I’ve called this little diddy that Judy Bauerlein and I worked on “solo mamas”. When we get back to it someday, I’m sure it will find a new name.
The score so far…
soloist:
Get up, run out of the room, and stop at the foggy glass window. Pause. Move some clothing to reveal what’s beneath it. Press that into the window and pause. Move back into the room and towards the stage with head in hand(s). Stop just before stepping on stage. Sink until you are on the floor and move (roll, slide, pivot, shimmy) onto/into the stage/performance space. While travelling in this way, remove one article of clothing and arrive at the place that is pulling you. Express an experience with Max/Hazel through movement and sound. When it’s over, it’s over. Time to go to work. Now move: Mother’s milk/these boobs/here they are/ready to catch them. Two shots/shocks to the chest. Right hand releases right breast, left hand lets go of left. Squat down and to the right, hands, knees, head on the floor, release neck. Right hand slides down, around and tucks under right ribs. Lie on right side with right arm still tucked up like a chicken wing. Left leg taps back, forward, rests, and then left arm shifts forward, palm resting down. Left hand slides hair out of face and slowly stretches left and long, palm up. Reach and stay, arm six inches off floor. Left hand reaches to right chicken wing and pulls it by the finger across the chest, rolling you left until you land on hands and knees. Travel sideways on hands and knees until hands are opening when knees are closing. End knees open and hands closed. Open tail and say, “High, hot and a helluva lot,” and receive the water. When you’re holding the water in your colon, walk downstage right and say,
his voice is like sandpaper
a barking dog
a car alarm
and lilac lemonade
it says: enter here and
go away idiot
it’s your fault
his voice is a record skipping
no-no, no-no, no-no, no-no, no-no
a chain saw cutting through the last sequoia
disappearing
into manhood
Then go over and rest head in the available hands. Massage the water in your belly. When ready, whisper, “I feel the urge to evacuate” and get up and finish the movement phrase, landing downstage left, (at microphone?), facing stage right. Put mouth near mic and pause to make time/space for your dad’s ghost to enter. This continues for the length of time it takes to hear the following lyrics in your head: “I’m trying not to move it’s just your ghost passing through. I said I’m trying not to move it’s just your ghost passing through. It’s just your ghost passing through and now I’m quite sure…” (to hear Tori Amos singing the lyrics, go to 3:05). Step away and see the place where that just happened. Remember a time since his death where your dad visited you. Go upstage right, lie on your right side with your right cheek on the floor and tell the story of that visit.
supportist:
Sit the front row and place hands and elbows, palms up, one on top of the other, on the floor, ready/waiting to support a head.
When the ghost comes, hear the lyrics in your head too.
At some point, get up and offer/create a support.
A work-in-progress showing at “this”, curated by Liam Clancy.
