If You’re Going To Try, Go All The Way

In inter-human relations, there is always a barely perceptible moment of interpretation. Be it a timid movement or an extremely loud scream, the output produced, if witnessed, will stand for a sort of intersubjective act. Contemporary performances, in designing their shared space with the audience, often try to transcend the preexistent forms of theatrical acts, combining different nonverbal elements. “I am a poem” stood for one unique compositional mélange of colours, rustles, movements and moments of contact.

When spoken communication is missing, there are certain movements or sounds that one finds relevant and chooses to hold on to. They become central elements of a wholly understanding. The moment that bundled all acts in one thread for me was Charles Bukowski’s poem’s playback.

Go All The Way

“If you’re going to try, go all the way.

Otherwise, don’t even start.

If you’re going to try, go all the way.

This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs and maybe even your mind.

It could mean not eating for three or four days.

It could mean freezing on a park bench.

It could mean jail.

It could mean derision, mockery, isolation.

Isolation is the gift.

All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it.

And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds.

And it will be better than anything else you can imagine.

If you’re going to try, go all the way.

There is no other feeling like that.

You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire.

DO IT. DO IT. DO IT. All the way

You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.”

Unnecessary necessity

It made me think that the two performers were building up several scenes in which they were depicting the universal conception of human interaction and hardship that one faces when it has to “go all the way” solitarily. The moves seemed rushed and tensioned, but at the same time displayed an unnecessary necessity. There were parts in which they would be apart and parts when they would hold each other. Bits when they would leave and come back and other bits in which they would together strip their protective jackets. Nevertheless, the climax of humane construction, in our daily lives and as well as in the performances, rests in the white act of giving birth.

The stage was set for us to leave and lay down our thoughts, asking ourselves: where are we on our way? Did we stop? Will we go? Are we already going?