This evening I was sent a link to the blog for this performance piece which is a part of this years Absolut Fringe. The post titled “// This One’s For You //” really struck me. I’ve seen some of the promo videos, and the piece features the partner of a friend of mine, so I’ve been aware of it for a little while now, but I didn’t know anything about this aspect of the piece:
“Please anonymously submit part of your story to a performance of Paradise Dance Hall; and release, hold on to, or acknowledge your ‘ghosts’.
Every time we perform Paradise Dance Hall, we will pick one name at random during the show, and then offer a dedication to the one[s] you haunt, or the one[s] who haunt you. It will happen live, and for one night only”
Co-incidentally, the day I was linked to that is also the day of Limerick Pride 2010. This is seemingly completely unrelated, except for the fact that last years Limerick Pride was the last time I hung out with a friend of mine before he passed away. We went for the weekend, having not seen each other in while. He helped out with shOUT! during the parade, and we had a brilliant time enjoying the festivities of Pride.
His passing was the first time a friend of mine has died, and shook me quite a bit. He’s been in my mind again lately, because of Limerick Pride, but also because I was switching cars and recalling all the memories from the old car: two major ones feature him strongly. It’s not the anniversary of his death, but it is the anniversary of the last time I saw him, and reading that post about the ones who you haunt/who haunt you really hit home more than I expected it to.
I guess sometimes you don’t even need to see the piece of theatre to have an emotional response to it. I wanted to get to Limerick Pride this year, but couldn’t for various reasons, so I think it’s only fitting to use this opportunity as a way of marking the year instead.
It ends with a mysterious bruise, a long-distance dance, and a swallow tattoo to guide you. It starts with the people you haunt, and the traces of those who left without explanation.
[…]
It will not be sentimental, but it might be beautiful.
Pingback: Windmill Lane _81 | The Urban PhotoJournal()