This weekend four boys and girls went looking for the missing things. Without hesitation they went to where it hurt. And what they saw, they shared.
Figure of Speech Five had a wonderfully frightening and moody atmosphere, perhaps only adequately described as a petal delicate voice juxtaposed against ‘skin calloused grey.’
The audience was engaged in utter stupefaction, impatiently watching to ‘see what bad things happen.’
A dark aesthetic percolated every pore of the performance, yet no moment or movement was ever made to feel unduly heavy or overbearing. No tone or step appeared to question itself, although with only three rehearsals there were earmarked spaces for improvisation. The evening swayed from frenzied spurts of anarchy to a steady drum beat to a jazzy bass. Imaginatively painted locales varied from a smokey bar to a war-warn alley way. The talented Rob Clutton could not have set a more ideal instrumental tone for this performance. Meanwhile, Celine Marks took an interpretive approach (from poetry to music) to composing her movements. Each poem made its impression distinctly.
Amai Kuda’s vocal performance was utterly uncompromising and piercingly emotional. With the exception of a few planned arrangements, her improvisations organically married with each poem performed. Kuda also composed a song of her own for this performance, which acted as an interlude within a poem and displayed a fiery message of social justice.
At the centre of the performance was a rather singular poet, Phlip Arima, appropriately dressed in military-casual attire, sporting wild short-chopped purple hair. Arima led the small gang of mercenaries, so to speak, along with the audience, through the darkness. Every poem called forth a distinctly unique voice - often weighing heavy on the heart, as with the voice of a child; often terrifying, as with the voice of a mentally ill homeless woman.
In speaking to Arima, it becomes immediately clear that every nuance of his work is precisely refined. It contains subtleties that may be lifted out by a more mature audience while fully allowing a fifteen-year-old to connect to each and every piece on an emotional level.
What more can I say of Phlip Arima? He is a curiosity - he doesn’t quite think on human terms, which enables him to, simply put, notice relationships which others cannot.
Figure of Speech Five was a delightfully morbid smash. Here is to many more to come.
Edited By: Kit Cat (http://tinyurl.com/3a5bzhq)
No comments:
Post a Comment