Sleepy all day, getting up late, nearly lunchtime, slobbing around all afternoon then too quickly i’m almost late and so… towards WUK again. The second night is… not so much hard as unknown. Opening is preceded by all the rehearsals and then a day of leading in, so there’s tiredness, nerves, immanent departure, like being launched in a space craft, everything impels towards that zero second when things commence.
The second night is, usually follows the first relaxing day in a while, and so is a mix of things, tiredness from the end of preparations, sometimes feeling too relaxed and so getting too nervous as a consequence, wondering if it will be as good or not as good or what, no first night hysteria to rely on, and so how to find something new in what we do, to not slip into a pattern, to not become old and dead.
Less people, calmer also, a faster start. I take off my trousers in the clothing section and find I am completely adhered to the floor, having to shunt myself along with my shoulders and skin. Funny in a “oops, that didn’t work at all” way.
I heard some people thought from the first night we were too isolated within ourselves, almost mechanical in progressing through tasks, so to find some way of being in this when not doing things. I have less to pick up tonight, a badminton shuttlecock, Barbara’s badge, some threads and fluff. It is much warmer also, and so we all sweat and are drenched. Jessica and I drag Elodie, and I pull her too far into the river, half submerged, splashing a few people in the front row, Elodie’s mouth and eyes open circles of shock and surprise. She and I have kept each other amused during rehearsal pretending to eviscerate ourselves with sharp swords, guts flopping out, blood fountaining.
It’s over so fast. Once we get to the second night, I creep again to Barbara’s sleeping patch, so much cooler than the trapped heat inside a zipped tent. Suddenly it’s dancing girls, deep strangeness, the theatre piece, running, finish.
I can’t run. The lights in the theatre have burnt iridescent blobs into my retinas and in the darkness I can only see with my periphery. Bodies hurl into vision out of this blindness, I’m completely disoriented, groping, expecting to be plowed into, or on the one time I do run, to slam into chairs or tents or a wall.
Theatre was fun this night and felt… I became relaxed a little in the complete uncertainty of what I should be doing and what might come next, and in this calmness found maybe a way to observe the madness and not be so freaked out. It has been the mountain for me. The first half and second morning are much hard breathing, exertion, familiar pushing with my body to get through, but the theatre… oh, the moment the light comes up is a small horror every time.
We finish, surprise it’s all over, begin to dismantle everything. It happens rapidly with some drinks and much loud music and dancing. The settlement is in piles. People begin to depart for the last time, and at midnight we move, leaving WUK finally for this time, to the Burgtheater again and instead of dancing sit on the lawn outside talking, eating, till dawn. More people depart during the night. I’m tired and not tired. I want to see these people till the last moment, till it’s finished. And soon the sky lightens, a bird, street cleaners, early jogger, a tram, more, awakening, and we leave.
My last day in Vienna. Sleeping till midday, doing washing from a week of stink and dirt, domestic things today and hopefully to see a couple of people later, and maybe Tony Rizzi’s show. I could lie around here all day. My brain is fuzzy cottonwool also my mouth, I’m hungry from depletion as much as needing to eat, soreness has crept out and made itself known, I need to pack, also to clean. I want to see something of Vienna, to go to Arsenal also. I wonder in all this isolation these two weeks what happens there? Tomorrow morning to Zürich. Another return.