To my children, and for those yet to come, I leave you this.
Collaborative Arts Project at Northern School of Contemporary Dance May 2016
Idea devised and produced by: Charlotte Arnold, Ella Ballard, Ripp Greatbatch, Inari Hulkkonen and Emilie Karlsen
A dystopian environment, where the planet has been destroyed by over consumption and waste. Five inhabitants within their confinement strive to recreate the nature they once knew from the memories inside their heads.
A durational installation created entirely from recycled materials. Created in collaboration with Space Maker Leeds, SCRAP, Meanwood Recycling Centre and poets Marianne Tuckman and Robert Smith.
There is not even – Marianne Tuckman
In a handful of dust cluster
powder pieces, pieces
of powder crowded and
crumbling
nothing’s shadow
(There is not even silence in the mountains)
Fear is in this fist,
eclipsed, knuckled, curved
round while ashy
finger’s stony grumble
locks lips, sticks tongue desperately
into all this
plastic
all this plastic,
weeps and settles
puddled, attempting savage stillness,
actually seeming silly
and sad and rustling
grain by grain
(Not in these mountains)
escaping the clenched hand
softening slowly, grudging a
besito from the
bottle caps, bags and fags
ends, foot
balls and tupperware boxes that
litter solid
and reliably
left,
a handful of flesh
falling to meet its
circumstanced lover.
only lonely
bone is left to cry about the past
In the Garden of My Dreams – Robert Smith
In the garden of my dreams
I eat of summer fruit
And the warm lake water steams
To quench the thirsty root
As the leaves crunch underfoot.
When the sun rises on high
It finds no song too late
To the shelter of the sky
The choruses elate
For no such words have weight
In the garden of my dreams
An endless show of bloom
The divinity of theme
Through nature’s every room
Where all things reign supreme
In the world that we will make
A wasteland changed to spring
Where the beautiful partake
And no known pains can sting
To the land where the dreamers wake.
In the garden of our dreams
We eat of endless fruit
Where the warm lake water steams
Our dreams have taken root.
How the leaves crunch underfoot…
