A durational dance work exploring time, distance & memory through T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets

Sunday 20 June 2010

Summer Solstice


From East Coker I | Four Quartets

In my beginning is my end. Now the light falls
Across the open field, leaving the deep lane
Shuttered with branches, dark in the afternoon,
Where you lean against a bank while a van passes,
And the deep lane insists on the direction
Into the village, in the electric heat
Hypnotised. In a warm haze the sultry light
Is absorbed, not refracted, by grey stone.
The dahlias sleep in the empty silence.
Wait for the early owl.
In that open field
If you do not come too close, if you do not come too close,
On a summer midnight, you can hear the music
Of the weak pipe and the little drum
And see them dancing around the bonfire
The association of man and woman
In daunsinge, signifying matrimonie -
A dignified and commodiois sacrament.
Two and two necessarye coniunction,
Holding eche other by the hand or the arm
Whiche betokenth concorde. Round and round the fire
Leaping through the flames, or joined in circles,
Rustically solemn or in rustic laughter
Lifting heavy feet in clumsy shoes,
Earth feet, loam feet, lifted in country mirth
Mirth of those long since under earth
Nourishing the corn. Keeping time,
Keeping the rhythm in their dancing
As in their living in the living seasons
The time of the seasons and constellations
The time of milking and the time of harvest
The time of the coupling of man and woman
And that of beasts. Feet rising and falling.
Eating and drinking. Dung and death.
Dawn points and another day
Prepares for heat and silence. Out at sea the dawn wind
Wrinkles and slides. I am here
Or there, or elsewhere. In my beginning.

Saturday 5 June 2010

so said the little bird, listening in the tree












Realise that I forgot to mention, shock horror, that on the evening of the performance, weary from my 3 hour 40 minute Eliot marathon, I walked like a bag lady to a little park in the middle of Coventry, and sat on a bench under a tree to eat my supper (M&S superwholefood salad which had leaked all over my bag, if you want the bare facts) and a little bird listening in the tree very kindly shat all over my props bag.

I think that says it all really.

art, dance, life, taking yourself too seriously.... no chance

Huge thanks to Vicki Smith for the amazing photos

Wednesday 2 June 2010

mission accomplished

We shall never cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time through the unknown remembered gate when the last of earth left to discover is that which was the beginning at the source of the longest river the voice of the hidden waterfall the children in the apple tree not known because not looked for but heard half heard between two waves of sea quick now here now always a condition of complete simplicity (costing not less than everything) and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well when the tongues of flame are infolded in the crowned knot of fire and the fire and the rose are one.

And now I need to go on T. S. Eliot de-programming therapy....