A circle of stones

Nanci Traynor in 'Gather the Lost'. Photo by Daniel Liou.

Gather the Lost – A Ritual Theatre Performance
KLPac Foyer
12 April 2009, 2.30pm
Featuring Nanci Traynor, William Curtis, Chai Chik Ying and Vimala Devi Tanggavelu.

On rainy Sunday afternoons, KLPac seems like a warm glowing hub of humanity in a gray wet world. In the cafe, tables of friends laugh and clink their glasses of wine. Upstairs an orchestra is practicing – the sound of their brass and drums filters down to the foyer. A waiter with a trolley of beer clatters past. People filter in for the matinee in Pentas 2, chattering and twirling their wet umbrellas.

In the midst of this cosy camaraderie, a man is lying spreadeagled on the polished concrete floor in the centre of the foyer. More accurately, he is lying in shavasana, the corpse pose of yoga, his chest rising and falling in even breaths. He is surrounded by a circle of polished pebbles like those in KLPac’s landscape design, in a repeating pattern of white and black. Between his feet lie a coconut shell, lit candle and incense, and a brass bell.

The man lies oblivious to the hubub around him. High heels click past his head. A few people stop to stare, and then move on. A coterie of photographers, their black costumes making them more conspicuous rather than less, nose around the pebble circle, their cameras clacking.

A woman in white slowly emerges onto the scene. Then another, and another. Each carries a token – an corsage of flowers, a journeyman’s bag – like a burden. Like pilgrims they approach the pebble circle. You are aware of their bare feet on the cold concrete floor.

William Curtis in 'Gather the Lost'. Photo by Visithra Manikam.

All at once the shaman in the centre rises. He rings his bell. The women scream and collapse. The photographers descend upon them like carrion crows. The women pick themselves up, and begin to progress clockwise round the circle. Each happens upon the token that another has dropped, as if it is the thing long sought but almost forgotten. One by one, the shaman negotiates their entry into the circle. The music picks up – they’ve timed it well. The women break into a dance, the crouching shaman aware of them. Friends now, arm in arm and smiling, the women exit the circle and the space.

The beat of the music continues, in quick contrast to the measured clapping of the shaman’s hands as he douses the candle. He collects his implements, carefully places pebble after pebble into his cloth bag, then exits with a jingling limp. The ritual is over.

This brief performance in the KLPac foyer was a taste of ritual theatre, in anticipation of a full-length performance in the KLPac Indicine in June. It is directed by dancer, performer and yogi Nanci Traynor, who has been running a series of ritual theatre classes at KLPac. Nanci — with the help of her husband William Curtis, the shaman of this show – is trying to introduce ritual theatre to Kuala Lumpur as a novel form of interactive cathartic community performance.

Photo by Konghwee.

As Nanci says, ritual theatre is not for everyone. Its outré gothic quality drove at least one audience member to shouts of laughter. Nevertheless, in today’s world, where individuals are increasingly alienated from any sense of community, it makes sense to try to reestablish a sense of shared ritual: the careful delineation of a sacred space, the gathering of participants for a rite of passage overseen by a figure of power, entering into a liminal zone where anything can happen, and then reemerging again into the everyday world transformed. This is what theatre achieves in all its guises, but the deliberately ceremonial aspect of ritual theatre makes this structure particularly evident and accessible.

And even for those who are not interested, sometimes it is refreshing just to encounter a circle of stones like something transported from a windy mountaintop far away, or a moment of meditation, when you come in with your wet umbrella expecting food and wine and laughter.