Repetition.
Repetition.
Repetition.
Repetition.
Repetition.
Repetition…?
This is getting boring now.
Repetition.
Okay you get the point.
The basis of all theatre images in idea, a motion, a notion – something finite which can become infinite in the right contexts. An image can be complex in its composition and its execution. But it can also be nuanced in its subtlety. Complexity does not necessarily correlate to quality. If an image conveys a meaning and/or ignites a feeling in the viewer, the image is successful. The majority of images performed in Sorry Spencer were composed by repetition, until we found that something which would stick.
An example of this would be the line of dialogue ‘It feels like I’ve been bitten by a man with a mouth full of razor blades.’ In the rehearsal I experimented with tone, volume, intonation in order to truly discover the gravity of the words. I envisaged the line to be delivered in the style of a soliloquy, as in directing my thoughts to the audience and not to the other collaborators. This could be potentially because of the descriptive nature of the text. I responded to the idea of being shot and didn’t attempt to re-create it. If I were to do that I would merely say: ‘I’ve been shot.’ This once again emphasises the importance of responding, not creating to material. ‘It feels like I’ve been bitten by a man with a mouth full of razor blades’ was repeated quietly, loudly, softly and aggressively. This could be considered one element of the image. If the speech is at the forefront, the visual must inform and enhance. ‘The visual must be so compelling that a deaf man would sit through the performance fascinated.’ (Wilson) The image was complemented by Josh repeating ‘Sorry’ whilst running back and forward, leaving a trail of talcum powder. Considering this, my dialogue would appear as a token gesture without Josh completing the image. It would be fair to say that the contamination of an image, allows it to be re purposed into new contexts. This allows the image to constantly metamorphosis and stops it from stagnating. Responding, not re-doing, made this image possible.
Moreover, this dialogue was repeated at the end of the performance. Considering the implication of performing this image alongside Josh, what could the impact be if the image was contaminated by twenty five minutes of material performed? It gives the words even more gravity. We responded to Spencer throughout the performance and this was all brought to a culmination when these words are uttered, closing the cyclic process of the performance. It is clear from my reflection, that repetition for repetitions sake is a trap. An utterly pointless, potentially pretentious trap. How can I repeated image evoke and change in the viewer, without changing and refocusing itself. It must be contaminated into new contexts. Furthermore, it is possible to contextualise this notion within the context of infinite and finite games. An image is finite, yet when contextualised appropriately – its journey become infinite. Constantly adapting its own ecology to become mirage like, as opposed to something static. Throughout this entry i’ve discussed the potential for an image to ignite the viewer. This transcendent experience cannot be quantified or measured. We are only able to speculate that if a viewer were to remember an element of an image in the months to follow. The image would create an infinite ontology in the eyes of the viewer. To conclude, a repeated image must not remain as such. It must be morphed, changed and return in new contexts in order for it to maximise its full potential. To become infinite, it must shed its finite coat.
Repetition
Repetition
Change it
Bring in Josh!
It’s changed
Its infinite.