Lake, Big Studio
We are beginning to think of the overarching dramaturgical processes of Azathoth. Of the Old Ones growing in presence, permeating our reality, and undoing it.
Mate describes a process of both practice and spectatorship, of something that is perhaps there becoming something that is very much here. Raz speaks of an emergent vocabulary of symbols, unknowable but perceptible. As it forms, we become subjugated to it, enthralled by its mysterious systems, as if they come from beyond the void. Suski reads from her reflections: “an ecosystem, a forest of unfitting trees, that prompts a destruction from within, you know like a birch, a cactus, a palm tree, a willow tree meeting but then simultaneously as they are trying to live and grow in the interface, or in the inter-dance of the ecosystem there is a mutual and inevitable destruction and an act of unintended killing, hopelessness when facing this as a spectator but yet an understanding of its internal corruption”. Later, when Roi arrives, we speculate this process as an atomic bomb: its impact prolonged, its eruption unfathomable, its shroom-cloud serene, its radiation looming – perhaps then taking the form of an evil like in Twin Peaks or Adventure Time. And speak of the manifestation of the Old Ones unraveling spacetime, which is seemingly echoed by the “endless” ending of today’s run (9: Run).
Gry Tingskog witnesses the run. Through their feedback, it feels like many of the tools and discourses we developed throughout the week "paid off"; they have become interactable to the spectator. Gry also mentions a process of transitioning for perception to immersion, the piece gradually engulfing, devouring them, which feels very fitting for today's theme of dramaturgical processes which relate to the concepts of Azathoth.
How is the dramaturgy borne of the practice? How constant (relatively reliable) is this emergent dramaturgy? How can we play with it so expand its limits, and mold it so it supports the intended spectator experience?