On the art of practice and the practice of art

 

Performance Notes

PLAY/WAR by Urban Research Theater

As performed at Where Eagles Dare Theater, March 12 & 13, 2010

 

 

In the beginning, darkness.

The creaking of a door as it opens…to admit two performers.

 

A low vocal tone resonates in the small room…

First one, then a series of these tones gradually coalesce into a fragment of vocal melody…A proto-song emerges.  In their song, the words “Come…To…Me…”, like an invitation to the spectator.

 

Still in darkness, they begin to speak, their voices measured, deliberate.

“You’re awake…”

“Impossible…”

“You are awake…”

“I was dead…”

“I guess not…”

“You woke me up…”

“Not really…”

“What will you do to me…?”

“It’s time to begin…”

“Not yet!”

“Turn on the light!”

 

Lights rise on an empty black room.

A bare stage.  A square of light.

A radiator upstage, pipes snaking down the walls and a set of heavy black curtains – all of them actual elements in the room –  make the only scenery.

 

Two men stand frozen across from one another, each clinging desperately to their respective corner.  One (Civilian) wearing a business suit, the other (Soldier) in a camouflage uniform.

 

They watch one another warily, eyes wide open and staring.

 

With a start, they begin slowly to circumnavigate the space – as if they are assessing one another’s intentions…  For several long seconds the two men describe a circle on the stage floor with their steps in a cautious perambulation, but when they move it is with sudden quickness and agility, first away from, then towards one another.

 

This short sequence of action repeats itself, until suddenly Civilian swings his arm towards Soldier in a wide and rapid arc, his fingers rigidly extended as in karate.  Soldier blocks the first swing, then a second, then a third, each time catching his attacker’s arm and shunting it aside in a display suggestive of hand-to-hand combat…

 

A momentary pause in the action, and then their roles reverse and now it is Soldier who swings his arm and Civilian who parries.

 

Civilian suddenly makes contact with Soldier’s head, but instead of his blow landing with the impact of a strike, Civilian gently pushes the hood back from Soldier’s brow.  When Soldier suddenly snatches Civilian’s skull cap from him, the true purpose of their actions becomes apparent.  These actions are not attempts to strike one’s opponent as at first seemed the case, but rather an attempt to uncover the other person’s head.  A childish game performed with the seriousness of men.

 

Soldier puts Civilian’s hat on his own head.

 

In the stillness that follows this initial flurry of action, the sound of their breathing in the quiet room makes for the only soundtrack.

 

Another quick round of strikes and parries morphs into a choreographed marching in place and the marching becomes a kind of skipping.  Standing side by side and facing downstage, they execute a series of synchronized hand gestures that culminates in a two-finger salute directed towards the spectatorship. 

  

The civilian leaps onto the soldier’s back and this begins a game of leap-frog.  Only a few moments later, they are bowed over, hunched like elderly men.  Then, they interlock arms and spin like hyperactive schoolchildren.  At last, they share a firm handshake, as if sealing their partnership.

 

A sideways glance at the audience, perhaps to see who might be watching…?

 

This acknowledgement of our presence, the first of its kind, elicits a few nervous giggles from the spectatorship.  The tone of the performance thus far might be described as serious, perhaps even dangerous, and the introduction of levity into the proceedings is met with familiar chuckles from the audience.

 

This moment is shattered when the two performers begin scrambling from place to place, ducking and dodging, looking wildly about the space above them.  The impression is that they are running for cover from some form of aerial bombardment.  There is no clue to this interpretation other than the action of their bodies in the space.

 

At one point Civilian is backed against the door and Soldier, closing in on him, clutches the other man’s leg and drags him hopping out to center stage…And just as suddenly, this action transforms into a modified tango…

 

Then, the striking begins again.

 

The series of blows between them leaves Soldier sprawled on the ground.  Civilian stands over him, having removed his shoe and seems about to strike…  Soldier cries out – the unmistakable sense of this cry (accompanied by hands stretched out above him) is for Civilian to have mercy.  Civilian obliges, reaching out a hand to help Soldier up.

 

The status of power between them shifts – the line that separates the victor from the vanquished is permeable and they each cross back and forth over that threshold many times throughout the performance. 

 

Repeatedly, the aggressor/defender roles seem to reverse.  The friend, the ally, the compatriot, the lover, the nemesis, the prisoner; at different moments they each adopt these roles, and just as quickly exchange them.

 

When Soldier has stood, he hides behind Civilian as if hiding behind a human shield.  Later, this image will also reverse itself  – Civilian hiding behind Soldier. 

 

Their faces glistening with sweat from the exertions thus far, the two men begin to sing a song in an invented language. 

 

There is a moment when the Civilian brushes a drop of sweat from the Soldier’s brow.

 

They begin wild spasms of laughter together, and then sing:

“All alone, all alone…

Rock, paper, scissors, bone…

All the soldiers killed all the men

Now it’s time to start again.”

 

This fragment of melody, like a twisted lullaby, repeats itself and accelerates…

 

Breaking from the song, the performers engage in more leapfrog, as if re-living previous moments in the drama…

 

Kneeling side by side, the performers sing a song that references Greek philosophers.  The lyrics playfully incorporate a game of counting backwards from six to one, while at the same time suggesting the gravitas of those philosopher’s lessons.

 

Soldier touches Civilian’s nose.  Then his hair.

Civilian touches Soldier’s nose, then his hand, then his ear.

Civilian pokes Soldier tentatively in the crotch…an innocent and intimate gesture.

 

Here, as elsewhere in the performance, they seem close to kissing one another; a homoeroticism which is alluded to, hinted at, but never consummated…

 

Civilian gently lifts Soldier’s foot, inspecting it.

Soldier takes Civilian lightly by the hand.

They lift one another’s shirts and investigate each other’s belly buttons…

 

Then, as before, they suddenly seem aware of their audience – they look out towards us, but do not speak…

 

Once again they sing:

“All alone, all alone…

Rock, paper, scissors, bone…

All the soldiers killed all the men

Now we have to start again.”

 

They repeat the exaggerated marching/skipping sequence from earlier in the performance.  Now the civilian leads the soldier by the hand…  The soldier whispers a single word: ‘boom.’  The civilian gestures as if to ask, “What did you say?” and the soldier replies: “BOOM!!!”

 

The two collaborate to offer variations on the word: ‘Boom!’  They speak it in different tones of voice and with different accompanying actions.  For a while they behave like two young boys playing with guns.  Civilian lobs an imaginary grenade towards the center of the playing space, and they each watch it descend in slow motion until – BBBBOOOOOMMMMM!!!! 

 

They each splay their bodies against the wall in the unmistakable gesture of being blown to bits.

 

They remove their shoes and throw them back and forth to one another.

 

C:  Your games are bloody.

S:  They aren’t my games.

C:  It’s good to have a companion.

S:  It’s better to be alone.

C:  Alone is too much…

S:   Who are they?

 

Are they arguing about who is in the songs, or about people in the war?

 

S:  Then talk about love…

C:  I never think about love.

S:  Never.

 

A recitation of military commands which Civilian struggles to obey.

 

Civilian chokes the soldier in a headlock.

Eyes wide in seeming terror, the soldier exclaims:

“Ghosts!  I’m surrounded by ghosts.  Ghosts killing ghosts.  That’s what I’ve seen…”

 

Civilian releases Soldier and a slow walking ensues…

And from this action, a song emerges…Its words indistinct, the melody gentle and soothing.  At first the song evinces familiar blues modalities and then a new song arises, its rhythms reminiscent of gypsy music or klezmer…  Without the meaning of words as a distraction, the sense of the song may be easily inferred from the performers’ subtle physical and vocal nuances.

 

And then a new movement in the composition: The performers begin a human beat-boxing routine, gesturing and moving about the space, adopting and inverting the conventional hand gestures and dance moves of hip-hop.  The modified rap song that emerges, although unintelligible, evinces a quality of playful confrontation that resonates with the themes of the show as well as in the context of this particular song-form.  This number, the longest of the entire show, continues for approximately three minutes before the performers break into a final synchronized pose, back to back, arms crossed at the chest, gazing sternly, defiantly towards us.

 

They turn simultaneously to walk upstage and, facing upstage, they each suddenly fall, sprawling on the floor and commence with a series of deep and horrible groans, like men who have been shot and must now bleed away the last of their lives.  It is an extraordinary use of voice and utterly contrasts with the playfulness that immediately preceded it in the faux-rap song.

 

When this too passes, Soldier and Civilian both rise and, slowly, retreating away from one another, return to their starting position, backs against the wall, staring warily across an empty room. 

 

And the lights go out.