His arm outstretched, walking in a decisive line towards me from the other side of the black box theatre space. Today it doesn’t feel like a theatre, somehow it feels more like the dementia daycare I used to work at. Maybe it’s the man dressed half as a gorilla, maybe it’s the knowing in the not knowing of your walk.
Gallaf deimlo, gallaf deimlo fy arfwisg yn haenu. Gallaf chwarae’r gêm hon, ond efallai y bydd yn rhaid i mi fod ychydig yn galed. Rydych chi’n cerdded i fyny atom ni, gyda braich wedi’i hestyn rhyngom ni. Mae’r ddau ohonom yn dal cymaint o barch at yr arfer hwn y mae’r ddau ohonoch yn ei rannu.
Rydych chi’n llawer byrrach na fi, rydw i wedi sylwi ar hyn o’r blaen ond gan eich bod chi mor agos rydw i’n sylwi arno mewn ffordd wahanol. Pan fyddwch chi’n codi’r chwiban i’ch ceg rydw i’n bychanu, yn paratoi fy hun ar gyfer sŵn atgas iawn, ond nid yw’n dod.
We know each other
The heaving movement of your chest is reminding me of my newly formed asthma. The breath escapes gently into the whistle making tiny, delicate, ‘wind pushing under an old heavy door’ type noises. I can smell garlic from your socks and it’s mixing with the mint on your breath. The fibres of the white plastic moustache superglued to your top lip are waving up and down at me, moving with your inhalations.
It is very rare that we are granted opportunities in our lives to truly see people, see them up close. We know each other through stories, memories, photographs, Instagram, and whispers. We are over-saturated and still needing more.
Live work is a portal away from that feeling. It’s an opportunity to truly be in a place, with people and their bodies, the beauty, pain, and uncomfortability of just that, being a body. The dynamics of watching and being watched, they sober us, isolate and bind us.
Mae lefel yr abswrdiaeth bob amser yn rhyddhad i’w groesawu. Pan fyddaf yn cael gofodau i ymroi i abswrdiaeth mae’n golygu fy mod yn dechrau gollwng haenau o’m gorchudd amddiffynnol. Os ydw i’n chwerthin yn ystod eich darn, rydych chi wedi creu rhywbeth lle gallaf chwerthin gyda chi, hyd yn oed os nad ydych chi’n chwerthin, hyd yn oed pan mae’n boenus ac yn ddifrifol. Mae’n ymateb nerfus ond mae’n ddiogel, dwi’n teimlo’n ddiogel yma i chwerthin a theimlo fy nerfusrwydd.
Hopping mad
I think that most of the time, the onslaught of information means my relationship to my deeper self is much harder to access. But somehow, in watching your absurdity, it allows me to tap into emotions which aren’t always so easy to reach.
Me in your thought process:
Every time the audio says dance, I’m going to hop on one leg.
Is that Richard Huw Morgan’s signature move?
Curriculum Vitae – Repertoire – Hopping.
Hopping mad.
Mae’r daith gyfan yn fy nghymryd i sawl cyflwr gwahanol o fy modolaeth emosiynol ond rwy’n teimlo angerdd dwfn, ac yn gofalu am y ddau gorff camweithredol hyn. I weld dau ddyn mewn siwt yn camweithio, cerdded yn barhaus i mewn i waliau, disgyn dro ar ôl tro ac yn cropian gyda’u trôns hanner ffordd i lawr, prin yn dal eu gafael ar bethau, yr wyf yn poeni. Rwy’n poeni llawer am hyn, am eich safle, safle mewn amser, safle yn eich corff. Nid wyf wedi cael sylweddoliad a amlygodd heneiddio fel hyn i mi o’r blaen. Am anrheg.
There’s such beauty in seeing grown, older men in acts of care together. In acts of togetherness, through time together.
Although I have to agree with JT, who named my Welsh as ‘pigeon Welsh’ recently, it was so nice to have it present in this work. To have this language, whose sounds and noises are so familiar to me, fill my ears and hold us, to see those in the space who do siarad cymraeg attentively listening. It gives us space from the definiteness of words, when we’re listening to them as sounds, they grant whole new meanings and support to the actions. It gives me room to question. Is it just a translation? Is it a whole section of new text? Am I missing something?
British Sign Language
Maybe I’m gaining something in the moment of missing. Is that what longing is?
Rydyn ni bob amser yn methu ac yn deall gwahanol bethau beth bynnag. Mae profi celf yn fôr o lawer o wahanol safbwyntiau. Weithiau mae gwneud gwaith ar y cyd yn golygu y gallai un peth fod â 9 diffiniad gwahanol. Mae hud yn digwydd pan gawn ni gyfleoedd i golli pethau, mae hud yn digwydd pan fydd gennym ni siawns i gael ein camddehongli. Dwi’n bod yn swrrealaidd nawr, anrheg arall.
Mae gwylio’r cyfieithiad i Iaith Arwyddion Prydain yn ongl arall lle dwi ar goll, yn camddehongli, taflunio, cysylltu … synfyfyrio …
The movements of BSL and their relationship with the two of you, plus your individual but shared language of movement is so beautiful to watch. Having BSL so present in the space, not to the side, but right here, in the middle, under the projection, translating.
It’s a dynamic I’m so drawn to as it adds yet another layer of understanding. It opens our eyes to other perspectives and ways of digesting. The layering of perception and exchange of dialogues became so powerful. It’s the opposite of having a camera in the room, it’s another way in. Another way into
this,
here,
now.
Thank you for not having a camera in the room, the drawings were a delight.
