#plot is coming

Shadow Alastor, but he is your shadow.

There is a wonderful art scene in Glasgow. Every day facebook lets me know about three or four new performances, screening and concerts on, and most of the time (unless I know someone performing) I just ignore them. I really don’t have enough money to go out every night! But, once in a while something will appear that grabs my interest. With all my spooky experiences I was perhaps on high alert for similar things when I saw that one of my friends had clicked ‘interested’ on a late night event and clicked on the link.

Séance. The word instantly got my attention. As I read through the information on the event page it was clear that this was not a real séance – if such a thing exists – but merely a show exploring the mechanics and atmosphere of one. Still, this interested me. It would be interesting to see a deconstruction of some of the things I had experiences and if it was terrible I’d still get to see my friends. So we went.

The show took place in a tiny venue in town. We paid for our tickets and were led up to a back room that served as a performance space for various artists in the city. I had been there before a few times and was surprised to see how different it looked that night. What was normally a large blank room with windows on each side had been transformed into a shadowy space, black curtains hanging from every wall to shrink the place down to just the centre of the room. In the middle was a large dining table covered in a white table cloth and set for a dinner. Ten chairs were placed around it, four on each side and one on each end. Several candles in ornate holders were sitting, unlit, on the table. To the side was another smaller table set up for audio and lights with a focused looking technician. We were all handed flyers as we entered that gave a brief background on the performers and the history of séances. The idea was to perform one with the audience in full understanding that it was merely a show – in other words to examine the atmosphere a performer can create and how easily that can be interpreted as supernatural.

I thought it was an interesting idea, but I was unsure how well they would pull it off – after all they were hiding nothing – the technician was right there, they had already explained various tricks. Still, it looked fun.

The performers arrived – a woman and a man, who sat and the two ends of the table and invited audience members to fill up the other seats. There were about twenty of us in the room so the rest of us gather around behind the seats, surrounding the table in a ring of bodies. Someone behind us turned out the lights and we were suddenly plunged into darkness.

There was silence for a few long minutes, with nothing but the sound of people breathing and moving about, when the woman suddenly spoke in a low, deliberate tone.

               “We will now light the candles. Please stay back.”

I heard the seated audience members moved back in their chairs and the man and woman lean forward in theirs. A flicker and a burst of light and the first candles were lit. In a few seconds all of them were lit – six candles that lit up the centre of the table and illuminated the faces of those seated. We who stood were still completely in the dark.

Silence again for a few moments and then the man spoke.

               “Everyone sitting please hold hands and gaze into the candle-light.  Everyone standing also gaze into the light. Let your eyes relax and focus on the flame. My partner will now attempt to go into a trance state and we will start the séance.”

At this moment the music started up, something soft and electronic. It was relaxing, strangely, standing in the dark, looking at the flame. It reminded me of meditation exercises I did sometimes. I felt everyone around me gradually stop fidgeting and focus. Clearly the performers were using psychological tricks as well as physical ones in their act.

The woman began to make noises, first humming under her breath, the nodding her head up and down and moaning in a deep throaty voice. The music rose in urgency as she worked up to a loud groan, then threw herself back in her chair and was still. The music died down to just a low beat. We all craned in to watch her.

She began to speak again in a different tone – gravelly and cracked. It must have hurt her throat.

               “Spirits…if there are any spirits here tonight…oh spirits…please…let us know if you are here.”

She lifted her arms sharply, still holding onto the hands of the people on either side of her and the candles flickered dramatically. The music stayed as it was but I could hear the technician moving behind me and wondered what he was about to do. Suddenly I heard a sharp knocking from the table. Someone gasped in surprise then a couple of people stifled giggles. The woman lowered her arms and continued in the same odd voice.

               “Spirits….please…let us know who is with us tonight…Speak through me.”

She collapsed in her chair with a sigh, her head lying on the tablecloth. Then, with a loud rumble, the table began to shake. The plates and cutlery upon it rattled and the candles shook, turning the calming flames into headache inducing flickers. I closed my eyes for a few seconds to stop myself feeling sick. The shaking continued until the woman sat up again and opened her eyes sharply.

               “I AM HERE.”

She spoke in a different voice once again, or so I thought. Her lips were moving but the words were oddly out of sync. The voice sounded deep and masculine. I glanced over at the man and noticed that his lips were moving too. Ah, I thought, another trick. Impressive.

The man began to ask questions of the ‘spirit’, answering each one after a pause, the woman still staring out across the table (perhaps in order to better lipsync) and mouthing along with the responses. The audience was silent and I stepped back in my mind to acknowledge how convincing and powering the show really was. If they hadn’t made it all so clear that it was just a show I might have been wondering.

The spirit began more sinister all of a sudden, taking offence at the line of questioning and the woman shook violently. Fog – or rather dry ice – spewed up from behind her as she shook and the man began to shout over her sudden screams that something had gone wrong and that we had to send the spirit back. He gave us words to chant over and over as the music became fast and dramatic. The table began to shake again and someone on the other side of the closed door began to bang loudly on it. Then, finally, the woman collapsed again and we stopped. The music died down to a calming hushed piano and the man relaxed. We were all silent and still for a few minutes then the man and woman leaned forward together and blew out the candles. Darkness for a few seconds then the overhead light came back on. We all blinked and shuffled about, adjusting to the now very ordinary looking room. The people round the table let go of each other’s hands and shared embarrassed, joking glances. The man and woman stood and bowed and we all applauded. Then we applauded again for the technician and began to make our way out. The man announced that they would be at the bar after cleaning up to answer any questions about how the performance was done. I located my friends and we got ready to leave. One of my friends had a bag with her that she’d put in the corner out the way and it took her a couple of minutes to locate it, so when we went to leave we were the last audience members. Or so I thought.

As we climbed down the steps towards the bar we began to chat about the show. I was behind my friends, careful on the stairs as the shoes I had picked were particularly impractical. From behind me I heard voices and idly eavesdropped as I picked my way down the metal steps.

               “Well I thought it was okay.”

               “Okay? It was a mockery! Mediums were respected in my day, I’ll tell you!

               “Mockery? All it did was point out an ancient scam! Mediums hardly respect us you know! This was a good thing I’m telling you!”

“Ugh, all you ever want to see is low production artsy nonsense. When can we go see a movie?”

“A movie?? Where is your culture? This grows us as people!”

“It’s a little late for that!”

I looked round and nearly fell over, clutching at the guard rail as I saw who was talking. Two figures, both dressed in long jackets and old fashioned looking hats were floating down the stairs behind me. They were both blurry like the figure on the bridge and the figure at the college but this time were only a couple of feet away from me. I could see the stairs behind them as they descended, their feet never quite touching the ground. One of them saw me staring and tipped his hat before throwing back another retort at his companion. I pulled myself back up onto my feet, gave an awkward nod back at them and continued my way down the stairs.