At One Point. First intensive week of rehearsals

We've started working on this piece over a year ago, inspired by a monologue that kind of irrupted in one of our rehearsals. The monologue was about a moment of looking at your reflection in the mirror, for longer then you usually do, and having a moment of utmost clarity. Understanding something about being. 
We presented a work-in-progress in January 2015 after which we've left the material to slowly "cook" in our minds - Until now. 

First day of rehearsals for At One Point. which will premier next month at Rich Mix London. We started making this piece...

Posted by RL/P on Tuesday, 12 January 2016

We decided to start every rehearsal with meditation (We started with 10 minutes and quickly moved to 15) followed by 5-7 minutes of free writing. Meditation helps us clear our heads from the whatever was happening outside of the rehearsals space and also helps out point our attention to "hidden" things happening around us or inside us. This show is about a different sort of attention, much more heightened, to the things that happen under the surface of everyday life. 

Here's some of the things we wrote straight after :

I kept being aware of my body, my back was aching and it curved more and more as I went deeper. I counted my breathing 1 2 3 4 5 out 1 2 3 4 5 in 1 2 3 4 5 6 out 1 2 3 4 5 6 in 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 out 1 2 3 4 5 6 7. I got to 20 and my head started spinning. I went back to five and suddenly noticed that my legs were really tight and that my feet were going numb. 1 2 3 4 5 out 1 2 3 4 5 in 1 2 3 4 5 6 out 1 2 3 4 5 6 in 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 out 1 2 3 4 5 6 7. I’m curving into a ball and I want to be stretched so much until they almost tear me apart. Who are they?
— Nohar 12.1.16
Hugo is 29. He’s taking his usual journey o work on the central line to Bethnal Green where he works as a graphic designer. Unusually, he has a seat, and right now he is really hoping that no old, or pregnant or disabled people get on, because he is enjoying sitting down. He thought that he would have a chance to read a few pages of the novel he’s been unable to finish for the past few weeks, but he can’t be bothered to take it out of his bad. Instead, he sits and enjoys the pulsations of the underground. He tries to avoid staring at people so he looks up at the adverts above their heads. And between two striking adverts, one for protein shakes, the other for a baldness clinic, he is drawn to one far more subtle. “Visit Cyprus” is says. There is a picture of a sun setting behind an ancient temple. Hugo stares at the image and he can’t stop looking at the blazing white sun at the centre of it. It is sucking him in. He can feel the searing heat of it on his face. Very slowly, a thumbnail-shaped blackness starts to seep into the blazing white circle. Now Hugo feels cold, the things around him start to slide away. The darkness continues to grow, until the shape of another dark circle begins to show itself across the surface of the sun. Hugo feels a bead of cold sweat trickle down the side of his face. Slowly, the dark circle covers the white one, creating a perfect blackness, except for a perfect circle of light articulating the edges of that blackness. Everything has fallen away, the seat, the train, the other people. All that is left is the black circle, and the shuddering of the tube. Hugo feels he is seeing the kind of light that appears on the inside of your eyelids when you close your eyes in the darkness. Perfectly bright and perfectly dark simultaneously.
— Jonny 12-14.1.16
It’s like closing the curtains, the blinds, the windows, turning off the light or maybe just embracing the darkness that exists unless we shed light on it from the outside. So there’s darkness, you are surrounded with darkness and you embrace it, covered by it. But the darkness is rich, it’s a whole world, it’s detailed. It speaks a different language, it has a different frequency and you need to tune in. I remember I read about a whale that was communicating in a frequency so unique and unusual that no other creature was using. Sending signals into the abyss, the infinity, without ever receiving a response. That’s a whole other level of loneliness. But this darkness as I said, is rich and you tune in, and you see other colours, not just black and shapes that move around you.
— Nohar 13.1.16
At some point, I felt my body becoming longer and lighter. It was a moment of heightened attention like a dog that had just heard a noise and lifted his head quickly to see what it was about. I could straight my back. Sit up straight. I felt my head growing further away from the bottom of my spine. It felt good. I love the feeling of diving in, into the bubble. It’s like a different time zone in there, slowing down. Like lots of sperm cells racing to get to the egg, thoughts are streaming into the bubble, trying to burst in, all at once. As soon as I close my eyes it’s like a wake-up call for them. And I try to block them, slow them down. Not so fast I say.
— Nohar 14.1.16