There is definitely an element of ritual involved. Theatre is ritualistic anyway, and when you add the dimensions of creating an environment and becoming one with it, a part of it, the female animus comes largely into view. We are creaturely, we are butoh, we are feminine, we are listening, we are responsive to the contours of dust.
Sound, as the crux of our spine here not here simple and stripped down, catalyses the most subtle feedback loops across dimensions. Mirroring loops within neural activity and the sensory motor nervous system, physical feedback loops in speaker cones vibrate to the frequency of our breath. Time vanishes, gaps emerge fluid wholeness, morehuman and otherworldly waves exhibit, and our quiet surprise tinges with amazed restraint.
"It was a crazy and magical place, and the electricity of all the people seemed to make for a wonderfully charged atmosphere, so that one woke up in the mornings excited and a little anxious, as though a thunderstorm were sweeping in." - Lyle Bonge
"What is art to others is not necessarily art to me.. What was art to me or was not some time ago might have lost that value or gained it in the meantime.. Art is not an object but experience. To be able to perceive it we need to be receptive." - Josef Albers
"I'm convinced that a pre-made dance, a dance made to be shown is of no interest. The dance should be caressed and fondled; here I'm not talking about a humorous dance but rather an absurd dance. It must be absurd. It is a mirror which thaws fear.. it is the unveiling of the inner life." Tatsumi Hijikata What I have to share about being here, to serve you most, is the complete and utter beauty of flowing in tides of pure creative energy. Creativity is a vortex of inspiration, dedication, pushing through, riding on the breakers of those pushing waves, finding the sun anew as we are rocked on the shores and backwashes of salt, bathed again in inspiration.
Every journey is a creative endeavour. In following the flows of each creative vortex through its own unique absences, presences, pathways, and logic we become alive outside of bounds. We are travellers, we are artists, we are stardust swirling (often painfully, always ecstatically) into form and out again. Everything, nothing, empty, full. Aho.
photos by Francesca Woodman
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