Internal Light

Days after attending the half-hour theatre experience that was "Internal" I still feel rattled from the emotional juicer I was put through. I'm almost uncertain now as I was when I left the space of how exactly to feel about what I had just seen. Personally, when I think of a piece of theatre that makes me question what's real and what's not, I think of something that needs to be a bit over the top that tricks the eye as well as the mind. However, this was done with just a couple chairs, five actors and maybe a bit of wine for good measure. But it packed just as powerful a punch as any hypnotist or hit of ecstasy could ever conjure up. Edinburgh Fringe favourites Ontroerend Goed, a Belgian theatre-performance group, brought their stagecraft to Queer Up North in Manchester for two nights to stage their intimate social experiment of a show. The format is simple, 5 audience members at a time in 25 minute intervals are lead to a space where 5 actors await them behind a curtain. What happens after the curtain is raised is really up to you and the actor and just how "personal you are willing to get." The space was lent by the Midland Hotel in the city-centre, which couldn't have been more perfect a setting. As you're led through the lobby and up a couple flights to what can best be described as a conference room dressed all in black, you pass by numerous bars filled with patrons having rendez-vous not unlike what you are about to experience. After I was told to stand on an "X" on the floor the curtain in front of me came up and naught but 3 inches in front of me was a stranger staring intently into my eyes. Now I must say, it may just be what I saw as an American, but each actor, with their mysterious foreign accents and pulchritude had the look of someone dreamed up for a game of "Mystery Date". Each as provocative as the next. After a few of the actors switched places I was led to one of 5 romantically constructed alcoves behind black, sheer cloth. I was offered a drink. "A Little Night Music" played in the backround. And a very Belgian stranger, Joeri, kept his gaze fixed and his questions heavy. I guess you could say it's one part speed-dating, one-part fortune telling, and two-parts escort service; minus, of course, that substantial bit at the end of the night. The actor asks their patron questions of love, life, fears, dreams then takes their hands, asking them to close their eyes and say what they see. Where are you now? What exotic setting or twisted dream? It all doesn't sound to hard to imagine but it's more than the usual "let's see how 'real' we can get with the audience." Because in this setting, you can't help but be transported out of a performance and suddenly taken into real life, or a version of it at least. A version where all the juicy bits are kept intact and the minutia thrown away. Hence the feeling of being in an emotional juicer. But how prepared are you to suddenly be thrust into a setting so intimate? How do you simply let yourself be swept away so suddenly. For myself i found it hard to not smile and hold back laughter the drollness of the game i was expected to play. I have a problem keeping my composure in such serious circumstances, I want everything in life to be funny. But the earnest and sincere qualities of these actors steal you away, and suddenly you feel compelled to reveal, to undo your public self, and give way to your privateness. To call it an exercise in vulnerability would be an understatement. It is and exploration and a revelation of human relationships, trust and, like it or not, our inherent loneliness.

The second half of this journey turns into something quite different. You're led from your cozy corners to a circle of chairs. Now comes the group session. Suddenly everything you've said is revealed to all in the circle. Many might feel betrayed, embarrassed or terrified by this. I found this part fascinating because, whether we can help it, these moments of betrayal of trust and ending up with that feeling of nakedness happen in our lives all the time. The actors ask no permission, your now up for grabs and splayed out for the immediate crowd to see. There's a great quote by Diane Arbus.

"Our whole guise is like giving a sign to the world to think of us in a certain way but there's a point between what you want people to know about you and what you can't help people knowing about you. And that has to do with what I've always called the gap between intention and effect."

Here that gap is exploited, as well as the human need for connection. I know this argument is already starting to get stale, but I must use it here: in this day and age, the slick and quick new ways being created to communicate by the touch of a button, palm, screen just doesn't make up for what it saved us from doing in the first place. Sometimes all we need is the touch of another person, or have someone look into your eyes and say "yes".

The "night" ended with dancing, the odd exchange of address, and awkward glances. It was a treat. I gave my address, you just can't say no to those guys. Much to my surprise, 4 days later, I got a letter. Now, in keeping with the game, I thought I might transcribe it here.

Dear Phil,
How light and lively your eyes looked - pity it was so hard for you to look into mine. I admired your decision to move to England out of love and that you got married, which is a beautiful thing. I hope you'll be successful in your theatrical career and find a way to prove relevance to the world, however "big" that might sound...
it was lovely to meet you
kisses,
Joeri

What a peach! And excellent penmanship I might add. This piece really stayed with me after I left the theatre. In my head, my gut and my post box. And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.