Cover

Title Page

Dedication

For my mother

Playwright’s Note

Three years ago my mother was told she had less than three years to live. The news shattered me. My grief was all-consuming and yet I knew it wasn’t special. We all live with the inevitability of losing everyone and everything. But how do we do this? It suddenly struck me as the most impossible task. And that we should continue living in the face of this impossibility seemed to me both an exquisite and somewhat absurd act of defiance.

Shortly after receiving my mother’s news, I was on a six-hour plane ride home to visit her. While 35,000 feet in the air, I looked down at my hand and thought: this is my left hand. I whispered it to myself. This is my left hand. It felt edifying. As if, with those words, I was declaring: for now, this too still exists. I wrote Declarations in a single, fevered sitting on that plane ride, as if by picking through the fragments of myself – images, sounds, sensations – I would come to understand what constituted a life. Perhaps so as to better understand what it meant to lose one.

Declarations is driven by the desire to articulate the entirety of a life and the inherent impossibility of doing so. In a sense, all art occupies the space between human experience and our sublime failure to fully articulate human experience. I wanted to create a piece that spoke to that. To create an archive, fated to be woefully incomplete, of a life lived. In this case the life is mine, but through their embodiment of the text it also becomes that of the five performers.

Accompanying the text is a gestural score: the performers spontaneously generate gestures that embody and further illuminate each declaration. While the text is fixed, the performers’ improvised movement keeps this archive a living one, changing night after night. In this way, the text passes through the prism of each performer’s lived experience and refracts back a wholly unique and personal vision of a life.

A younger, more cynical version of myself would have been reluctant to say this, but fuck it: for me, live performance is a spiritual act. I do think of the theatre as a kind of temple. We go to the temple to grapple with the fundamental questions of the human condition. And for me, Declarations is a ritual for the temple. A means of processing the terror of death through the joyful evocation of life.

Jordan Tannahill

December 2017

Performance History

Declarations premiered at Canadian Stage’s Berkeley Street Theatre on January 23, 2018. The production was directed by Jordan Tannahill, with the following creative team:

1: Liz Peterson

2: Jennifer Dahl

3: Danielle Baskerville

4: Philip Nozuka

5: Rob Abubo

Lighting Designer: Kimberly Purtell

Technical Director: Greg Dougherty

Stage Manager: A. J. Laflamme

Assistant Stage Manager: Ashley Ireland

Original vocal composition by Philip Nozuka, with the ensemble

Producer: Lynanne Sparrow

Technical Director: Greg Dougherty

Production Manager: Heather Landon

Director of Production: Lee Milliken

Senior Head Technician: Sally Roberts

Head of Wardrobe: Ming Wong

Artistic Director: Matthew Jocelyn

Interim Managing Director and Executive Producer: Sherrie Johnson

The Gestural Score

While the gestural score in Declarations is spontaneously generated each night, we arrived at fifteen rules for what the gestures could and could not be. I would encourage directors to use these rules as a starting point for their own interpretation of the piece, but also to feel at liberty to dispense with some and discover others.

• Gestures should be a genuine attempt to communicate the essence of each declaration.

• Simple is best.

• No acting.

• Avoid dance-like movements.

• Avoid facial expressions.

• Reset to a neutral physicality when possible, facing outward toward audience.

• Sometimes you will speak the declaration first, and then perform the gesture. Other times, you will speak the declaration and perform the gesture at the same time. It will largely depend on how quickly the gesture occurs to you.

• For every five or so simple gestures (i.e., one motion of the arm or hand), you may have a slightly longer, multi-part gesture (perhaps one that moves you through the space).

• ‘Runs’ are encouraged. ‘Runs’ are sequences in which you flow seamlessly between one declaration/gesture and another, as if each one were building off the last.

• Very occasionally you can make a sound to accompany a declaration/gesture, but only if that sound spontaneously arises from the execution of the gesture.

• No imitations of butterflies or birds.

• No finger symbols (i.e., a gun, a peace sign, the middle finger, etc.)

• Avoid pointing at the thing you are referring to; embody it.

• A variety of movement and stillness is crucial.

• So is levity and play.

Declarations

A bare stage, stripped of masking.

1 enters.

She stands for a moment.

She then proceeds to make a series of declarations, each accompanied by a gesture. The gesture is meant to illustrate the image or idea contained within the declaration. The gestures are governed by the fifteen rules set out on pages 9–10.

The text is fixed, but the gestures are not: the performers must rediscover each gesture afresh, night after night. The difficulty – and humour – inherent in this nightly feat of improvisation should emerge but not distract.

1: This is the thing

This is not the thing

This is my mother

This is her eyelash

This is a flag

This is an empty promise

This is the speed of light

This is a chewed fingernail

This is a pocket with a hole in it

This is Saturn

This is political

This is the morning light

This is the morning light coming through the window

This is her body in the shower

This is the warm water falling

This is her dying breath

This is my heart in the morning

This is her laughter

This is her absence

This is the state of things to come

This is a dog

This is how I lie down

This is Ikea

This is a year

This is a child

This is a life

This is a street corner

This is a car speeding

This is the hard part

This is Tuesday

This is the colour red

This is the smell of freshly cut grass

This is the end of the world

This is me ignoring you at a party

This is time itself

This is my hand

This is me clapping

This is the distance between us

This is my father leaving when I was two

This is a swing set in the backyard

This is God

This is a plastic cup of apple juice

This is a shady street in the suburbs

This is a two-storey house with wall-to-wall carpet

This is life on Earth

This is the colour green

This is a witness

This is me wetting the bed until I was twelve

This is an erection

This is a secret

This is a weapon

This is me, coming apart at the seams

This is my first sexual encounter

This is a country

This is a map of the country

This is a scar

This is my mother on the beach

This is the length of a human tongue

This is a high school parking lot

This is the smokers’ corner

This is physics

This is a forest full of beer bottles

This is the place where I lose you

This is snow

This is our neighbourhood

This is a motel

This is your uncle in his white briefs

This is my mother alone with her thoughts

This is the weight of the world

This is the funeral

This is a rim job

This is the earth seen from space

This is a lifelong fear of heights

This is a shitstorm

This is an animal made of papier-mâché

This is how we collapse

This is the future

This is a dirty rag

This is a ghost town

This is a deck of cards

This is the ace of spades

This is me spending time in the world

This is thirty seconds of your time

This is the shape you were looking for

This is my mother looking at Van Gogh

This is an overpriced salad

This is just my opinion

This is a cartoon version of myself

This is a remote island

This is a personal vendetta

This is me missing you

This is dawn

This is a shortcut

This is a sparrow

This is a midair collision

This is the colour blue

This is a film starring Juliet Binoche

This is a regret

This is an abandoned storefront

This is an opening

This is a complimentary snack

This is a tiny ball of cellophane

This is a prop in a play

This is my life compressed into ten seconds

This is an unremarkable blow job

This is a swimming pool in the desert

This is a trick the light plays

This is a precocious teenager

This is a walnut

This is a late-night karaoke regret

This is an important detail

This is a forest fire

This is a condo gym

This is fascism

This is an art opening

This is my mother’s fear of elevators

This is laminate flooring

This is a stain on the wallpaper

This is a cupboard without a door

This is a basement apartment

This is how we made ends meet

This is the corner store

This is a can of evaporated milk

This is the ice storm

This is Satan

This is the letter ‘A’ in Times New Roman

This is a run in the stocking

This is Grade 4

This is recess

This is a recession

This is what’s left

This is a raccoon named Debbie

This is the tide going out

This is the edge of the wilderness

This is my mother crying

This is her ghost

This is a baby who looks like an old man

This is my wedding

This is an optical illusion

This is the Pacific Ocean

This is a conference on queer theory

This is a nipple

This is the fifteenth century

This is cloud coverage

This is a macaron

This is a virulent strain of smallpox

This is the smell of my mother lingering in a closet

This is the year that came after

This is a song by Joni Mitchell

This is slapstick

This is a fresh coat of paint

This is a paper cut

This is the mirror after a hot shower

This is a brunch date

This is a confession

This is some unwarranted recognition

This is a bungalow

This is the colour yellow

This is a bully

This is an ice rink

This is Abraham and Isaac

This is the last sentence in a long book

This is an old sofa on the sidewalk

This is the reason

This is a dinner with friends

This is the second miscarriage

This is Grade 9

This is bad taxidermy

This is the boy who went missing

This is a spent bullet casing

This is a last-minute request

This is food poisoning

This is a passport application

This is a line in the sand

This is a piece of gum stuck to your shoe

This is a small baggie of drugs smuggled in a rectum

This is an old laptop in the closet

This is the equator

This is a sperm whale

This is a clue

This is the Cuban Missile Crisis

This is my birthmark

This is a sacrifice

This is Billie Holiday

This is the number eight

This is a fraction of the love I have to give

This is a demolition derby

This is a carton of milk

This is a slice of pizza

This is a joyride

This is a weak WiFi signal

This is a blunt object

This is an overly air-conditioned room

This is feminism

This is just a suggestion

This is where the horses go

This is a shipping crate of elephant tusks

This is a moment of respite

This is a place

This is a fact

This is me trying

This is my leaving

This is a louse

This is a seed

This is a fish

This is a table

This is a farmer

This is a leaf

This is a root

This is blood

This is bone

This is a crease

This is an egg

This is an eye

This is a horn

This is skin

This is a claw

This is a knee

This is a foot

This is hair

This is a breast

This is a neck

This is a belly

This is a hand

This is a liver

This is my good ear

This is water

This is a wave

This is stone

This is sand

This is smoke

This is a path

This is night

This is a mountain

This is a hill

This is cold

This is round

This is clean

This is goodbye

This is today

This is an estuary

This is an ossuary

This is a floodplain

This is a cove

This is a cave

This is a mesa

This is a mess

This is the sky

This is a good man

This is prom night

This is a backseat

This is a highway in Northern Ontario

This is the smell of beer on your breath

This is a bow-tie undone

This is a moose on the road

This is an antler

This is a leg

This is a windshield

This is blood from your nose

This is the shoulder of a highway

This is the end

This is nostalgia

This is an assassin

This is the assassination of JFK

This is a blurry photograph

This is the moon landing

This is my middle finger

This is punk rock

This is my mother’s record collection

This is her dancing in the living room with the blinds drawn

This is the Big Bang

This is evolution

This is everything that came after

This is a coup d’état

This is blood on your hands

This is making love in the afternoon

This is my mother chopping onions

This is a dust mote

This is an eye infection

This is an eyebrow

This is a hidden tattoo

This is your runny nose after coming in from the winter cold

This is moisture

This is the void

This is an experiment in kinetics

This is a hot tub in Vegas

This is your clavicle

This is a missed opportunity

This is the time I’ve wasted

This is attrition

This is the national debt

This is a cliff battered by the ocean

This is an industrial park

This is a needle

This is thread

This is my family

This is a broken condom

This is June

This is the valley

This is a vagina

This is a whisk

This is a scent-free space

This is the boreal forest

This is a subatomic particle

This is a calculated risk

This is a hipster dad pushing his son on the swing

This is the colour purple

This is Sunday school

This is a root canal

This is a willow tree

This is an squid shooting ink

This is Huckleberry Finn

This is an avocado

This is my childhood

This is how I whisper in your ear

As 1 speaks, 2 enters. 2 joins in without interrupting the flow of movement and text.

1: This is my hand outstretched

2: This is the thing

1: This is us playing Sega Genesis

2: This is not the thing

1: This is the fall of America

2: This is you quitting your job

1: This is an exorcism

2: This is you working as a waitress

1: This is Wikipedia

2: This is how you met my father

1: This is the drive home

2: This is how it ended

1: This is a nightmare

2: This is the dust under my bed

1: This is a shit stain on my underwear

2: This is me crying uncontrollably in the train station

1: This is the first time we fucked without condoms

2: This is my life without me

2 stops gesturing. 1 continues to silently gesture for each of 2’s declarations.

2: This is me avoiding your question

This is me being unreasonable

This is calamity

This is Hollywood

This is a gas station in the Mojave desert

1 and 2 gesture on their own lines.

1: This is my sweat

2: This is us fucking in the back seat

1: This is us caught in the rain

2: This is us being quiet together

1: This is the humidity

2: This is your breath

1: This is my breath

1 and 2 gesture on all lines.

1: This is an airplane shot down from the sky

This is the fart you wouldn’t own up to

This is a murmuration of starlings

2: This is a false idol

This is your gratitude

1: This is a non-fat latte

This is a finished basement

This is the stingray that killed Steve Irwin

2: This is the nightlife

1: This is a blood feud

2: This is an ergonomic office chair

1: This is a novel interrupted by the death of its author

1 and 2 gesture on all lines.

2: This is spring

This is my soul

This is the sound of distant construction

This is a boy singing to himself under his breath

This is daylight

This is my friend Shane in a coma

2 stops gesturing. 1 continues to gesture in silence.

2: This is the second time you’ve interrupted me

This is a discontinued cereal

This is an undiscovered colour

This is an indescribable shape

This is how I got over you

This is the first man who loved my mother

This is a train whistle at night

This is an Agnes Martin painting

This is a convincing forgery (2 mimics 1’s gesture of an Agnes Martin painting.)

2: This is a trace amount of plutonium

This is a moment of indecision

This is a field gone fallow

This is the email you never replied to

This is my receding hairline

This is a desecrated holy site

1 and 2 gesture on all lines.

1: This is us listening to the neighbours making love

2: This is them listening to us

1: This is a doubt that plagues me

2: This is a strip bar in Montreal

1: This is a sticky note reminding me to breathe

2: This is the troposphere

1: This is my first day on the job

2: This is my friend Thomas, whom I betrayed

1: This is my friend Mike, whom I loved unrequitedly

2: This is a meal of leftovers

1: This is a reality TV show about wedding dresses

2: This is March

1: This is the birthday party I didn’t invite you to

2: This is West Queen West

1: This is our youth

2: This is a pervert

1: This is a baseball field at night

2: This is an algebra problem

1: This is a cashmere turtleneck

1 and 2 continue to gesture on all lines.

1: This is astronomy

This is a lone deer in a field

This is its white tail

This is a long shot

This is my friend Mark, who lost his mind

This is you withholding love

This is a YouTube video of a panda sneezing

This is a portal

This is the turning point

This is gluten-free

This is a fetish

This is an after-hours tiki bar

1 and 2 gesture on each other’s lines.

2: This is you putting your hand on the small of my back

1: This is a small town with a big church

2: This is a limp dick

1: This is a race car

2: This is a palindrome

1: This is white male privilege

2: This is a syringe

1: This is a rigged ballot

2: This is a wet plastic bag

1 and 2 gesture on their own lines.

1: This is a vicious cycle

2: This is the Command button on your keyboard

1: This is the white chalk in the blackboard eraser

3 and 4 enter and join the performance without interrupting the flow of movement and text.

Hereafter, performers may ‘steal’ other performer’s declarations – speaking a declaration at the same time as the other performer while offering-up their own spontaneous gesture. The effect creates an overlapping of text but an asynchronicity of gesture. The emergence of these ‘steals’ should happen gradually but with increasing frequency.

3: This is your kindness

4: This is a man vomiting out of a cab

1: This is the hum of a refrigerator

2: This is lightning seen from space

3: This is a convent of nuns

4: This is a backyard trampoline covered in leaves

1: This is a taco

2: This is a diving bell

3: This is a slow fade to black

4: This is something I whipped together

1: This is April

2: This is a stand of birch trees

3: This is a fragment of Attic pottery

4: This is colonization

1: This is a problematic passage in a history textbook

2: This is a satyr

3: This is the vanishing point

4: This is a charismatic cult leader

1: This is a rat

2: This is the year 1992.

3: This is a cold draft

4: This is a premonition

1: This is the fuzz of a peach

2: This is a portrait of a woman

3: This is my elbow

1: This is Sylvia Plath’s oven

4: This is an extinct species

2: This is the Berlin Wall

3: This is a customer service representative

4: This is my best side

1: This is a minor inconvenience

2: This is a derailed train

3: This is a landfill

4: This is naked ambition

1: This is a public service announcement

2: This is summer

3: This is Niagara Falls

4: This is a pinch of salt

1: This is biking drunk

2: This is a sprig of mint

3: This is my mother’s cough

4: This is my childhood bedroom

1: This is my mother’s cough

2: This is her comb

3: This is the hair in it

1: This is the letter J

2: This is the summer rain

3: This is yesterday

4: This is my mother’s cough

1: This is a missing button

2: This is the red glow of an exit sign

3: This is a doodle in the margins

4: This is the stubble on your chin

1: This is where we get off the subway

2: This is a tear in the fabric of reality

3: This is a teardrop

4: This is a destination wedding

1: This is a morgue

2: This is the sound of you in the next room

3: This is the next room

4: This is the view

1: This is the backyard

2: This is our neighbour

3: This is the nearby river

4: This is the town on the other side

1: This is the quiet of the house

2: This is for your own good

3: This is gym class

4: This is the migration of the monarch butterfly

1: This is a plastic surgery clinic in Guadalajara

2: This is an skyscraper designed by Mies van der Rohe

3: This is my father

4: This is a blank piece of paper

1: This is snow blowing upwards

2: This is my father

3: This is an eraser

4: This is my father

1: This is the smell of the earth after rain

2: This is a Styrofoam cup

3: This is me in your womb

4: This is August

1: This is the afterlife

2: This is a snake

3: This is a snake swallowing a mouse

4: This is a Polaroid

1: This is us lying in bed

2: This is a bank robbery

3: This is our unborn daughter

4: This is a bruised banana

1: This is the Prairie sky

2: This is what I will look like when I’m dead

3: This is a dirt road

4: This is a meth lab

1: This is a stunt

2: This is a tectonic plate

3: This is the world slowly tearing apart

4: This is you standing on the earth

1: This is John Glenn orbiting in a spaceship

2: This is the moon

3: This is a lunar eclipse

4: This is a quasar

1: This is an acne scar

2: This is a vegan potluck

3: This is absolutely nothing

4: This is a man taking out the trash

1: This is the Promised Land

2: This is a cab ride through Brooklyn

3: This is static on the radio

4: This is a snuff film

1: This is a pair of scissors

3: This is my Aunt Roberta

4: This is pink nail polish

1: This is a child psychologist

2: This is my mother holding me as a baby

3: This is the Dollarama

4: This is a satellite crossing the night sky

1: This is an upturned kayak

2: This is the Birth of Venus

3: This is my twelfth birthday

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