PLAY / PERFORMANCE WORK FOR DANCE / THEATRE
AUTUMN'S GlITCH
LYRICAL DANCE PERFORMANCE, COMBINING DRAMA, MUSIC AND THE BEAUTY OF TRAPEZE DANCE.
CAST LIST
GAIAM
MUSE 1
MUSE 2
MUSE 3
HOMELESS MAN AND DOGS
FIVE ANDROID WOMEN WITCHES
CALDER MOBILE MEN
RADIQUET
JEAN COCTEAU
NIJINSKY
ARDHANARISVARA
HAG
Program Notes
This work was inspired by Muses streaming in realtime as I typed. GAIAM, Earth's muse for creativity is worn down from all the narcissism she fights while helping 21st century artists thrive in such chaotic times. In the story, it is standard custom for muses to regenerate themselves by infusing into creative geniuses just before they die. And this is what the other muses think GAIAM is doing when she disappears into the mortal world. But, GAIAM instead tries to insert herself into the 1930's just to mentor Jean Cocteau (French surrealist). She chooses him for his love of mankind, and genius which is a spirit she wants to infuse in all of us. But, she ends up getting foiled before she can finish her mission.
This play concentrates on the struggle of the creative artist to find renewal. Renewal can surface unexpectedly or explicitly. This play uses the means of living through the senses, death of the ego, despair and compassion to renew.
In this 21st century branded, diode lit, sanitized high tech lifestyle, renewal, and renewal ritual is becoming more and more precious. This play is meant to draw people to each other. This and future work on the theme of renewal will be used to elevate mankind into a transcendental plane of deep connectedness, shining warmth, love and compassion. It is in this astral voyage where we can transcend all space and time.
Entrance
All audience members enter on a runway into a tent. Wood nymphs recite poetry and hand-out secret notes to various people. The tent or entrance area illuminates in scented candles and beautiful harp and bamboo flute music. The audience can choose to frolic inside the tent or go into the theater. This magical, carnival atmosphere runs for about 15 minutes before the play.
ACT ONE SCENE ONE
GAIAM ENTERS THE STAGE CARRYING A LARGE CLOTH BALL (ABOUT 10' IN DIAMETER) ON HER BACK. SHE SETS IT DOWN, GRABS A TRAPEZE BAR AND BEGINS TO FLY AROUND THE STAGE. THE BALL BEGINS TO PROJECT IMAGES FROM THE 1930'S ERA. CUBIST AND SURRREALIST ART, AND SCENES FROM JEAN COCTEAU'S BLOOD OF A POET FILM PLAY. SATIE MUSIC AND A MONTAGE OF AUDIO IMAGES ARE SETTING UP THE FEEL FOR THIS ERA. THIS OPENS THE PLAY FOR 5 MINUTES WHILE SHE TRAPEZE DANCES IN DISTRESS. IN THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES, PEOPLE IN 1930 PERIOD DRESS ON 1930'S BICYCLES ARE CYCLING ON STAGE. CHARACTERS DRESSED IN SURREALIST FASHION FLIT ON AND OFF THE STAGE WAVING UP AT HER.
SHE FINALLY STOPS, AND FALLS IN A COLLAPSE ON THE STAGE FLOOR. MUSE ONE ENTERS SCENE ON A TRAPEZE BAR.
AUDIO: SATIE'S GYMNOPÉDIES (1888)
A "NAKED" PIANO STRUCTURE IN WHICH LONESOME AND SINGULARLY EXPRESSIVE MELODIES CIRCLE LIKE FALLING AUTUMN LEAVES; A MONOTONOUS, LOW BASS LINE ACCOMPANIMENT, AND AGAINST IT SOFTLY DISSONANT CHORDS IN THE MIDDLE REGISTER, CONSTANTLY REPEATING THE SAME IAMBIC RHYTHM-PATTERN. TOGETHER THIS CREATES AN ATMOSPHERE OF VAGUE MELANCHOLY, OF MYSTICISM AND EXOTICISM. PERHAPS THERE IS ALSO A FIN-DE-SIÈCLE FEELING, EVEN SOME SALON NOSTALGIA.
Muse 1 (VOCAL is mimicked through a scratchy surface of sound, played through the audio track)
Gaiam's muse is down, alert, alert; Earth's creative muse is down. Bud dawn.
ON THE STAGE, 3 MUSES SWING ABOVE GAIAM. THE MUSES DANCE ON THE GROUND AND IN THE AIR ON LOW FLYING TRAPEZES, HOOPS, ROPES, FABRIC AND OTHER SUSPENDED APPARATUS IN A FRANTIC EFFORT TO REVIVE HER.
GAIAM AWAKENS AND ACTS OUT THE FOLLOWING POETRY IN A SILENT DANCE ON THE STAGE WHICH IS SPOKEN BY THE MUSES.
Muse 1
Astral silence consumes her perfume gaze at the speechless Robins. Her shadow shivers in the early morning breeze, intoxicated in this emblazoned scent. Moments seem airy aquarium green. Dawn succulent orange of August skims across her limbs. Trees and sea entice her heart smitten by the brash rose bud dawn. Her fairy feathers glitter morning glow, perfect morning gaze, dancing whirlpools in dawn transfigured air.
Muse 2
A poet is what she collapsed from; he tried to coax the nymphs from the mermaid gardens cloaked in columns of light. Too cunning the genie but a poet with a bamboo flute and bestial wink of word to caress the line in red glow is as near as a breeze. Time twists for autumn to peak. Strains of words shake, almost tremble from swollen stems working against shadowy cusps. The poet draws sound scent from her sandalwood flute.
VERMILION SPICE INCENSE IS NOW LIT BY MUSE 3 WHO PASSES IT TO MUSES 1 & 2 WHO DANCE INTO THE AUDIENCE AND SELECT TWO PEOPLE TO GIVE IT TO.
Muse 3
Released in this threatening air streaming leaves calloused prepare for worship wearing a gold and red sari and onyx bangles. Palms and stems dusted with bright vermilion spice heal wreathed in summers wane and autumns scent. Sacred basil, tulasi and sage twigs shed all over the world. As she lifts the flutes of compassion pulling drops of dew to make waterfalls of choir. A grand opus of Shiva, Parvati and Ganesh twirl in a dream. Facets, they embody the future, geometric jeweled processions of morning dew to carry them to the sea on the back of Ganisha. Meeting hints of eternal crystalline awakened. Awakened.
AUDIO: A THREE DIMENSIONAL SOUND THROUGHOUT THE THEATER OF THE WORD "Awakened", SPOKEN IN A MYRIAD OF VOICES SEVERAL TIMES. THE MELODY WILL BE IN THE FORM OF A CANTATA; YET SPOKEN IN A SERENE AND DIVINE ANNOUNCEMENT. SATIE'S GNOSSIENNE PLAYS, IT IS A SLOW AND MONOTONOUSLY UNDULATING ACCOMPANIMENT OF BROKEN TRIADS, A MELODY FILLED WITH LONG "ORIENTAL" MELISMA
(WITH JASMINE CUTTINGS WRAPPED AROUND MUSE 1 WRIST SHE SWIRLS AROUND ENCIRCLING GAIAM IN SWIRLING DERVISHES AND RECITES:)
Muse 1
Groves of mandarin orange, kiwi, persimmon and lemon soften the winds. Laying elegantly beneath the Iranian Tiger carpet GAIAM sits vainly avenging the massive five foot saber cradled in the gold thread interlaced sheath. Elegance is sculpted in this magical glow of slender, placid, and real. Fresh jasmine cuttings fall neglected as she wraps aloe leaves tightly around her trembling left hand. Her waist and wrists jingle cords of saffron yellow silk crochet bells. She feels her way through the craters of puddles leaking silvery vacant stares brushed-up against the slipping dawn.
MUSIC ENDS
Muse 2
We can't go on like this forever, filling in for her.
GAIAM COLLAPSES AGAIN AND MUSE ONE GROANS AT MUSE TWO.
Muse 2
We have got to find a replacement. I think she has sacrificed herself again; she died again but I fear not for the right reason. She has been smitten with Stravinsky's who wouldn't accept any artist until they first died to outer life...as she would say: (IN A SELF IMPORTANT VOICE) "the way the Phoenix was burned alive." (SHE LAUGHS)
Was it, yes, just last night I heard her ranting again; something like, (IN A HEIGHTENED DRAMATIC VOICE) "Only, and only when an artist has burned away what is false can one give birth to their real self." I meant to talk with her this morning that she is long overdue for another visit back inside a mortal; but I know she resists because her strength is wearing down from all these dam 21st century narcissists. Placid rains of solitary rebirth separated from all others, urging us through this mystical secret that is the source of art. How do we all renew our strength? My god we are MUSES after all! We should have all the answers! Dam-it all!! Oh GAIAM, she may not come back this time.
Muse 3
Come-on drop the drama, She'll be fine. We all know the routine. Grab a genius in their prime, meet them just before their last breath, diffuse into their muse and presto, renewed MUSE. She's fine. Let her be, she's fishing the waters.
Muse 2
This is not the same caper we pulled off with her and William.
MUSE 3 JUMPS IN
William Shakespeare Sonnet C
Where are thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long. To speak of that which gives thee all they might?
MUSE 2 JUMPS IN
Sonnet CI. O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends. For they neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
ALL THREE MUSES CONTINUE THE SONNET
Both truth and beauty on my love depends; So dost thou too, and therein dignifies.
MUSE 2
We barely got her out before he and his satire went to decay; how I hope we may be as lucky this time.
Muse 1
Well we have ourselves a new owner of Gaiam. LOOK!
MUSE 1 POINTS AND ALL THREE MUSES GLARE THROUGH THEIR SPECTACLES
MUSE 1
There she is. Emerged inside the hush of night into the buds of Marjoram. Oh look at our, our SWEET (SAID WITH DERISION) thief, this side of Utopia, via lava, when the sun goes darker in the sky, with none other then the poet and man of multifaceted genius, Jean Cocteau.
ALL THREE MUSES MOAN
MUSE 1
She helped him with Le Potomac. Gaiam's touch is all over it. She did this with Shakespeare and fell in love, we barely got her back last time. GAIAM has been fusing her muse with the brilliant Jean Cocteau! He's making his comeback. A whole flurry of brilliant prose, poetry, dialogues, confessions, journal entries, letters, fantasies and illustrations unconnected to anything exterior and devoid of any hint of plot or organization are sparkling in his eyes and ((LONG PAUSE WITH A WINK TO THE AUDIENCE)) GAIAM is smitten.
MUSE 2
(THE BALL ROLLS OUT ONTO THE STAGE, USING OPERA SPECTACLES LOOKING INTO IT AND WALKING AROUND IT. ADD TO THE SOUNSCAPE MIXTURES OF BIRD VOCALIZATIONS)
Well we need to go in and get her. Who's game? Look, oh Look!
ALL THE MUSES LOOK WITH THEIR SPECTACLES
MUSE 2
I believe I can see him now, he's just been recently commissioned to create a ballet for the Ballet Russe's new choreographer Massine, who had taken over when Nijinsky fragility surfaced while on tour in America.
(speaking to MUSE 1)
You go check on Nijinsky and we will check in on the Ballet.
MUSE 2 AND 3 EXIT
ACT ONE SCENE TWO
MUSE 1
Dragging their wings, the fairies fly into the misty blue-scape. Grapevine valley lusts thunder's howl. Both crave night and sky passing into another. Brown bruised clouds roam surreal skies lifting caramel breezes of manicured light in quivering white.
DARKNESS, SAVE FOR THIN RAYS THAT SUGGESTIVELY REFLECT MIST PERMEATING AN UNDERWORLD FROM WHICH GAIAM IS WALKING INTO THE MORTAL'S MIDDLE WORLD.
GAIAM
The net of branches shimmers like a fresh catch of mackerel shielding me one layer from the entire bliss. It's heart is ringed with alder knots, feathered and shrouded with last summer's ghost clawing through cobalt blue screams. Under dogwoods that cut away the steamy dark blue. Sparking seeds off the moon a new century turns. Moonlight stew cramps inside my veins. The glow, it is everything balancing this fugue of color, form and light.
(GAIAM whispers)
I'm not going to live through another death.
MUSE 1 HANGING ABOVE HER
Only still moonlight captures. You can't pull veins for the future.
GAIAM (Looking up and around her)
Where are you from?
MUSE 1
Heart, landscapes and glow. You see me because I died last summer.
It made the moonlight clear.
GAIAM sits quiet now focused above her.
MUSE 1
The world around the trees, peaks, clouds and stars have been borrowed. Blazing the cracks just up from the beach. You warm the fires, where we await GAIAM. You see how women are cored in half. Spread your arms wide, ripe and aloft. Paint a grapevine of white, grapes of glow. Fists full of glow.
MUSE ONE IS LOWERED ONTO THE STAGE, AND SHE WALKS AROUND GAIAM.
GAIAM
Feel the sun's fire living wordless. Feel the kiss we want. Feel the lilly need of a wild seed. Punctured by the moon pressing its face. My breath is scent of honey. The deep cave of my navel hides a store of scent. My mouth succulent as a ripened papaya. Pressed in kisses is his taste of ginger. Pleasures and sonnets one cannot speak of.
MUSE 1
My body is quivering. Fixed in fire scent. You must come back, we can't do this without you.
STRAVINSKY'S RITE OF SPRING PLAYS
GAIAM
Forest mist, speak to us with your flute.
MUSE 1
Sing to the star candle minds
in this mindless expansion, this place.
GAIAM
The trees reach out chocolate pine essence in this mist. Oh look how the bees blush from the naked rose.
MUSIC IS SCREECHED TO A HALT
MUSE 1
I need your help, she is in too deep, she doesn't recognize me.
MUSE 1 Being raised-up in a hoop, and casting a spell SHE RECITES
MUSE 1
Soft fire adorns her female charms. Woe to weak mortals who try to mingle in her light shore. Infuse your limbs with her glorious beams.
Soft light streams.
SEVERAL DOGS (10 OR SO) WALK ON STAGE WITH A MAN, LOOKS LIKE A HOMELESS TYPE, IN PURPLE SILK PAJAMAS. ALL HE DOES IS WAVE TO EVERY INDIVIDUAL IN THE AUDIENCE. STREET/URBAN SOUNDS PLAY IN BACKGROUND.
GAIAM WAVES AND FROLICS AROUND HIM, AS IF CASTING MAGIC OVER HIM, FULL OF GLEE AND DELIGHT.
GAIAM
The greeting, the meeting of the glance connects the lineages. Listen to the glance, just as you can hear gardens whisper. Iris dense with greeting curls it's boughs of petal full moon, full feathers a bud found in a glance.
ACT I SCENE III
FIVE ANDROID (MUSCULAR/MECHANICAL GARBED) WITCHES ENTER THE STAGE WITH GAIAM and Muse 2. MUSE 2 WHO IS HANGING ABOVE THE WITCHES RECITES WHILE SWINGING ABOVE THEM:
MUSE 2
WE NEED A "MOTHA" LOAD OF MAGIC MY ANDROID GODDESSES. NOR SHALL DEATH BRAG OR NATURE'S BREATH GO CALM; GIVE GAIAM WILL TO FLEE AND I WILL FREE YOUR SOULS TO THE MUSE OF GLEE.
ANDROID WITCHES
(WOMEN EXCHANGE TURNS IN EACH LINE. THE LINES ARE DIRECTED AT GAIAM WHO SEEMS TO HEAR THEM, BUT IS NOT SURE.)
ANDROID 1
You expand into fallen golden leaves
ANDROID 2
artwork and jewels of the landscape
ANDROID 3
all its fertility and wealth
ANDROID 4
it's a commemoration of its own glory and that of the fruit.
ANDROID 5
Let us evolve, evolve the bones and moans of Sumatra, Borneo bones, place of the Orangutan.
ANDROID 1
The people of the forest shoot orange at us, injecting new souls.
We cannot make it balance.
ANDROID 2
Let us ride atop the jaguar,
ride up Araucaria, into the canopy of orchids.
ANDROID 3
Dressed like Kurdish nomad women from Erzurum in black scarves around our face, yellow drapes of cymbidiums weaved through our hair. Striped sash of indigo taut over our belly. Apron dress and sweaters for shopping at the bazaar.
We will shop to bring GAIAM black prayer beads to pray.
ANDROID 4
I see a pod protected, pregnant well attended.
ANDROID 5
The sea is full of fairies.
ANDROID 2 & 3 in unison
The sea is the future. We pray the sea is full of forest spirit where
blue sonic whale songs dissolve off into the forest for fruit to fall.
ANDROID 4
The future is a mere spec on the lives of the forest, the sea.
ANDROID 1
We will converge the sea to the land, but you'll need a poet companion to flank you in the orchid canopy as you emerge from the sea.
GAIAM skips (giddy) off the stage, happily.
MUSE 2
No, no, you are encouraging her. Useless, why, why, why! Dam she is down for good, you androids! You diabolical souls. How can I explain what your hearts refuse? Go back to Andromeda, whose black bosom starved your pubescent plumage. Swirl off into the curdling suns of Orion. You've conned summer out of spring. Cellular sex of polymer puberty, you genetic bouquet of bacterium. Aliens; go calcify into a celestial sky.
THE FIVE ANDROIDS, WICKEDLY LAUGH
MUSE 2 GETS ON THE CELL PHONE (sneering at the Witches)
MUSE 2 PACING BACK AND FORTH ON THE PHONE
MUSE 2
Looks like the primeval atomic witches, well-heeled in their sultry steel, raped spring again. Smell the malodorous winds sweep-in, propelled by their sulfuric radioactive broomsticks. I'm telling-ya, give it your good ole vaudeville tenacity today. Nothing short of a total metamorphosis, we're going in with apothecaries from Venus. Let' s romp!
MUSE 2 GRABS A HOOP AND FLYS AWAY.
ACT II SCENE I
ON A SURREALIST SET. 10' HIGH CUBIST TOP HAT PROPS ON STAGE, CUSTOMD dESIGNERS FUSSING OVER PEOPLE. JUST A VERY SURREALIST SCENE. THIS CONTINUES FOR ABOUT 3 MINUTES AND THEN STAGE CLEARS. PROJECTED ON THE WALLS OF THE THEATER ARE EXHIBITION ANNOUNCEMENT POSTERS FOR ARTISTS IN THE 1930'S ERA. MUSES 2 AND 3 ARE HANGING ABOVE THE SCENE.
TWO MEN ENTER THE STAGE (WEARING VERY CHIC BUSINESS SUITS, CARRYING CALDER MOBILES)
Man one
Rene Dubos, in his reflections
Man two
upon humanity and its development of societies, had much to say about our cities and their structures;
Man one
and he asserted:
Man two
"Le Corbusier
Man one
tried to integrate sunlight,
Man two
direct sensory
Man one
experience of the elements,
adding: "Throughout
Man two
his professional life,
Man one
he [Le Corbusier]
Man two
tried to integrate sunlight,
Man one
clouds, stars, and winds into his creation.
Man two
Left in shatters with the skeletons
Man one
still beating in nature's soul
Structures of sky, creating columns
Man two
of the streams sing
Man one
Frozenless and abandoned by spring,
Man two
crystal rainbow ring.
Wedged, in a dead cricket's frost dust. Caught in the racoon's surreal hands. Panting its glide up the maidens thighs. Bent between the cracks of ice halls. Sauntering up real close to nubile calls. Swaying in the moonlight fall. To hear the moonlight crystallize deep green air.
Aching for it to last no less then a year. Moon shirking residue Sticking to my ear.
Man one
To live the whole night alive
adrift, under the full moon?
Man two
To be the night alive inside
the white moonlight. Weaved inside the maidens spindly Ivy plight.
Man one
In a wondering glance longingly for spring's chance.
THE MEN WALK OFF
MUSE 3
There she is. NOW she's entered into the second man. There!
MUSE 3 POINTS
Do you see him? She is inside Raymond Radiquet; Cocteau has taken him on as his mentor, but Radiquet is actually changing Cocteau's style back to a simple classicism.
MUSES 2 & 3 DO SOME KIND OF CREATIVE FLIGHT OF TRAPEZE DANCE WITH A 15 second boogie woogie piano lick. GAIAM AS RADIQUET REENTERS STAGE WITH JEAN COCTEAU SKETCHING.
GAIAM AS RADIQUET
"The times are full of absurd, meaningless, negative art. There is just a general lack of anything of substance to say. We need clarity, precision. True art is transparent.
MUSE 2
O gallent artists. You are awakening. Happiness is a surer sign of wisdom.
MUSE 3
The 21st century is calling
Cocteau.
(Looks up at Muse 3, and sort of speaks to her, feeling as if someone is there.)
It occurs in (PAUSES, LOOKING UP QUESTIONINGLY) in, the, those moments when people are not aware they are witnessing art at all. (DEEP SIGH)
People feel art in presence of the, yes, the fundamental and elementary facts and sensations that underlie reality! Smell, listen, taste and study the classics Cocteau. Sit in front of a masterpiece and adapt its eternal truths to modern times. In times like these, when frauds and charlatans seep inside corporative media,
GAIAM AS RADIQUET
(POURS WATER OVER HIS FACE)
...it is more important than ever to invent new forms of art. To, to yes separate your brilliance from the falseness that has given art a bad name.
WALKS INTO THE AUDIENCE
GAIAM AS RADIQUET
Madonna are you listening? Surreal TV, more real then real itself.
Who knows old man Cocteau your Ballet Realiste may one day be the next 21st century magic cable hit.
Ha, but of course unlike today, 21st century types may just sit around dummied down by a magic box with nothing said. Cocteau you have something to say. Invent and separate us from the falseness.
LAUGHING NOW
No, no, god, let's hope not. How could people sit around and just...Oh, they won't stand for it. They will make their own life swell up and realize how extraordinarily precious gardens of gardenia are.
(GAIAM AS RADIQUET LOOKS UP AGAIN VERY IRRITATED AND JUMPS UP ON THE STAGE AND TURNS TO THE AUDIENCE)
Or will they?
MUSE 3
There lies the dark root of the scream Cocteau.
MUSE 2
Ok, what are we going to do NOW?
MUSE 3
Well, I think poor Radiquet is just going to have to suffer an untimely death at a young age. But let's let Cocteau finish his adaptation of Sophocles' Antigone. Picasso is designing the scenery, and the costumes are by Coco Chanel, her first theatrical work, and Tiresias is played by Antonin Artaud. He is at his height of his creative genius.
THE MUSES DO ANOTHER DANCE ACROBATIC DISPLAY WITH SOUND EFFECTS OF PERCUSSION DRUMS BEATING
MUSE 3
We will need to give him Typhoid fever.
MUSE 2
GASPS
MUSE 3
I know, it will be an excruciatingly painful and a lonely death; he will be abandoned and avoided by nearly everyone. It will be unfortunate for Radiquet, but an important lesson for our GAIAM.
ACT II SCENE II
MUSE 1 IS NOW AT AN ASYLUM. PEOPLE IN GREEN SMOCKS RANDOMLY WALKING AND INTERACTING DURING THE NIJINSKY DIALOGUE
MUSE 1 listens hanging above NijinskyÉ
NIJINSKY
Bootsy my boy,
NIJINSKY POINTS TO ONE OF THE CHARACTERS
NIJINSKY
the bag pipe magician, EXCLUSIVELY talks to paintings. Certain people call him paranoid schizophrenic.
He knows which paintings transmit eternal light. Superimposed likes bells ringing. It is all wrapped-up inside a turpentine tea seeping a misty green hue that hovers us here.
NIJINSKY LOOKS UP AND POINTS
MUSE ONE COUGHS AND SQUIRMS
NIJINSKY
I guess he sees the impression of the entire universe as light.
(He crouches down as if telling a secret)
I have to tell you something that might interest you, wait, you know which planet I like most?
Pluto. And you know why?
Because it's the planet furthest from the Earth. And also from the Sun. It's the coldest. And, and...Andromedia is the nearest galaxy And the number I like most is hundriillion. Four white pills and one green pill. What is contained in that dry rub?
Sound, images, visions. Some look up into the sky and inhale Angels.
NIJINSKY LOOKS UP AND SHAKES ENTIRE BODY
MUSE ONE SWINGS AROUND ANGELICALLY
NIJINSKY
I ask you: Do you believe in the soul? Ca cuz the shape of the soul is ffa fa for formed by the mental health of the person. Wah, Wah Wait, wait, did you hear that....pools of pure sound shadows just got sucked-up!! Lord, do you hear the screams of bare breasted buds? Sniff the air with me, come-on sniff.... ahh wait.. 7 new people were just born. And then there is Jean.
NIJINSKY WALKS OVER TO HER
NIJINSKY
She's tattooed Egyptian eyes
on her thighs. She calls it her shield of innocence. I call it Unutterables! They take you to a place where winds burn louder.
Self-mutilator prodding her fleshless joints. A 50 year-old outcast, brunette with an obvious right handed past. Oh heavens, see these, these birds, burdened little sparrows. Flaunt, soar, ruffle yourself to galaxies away from here.
MUSE ONE PERFORMS AN ARABESQUE ON HER BAR
NIJINSKY
Here comes Regina, SHE is my sister kin....last night with Ricky, I heard her telling him...
SPEAKS IN A SQUEAKY, SCRATCHY STYLE FOR THIS QUOTE
NIJINSKY
"Well I love these rollers. I sleep with them cause I feel the pain, the thorns on Jesus' crown and the blood runs down."
(NIJINSKY almost crying now)
Ah to OZ with the pain Pray, pummel the pain. Stun our instincts.
Vault of thorns. Witch doctors, voices of the ancestors, guided by the atrophy. Messengers of Spirit, speak. My muse gets purged with your injections. Vacuum out the voices, bulging my eyes like warm fish. What I don't even appear. I wasn't born. There is no Muse.
My birth would be beautiful. To be born I had to be told that I would be happy. I don't know why I am here. It's in the air -- goosebumps give it away. Here, right here. They are here stronger than anywhere else in the universe. Here in this nuts hospital.
NIJINSKY LOOKS UP AND WAVES
MUSE ONE WAVES BACK
NIJINSKY
We are living spirits, soul ghosts who just don't float. Take a look around. Pretty soon you will know who is who. It is mostly in their eyes. Eyes oozing a rancid laughter, hurling, shaking the ground, vibrating into any crack of marrow. Not for softies here. I love it, pretty soon, you can't live without it. Gregory boy loves to sweep. Look at him.
NIJINSKY RUNS OVER TO HIM AND LIFTS HIM UP
NIJINSKY
He tends his gardens of captive sky. Tending porous seeds of light. Don't think there is any innocence in the breath of pearly toothed Gods. At night he shows me his binoculars. He uses it to stare-down "PRIVATE PREOCCUPATIONS" he says. Twinkleling eyelets, rainsaw ellipses. He say's my father's ghost always comes into view,. Ole pops de de doodles green, gray strings of light, kind of like church spires. My weekends are out of the hospital at wakes. When I can find company, I sit far above tears and drink endless coffee, never asked to leave.Nuts today! I feel socially radiant. Yep, did you know China is the coming power of the 21st century that is Ziploc tabletops. Non-objective China -- piped-in-organ music -- but not too material or insufficiently mystical. Don't call me a collector -- I really don't know China very well. Let's go have ourselves a glorious ziploc tabletop picnic partyhop with the ghouls. Well come-on with ya.
MUSE 1 SWINGS DOWN AND TAPS NIJINSKY ON THE SHOULDER SWINGING FROM ABOVE
MUSE 1
Ah my most wonderful Nijinsky, you know us, you understand the plights of being a muse. Please, we have a very important mission; it is Raymond Radiquet; he's dead; and we need you to interpret through GAIAM at his funeral.
NIJINSKY
(BREAKING DOWN IN TEARS)
How could you, t,ta, take take him! Our b,be, best! And in his prime! You aren't muses! You just lust our best! No, ne, ne, nev, never will I help you.
He runs off.
ACT II SCENE III
FUNERAL SCENE:
NIJINSKY SITS IN THE BACK
ALL THE MUSES HANG ABOVE NIJINSKY, NONVERBALLY CASTING SPELLS WITH THEIR HANDS. EVENTUALLY NIJINSKY WALKS UP TO WHERE GAIAM IS LYING. HE TOUCHES HER, EXCHANGES PLACES, AND GAIAM GRABS A TRAPEZE BAR ABOVE AND SWINGS WITH THE MUSES. NO ONE AT THE FUNERAL NOTICES
GAIAM
No, I'm not here because I'm in love with Cocteau! "Love! Oh Moon. Birth! Immortal! Unbearable openness of this world and Love! It's for the 21st century! I wanted to unwrap the leathery ball of narcissism; reach into the purity of genius; connect the consciousness using Cocteau's love, heart, purity and genius. His depth of love swept the sand off the face of surrealists with his delicate brush; HIS excruciating openness of love Ð almost unbearably beautiful -- I'm the muse to train the roses to climb the stone walls so the moon pulls higher into the night's dreams.
GAIAM NOW SHAKING LOOKING VIOLENTÉTROUBLED
GAIAM
But you've driven your shovels into the roots and now fear is shivering out the ecstatic. Look at Cocteau
ALL THREE MUSES PULL OUT THEIR SPECTACLES AND LOOK INTO THE DISTANCE
GAIAM
in his opium den now; lord help the 21st century.
ALL THREE MUSES MOAN IN UNISON
SWINGING ON TRAPEZE BARS, THE MUSES UNROLL THEIR COLORED SCARVES AND TWIRL OVER THE ENTIRE STAGE
GAIAM
Unbearable openness of this world and Love! When I open to it all, Glory, Glory, Glorious! My body shakes. Through and over and after the bosom of sky, star, sand. Gaze in jewels of light Ðparticles absorbed in each infant, each rock, hill, EACH GLORIOUS SCENT. "The God-spark, supreme fiery spark, blue flame, bird of fire, the subtlest part of fire, body, spirit, ghost in the machine, throng of the invisible, the necessary fire, I cannot see my soul, but know 'tis there. How will I flame the fires of creative inspiration without returning?
THE SCENE ENDS WITH NIJINSKY SITTING UP IN THE CASKET
ACT III Scene I
NOW THE LARGE BALL ROLLS OUT. PROJECTED ON THE BALL IS SATIE'S "SPORTS AND ENTERTAINMENTS" PIECE WITH CHARLES MATIN ILLUSTRATION Bird of Paradise, from La Mode En Mil Neuf Cent Douze. Chez Marcelle Demay. Pub.1912 PROJECTED IMAGES OF STRONG FEMININE CHARACTERS DANCE ON THE WALLS AROUND THE PLAYHOUSE. ARTWORK FROM RICK BERRY (https://rickberrystudio.com/) WHICH IS OF ANDROID LIKE WOMEN PAINTED IN OIL, OF BLUES, SEPIAS, GRAYS ARE ALSO PROJECTED ON THE PLAYHOUSE WALLS.
QUOTES ARE ALSO ILLUMINATED UP ON THE WALL. SAMPLE QUOTES:
The temple bell stops
But the sound keeps coming
Out of the flowers
-BASHO
"You must be the change you wish to see in the world".
"A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history"
"For me, every ruler is alien that defies public opinion"
"Non violence is the greatest force at the disposal of mankind. It is mightier than
"AS OUR CHARACTER DETERIORATES, SO DOES OUR TASTE" ---LA ROCHEFOUCAULD
"CHANCE REVEALS VIRTUES AND VICES AS LIGHT REVEALS OBJECTS." ---LA ROCHEFOUCAULD
THE BALL NOW PROJECTS A FIRE GLOW OF ORANGE, AND THE WORD VESPAS (SUNSET) DISPLAYS
ARDHANARISVARA (HALF MALE, HALF FEMALE GOD SIGNIFIES THE INTEGRATION AND COMPLETION OF MASCULINE AND FEMININE) DRAPED IN RED, YELLOW, GREEN, BLUE AND WHITE SCARVES SWINGS ON A SWING OF IVY COVERED ROPES. GREGORIAN CHANT PLAYS IN BACKGROUNDÉ..THE CHARACTER RECITES REPEATEDLYÉ.
Ardhanarisvara
How do I get in?
THIS PHRASE IS REPEATED EVERY 60 SECONDS FOR 10 MINUTES WHILE PICKING UP THE FOLLOWING MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS WHEN SWINGING DOWN TO THE FLOOR. BELLS, CYMBALA, FLUTES AND MARACAS LAY SCATTERED ON THE FLOOR. ATMOSPHERIC MUSIC IS PLAYING VERY LIGHTLY, GENTLY. PHOTOGRAPHY FROM FIFTY-SIX SACRED SITES AROUND THE WORLD ARE PROJECTED TO EVOKE WHAT THE ANCIENTS CALL GENIUS LOCI, OR THE SPIRIT OF PLACE. DURING THIS 10 MINUTE PERIOD, THE FOLLOWING OCCURS: VERY CREATIVELY, HAND SEWN AND SELF STYLED FASHIONABLY DRESSED MEN AND WOMEN, AND CHILDREN MINGLE THROUGHOUT THE AUDIENCE HANDING OUT NOTES SPRAYED WITH PEPPERMINT, EUCALYPTUS, YLANG-YLAND AND GARDENIA SCENT WHICH INCLUDE SEEDS GLUED-ONTO THE SURFACE. THESE NOTES EACH HAVE UNIQUE HAND WRITTEN IDEAS ON LEADING A CREATIVE LIFE. NYMPHS DRESSED IN COLORED SCARVES COME OUT AND SPRAY A FINE MIST OF WATER AND HAND-OUT MOUTH-SIZED PORTIONS OF EXOTIC FRUIT, AVOCADO, MANGO, STARFRUIT, PASSION OR KIWI FRUIT. THE WOOD NYMPHS INSTRUCT SOME COUPLES HOW TO OFFERÉBY RUBBING THEIR LIPS, NIPPLES AND NECKS WITH THE MORSELS, TEASING, AND TANTALIZING.
GRADUALLY DARKNESS DESCENDS ON THE STAGE AND A FULL MOON RISES (THE BALL GLOWS WHITE). THE WORD MATIN (MIDNIGHT) PROJECTS ON THE BALL.
GAIAM AND ALL THE MUSES ARE ON STAGE IN HOOPS THROWING CONFETTI RANDOMLY
ENTER
HAG
SKELETON BONE NECKLACE JANGLINGÉRED FISHNET LACE BODY SUIT, BLACK BODY PAINT, RED LIPS, RED HANDS, TEASED HAIR.
A FIVE PIECE PERCUSSION BAND, SITTING IN THE AUDIENCE WALK OUT TO THE AISLES AND PLAY A BACKGROUND BEAT.
HAG
Who out there feels fear?
Give away into the night sky what is hurting you DO NOT let one single person in this audience
feel fear any longer. A silence is offered, offer it up. NOW
NOW NOW NOOOWWW
WAIT 15- 30 SECONDS, WHILE HAG HUMS
HAG
I am here to collect your fear seeds. We will plant them in the ground, hoe them deeply into soil and give intention to how you fear.
SEEDS ARE DISTRIBUTED TO THE AUDIENCE BY A CONFETTI LIKE FALL OVERHEAD, THROWN OVER THE BALCONY INTO THE SEATSÉTHESE WILL BE WHITE SEEDS, DUSTED WITH SPARKLING CONFETTI, SHINING A BLACK LIGHT TO INTENSIFY THE WHITE REFLECTIONS OFF THE SEEDS.
GAIAM
During the long winter nights,
particularly during the solstice,
the sun lingers longer in the ground. Feeding the dark earth with its fire impregnating the depths
after several moons of gestation
Your seeds will transform and blossom forth upon the earth's surface renewed fresh as a violet
watered in blue dew. So sink, sink, sink your fear seeds. Deep, deep, deep beneath the ground. Now and every evening.
WHILE TWIRLING IN DERVISHES, THE HAG FIGURE SINGSÉPROJECTED ONTO THE BALL IS THE WORD VESPERS (SUNSET)
HAG
The ground and sky weep. The ground and sky weep. Sadness has taken from me this autumn rose eulogy, shawl’s of silence. Seep, Seep, Seep. Release your vanities of desires, and know this body of yours is borrowed, impermanent and it will die. All of us will fall into the hands of death. All affairs of the world are impermanent, so calm your mind stream.
HAG EXITS
GAIAM, AND ALL THE MUSES HANGING IN HOOPS ABOVE THE STAGE, dangling colored scarves.
GAIAM
(Speaking as she is lowered to the stage)
May all beings be happy, content and fulfilled. May all beings be healed and whole. May all have whatever they want and need. May all be protected from harm and free from fear. May all beings enjoy inner peace and ease.
May all be awakened, liberated and free. May there be peace in this world, and throughout the entire universe. Pray for Peace. Pray for Peace. Love Forgive Accept. Pray for Peace. Pray for Peace.
GAIAM WALKS INTO THE AUDIENCE
GAIAM
Before you go, remember sisters we consecrate the sacred.
Women out there in the audience, bathe in your spirit scent. It is your feminine incense that opens the magic locked inside the landscapes dire and looking so withdrawn and spent these days.
Your men will soon allow the landscapes to just be. But it all begins with sisters. It begins with the sweet swollen scent of the companion sisters.
Stage goes dark
END
((Note: The handwritten notes that were randomly handed out gave instructions to be sure that they spread the word amongst the audience to wait to be ushered out row by row))
THE AUDIENCE WILL BE ESCORTED OUT BY CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY ROW BY ROW, AND THE MUSIC THAT WILL BE PLAYING is REMINISCENT OF EASTERN TRADITIONS OF MULTIPHONIC VOCAL STYLES SUCH AS TUVAN THROAT SINGING, THE CHANTING WILL SHOWCASE A MÉLANGE OF MINIMALIST INSTRUMENTATIONS, WHICH CREATE AN ALMOST VISCERAL SPIRITUAL ATMOSPHERE WHEN PLAYED ALOUD. THESE CHANTS ARE NOT INTENDED SIMPLY AS ENTERTAINMENT, BUT AS PRAYER, AND ARE IN FACT SHORT EXCERPTS FROM MONASTIC RITUALS THAT MAY TAKE MANY HOURS OR DAYS TO PERFORM IN FULL. THE SPIRITUAL WEIGHT IS FULLY PALPABLE, AND SHINES CLEARLY THROUGH THE MUSIC.
COCTEAU WAS A FRENCH ARTIST AND WRITER, WHO MADE HIS NAME WIDELY KNOWN IN POETRY, FICTION, FILM, BALLET, PAINTING, AND OPERA WORKS. HE REFLECTS THE INFLUENCE OF SURREALISM, PSYCHOANALYSIS, CUBISM, CATHOLIC RELIGION, AND THE USE OF OPIUM. IN HIS TIME COCTEAU WAS A PROMOTER OF AVANT-GARDE STYLES AND FASHIONS, AND HIS FRIENDS INCLUDED SUCH PROMINENT FIGURES AS PABLO PICASSO, THE COMPOSER ERIK SATIE, THE WRITER MARCEL PROUST, AND THE RUSSIAN DIRECTOR SERGE DIAGHILEV.