May Day is becoming a memory… Looking back on Rhinoceritis in the Making, after the imaginary curtain falls and I’m left alone with myself, I keep reflecting on the lessons learned that never seem to stop coming.
I did a lot of preparation, but somehow it still didn’t feel like enough. There were some real technical glitches—not huge, but enough to throw off my vision a little. And there were emotional glitches too—unexpected, unplanned, and completely out of my control.
I realize that practice is what prepares for those moments, and this time, I had preparation but not much practice.
That’s the nature of conceptual performance. So much energy goes into the idea—the concept—while the performance itself is handed over to the body. And when the body is not fully ready, you feel it rebelling against you.
If it weren’t for Jerzy Grotowski, one of the founders of experimental theatre—a mentor I wish I had met, I wouldn’t feel so at ease with the discomfort that came from all the glitches, technical and human. Although, if you think about it the technical issues are also a result of the human ones.
At the heart of it, we, humans, are the source of all glitches. And the lessons learned? They’re the result of that ongoing process where “what is dark in us slowly becomes transparent.”
Digging into those uncomfortable layers is why I make art. “Not in order to teach others but to learn with them.”
“The spectator likes easy truths. But we are not there to please or pander to the spectator. We are here to tell the truth.”
That was my truth. Those moments where things didn’t go as planned, when the video projector didn’t work, when I could feel myself thrown off by my own strong emotions.
During the Rhinoceritis in the Making Q&A session with Tiffany Du Mouchelle, Joel Hunt, and John Aaron Troy. (Photo by Irene Haupt)
In the end, during the Q&A, between the generous energy of my incredible performers and a receptive, open audience, I felt grateful. We were all in it together. In spite of all glitches, it was a good night. I think Jerzy Grotowski would’ve been proud of me.
PS: Text in quotes by Jerzy Grotowski, Towards a Poor Theatre.