In Advance of Snow
Rutti – screaming – the Indian contingent – never seen snow
Delighted, excited
Infusing their body – the weird jumps on demi pointe
Shobana
A gathering in – a need for work to stop and play to happen
Trancredi
Italian Renaissance music – but with shot silk, dimmed lights, shiva
Which then leads me to Ekatarinburg
And the dark dark snowy wimter
Kaash – with machine guns in the wings trained on the audience
Minus 10 – not so bad, when you get used to minus 4, and 6 points is arbitrary
To get there we take a night flight from Moscow
And we fly through a snow storm
And we are the only plane that lands that night
And we are standing at the baggage reclaim
And lights and theatre equipment starts arriving on the belt
Literally laterns, franells, coils of wire, extension leads the lot
Piece by piece on the baggage reclaim belt
And the hotel doors open out into the corridor rather than in to the room
And I am listening to the Pyramid song over and over and over again
It seems the perfect song for where we are
And we are spinning
And I have just been back there
And it feels fuller now – somehow, in my grasp
And in my whole body
Not in just my
Heel
Or
Arms
Or hands
And I recall that this place back then
Held a grain of
(History)
some kind of fear
some kind of violence
that this violence once dealt, sticks around
as a warning
And somehow this was being repeated
Balancing on the edge of
Hope
& regret
hope
& fear
and that this ‘art’ was our hope right now
That this dancing – was something to look forward to
spinning into nothing
it was
However, new clothes for the emperor
In the city where the emperor and all his family
Were taken into a basement
And shot
Calculated
And we were supposedly dancing
Shiva
The Bhagavad Gita
The epic tale
Where Arjuna
On the battlefield
Is taught
(Realises) his role
How messed up
How brutal
Brutal man
Brutal history
Brutal to elevate it
By calling it art