The audience entered quite sheepishly ending up huddled near the entrance not heading out into the space until instructed to do so, as if scared to tread foot into our church, our holy place fearing to break the sacrament of person and spirit.
Gifts of the spirit played out perfectly, rapture and reverence filled the performance space. As a performer i was only vaguely aware of the audiences presence , i found my self scribbling frantic incantations that can only be likened to whispering s from the lips of madmen or ancient priests as part of ritualistic worship. Something was definitely being awoken or invoked in this place. We were not alone .
to be continued........
Continued.......
Throughout the rehearsal process we underwent your average notions of spacing the performance into small intervals of writing punctuated with instructions taken from readings spoken by Ron. These Readings came from his memoirs 'Gifts of the spirit' and we grew somewhat accustomed with the time spacing of the piece , we took the cue to write from the speaker commanding us to at the end of each speech segment.
Now as the happenings took place this most certainly wasn't the case i for one become completely unaware of the speech segments and if i were aware it was on a very metaphysical level for prolific writings poured forth from our pens, i can remember no instruction to write , i remember no music cues , i only have a vague recollection of the audience that surrounded me ( and that's primarily due to the heavy documentation of the piece, what with cameras being thrust into my face at various points) we were taken by whatever we had invoked, a group possession, a mass exorcism of personal demons and a happening to be held aloft in the higher echelons of history and performance .
When the chanting stopped and the performance ended we all awoke from our internal state, snapped back form our daydreams by a crescendo of clapping hands , the performance was over , but surely this was not the end for it felt like only ten minutes had passed , no this was not the case for an hour of incantations had taken place , a whole hour had passed seemingly unnoticed by audience and performer alike.
It was at this point that the most beautiful and magical of moments occurred , Ron stepped forward and as though being commanded by transparent strings we all drew near to him and one another and just wept and embraced each and every person present (including some audience members) .
This was over for tonight, we had not just performed but ultimately shifted something inside of us , the metamorphosis was complete, bestowed by gifts of some spirit we ventured forth into the night safe in the knowledge that what we concieved would walk forward into this world and grow a life of its own.
My love and thoughts still go with fellow performers, some i can still feel talking inside my head.
Continued.......
Throughout the rehearsal process we underwent your average notions of spacing the performance into small intervals of writing punctuated with instructions taken from readings spoken by Ron. These Readings came from his memoirs 'Gifts of the spirit' and we grew somewhat accustomed with the time spacing of the piece , we took the cue to write from the speaker commanding us to at the end of each speech segment.
Now as the happenings took place this most certainly wasn't the case i for one become completely unaware of the speech segments and if i were aware it was on a very metaphysical level for prolific writings poured forth from our pens, i can remember no instruction to write , i remember no music cues , i only have a vague recollection of the audience that surrounded me ( and that's primarily due to the heavy documentation of the piece, what with cameras being thrust into my face at various points) we were taken by whatever we had invoked, a group possession, a mass exorcism of personal demons and a happening to be held aloft in the higher echelons of history and performance .
When the chanting stopped and the performance ended we all awoke from our internal state, snapped back form our daydreams by a crescendo of clapping hands , the performance was over , but surely this was not the end for it felt like only ten minutes had passed , no this was not the case for an hour of incantations had taken place , a whole hour had passed seemingly unnoticed by audience and performer alike.
It was at this point that the most beautiful and magical of moments occurred , Ron stepped forward and as though being commanded by transparent strings we all drew near to him and one another and just wept and embraced each and every person present (including some audience members) .
This was over for tonight, we had not just performed but ultimately shifted something inside of us , the metamorphosis was complete, bestowed by gifts of some spirit we ventured forth into the night safe in the knowledge that what we concieved would walk forward into this world and grow a life of its own.
My love and thoughts still go with fellow performers, some i can still feel talking inside my head.
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