drop ππ» the ππ» rest ππ» of ππ» the ππ» individual ππ» portraits ππ» mario ππ» (especially ππ» the ππ» one ππ» of ππ» paul ππ»)
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Beginning of my writeup of Tim Neo & Theo Pat; letβs see if I can finish this one
Β All he can do is wait.
----
Wait for a signal.
Time slips away from his fingers like sunlight. He lifts up his hands and tries to grasp it. It's warm and orange, like sand on the beaches of home. The sand here is black.
Neoptolemus has discovered that he likes that colour, which seems to envelop him everywhere he goes: Above, the burning sun; below, the curls of a man. Together they spent what seemed like an eternity waiting. Waiting for the Watchman with her beacon. Waiting for a favourable wind that would take them to Troy. He doesn't care about the war, but staying here bores him to death. Once again they look to the beacon with hope. Once again they are thoroughly disappointed. He looks at his companion. Companion - what a strange word. Patroclus is like a brother to him. His best friend. But there's more, something he doesn't quite understand. He has all the time in the world but he never seemed to have enough time to comprehend his feelings.Β
He isn't sure who suggested sparring. Probably neither. Nowadays they can communicate without talking. He looks at the man and his hair with the sunset in it. He sometimes wonders whether they share the same soul or he just completes him. He is offered a serene smile as beautiful as sunset on the sea. He isn't sure who leans in first for the hug, but he clings onto him, like an anchor holding onto the ocean's bed.Β
So they spar. They've done this many times, to kill time. His companion quietly laughs. He doesn't smile back. He has to take this seriously. He's not just any soldier, but Agamemnon's second in command. He was made for war and killing. He grew up during this long, drawn-out war. And Patroclus, with sunset in his hair, makes him soft, and that's a weakness. Weakness is a luxury he cannot afford.Β
This is my most memorable LaocoΓΆn loop, with Timothy Bartlett - and maybe one of my most fondly remembered loops to date, for how involved I felt every step of the way. TBC is at its heart, of course, not really an interactive show, and the interactions that do exist are rare or fleeting. In this loop I had the very unusual experience of feeling like I was a part of the story, in my own small way.
...
I found him in his tent, just before reset, drawing a bird with his fingertip in the black sand.
Out of seemingly nowhere, he pulled out two ends of thick rope, and wrapped them around his body. Murderous snakes, constricting him.
He moves like a nervous animal, twitching and looking this way and that. He's not well, but he's aware - too aware, of everything. Of lights, of motion, of sounds that I didn't think were even diagetic. He hears the chimes, he concentrates on them, trying to work them out. What message are they sending him?
And then, there's the thing about... doors. He doesn't quite get them. He doesn't understand them and he doesn't trust them. Not once did he open a door - instead, he would examine it and pry it open the slightest crack, just wide enough for him to slip through. At one point, he decided he should be able to bypass the door entirely, and ran headlong into it - bouncing off and smashing on the ground.
After a moment with Persephone that is beyond the scope of this write-up, he returned to his pottery shop and sat down at the writing desk, setting to work with a piece of paper and pencil.
He closed his eyes, concentrating on the image behind his eyelids, transferring it down. Three silhouettes in graphite.
Outside, his city is under siege.
He took us out to where a crowd is gathering... He held up the paper towards the doors. Just then, the men burst through. Just like the picture, there were three of them silhouetted against the light. He pointed, and it was clear: there they were, he drew them exactly as they would be.
He rushed off to the sake bar, jumping through the window.
At the bar, he pulled over a tray, downing a shot of sake. Sand slipped out of his hands, materialised from nowhere, and he poured himself another shot. But this one was blood.
He drizzled it over the sand, in the shape of an eye. Took a bit of the blood on his fingers, and smeared a mark on the paper.
He slid the paper over to me. I took it, beaming, and held it tightly as he scampered off to the Klub.
He has a ring... a silver skull, like a tiny version of the skull mask that Cassandra is wearing.
He set down the sake jug, and his tiny skull, dancing around it ritualistically. I cannot describe the way Tim dances - words are not enough. You have to see it for yourself.
When his dance finished, he beckoned me to approach him. Through the window, he pointed: Agamemnon. The centre figure in the picture. His head smeared in blood.
On our way out, he pointed again, down the back of the bridge. It was Patroclus with Iphigenia.
Another blood smear - his days are numbered.
How could he have known I would stay with him? He couldn't, of course. If I chose to leave him, he would just abandon this thread of the story and find something else to do with his time.
But I did stick with him, and I was the only one to stick with him, even when he fled the Troy finale - I almost missed him slipping through the Palladium doors, but I rushed after him and we crossed the border together.
For one last time, he waved me over on the Mycenae mezzanine - we looked down at Neoptolemus climbing crates in grief. He took the paper and pointed out the figure, the only one without a bloodstain. The only soldier to survive.
Here, he left me, to shed his mortal garments and join the anonymous souls of the underworld.
---
As I came out of the show, a couple friends were gathered facing the Peep door, and they squealed and applauded when they saw me with the paper. What a fabulous connection we have, when they can look at a bit of bloody and yellowed paper in my hand and know right away the adventure I've been on!
Currently thinking about Tim Polydorus offering to shake hands with Kronos in Klub office not knowing Kronos was there to claim his life, and Theo Polydorus asking Hecuba 'where are my sisters' when the queen takes him to Polymestor not realising being the only son to a kingdom is different from being a daughter.
I love Ferghas and Jordan but I wish I could have had more time to see the swing Polydori.
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Yesterday on the Discord we were playing a fun guessing game that was REALLY hammering home just how integral a part of the performance audience perception is. Not only do the roles vary wildly depending on who is playing them, or even who they're playing against or even what day it is, but different audience members pick up different things. Although you and I might be peaceably sharing a loop and watching exactly the same performance at exactly the same time, maybe you're going to zoom in on the sadness in their eyes while I'm going to find myself more attuned to the comic beats
It's always been the wonderful thing about theatre, getting to see how different performers approach different roles, and particularly since they brought in the system of alternating casts and swings, Punchdrunk shows have always felt like a speed-run of that principle
So with this in mind, please accept this small primer where I briefly explain what I personally have taken away from every single Aegisthus to date in The Burnt City
Andrea "Loyal Aegisthus" Carrucciu - the cool thing about the OG Aegisthuses is that even though he has his own agenda in the story, that doesn't mean his relationship with Clytemnestra is any less sincere, and that is what has drawn me back to the character over and over (AND OVER) again
Paul "Devoted Aegisthus" Zivkovich - the key difference between the two OGs for me is that Paul always gave off the impression that his devotion to Clytemnestra was borderline agonising, that everything would have been so much easier for him if he didn't love her at all actually
Luigi "Elegant Aegisthus" Nardone - Aegisthus is my favourite dancey role, and Luigi just has an incredible way of moving, unbelievably expressive and extremely elegant, I could watch it for days
Steven "Disgusting Aegisthus" Apicello - if there are two things that can be said for this man's work, they are that 1) he always goes the extra mile and 2) he LOVES to spit!
Tim "Bitter Aegisthus" Bartlett - most Aegisthuses focus on the relationship with Clytemnestra, but Tim was clearly very familiar with the historical beef Aegisthus had with Agamemnon, and really let his hatred and bitterness shine through whenever he could
Harry "Fraternal Aegisthus" Price - had a real familial familiarity with Clytemnestra, one of the least sexual pairings, clearly just an old friend here to offer some comfort but mostly exploit connections
Ryan "Sexy Aegisthus" O'Neill - had a real sizzling chemistry with Clytemnestra, felt almost intrusive watching it, A+++, would voyeur over this casting again
Ali "NaΓ―ve Aegisthus" Goldsmith - like, he knew what he was getting into, but he didn't entirely get the full story of what he was getting into, and felt increasingly like a man who had got himself out of his depth but had to plough on with his commitments regardless
The Zagreus Napkin Experience, ranked in order from most to least traumatic:
Milton - this man is going to ask you personal questions, and if he doesn't get your answer, then he is going to ask you directly about it. Some people find this a wonderful therapeutic cathartic experience. The rest of us just want to die about it.
Will - if he can't read what you've written, then he very politely won't make a fuss about it. If he can though, there's a good chance he may say something that will pierce you straight through the heart.
Ryan - your mileage may vary depending on what it is about being napkinned that you find so mortifying. Here the questions are more-or-less incidental to the fact that this is a truly public interaction with zero sense of quiet confidence.
Theo - he doesn't seem to mind particularly what you write, which is quite restful until you realise that this lack of care means he's not going to make the extra effort to hide your napkin when pinning it up like the others do.
Georges - a rare but straightforward experience. Nothing to fear but good luck ever getting this casting!
Mitch - a gentle man and a gentleman. Doesn't seem to always do the napkin thing but is very respectful when he does, your secrets are safe with him.
Tim - doesn't napkin. Too weird. Currently fills the time with aggressive eye contact and extreme paper tearing. Traumatic in a different way.
Seirian - possibly a controversial ranking position considering he absolutely definitely reads your responses, but so beautifully carried out, felt like a genuinely collaborative act.
Luke - magnificently respectful! Will hold his hands up so he can't read what you've written, will fold the napkin up so no one else can read what you've written, absolute polar opposite of the Milton experience, a relief and a joy!
(Other Zags to be rated and ranked accordingly when opportunity allows)
((All Zags are majestic and wonderful and a strong recommend for a follow, for the record))
