The Clown, The Brute, and The Child

The Clown, The Brute, and The Child by Anna DeCaria

November 2nd, 2013

We drilled two holes around 5 feet high (about how tall the both of us are) on opposite walls of my bedroom. One eye bolt screwed in the space of the wall between my window and bookshelf, and another eye bolt to the right of the the head of my bed. Then some sturdy rope was fed through the eyes and pulled taut across the room, creating a line from wall to wall. On the floor, by the head of my bed, Anna placed a pair of hand-made shoes made of vinyl with brass hooks. They were cartoonish, not actually wearable, and the soles had hinges that allowed the portion for the toes to flex up or down. Tied to each shoe with the same rope that ran across the room was a red brick. In the middle of the bedroom under the line of rope were two shiny tin buckets, one filled with water and the other filled with a deep red dye. On my bed laid a curious creature, a hybrid of a small deer’s body with a rodent-like head, made and stuffed with different fibers, with the majority of it’s body made up of a shrunken light-brown wool sweater. It sat close to my own child-hood teddy.

 This was the set for Anna’s performance to take place in. 

Before the beginning of the performance, the audience of 20 somethings made their way into my bedroom. They huddled around the tin buckets on the floor, stood pressed against the walls and bookshelf, and a handful of people sat on my bed for a comfortable view. Anna took her place by the head of my bed, with the vinyl shoes and red bricks at her feet. I stood with my digital and disposable cameras next to Kate, who was instructed to hit the meditation bell in her hands during specific points in the performance. Everyone quieted down and Anna began with picking up the shoes and bricks.

The shoes and bricks looked very cumbersome in her hands as Anna lifted them above her head and moved them along the rope. What was only a few “steps” felt like an extended amount of time, and as she reached the end of my bed, the bell rang, and she placed the shoes and bricks on the ground. Her hands then moved towards the creature on my bed, and as fast as one hand pulled the head off the stuffed body, revealing a red stream of fabric that flowed out, Anna’s other hand began plucking little white flowers out of small slits in the wool sweater of the creature. Once all the flowers were apparent, Anna picked up the shoes and bricks again, and continued walking them in the air along the rope until the bell rang a second time as she reached the tin buckets. 

After Anna placed the shoes and bricks down on the floor a second time, she pulled out a square of folded white fabric from her pocket. Once the fabric was unfolded, a white linen dress appeared, crisp and clean. With her bare hands, Anna submerged the dress in the tin bucket that held the red dye, let it soak for a minute, then lifted it, rung it, and then submerged it into the second bucket of water. The red dye from the dress dispersed in the water, creating a weak cloud of the blood-like color. After lifting and bunching the dress from the water, Anna took two clothing pins and pinned it to the rope that ran across the room. Anna’s soft red hands then picked up the shoes and bricks and she began walking against the rope once more.

A few more “steps” and Anna reached my bedroom window. Taking a pair of silver scissors in hand, Anna cut the brick from each shoe, creating a loud trepidation as the bricks hit the wooden floor. The shoes were light now. Finally, Anna took out a small parcel from her other pocket, a little pouch connected by string to a little parachute, opened the window and the screen, and with her back against the audience, through the small object out of the dark window. The bell rang a final time.