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