The dancer, the non dancer, the business man, the artist, the school girl arrive to a space. The space can remain without name. They are all there. The space becomes reactant to their numerous necessities and demands. As an observer, I can become distant from such formalities. The space becomes theatre, performance arena, quietly arriving towards a choreographic production. The space becomes their intimacy, a plot for encounter, for interaction, ignorance and modality. The space can be functional, with basic functions of the human occurring as robotic process. The air can on certain occasions become their only point of similarity. Allowing breath to fall in and out of solid lungs, refilling the air with each of their own scent. Such a point of similarity becomes a brief solidarity. Their movements for the best part of the act will be pedestrian. Raising one foot up from the grey concrete slab, suspending it briefly in the air, the subtle changes in weight, the nuance of the re balance as the foot is placed again to the grey floor and the other rises. Such action repeated in the forward motion propels the body forward. Moving through the space, in pace decided by the mind, in relation to the personal expectations as to what may arise and what should be decided for. The body by such account moves onwards. Direction in this circumstance irrelevant. The body, decided in part by the mind can remain in a stationary pose. An orrery of internal collisions. Focusing on the blood cells as they might fuse, collide, re grow and die. Zooming closer and closer past the hairs which lay erect on the arm in the autumn air. The dancer, remembering her years at the ballet bar begins, in a sense of unknowing of what else she should do in such apparent suspension of purpose begins with a tired grace to point her elongated toes through tatty shoes. She begins her performance, her eyes darting around the unknowing and unknown passers by as to the stature of her grace.
The business man grows tired also, mind restless to the tires of the exhaustion which he has decided to fall to. Reasons undisclosed. He surrenders, sitting placidly. His attention turns to the dancers feet. He stares fixated at his own, polished brown leather. Still.
The closeness of such performers is momentary, the suspension of their disbelief in part of the score which they reluctantly make an effort to understand.
