Peter Webb (OB)

2D Winner

Freddie McPhail (Upper Sixth Form)

3D Winner Ted Ferris (Upper Sixth Form)

Highly Commended

Merlin Toms

(Upper Sixth Form)

Highly Commended

Tom Godber

(Upper Sixth Form)

Highly Commended

Oliver Phillips (Fifth Form)

Highly Commended

Jake Biffa (Fifth Form)

Highly Commended

Alex Hayward (Upper Sixth Form)

creative writing

Creative Writing Winner

Anton Gryaznov

(Remove Form)

The Shatter Effect

The following response explores the suffering of a schizophrenia patient, reflecting upon the disorder of the mind and a stream of disorganised consciousness. The piece is written to reflect this to include an artistic loss of structure and a chaotic series of events.

Greyscale cloudscapes. A mood as sour as the sky above. I sit still upon the bed, head buried deep into the arms. Paranoia. Anxiety. Eyes searching every nook and cranny behind a curtain of fingers. She is here. They are here. My head turns in dread towards the wardrobe… scuttling. Eyes behind the blinds, a stare unbroken. They are not there. A trick of the light, an object impersonating the eye, it must be! Yet it is so real… I bury myself deeper into my body, a foetal position. Fear, a wish for them to disappear, dissipate. My mind pleads; pleads for freedom. Objects, inanimate... or not? Arms reaching, eyes watching, enveloping me… What have I done to deserve this?

A playground. The crinkling of snow beneath running feet, joyful voices at play. Although one component is

out of place in one’s picture. A smudge of loneliness, a young child far away from the crowd. He sits still, inanimate amidst a moving picture, a statue with a beating heart. Fingertips gnawed, hair dishevelled, deep grooves of black below the eyes. Insecure, withdrawn from those that surround him. His eyes focus upon his hand, the outer layer deformed beyond comprehension, nails bitten away in angst. Swiftly he hides it… far too late. Memories, supressed by a naïve childish veil, tear at his heart once more. Agony. The image of a pale fist, a man in drunken rage. It strikes his past, he twitches. A woman cries out fruitless pleas, her speech racked with unintelligent, endless sobbing. He collapses upon the floor, shivering, trembling. His past failures, the trauma of a crazed tyrant. It drowns him, so leisurely snatching away his alacrity, his confidence. It became alive, humiliating, torturing the soul. The body spasms, uncontrollable sobs and breaths. No one comes to his aid; none even notice his suffering. They see only a fish out of water, an act of attention… That boy is me, a blot in the painting, a mistake. That is what I was

made to feel, the great castle of positivity and self-belief crumbling with every action, every word. Harm. They only ever meant me harm.

The sweet song of birds, the lush fragrance of freshly cut grass, the heaps of mouth-watering delight, placed delicately upon a warm tartan picnic blanket. The warmth radiates from the many people that sit upon it, laughter and conversation in full swing. Tales of busy workplaces, accidents that led to unprecedented outcomes, retellings of a cherished book or movie… all can be identified in the tangle of mismatched voices filling the air. Children frolic just a stone’s throw away, their happy shouts of play warming the hearts of their parents. I lay right in the centre of this paradise, the soul in perfect equilibrium with the warmth of the sun. And yet, an invasive feeling, an alien thought lingers in the mind. So perfect is this place, like a dream in a cold winter’s day, a longing for a future that cannot possibly be achieved. Is it real? Has an illusion clouded my brain? An impulse, fear, commanding me to spring up in high alert. The forest surrounds me,

lush and green… What crucial detail do I miss? My eyes search for that picnic, that blanket that seemed to welcome with open arms. Gone.

A smile. What is it? Pain. Why do I feel it? White blankets of ocean, sea breeze in motion. No one in sight, not so bright. Friends in a park, sit in the sunshine. They don’t see me. I’m not there. A mother’s touch, hands clutched. Her face. It doesn’t see me. A bustling crowd, so very loud. Ignorance. They never saw me. They… never saw me.

Silence reigns in the shattered mind.

Creative Writing Runner Up

Rocco Sarro

(Fourth Form)

Order/Disorder

The composure of each staff member

Smiling, knowing who sent her. At the bar serving an algid Corona

An ubiquitous pour with a divine Head – a drink for eternity with deific Proportions. Ecstasy when served correct Later through the night kitchen staff get Quite the consternation, no buns, no base. no more elation.

The fright spreads to the ones in the front

The façade crumbling

The Boss Irked

Patience is NOT a virtue for customers

Creative Writing Highly Commended

Freddie Bowis (Fourth Form)

Order/Disorder

Are we better off living with rules or not? Are we better with freedom or better being taught About rules and regulations that keep us secure Or learning from mistakes that make us mature?

The question is which do we need for our sake? Do we need laws if they’re there just to break? And is there such thing as too much of the two? Too much of both can’t be good for you.

For example if we have freedom of speech Horrible things would be said to us each; But if we couldn’t say what we want to There would be no opinions for me to share with you.

If there were no rules, it would be crazy: Chaos, pandemonium, and would it feel free? Too many laws would imprison us all, Banning us from doing things like when we were small.

Laws make us safe and freedom brings happiness

And I think that now we have a pretty good balance. We can conclude that they have good and bad things But for now we shall see whatever life brings.

Creative Writing Highly Commended Frederik Simmen (Lower Sixth Form)

The Stranger

‘He who was living is now dead

We who were living are now dying…’

T.S Eliot, ‘The Waste Land’

Nothing is simple.

Inside the crashing surf on the darkened shores, lie those terrible shards of abandoned glass. A raging storm lies deep within, reflecting the clear, unblemished sky above.

And then there they were. Standing on the surf with melancholic eyes, Bitter tears flow, whetting the shattered mirror. Forgotten promises spill out.

“You,” they whisper aloud, “Are not who you are.”

Sadly it is true.

The person who once walked on untarnished wits, lost to the fell ravages of ticking time, has been usurped most unfairly. Now here I stand alone in the dark of day.

The glass becomes blades, cutting so deep with their blunt shrieks of temper. The echoed daylight withers my ravaged flesh. Every sideways glimpse, every word, racks my trembling body with unbridled shame.

An eerie stillness rings out. Silence.

I open my eyes to see nothing has happened. It’s all a foul concoction of conscience, stemming wickedly from seeded doubt. Tepid ice spills down from the spiralling, glowering storm above. It spins faster, lightning snaking erratically. I shake my head dejectedly. The solicitude clouds what is real in life.

Murkiness thickens, but I can glimpse their lithe shape running away. Indecision grips my harshly striking heart. I give chase.

The mist coils ‘round my legs

Thunder pours into my head

Filled with spiky resonance

A mirror

The horror

But without honesty

The tempest

But there is no water

My mind

Adrift upon bottomless expanse

I am unperturbed

Greater forces than simply myself have tried in fulminating vain to end my mortal pursuit

Fear is the restrainer

the shouting and the crying. At the end

Fear

It is just a crack of thunder over a secluded mountain.

And then there they were. Where he once cried bitter tears of resentment. She stands tall with a steadfast uncertainty. Born once again for the first time. Frightful passage to the shining fulfilment, It lies in mocking view.

Drama

Drama Winner

Theo Cromwell

(Remove Form)

Heaven and Hell

Devil: Hey, what’s up with her?

Pointing at audience

Angel: Is that Gwyneth Paltrow?

Devil: No- silly! You’ve heard her name one time when we watched that film about the rich metal guy! That woman is about to jump off of a bridge. Let’s watch!

The Devil grins with malice written all over his face

Angel: Watch?! You really think I’ll let that happen? Do you realise who you are looking at right now?

Devil: I see. But do you realise that she’s just one person in a sea of millions? What difference does it make?

Angel: Every life is precious. We have the power to make a difference. We can show her that there is still hope and that things can get better.

Devil: Hope is a false promise. People always disappoint in the end. It’s better to just let her go and save ourselves the trouble of watching her life deteriorate even more.

Angel: That’s a negative perspective. We have the opportunity to bring light into her life, to help her see that there is so much more to live for. We don’t know why she’s doing this!

Devil: I do.

Angel: Huh? How?

Devil: I- Don’t know. I just know the reasons why she’s standing there. Abused by her stepdad from when she was 9 to 16. Then… Well I don’t think a soul such as you would care to know. She’s beyond helping.

Angel: No matter what has happened to her, what she’s done or what she will do, she doesn’t deserve to end up as another statistic on the evening news. She deserves more than what she was dealt previously!

Devil: Fine, do what you want. But I’m telling you, it’s a waste of time.

Angel: Please help me! I’ll let you choose more Earth movies for film night tomorrow.

Devil: I hate that. It’s pointless chores so I can ‘learn more about them’ finger quotations. Plus Earth pop culture sucks!

Angel: You know you love it grinning

Devil: Hmm. Fine. But to make you aware my only motivation is to prove you wrong.

Angel: Perfect. Opposites usually work well ya know. Like Yin and Yang or sweet and sour, orDevil: Shut it.

Performed by Henry Gillham (Remove Form) & Will Hayward (Fifth Form).

Drama Runner Up

Aryan Sohanpal (Fourth Form)

The Interview

THE BATHROOM

JAMES TO HIMSELF: Oh no! I am going to be late for the ONE thing that can get me out of this slump. All in for this job.

FIXES HIS TIE, TAKES A BREATH

JAMES TO HIMSELF (CONT’D): Come on. Get in the mindset. Look professional. You can do this. You are a strong confident person who deserves this job. Who NEEDS this job! No, too much pressure. I deserve this.

CHECKS HIS WATCH

JAMES TO HIMSELF (CONT’D): That security guard asked way too many questions. What is this? MI6!!

JAMES LOOKS AT THE EMBROIDERED INSIGNIA OF MI5 ON THE HAND TOWELS

JAMES SIGHS, DEFEATED

OUTSIDE THE ELEVATOR

JAMES SPOTS THE ELEVATOR DOORS CLOSING BUT THE SECURITY GUARD FROM EARLIER HOLDS THE DOOR FOR HIM

JAMES: Thank you so much for holding the door. You are a lifesaver! I am heading straight to floor 24!

AS THE DOORS CLOSE, JAMES SLUMPS BACK AND SIGHS.

JAMES TO HIMSELF: Ok. It is fine now. Breathe. On the way up. Nothing else can go wrong. Why has the screen stopped? That says 10 instead of 24. Please don’t do this to me

JAMES’ BREATHING QUICKENS

JAMES TO HIMSELF (CONT‘D ): Why does this stuff only happen to me. On the biggest day of... MY LIFE!!

ELEVATOR DOOR OPENS AND A MOTHER PUSHING A PRAM AND DRAGGING A LITTLE BOY STEPS INSIDE THE ELEVATOR. THE BABY IS CRYING.

JAMES: Sorry, what? Can I hold your baby whilst you look for a nappy. Yes of course madam, happy to help.

JAMES HOLDS THE BABY AT ARMS LENGTH TRYING TO HOLD HIS BREATH. THE CHILD REEKS. THE BABY IS CRYING VERY LOUDLY

JAMES (CONT ‘D): Don’t worry wittle baby. I am sure your mummy will find your nappy soon. Yesh she will. GASPS. There is no need to cry!

JAMES TO HIMSELF: Please God get this woman a nappy. Oh no the smell is going to seep into my suit. I am going to have to BURN it!

JAMES CATCHES IN THE CORNER OF HIS EYE THE LITTLE BOY PRESSING EVERY BUTTON IN THE ELEVATOR

JAMES TO HIMSELF (CONT’D): This devil spawn. Can’t this

woman get a hold of her kids. Keep them under control!! Do they know that this a place of work not a playground!

JAMES: Excuse me little boy. If you press any more numbers on the lift, we may get stuck. You wouldn’t want that to happen would you.

JAMES TO HIMSELF: I CANNOT stay another second in this elevator with... this lot!! Where is this baby’s nappy and why is it gurgling at me? Is that a smile... this is the ugliest and smelliest baby I have seen. Please Please PLEASE take your baby back!!

THE WOMAN THANKS HIM FOR HOLDING HER CHILD AND TAKES IT BACK

JAMES: That is alright, I didn’t mind holding him. Glad to have helped. He is a beautiful boy!... Oh it is a girl.

ELEVATOR STOPS AND WOMAN AND CHILDREN EXIT

JAMES TO HIMSELF: Things are looking up. That was a minor inconvenience. So what if I have to stop at every floor now. It will be fine.

DOORS OPEN AND AN OLD MAN HOBBLES SLOWLY TOWARDS THE DOOR.

JAMES: Don’t worry, please take your time.

JAMES SMILES AT THE OLD MAN

JAMES TO HIMSELF: All I wanted today was to get to an interview on time. How many more obstacles are going to be thrown my way? Now he wants to talk about “back in my day”. I need to clear my mind, and my nose.

JAMES: I totally agree. I always say we have to respect our elders. Giving back to the community is so important for this generation.

JAMES TO HIMSELF: This is the fourth time he has told this story, and we’ve only moved four floors!! How?

ELEVATOR PINGS. JAMES HAS MADE IT TO THE 24TH FLOOR. HE WAITS FOR THE OLD MAN TO EXIT THE LIFT

JAMES: Have a great day sir!

JAMES STEPS OUT OF THE LIFT AND IS GREETED BY HIS

INTERVIEWER

JAMES (CONT’D): I apologise I am slightly late for my interview. It was a bit of a journey to the 24th floor. Have I seen you before?

CUT TO REVEAL THE INTERVIEWER IS THE WOMAN FROM THE ELEVATOR.

JAMES DOES A DOUBLE TAKE

INTERVIEWER: Remember me from the elevator?

JAMES’ EYES WIDEN

INTERVIEWER (CONT’D): Actually you are not late at all. You completed the interview in the lift. We look for qualities of patience, empathy, kindness. From the moment you stepped into the building you were being assessed!

JAMES PANICS, STUTTERS NERVOUSLY

JAMES: Oh how... different? How did I do? Did I get the job?

INTERVIEWER TURNS TO THE AUDIENCE

INTERVIEWER: What do you think, how did he do?

Performed by Oliver Quince (Fourth Form) & Aryan Sohanpal (Fourth Form).

Drama Highly Commended

Isaac Ferguson (Fourth Form)

1939

Narrator: On the 1st September 1939, war broke out across the world, along with the war came order and disorder. The men of the world were forced to enlist and fight for their countries in the torrid time.

Peggy: Lovely to meet you Nancy, how is your job? You work at the artillery factory, don’t you?

Nancy: Yes, lovely to meet you too. I’m putting my work in to win this war because clearly these two-faced, posh wollies don’t have a clue what’s going on!

Peggy: Nancy! Don’t be so silly, you know that’s not true.

Nancy: Have you heard what’s going with our sons? The danger is criminal.

Peggy: They have had their training you know?

Nancy: Yes, but how are they meant to remember that with the noise of the bullets battering around them.

Peggy: It won’t be like that! In training they have had the order and discipline imprinted into their brains. And they have their officers there to instruct them.

Nancy: Did you hear about Dorothy’s boy. He was sent straight into a machine gun post with no defence. Where were his officers? More like butchers!

Peggy: I’m sure that’s not the whole story and I know that the people in charge must have a plan. These troops aren’t boys anymore! They are men! We need to keep

faith; we are relying on them to win the war for us.

Nancy: But it’s just not like that on the frontline. It’s alright for them back in the countryside, officers moving our boys like chess pieces. They will sacrifice a pawn to protect the king.

Peggy: But,

Nancy: But nothing Peggy. Our children are out there fighting through the dark night. No rest, no order and certainly no care for the boys’ lives.

Peggy: But there must be a plan somewhere. They wouldn’t have sent our boys of into the disorder of war to die. We must do something to stop Hitler. They’re fighting for our freedom.

Nancy: No, they have been sent to die for our freedom.

Peggy: They must have a plan, mustn’t they? Please tell me someone somewhere is in control of this.

Nancy: I find it hard to believe at this rate, but I do hope you are right Peggy. At the end of the day these are our boys and their lives. All I want is for them to come home safely.

Peggy: I understand completely.

Narrator: The two ladies embrace and go on their separate ways.

Performed by Louis Cooke (Lower Sixth Form) & Matt Hackney (Fourth Form).

Drama Shortlisted Charlie Miller (Fourth Form) My Way

Cameron is 10 years old with severe OCD (obsessivecompulsive disorder).

This is a real disorder characterized by excessive orderliness, perfectionism, attention to details, and a need for control in relating to others. Some of the symptoms include not wanting to touch things others have touched, anxiety when objects aren’t placed a certain way, always wondering if you locked the door, turned off the lights, etc., unwanted, intrusive images of taboo subject matter, repetitive thoughts of doing things you really don’t want to do.

Cameron: I like things in order.

Cameron: I like things to be done a certain way.

Cameron: My way.

Cameron: Everywhere I go to is in disorder and chaos.

Cameron: I don’t like those places.

Cameron: Litter everywhere, people fighting and disease and illness spreading over everything.

Cameron: Those places aren’t for me.

Cameron: I like my bedroom.

Cameron: It’s in complete order. Everything is where it’s supposed to be. Where I like it.

Cameron: My mum and my brother make sure that everything is ok for me. They place it where I want it.

Cameron: But other people aren’t so kind.

Cameron: Kids at school think I am weird and laugh at me. I don’t have any friends. Nobody else thinks like I do. Nobody else wants everything to be perfect.

Cameron: But I can’t sleep until I know everything is perfect. Somethings must be exactly 1 cm to the right otherwise I can’t focus.

Cameron: Sometimes I have to do things an even number of times. I can’t just do 1 high-five; I have to do 2.

Cameron: But I have found out that the world just isn’t like that. Practically nothing is perfect. Everything is disorderly and unclean and damn all is symmetrical.

Cameron: So, my bedroom is my haven.

Cameron: The place where I can escape from the horrible disorder.

Performed by Charlie Lawrence (Lower Sixth Form).

Drama Shortlisted

Daniel Hudson (Remove Form)

My Disorder

The stage is pitch black and then a spot light slowly brightens to reveal a boy sitting on a chair, clearly in a world of his own with a dull/empty look on his face tapping his foot on the floor. The boy slowly begins to speak as he awakens from his own reality.

(Sad, emotional, but strong voice speaking)

It was perfect, everything, I had everything I needed, b….but then it came, it snuck up on me like the shadows that followed me round, you knew it would catch up but it was just a matter of time until it did. My head spinning out of control I felt alone, unwanted and isolated in a world filled with disorder.

(Standing up and pacing down stage left to down stage right)

I am trapped, stuck in the reality that I wished didn’t exist, but in my world, the world in my head I feel free, I feel safe and I feel alive. The shouting, it just keeps on echoing the noises I hear, the warnings trying to persuade me to leave, trying to pull me away from the people I love and need.

(Tick Tock Tick Tock)

(Shouting with his hands covering his ears with his eyes scrunched up trying to cover out the noise)

STOP! Why, why are you here? What is it that you want, the one place I felt safe has been invaded by this noise

that I can’t escape. The more I run, the louder the noise begins to get, chasing after me. They say they know what it feels like, but No, No you they don’t. I’m the only one who can hear these voices, they communicate with me, they command me. These demons in my head, they tell me to do things I would never imagine they sent me to this world as an object and a subject for them to control.

(Sitting back down on the chair rocking his body backwards and forwards with his hands covering his ears whispering to himself with his eyes close)

(Faint ticking keeps on repeating in the distance)

It’s just in my head they’re not really here. It’s just in my head they’re not really here. It’s just in my head they’re not really here.

(The ticking stops)

(The stage goes completely black and a spot light appears down stage left, as the boy begins to step into the spotlight and sit down on the floor)

My head, it feels empty. It feels silent, like the voices have just stopped and the screams and cries for help have been resolved and my sanity has been repaired. The noise not ticking in my head, the peace it feels safe. I have my world, my own world. I have a little world inside me, my own little world. I have a place I am able to hide from the world, curl up in a ball and wait for all of the world’s

disorders to be resolved. I can hide away in my world which has the orders that I want, the orders that I need, not what some random person thinks are correct.

(Standing up directing this out into the darkness)

It’s amazing the impact that one person can cause. In this whole big world one single person can change everything in one action. But in my world, I am the one that can change everything. My head is free, and I feel alive. Maybe the warnings weren’t trying to scare me off, but they were trying to fix me, guide me to the world that I wanted, to help give me comfort I needed to be me. Away from all of the world’s disorder, inside my head there is still just a little boy scared, waiting to be free, waiting for the orders of the world to change.

(The spotlight on the stage slowly dims as the whole stage goes black then in the distance a quite distant ticking can be heard again, then a sudden cry)

Performed by Daniel Hudson (Remove Form).

Music Winner

Angus Timmins (Fifth Form)

The Power of Space

I have confronted the brief of order and disorder by exploring the idea of order and disorder in space. Space is a place of great power and magnitude, of extreme rules and precision, as shown by the quieter moments of the piece, displaying the scale and solitude of space, and the loud homophonic parts showing the power. There is also powerful disorder in space, great supernovae and black holes destroying planets, as shown by the bold and brash climax of the piece.

Music Runner Up

Alby Chan

(Fifth Form)

Morning Alarm

My Detweiler piece is called ‘Morning Alarm’. It imitates a person waking up from their sweet dreams and getting ready for another busy day. The dreams are conveyed by the slower and more graceful first section. The second section is faster and has more sudden dynamic changes, contrasting with the gradual crescendos and diminuendos. This change in the music creates a stark disparity between a person in their dreams and waking up, which correlates to the Detweiler brief -- ‘Order and Disorder’.

Music Third Place

Harry L’Estrange (Remove Form)

Order and Disorder

I’ve explored the idea of order and disorder in a few ways in this piece for violin and piano. Harmonically it is relatively functional however it subverts your expectations in places and can be quite hard to predict where the harmony is going. I’ve explored different changing time signatures to give the piece a more unsettling feeling to create drama and suspense. I have based the structure of the piece on two main themes, that come up in places, with slight changes to them. The opening and ending of it are based on a specific melodic minor pattern over a minor 2-5-1 sequence, which might sound slightly confusing at first listen, however hopefully, especially at the end, it can portray that drama in a clear way. I decided on the violin as one of the instruments as the range is so large meaning that I can fully exploit the abilities of the instrument, in order to make the piece as expressive as I can.