16.05
Did it matter that it was in ‘real time’? That the show went up at the appointed time?
That sense of excitement and anticipation about a beginning.
Sitting at the top of the stairs: looking down into a shaft of red light. People passing me on the stairs. The sounds of the Arts Theatre production office making cheery managerial telephone calls as a different sort of show materialises in the vapour of the red light on stage. As the performers descend the stairs the sounds of the last minute ripping of masking tape drift upstairs.
‘Is everyone here?’ says Simon
Is it better to open or close the door between the stairs and the dressing room/office area? I feel placed between the two. I hear voices from far off, perhaps the auditorium. I hear the word ‘mask’ coming from the stage? I hear a small plane.
‘Has everyone got a mask?’ asks Simon. I only hear one ‘yes’ in response. I decide to close the door.
‘OK’ says Simon, ‘5 minutes’. S comes upstairs.
[Is it important that this happened in a theatre, on a stage?]
The meticulousness of the preparation for the work is in evidence: a spare sort of possession of the space appears to be appearing, I sense from afar.
This five minutes, is it a hiatus? Are we being ‘switched on’ to various telephonic and telepathic channels? Are we waiting for anyone’s arrival? Expectant and quiet seems to be the atmosphere, as if everyone is looking ‘off’ somewhere, deeply.
I hear a hum, is this the vapour machine?
17.56
Tim comes upstairs again, removes his earpiece and sits. He is like a Kabuki or No actor, comfortable in the elaborate yet spare formal confines of the work.
6 flashes
And the drone of an overhead helicopter.
[Is this the war? Are we on the ‘home front’? It is impossible to speak about without sounding clichéd.]
18.00
3 knocks. Tim coughs once. Stands. Pauses. Coughs again. Descends & enters.
Caprice.
Penultimate
Ultimatum
Female gasp/fall?
Flutter of footsteps (catch?)
[Numbing headache] cold back
18.07
Tim back upstairs. Does he make the lights flash? Tim checks the time.
‘Lucky old you!’ says Danny down the telephone and replaces the receiver.
Accommodating commentary.
Tangle of footsteps + sharp female cry
[Hasn’t it finished yet?]
18.14
[Is this the West End?]
3 knocks/ and a tumble of what sounds like logs. Tim stands, coughs.