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This is the fourth installment in Stories from the Strange Side, about my adventures and explorations into less conventional forms of theatre—specifically in coursework I did at Grinnell focusing on avant-garde performance art. Darkness envelops you, the only illumination a low slice of red cutting across the stage, casting the suspended figure in harsh scarlet relief. His feet rest in rope loops just a few inches above the floor, head hanging on his bare chest, hands gripping his tethers. You and your classmates shuffle in, halting a decent distance away, and his gaze slowly rises to meet yours. Almost imperceptibly, he begins to swing. A little lean to the left, a bigger rock to the right; bit by bit he gathers momentum. A soft tune escapes his lips as his movement grows. Bum ba-dum dum. His arc widens and widens. Bum ba-dum. That melody… Bum ba-dum dum! Ah-ha. Bum ba-dum dum dum! A collective chuckle ripples through the audience as the Indiana Jones theme comes into full swing. He’s flying now, each push taking him higher, his full-throated rendition of Williams’s masterpiece echoing through the theatre, relishing the soaring freedom of his movement. And when it seems he can’t rise any more, his eye catches on something below. Enraptured, he swiftly winds down and crouches in his ropes, gaze locked on the floor. The apple casts a long shadow in the sharp light. The figure slowly rocks on his haunches, considering. Bit by bit he eases himself horizontal, ropes and torso taut, fixated. He begins swinging again, urging himself forwards until within snapping distance of the apple. Jaws close on empty air again and again, until they finally bit down on their prize—but his teeth lose purchase, sending the apple rolling out of reach. His gaze slowly lowers to the floor. His motion slows and ceases. He hangs, contorted, confounded. Scene. Prompt: Introduce yourself to the class Discovery: Atmosphere is everything.
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