Looking Forward

Abstract

Lean, blue-jeaned, shaggy-haired, they saunter toward unmarked seats — folding chairs or backless risers. Here and there an issue of The Village Voice bristles out of a jacket pocket, but no one scans the headlines; Vietnam is bombed again, blacks are arrested again, drugs are discovered again. The light discourages reading, but it is adequate for locating seats near friends, with a view of the uncurtained playing area. The programme is a mimeographed list of credits on cheap coloured paper, easily crumpled to the floor. The same cement floor leads to the playing area, on which are arranged — or disarranged — vaguely oval shapes of diverse colours. Desultorily, one by one, actors in leotards approach the ovals, depositing objects behind them. Independently, each actor stretches, twists, gyrates, apparently oblivious of the audience that gradually spreads through the seats. When electronic music sounds faintly, the actors co-ordinate into an arc to perform movements of Tai Chi Chuan. After the closing ceremonial bow, the actors take makeshift costumes from behind the ovals — that’s what they were carrying — and put them on.