Tuesday, 19 June 2012

La Blanche (third time lucky)

The solo that first saw the light one January evening in Bangalore in 2010 is in the process of being dusted down and life breathed back into her.  She’ll be closing Arts Care Gofal Celf’s D12 dance festival which is part of Pembrokeshire Fish Week.  I’ll be performing  La Blanche (the white girl) at about 17:40 this Sunday, June 24th at Port Authority, Milford Haven.   The stage is going to be built under a bridge (so safe from any drizzle on the day) and facing the sea.  Those who know her know she’s a solo about growing up on and in the sea in Gabon, so I’m excited about the setting, if a bit worried about some of the technical quandaries (the marriage of live spoken and recorded sound outdoors, dancing on the toe I broke just over a week ago…)

Through Arts Care Gofal Celf, I’ve also been working with a class from Milford Haven Junior School, creating a work in progress based loosely on the poem in La Blanche.  The children will be sharing what they’ve made at about 17:15.  So if you’re anywhere near Milford Haven, please come!  And if not, please send blessings.

Here is some of what I wrote the day before I performed La Blanche in Cardiff last July (2011):

I have a sense she has shifted where she lives in me since her first and last outing in Bangalore in January 2010.

Thoughts – in no particular order – on this revisiting of the SOLO:

Nicky (Visser)’s thoughts from her email responding to the film There’s a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in – that for a change, the film allowed her to enter in to the SOMATIC experience of the moving.  I started thinking:

SOMATIC → SOMA, elixir, ecstasy, somehow EROTIC – so the truly somatic is also deeply and subtly erotic.  At any rate, this seems true now in this piece: creativity / embodiment / eroticism emanating from a felt sense of the second (and first) chakras – the language, especially the poem “Vaguely Waving” must honour this – and suddenly this poem seems charged with eroticism – the goddess exploding from my mouth and senses… the rhythm, the sounds, the shapes of the words in my mouth, the images – I had never realised this.

So the task is to embody, be present, be fully alive to the sensations evoked by the story of the piece – the physical and not the mental story (let the structure take care of that) to be my focus…

Thoughts of Kirstie (Simson) “maybe I’m just a sex maniac”…

Thoughts of Nancy (Stark Smith) – bridging the gap in experience between practice and performance – something about the body chemicals of “performance” sending me out of my body and more into my head → control.  My seed for tomorrow is to be conscious when this happens and re-embody.

TRUST:   myself
                my body
                my experience
                my practice
                my training
                my creation
                my work

Image / message in meditation this week:  red flow, Shakti, (kundalini?) rising up between my legs, out the top of me and expanding spherically from me – strength / power comes from this core deep within me, not an external hardening (of my carapace), an external impulse of fear wanting me to shape, to contain, to control. Instead work to soften, dissolve this outer shell so the red → white explosion can expand from me, expand beyond measure.  Power but not mine, and yet mine.

This may be a bit too stream-of-consciousness processing for some, but in case people are curious, here’s the movement score as it currently stands for the varying sections of the piece, and the text of the poem, for readers of French:


strong  Atlantic waves:
disorientation → head lead → soft →spirals

vaguely waving (poem)

fishermen’s song:
pleine d’écume et de sel et de sable pointu (motif) → waving

sting rays & calm waters:
piercing the circles, stillness, balance

the women’s song:
body touch, fragments of set material, low ground, Shakti, sacral chakra, kalari serpent & elephant

We’ll see what changes by Sunday.  At the moment, it’s the last section, the women’s song, which is the least secure, not least because it involves some of the more challenging movement on my broken toe.

And finally, here’s the poem, for those who like French:


I wave, waver, waive
Wave at the ocean –
Green grey
Waves coming into shore.

Pictures of sine waves breaking on the beach
Vague trigonometric memories

Vague, wave
Vague, vague

La vague sur la plage qui s’écrase,
La vague qui écrase la plage
La vague qui m’écrase sur la plage

La vague qui m’écrase sur la plage
Forçant le sable dur
Forçant le gros sable dur
Dans ma bouche ouverte,
Dans ma bouche ouverte
Pleine d’écume et de sel et de sable pointu.

Vagues vertes
Terrain des raies-requin
Que les pêcheurs tirent
Que les pêcheurs noirs
Tirent des fonds verts
Des fonds lugubres
Des fonds si profond que j’ai peur.

Les pêcheurs noirs
Qui traversent les vagues vertes
Dans leurs pirogues marron
Qui traversent les vagues vertes
Qui traversent la troisième vague,
La vague d’où – si on la dépasse –
On ne revient pas.

La fille blanche regarde
Les pêcheurs noirs
Qui traversent les vagues vertes
Vagues vertes-grises
Dans leurs pirogues marron
Dans leurs pirogues en bois marron,
Les pêcheurs noirs
Qui trouvent les raies-requin
A travers les vagues,
Raies-requin couleur de sable
Couleur de sable dur et pointu
Dans ma bouche pleine d’écume et de sel.

La fille blanche regarde
Les pêcheurs sur les vagues
Qui vaguent.

I vaguely wave
At the fishermen.

From Lucy, with love xx

© Lucy May Constantini, June 2012


  1. Wonderful! We need to meet again and move together again! Perhaps, we will re-meet each other there! Sigh.. Bisous, till soon!

    1. Thank you Nayana. I hope we get to move together again soon too. Though I have a sneaking suspicion we might be passing each other this autumn. Let's see! Much love to you, Lx