the birds that got away from the cage
It’s not often that I re-considered going back to work (not the going back to work part, but the re-considering part); but I felt guilty coming back to my office after watching A Cage Goes In Search Of A Bird. I had to have a glass of Cognac, followed by a large glass of bubbly with Disco George Michael blasting in the background of my gallery before I started work again.
The play was executed with simple intelligence. Almost everything was in black and white; making everything full of symbolism. I do remember the red color of the fish and the funeral tablet - linking the death of both. Visually, it was stunning stark, the acting standing out almost as if the drawings on a blank canvas.
The almost mechanical sounds, with the almost mechanical acting, with the almost mechanical lighting, made the point of telling the audience that stripped off all the “romantics” of life, this was truly where we live in, and how we lived.The almost-ness suggests the organic forms and movements that were happening on stage, had a chance of life.
As if breaking out of the monotony of the play, it slowly evolved from that rhythm. Into song and dance - seems to be poking fun at the ‘form’ that is fast becoming the norm in the theater world; if there could indeed, be a norm in the creative art world. I totally enjoyed the dancing, especially by Tim. His long limps waving frantically in the air, almost swimming in air, like the bird that got away from the cage.
The symbolism of life giving water, was most obvious when the actor had to deliver a lifeless folder in the rain. He was soaked and obviously “came to life” after the shower.
The deaths were all full of drama, as if to mock at the materialization of the loss. The flush of the toilet, the fall into the grave, the breaking of the bar that held the hanging rope - all symbolic descent to hell. And the customization of modern funeral offerings hint of modern life, all becomes ash.
I wondered if I was becoming one of those birds that one finds in a pet shop; most won’t survive out of the cage in the wild. I wondered if death had indeed been over-played by most. I wondered if life itself was over-played by the “offerings” that life would suppose to provide.
I choose to be the bird that ran from the cage, and survived in the ‘wilderness’.
I choose to be leading an artist’s life, and I am so glad that I have my artists friends who would remind me again, and again, through their works, that life is so much more full of experiences and explorations, if only one chooses to break away from the cage that holds them back.
I am so happy that being an artist has led me to so much more of what life has to offer.
This night had proven to be one hell of a disco! : )