Spill Writing

En Masse (not yet an ending)


There is singularly nothing that makes a difference a difference in beginning and in the middle and in ending except that each generation has something different at which they are all looking. By this I mean so simply that anybody knows it that composition is the difference which makes each and all of them then different from other generations and this is what makes everything different otherwise they are all alike and everybody knows it because everybody says it.(Getrude Stein)

The festival audience stick out on the streets of Ipswich. Bodies moving differently, meeting each other differently, looking at the streets differently.

Images and thoughts are spilling over bodies.

Pain and love; bodies and ideas come together in performances for us to be witnesses of.

Bodies have ached and bodies have healed from the eyes of strangers.

The division of similarities; the unity of difference.

Real connections.

I see the dots that connect you to me and you to history (Martin O’Brien)

What happens in the queue for the show that goes up late? What happens in the bar when you’re waiting to order a drink at 2am? What is changed in the way we talk to each other at the sinks in the toilet cubicle?

I heard the incantation of multiple voices across times, Of Leonardo, Echoplasm, Load, revived, and pulsating through the festival.

From the political motivations of the music from David Hoyle, to the exploration of life in We Are All Made Of stars, to the virtual spaces in Rhizome 2.0, we realise how our past effects our identity, and how our identity must continue to change for a better future.

I feel a returning to nature; not just returning to the trees and the stars, but to the gut reaction of the human body. How do I feel in this moment? How does the person sat next to me in a performance feel? How does the stranger on the street feel? Or the artist in the moment?

New friendships, experiences and connections are forged En Masse. I’m slayed by the efforts of all the participants. En Massacre.

Before and after. Forever changed.

Hanging out, opening spaces, being seen and listening in.

 

-Phoebe, Claire, Mark, Michelle, Jackie, Lissie, Diana