edmonton AB 2019
edmonton AB
mile zero dance / august 2019
guest artists
stephanie cumming
gerry morita
piet defraeye
notes
stephanie cumming
Rewriting Distance
Edmonton August 2019
13/08/2019
Witness as performer.
Audience participation?
Flow of images and associations.
Re-occurring themes threading through.
Silence: sound of space, door, floor, writing.
Storytelling! Physicalized!
A constant questioning, flowing form one performer to the next.
Contrast! Being busy with yourself, the space, each other.
Form-box.
Question: Can I use anything in the space?
Open vessel to give and receive from the others.
14/08/2019
(walk in the neighborhood)
A hodgepodge.
Feeling comfortable one second and uncomfortable the next. Seeing shady figures who probably aren’t shady at all. Shady streets lined with old trees. Shading old, dilapidated houses stuck next to stylish, young houses probably full of stylish young families.
Chain link fences.
Unfinished steps. Why is the front step always unfinished? Did they run out of money?
Dogs barking on porches. Beware of the dog.
Pick-up trucks and Blue Jays Edmonton Eskimo pride on display a few blocks form the stadium where they play.
Muddy alleys and landscaped front yards. Little bubbles of Old World and new hope. Houses leaning to one side.
Chinese Lutheran Church of Edmonton? Fitting mural. Who are we? Where do we come from? Everywhere, it seems. And then, some have always been here in these few blocks.
No backpacks or hats. Hats?
What if it’s an Eskimo’s hat?
Borders.
No borders. Children at play.
Unrefined… but buying: coffee, flowers, art.
Charm the wary.
A real neighborhood in a city. The kind that are becoming more rare. No enclave of privilege.
(After the practice)
Garage doors saying no. Not here. Not today.
Dancing decaying architecture.
Unspoken rules written on signs.
Subliminal or not so subliminal messages. The law must be obeyed.
A lecture on social norms and behavior.
Why? For what? No bluebells. A law, but no sense. Just because it is spoken.
Hat of lights and paper definitely not allowed. Not fitting or fitting. Maybe it is welcome. One can be and show anything. No need to conform on these few blocks.
It is so easy to break in. Flimsy locks and doors. Sterling junk. Someone’s treasure.
An off voice, commentating the scene.
Bugs and wheelchairs trying to be saved by a savior who resides in a church that serves multiple denominations.
Legs. Images. Flowers. Coffins. Belgian arms reaching. Singing a lullaby.
14/08/2019
Start with what you know and see where it leads you.
Movement. Repeat. Simple images. A remnant of our singing still hanging in my body.
The sound of paper. A naked man. No shame.
Wrapped like a cigarette, tracing scars on the body.
Trying to sing along with the African lullaby but I don’t know the words as this is something only Guy and Julian share.
Performance art deconstructed. Is it performance or authentic? Fake workshops with Jacob Wren. I have no idea what I am doing here. I just keep trying.
God, Guy is strong.
Clean the space. New perspective.
Oops. Eternal struggle.
Call it by its name. Who cares?
A 3-D picture coming out of the wall.
I don’t expect to win, but you never know.
16/08/2019
How are we connected? Literally? Metaphorically or legally?
Can I watch this alone or do we have to watch it together?
Jewish triplets and a German turtle showing his ass. How did it happen again?
It is all about the state of things: solid or liquid.
Melted cheese is just different.
I have tried. I really have.
A big blank. What happened then?
Squishing grapes and cheesy jingles.
We will be rich!
Is it a mouse or a T-shirt?
Praying for an answer.
A need to change, to give a new perspective.
Let’s send the ladder in the mail. But to whom?
Little dancing cloud following us wherever we go until the tables are turned.
Just go. To get out of here.
The airplane is landing. Oh no, aborted landing. Here we go again.
Walking on hot lava trying to help but just making things worse.
A German turtle slowly walking back to the sea.
A door opens letting in the sound of waves.
Stephanie Cumming
Edmonton, August 2019
notes
gerry morita
Rewriting Distance
Edmonton August 2019
13/08/2019
watching the very slow detailed parts and hearing the small sounds of the door hinges and charcoal on the wall. I feel a bit awkward and uncomfortable. Trapped in a Greek key, layers of familiarity building amid my own lack of understanding.
Lin- connecting
Guy- Belgian arms and windows. Two large asymmetrical circles on the wall
Stephanie- sneaky and whimsical
Piet- rowing, tied up tango, twerp, and torture story of a squirrel
At times I almost feel like a real estate agent.
14/08/2019
(After the walk)
NO NOT TRESPASS/PRIVATE/No Parking/No Parking/No Trespassing/ DO NOT ENTER
I walk through the warm, sunlit alleyways, in search for raspberries. It’s August after all, there should be something in abundance if I can just find it. Such a mix of dilapidated, granny, flop house, fortress. The overall sound of birds and children laughing. Lots of beware of dog signs, but no dog.
Purple bell flower abound! It’s the new Rat of Alberta after all.
Man with a white cane: Can you eat that?
Me: Yeah, it’s cherries.
Man: Is it chokecherries?
Me: No it’s cherries.
Man: But can you eat it?
Me: Yes, it’s a little sour though.
Man: Oh, like chokecherries.
Me: No- like cherries.
(After the practice)
codes upon codes upon rules upon laws, someone watching maybe just the magpie in real time, children’s voices, songs, dreams, memories, always return to Mama.
Traces of future backwards marks guess you have to be there-you will be there just wait. No wait. More. It is happening. Nothing lost. Nothing forbidden fruit flower hat or coffin.
Replay, replay, repeat, recall, return. It’s all a matter of scale. No/ Perspective.
What accumulates? What goes on behind closed doors? Forgotten lyrics to the fallen opera.
15/08/2019
POW!
Things that go pow:
breaking through
nudity
philosophy
post-pop material temporal art performance I mean performance art.
The struggle IS real. The unknown unknowing vulnerability fragility of the body. Once ripped up into small pieces cannot re-assemble or tape up or forget. To assist or to resist? There is always an undertone, a sound, a pulse. A need to protect.
16/08/2019
Impossible task to find an ending like a person who has insomnia always finding ways to continue out of nothing. I got up early this morning and then later on received google ads for a local sleep clinic.
All white wrapping- welcome reset, forget, replace, clean up just when the mess felt over-transformed + all used up, saturated with spit and exposure.
Dancing the graphic score of the lamp finds a new twin a new offspring, but not careful enough. One can never be too careful without being too careful.
Seeking Lin, but still haven’t found her in the space (careful what you wish for!)
There is an all-pervasive childlike playfulness + discovery. The evolving shapes and shadows in the walls area comfort. Things happen in two’s.
20-24/08/2019
care care taking care being too careful being away being still being + disappearing being absent when present being ok being desensitized being observant being selective being all about time.
Sometimes way too much is enough and sometimes its ok to only do one fifth.
Memorable moments appear in ones and twos, with a high degree of parallel play and juxtaposition, with the writing activity often settling and grounding the overall space.
The wall becomes a living document of the past, but the audience sees something new.
The absurd edge is exciting and strange. I find myself playing the edges of the room, crossing the boundaries to outside, even with just legs or voice remaining in limbo, observing from the liminal.
notes
guy cools
Rewriting Distance
Edmonton August 2019
13/08/2019
The first day is always an encounter with each other and with the space.
The latter is this time very porous and receptive.
It immediately reveals its yin and yang energy – from an Italian pool room to a yoga center.
It wants to be touched – the eyes of its walls, the grains of its floor.
There is a game of its dimensions that still needs to be discovered.
The see through – through the back of the chair, through the glass doors that reflect and illuminate the lamp inside, towards the street and the red neon sign: OPEN.
There is a song of light – un chant de lied – hidden here, which eventually we might sing together.
14/08/2019
(After the walk)
The recurrent topic/reflection of this walk is the question of ‘scale’.
The contrast of this neighborhood with its family houses framed on one side by the architecture of the sports stadium and on the other side by the nearby built high risers, downtown.
It reminds me of my walks in Beijing in 2008, which I documented in my letters to Tedi Tafel: the contrast between the old Hutong neighborhoods, south of Tiananmen square and the square itself or the new architecture built for the Olympics.
It is also a question I ask myself almost on a daily basis: the scale of a practice as Rewriting Distance or Tedi’s Everyday walks as opposed to the madness of Impulstanz or Larbi’s ‘108’ productions.
It is only on the smaller scale of the townhouses that the identity of its inhabitants is still visible on the outside: the mown front yards, the ‘beware of the dog’ signs, the Canadian flag, the gay pride colors, the sunflowers.
When I am almost back from my walk on which I saw glimpses of Piet, down the alley or Lin, slowly walking through the playground – I stumble on two, tine Spiderman’s shoes, a child left outside on the pavement in front of the daycare. I pick them up and put them back on the porch.
(After the practice)
It started very pedestrian with front lawns, closed garage doors, barking dogs and an occasional flag.
But the porous walls transformed all these stories in black and white calligraphy – the third denomination that Piet couldn’t decipher. So we only tried to sing it, with fragments of songs. A story of birth and death. A caterpillar shedding its cocoon and a coffin/cot with airholes in it.
On the way there, the lamp shade was multiple times deconstructed and reconstructed.
There is a power of translating the traces left behind. Yesterday, a tatou on my left arm. Today, the charcoal on the palm of my hand.
15/08/2019
It is all about perspective and how we frame things.
The title you give it. The environment and physical spaces you choose to present yourself in.
Oh No! Nein!
It is all about the permission you give yourself:
- To be naked.
- To be vulnerable.
- To fail.
- To be bad at it.
- To be ‘oops’.
- To be snot.
To sing a snot opera.
To not care about nudity warnings or any other law that forbids flowers or words.
It is about Wu Li, ways to re-energize the space, the body, the environment so that things can bloom, including the weeds or snow-mobile crazy Mike, making a guest appearance.
16/08/2019
I felt we were in some weird Japanese office with people wrapping gifts in white paper for the ghost of the death and scribes composing the lyrics of silent songs only to be whispered by the creaking of the floor.
I felt unwrapped. I needed someone to take of me, to help me find my way out of the labyrinth, without having to use a battering ram.
I felt like Alice following the Mad Hatter, looking through the mirror for everyone’s reflection in the traces they left behind, haphazardly.
Dancing, dancing, dancing.
Put down your feet first. Bend your knees.
Dancing, dancing, dancing.
20/08/2019
The session in which Piet got unwrapped.
A naked slow dance of vulnerability in which we remembered our mothers, our grandfathers and great aunts.
Stephanie channeled Monday’s Togethering and built an identical shrine in the corner to retreat and to sing in. Like the ever turning wheels. Like a bridge over troubled water. L’histoire se répète. So we can just sing lullabies. Lin’s and Gerry’s interpretation of a i a o wa yo.
21/08/2019
Today we continued to celebrate our ancestors, our mothers in particular, who continued to iron our clothes, far into adulthood.
I wrapped up Gerry and handed out drawing boards and cherries to the audience.
Luckily Piet was there to take care of the emergency of the pits.
It all ended with a magical duet between Lin and Stephanie sliding along the wall and remembering their grandparents, who all lived in Kindersley, Saskatchewan. Serendipity!
22/08/2019
I went in with the strong desire to dedicate this one to my son Steven, who has in two days his 32nd birthday.
We sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and also another lullaby for Julian. I lifted Stephanie and spun her around.
Gerry and Piet did a shooting drill of the Belgian army, firing 12 bullets in a row, semi-automatically. Piet with a roll of paper and Gerry with the ladder.
The ladder had a prominent place and so did falls, reflections, bums and snot.
Through the voice warm-up, we became very musically, polyphonically tuned in to each other.
23/08/2019
Although it is the height of summer, we remembered and recreated mainly memories of winter: Frosty the Snowman, whose sad ending melted away. The fear of climate change! But also happy memories of winter in Montreal or Antwerp.
24/08/2019
In which the twin motive dominated: two doves, two asses, two bears (ik zag twee beren broodjes smeren), twin souls.
In which we sent letters to Gerry, which Maya both initiated and collected. I wrote a long letter to the wall.
Dear wall,
Thank you for your generous support.
I love feeling your strength in my back.
I love to draw and write on you.
How I can tell you everything and you won’t judge me for it.
I love your shadows and the different lights showing fragments of the traces we left behind on you.
You wear them proudly like the scars of a body that supports, doesn’t judge, …
Warm embraces,
Guy
Edmonton, August 2019
notes
lin snelling
1.
OPEN
OPEN
And now
Sigh, slowly writing so much room …
… feeling its weight,
sound has a sigh
the door sighing a
vibration of song
singing OPEN
And then what …
slowly again this
floor
Gravity memory …
is
a small pocket book by Steve Paxton…
Writing slowly is different
than writing at normal speed … feel the pull of
this paper
taking time,
Gerry against the wall
a portal looking into something …
and then,
a chandelier …
(light is so many things)
a language,
a weight … suspending stories into air
from the ground.
from the book written during the first practice …
Piet
The history of light
like a foot in the snow!
A swift slowness of shadow
On the ground.
…
Is the history of wood still traceable?
Guy
Lie down and rest
A song of light
A trapped squirrel
Screaming
?
Put the light on
Lin
I remember how beautiful it was to watch Gerry write in
the book at the very beginning. I love to watch people write. It seems to be such a physical act.
The man is leaving the stage … I am writing still… perhaps and yes,
the story goes on in sound, the woman has taken the paper
To this table; she is beside me; and has taken off her pants; she wraps herself in the paper; it sounds like a waterfall…
2.
The estate of an arm
the way it extends …
this long line of arm, heart, shoulder blade and along …
Where does it come from?
-your name
-your mother
-your place in the sky
-a universe of arms
…. and then …. your arm
reaching.
3.
The way a word
is geography; an
arm; is a place
of measurement …
And your feet are
resonance; this is
a song and I am
writing it down;
Landscaping …
4.
A walk in the McCauley neighbourhood
Sound walking,
Realizing this is always
or often; the sense that
I follow …
Breeze … how it ruffles
my clothing …
Sun … warm vibration on skin,
This skin
Entrance to the park …
small and grand all at once,
Children playing,
This sound moving and tactile
in my ears.
More walking and details
of landscape,
a hill … two of them
-each with 3 rocks
-a back alley looks like somewhere to dance
sounds become a soundtrack to this walk … occasionally
fading; replaced by
bees and colour.
“it’s not philosophy, it’s acoustics.” Slava Egorov
How to become
smaller: let the
word contain the
resonance, just
like Stephanie
singing in the
cardboard box.
6.
Follow through,
the trespassing part;
Follow through,
trespass away,
where does this word
come from?
tress …. passing …
passing through illegally.
She made her own
house; and sang a song …
We all sing along.
Why don’t they make an opera with everyone lying on the ground?
“they have,” said Guy.
7.
day three
(full moon)
I am sound
in the background
found and found and
found
ground and ground and
ground
protect the field
the sound found ground
history is naked
alive and wrapped
around
this sound
snot
silly
sensual
seemingly
soulful
opera on the ground
everything going backwards
to freedom to freeing
to fuzzy
to warmth of the
sound in the ground of this body.
The background is texture, energy
and
Nothing at all …
So small.
8.
At a further distance
How failure
How truth
How word
How to solve/dissolve
Art
Into something found on the ground.
9.
Distance of the third day
A lens that focuses
Chaotic into liveness
What am I saying?
This is not the truth
History will tell you so.
She is history
With two unbelievables,
A knee that is tender
And a broom;
Alchemy and anarchy
Dancing, dancing, dancing.
“history sticks to your feet”
says Piet.
10.
Stretching the heart (recipe)
Give 5 people
paper
things to write with
in a
beautiful room
with 3 doors
that go outside
to a lobby
an office
and a back alley.
Give time for stories and
dancing to go on and on and on and on and on and on and on
Give a man a silver
tray to begin
and a sweatshirt to
keep him warm
for the ending …
Keep the door to the back alley open
so, the wind is always
present.
She loves the sound of
writing so
de temps en temps
make sure there is writing.
Wrap all articles in paper
including the ladder
because it needs to be sent
a long way
into imaginary landscapes
and it’s a long long way to Tipperary,
on the road to nowhere.
Keep the space clear
because she is writing a letter
to a random stranger
“Dear Random Stranger”
Please take care …
It was a trick of balance
quite a number of times
so, include tricks of balance
that give gravity the benefit
of the doubt.
Especially when the silver tray
turns into a wagging tail
that leaves the man
without his pants
for the second time.
Keep mixing … especially when
it gets quiet in the
middle.
The recipe takes time and care
And haphazardly will never
quite cook up the
same way twice.
It goes on and on …
performance august 19, 2019
Stephanie begins
she walks slowly to the corner,
I am her witness
without my glasses, I see her
accurately as a blur.
She leans into the wall
she takes her time
unravels and replaces a piece of
Tape; it holds.
Joining her I feel like an
approaching tide … gently
navigating towards her
crashing at the same time
into the floor; then the
wall…and so we begin.
History doesn’t hold.
It’s a cup suspended on the
ceiling with a story
of how an injury
created an Italian Café.
Beside this studio
where the first café latte was served
by a man whose name
I am forgetting,
Have forgotten,
Might remember.
Gerry and I nap on a ladder
Guy and Piet dress, undress
exchange a naked dance,
a song comes out
Of the wall
Beautiful, from
Gerry; again I
am a tideline
repeating because it’s part of my nature.
Stephanie explains the
brilliant awesome
beauty of a sunset
on a TV table.
She builds a little
cabin in the corner of the studio
with a light … a lamp,
Again, she is settling something.
Dear Random Listener,
“I felt the need to clear the space.”
tak skal du have … I say to Piet,
The only words I know in
Danish; it means thank you.
There were many ancestors in the room,
and little people from Irish legends and myths, invisible, laughing
and hurrying us towards an
ending.
Guy was there at the end;
right after Gerry danced in
front of the open door … evening arriving …
lights behind her
haphazardly serene and odd.
We watched, all of us huddled in front of the door;
a changed point of view;
it was astonishing
and we were noisy.
The little people
were quiet, and
perhaps smiling at
Our glee.
Audience
Kristine Nutting
Jeremy Gordeener
Thea Patterson
Camille Renahrd
performance august 21
Piet begins on the wall, his hands
plugging into two circles, some of the first
marks made on the wall.
I don’t remember anything except the
awkward posture this gave …
strange
and compelling,
Stephanie responding by doing the same posture as Piet…
Piet is explaining installation art; and wants to
know if I am buying it.
… I respond with a question to
a statement he had already pronounced.
“How can a flower be forbidden?”
Then I take the
same awkward posture against the wall
(the law of 3’s)
“Listen” I say … eventually.
There is a newborn baby in the
room; his name is Axel, he is
making small sounds, he gives the
whole room a heightened presence,
as Guy tries to iron out all the
crumpled sheets of paper.
He takes the time needed to flatten them,
explaining that he ironed his
first shirt at age 40,
and that the best irons have
A good weight.
… images remembered ….
-Gerry’s feet on the wall,
-Gerry, Stephanie, Lin singing together… the song comes out of nowhere … big and full of joy.
-Dancing with Stephanie against the back wall, we both have no pants.
-Gerry and Lin also against the back wall, we have paper in our hands, we are strange angels
-Piet with the fury stool, running back and forth, the length of the studio and plugging the stool softly into the wall each time he arrives.
He repeats this action many times.
-Guy reading from the book something Stephanie has written,
-Then something Lin has written.
-Stephanie and Lin telling stories … (together and echoing the truth
with our hands that our families have Kindersley in common)
-Gerry lifting up the curtain at the beginning … we notice.
From large papers written during performance
History is suspended at 32.
The target has a Belgian army and no one really knows how
to shoot a gun; but their style is magnificent.
They are an odd bunch and they love to jump and jump.
History is odd and wears shiny trousers and changes clothes often;
is repetitive and laughs quietly.
I am writing, obviously.
History is writing,
Obviously.
This is the last page,
What about history?
Lin Snelling
