I’ll save you googling what PechaKucha is or means. It’s a Japanese onomatopoeia for ‘chit-chat’; an apt namesake for this succinct, picture-prominent format of presentation. The rules are simple: 20 slides, 20 seconds on each. It’s functional, frenetic, and fun. Those with short attention spans are not put on the boredom rack, and those who gulp in clammy trepidation on stages before expectant audiences are forcibly whisked through their six minute and forty second sentence before they can stutter “panic attack”. Brevity, however, need not preclude profundity.
Marc, our first intrepid guinea pig, proselytised the picante, taking us on a red-hot whistle stop tour up the Scoville Scale, culminating in a lesson on how best to cultivate a chilli farm in one’s airing cupboard. Prince Harry Jack Smith courageously bore his truth to the world, sparing nothing, on what life is like with an infamous doppelganger grizzling in your shadow. Hugo Bone waxed lyrical about his favourite television series ‘The Boys’, and elucidated how we all could learn from the meta brand advertising the producers employ. Merope shared a harrowing story about an old colleague, David gave an eclectic presentation on ‘Things that made David smile’, and you may already have read about Dylan’s sploshy experiments with bird poo. Finally, Lizzie rounded off the evening by seeking to improve our health by means of stand-up comedy. A cackle a day…
Never has so much been presented by so many in so short a time. The evening was a terrific success, which can be wholly credited to those who took part. Will we be making a habit of these evenings? You pecha
