A score for a diffractive dialogue on joy and sadness
This is a score for two people. A dialogue. A vocal and vagal experiment which hopes to lead you both forward and backwards, inwards and outwards, at the same time.
1. Sit down on the floor with your back to your partner.
Your backs should be touching.
If you cannot touch your partner then your back should be against a sturdy flat surface, like a wall.
2. Take a deep breath in together
3. Hum in a low tone as you both slowly exhale.
Breathe in whenever you need to, but also breathe in when your partner breathes in
As you exhale your bodies should fall into each other, so that the other is bearing your weight more and more.
4. Your bodies will begin to slide downwards. Lower and lower and until you are both lying down. Your heads are side by side, in the crook of the other’s shoulder, looking at the ceiling. (Or if you are not in the same physical space as your partner, maybe you are on the ground by yourself, but think and feel your partners presence.)
5. Say or sing a lyric from a song. Just the first one that comes to mind.
It doesn’t matter who goes first.
If your lyric was in the form of a question, your partner can leave it as it is.
If your lyric was not in the form of a question, your partner should re-formulate it as a question.
Examples: ‘How deep is your love?’ - Leave as is. ‘Jump out of bed and stumble in the kitchen’ - Why do you jump out of bed in the morning? ‘At first I was afraid I was petrified’ - What are you not afraid of anymore?
6. After one person says or sings a lyric, the other person asks your lyric question.
The same question is asked 7 times.
After each time you will answer the question until you run out of things to say. The partner says ‘Thank You’ and asks again.
7. Once this is done the other partner says or sings whatever lyric comes to them first, and the first person makes it into a question. Then repeat step 6.
8. You may alternate and repeat steps 5 and 6 for as long as you want. You may also alternate asking your own lyric question to your partner instead of vice-versa, or you can take tuns and ask each other the same questions
9. End the score by first sitting up and then standing and then shaking your whole body as you express anything you want from your mouth. (Humming, howling, AHHHHHH-ing)
SONGS ARE LIKE A TIME MACHINE
- Anushka Nair
I've asked friends and acquaintances who are friends to perform this score. I have yet to ask a stranger. Maybe some strangers will see this blog and perform it. Maybe they will tell me they did. Maybe they will tell one of their friends to try and it will come back to me in someway.
The initial performers of this score were Luiza and Anushka. Afterwards we spoke and this idea of the time machine came up. This diffracted from other ideas I have had about songs as vessels, portholes, or emotive non-tangible objects. Music and the voice are both elusive of and attached to time/space. "the audible is constantly in motion, disappearing as it appears." (Benjamin, 2018)I was thinking of them before as transporters of emotion, but they are also transporters of memory, similar to the way smells are. Interestingly, both smell and hearing belong to the intangible realm of the senses. After further performances which I observed through video or in person, I spoke more with each of the partners after the experience. Finally, I chose to perform the score myself, with a close collaborator and friend. It was here that this idea of the time machine became clear.
The lyric that came to me in that moment was:
Strangers
Waiting
Up and down the boulevard
When asked by my partner "What are strangers waiting for on the boulevard?" I was instantly transported to a place near where i grew up.... It was the parking lot and park at the end of a of street called Magnolia Boulevard. I have no memories of the song from my childhood, but somehow every experience I had had in this location compressed into one and then expanded and infinite storylines of what could happen in this space appeared. And it was all heavily encapsulated in the sweet warm air of a summer night. These moments were both fleeting and concrete experiences and despite the grounding comfort of my friend's warm shoulder I floated amongst them.
Here is an audio clip from this part of the score. set to a video of the original song makers. I'll call it: Journey to Diffraction
Sadly, as with the other documentation, I don't think the score works in recorded form or really outside the two participants. Therefore it feels truly like an intra-action. Happening within the space created by the participants, deflecting observation.
A Diffractive Dialogue between a
Past and Present Self
One of the central items of my research box, as well as my main source for the autoethnographic research I am doing, is a journal which I kept between the ages of 13-16. The journal is first-hand documentation of the commencement of my sexual life, from my first kiss to the 'loss of my virginity' or as I would call it now, my first experience of penis-in-vagina sex. (Virginity is a social construct and thus not something one can loose. I consider it actually a gaining of experience. This view, I can confirm based on my re-reading of this journal and an interview with my sister, was precisely how I felt about it then too. ) In addition to the standard teenage turmoil and vast number of boys names, the journal is filled with song lyrics, which I found meaningful at the time.
Thinking once more about using songs as a time machine, I thought it might be interesting to performa a version of the above score, but the two people would be my present self, and my teenage self who wrote this journal, carefully listening to her favourite songs in order to write their lyrics in her journal.
I recorded the video and edited it a bit to add to the feeling of there being a dialogue taking place. The experience was very fulfilling, however it felt less like a trip to the past, and more like a springboard into the future, powered by the culmination of experience.
The lyrics I chose from my journal were:
'Prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will grow old'
'It makes me feel so good to always tell you when you're wrong'
'You and I should get away for a while, I just wanna be alone with your smile'
While writing a reflection on the workshop I participated in with the director of Via Berlin, I came to the conclusion that it was impossible for me to be vulnerable with just myself, as my vulnerabilities exist in the context of others. However, watching this video back, I do get a sense of vulnerability and surprise at myself and my answers. I am not sure how it will read to the viewer, but I am excited to reflect more on how I might enter a dialogue with different parts of myself in my future practice.
Benjamin, L. ‘Rewriting the Gaze: Hearing Sex in Cinema’ (2018) MAI: Feminism & Visual Culture, 12 September. Available at: https://maifeminism.com/rewriting-the-gaze-hearing-sex-in-cinema/ (Accessed: 25 March 2021).














