Train stations
I went to see 30×30, a 30-minute performance that was part of the Dance Umbrella festival, a month ago. This took place on the pavement directly outside Liverpool Street station. It was interesting, not so much for the dance itself but for watching the reaction of the passers by who were not sure if what they were seeing was a rehearsed performance or just some random mad person. I wondered how much of this owed to his choice of clothes - a normal tracksuit and trainers - as I think if he’d been wearing more typical street performer clothes, people would have been less confused.
Small Metal Objects, which I saw on Monday night, was an even more extreme example of this concept. Sitting in a bank of seats in the upper reaches of Stratford train/tube station with headsets, the audience stuck out like a sore thumb. But such is the tunnel vision of commuters that only a handful even saw us, and most of those that did looked away hastily.
The reaction to the actors (who were mingling with the public, distinguishable by us because their innocuous looking headsets were transmitting their speech to our headphones) was similarly unimpressed. As the play unravelled - with drug deals and tantrums and conversations about the meaning of life - people swilled around and past these moments, oblivious and uncaring of what was happening.
It was fascinating.
The most bizarre moment was, perhaps inevitably, the ending when - from the point of view of a passer by - four random people lined up and bowed and a group of weirdos burst into applause. An utterly bewildered man, who happened to be going down the escalator at the time, was so surprised he almost lost his footing and had an accident.
Bizarre stuff. And very interesting.
