'Werewire' performance

April 2nd, 2018

The performance of 'Werewire' by Ante Ursic was serene. It suspended time. It began a conversation
with stillness and eternity. What I gathered from his minimalist approach was an exploration of
homeostasis, struggle, dedication and determination.

What draws the performer onto the wire? What compels the musician to amplify and alter the sounds of
the wire. What brings an audience together to witness each other in this moment?

The fascination of this performance, for me, lies in the focus on one primary goal. The desire to stay on
the wire, to not fall off, to get back on as often as it takes until you can finally stay up there; forever? It
is so unrealistic and so representative of the human condition.

All are looking in the same direction. Are all thinking the same, at least at some point in time? Just
once?

Details become fascinating. Toes searching for the wire. Two feet. Four feet, six feet walking together
on a small line. Nothing else matters.

Structure
The performance was clearly divided into three parts and Ante spoke to the audience between each one
of the sections. We were in what Peter Lichtenfels calls 'street-time'. But as soon as a foot first touched
the wire, something else was born and I entered another mode of awareness. The sounds by Kevin
Dockery created their very own universe, they were informed by the movements, the friction of the
artists interacting with the wire, but it never gave me what some pre-programmed part of myself
secretly longed for, some sense of continuity, of assuredness. And I am glad that it never evolved into
an easily followed rhythm, that it never landed anywhere, on anything all too tangible. The performers
never fulfilled some similarly deep rooted desire for a choreographed, neatly assembled dance that was
predictable, constant, reliable. And still, in all its simplicity, it was complexly unsettling to be
somewhere between knowing and not knowing.

I was forever suspended. My hopes for moments of rest remained unanswered.

The piece gave me exactly what is, nothing more, nothing less. It insisted on realness. No illusion.
Nothing spectacular.

Knowing how long each section was going to be allowed me to more fully engage with the slow speed
of the piece and sink into deeper layers.

Zen. I suppose: controlled zen. Almost zen.

The performance was a beautiful poetic rendering of reality. Whatever reality is. 'Werewire' is one of
the performances that allowed me to come closer to the idea of a piece being whatever I imagine I want
it to be... and that being an acceptable state.