Wasted - Installation Art Performance

INTRODUCTION

(THE AUDIENCE IS IN TOTAL DARKNESS AND THERE IS A SLIGHT SEEPAGE FROM OUTSIDE THAT FILTERS IN AND SLIGHTLY ILLUMINATES THE SET {***OR A DULL GREEN ‘PILOT LIGHT’ ON THE TOP OF THE MAST***}. AMOS ENTERS PUSHING A BICYCLE WITH A PRAM/TROLLEY AS A TRAILER.)

AMOS                         : (MUMBLING TO HIMSELF AS HE SHUFFLES IN WITHOUT ACKNOWLEDGING THE AUDIENCE. HE IS DRESSED IN COPIOUS LAYERS OF CLOTHING. HE TAKES HIS TIME UNTYING THE TRAILER) Consciousness, context, content, contempt … conscience! What a waste? Just words without form, but with a definite function! Consciousness, context, content, contempt, conscience… All conveying nothing of substance to the unconscious! Such fools; such idiots! But I must talk last because I am the biggest fool of all; I am the original idiot! Sweet words and passion and noble ideals – enough to enlist my bleeding heart in this hair-brained scheme! (HE POSITIONS THE TRAILER SPECIFICALLY) Such irony; raising consciousness about waste and at the end of the day, all of the effort will more than likely be wasted! Why would anyone care? Its just waste after all: rubbish, dirt, refuse! I should have refused. (HE CHUCKLES TO HIMSELF) Fucking fartists! Trying to make a statement: turning all this kak into art! If this is art then art is kak! (HE HANGS THE BIKE IN POSITION AND A LIGHT GOES ON AND A FAN BEGINS TO OSCILLATE. AS HE TURNS, TO THE AUDIENCE) Good evening and welcome to this wasted journey…

FIRST MOVEMENT

(HE PLACES A REVOLVING MULTI-COLOURED SHADE WITH PATTERNS IN FRONT OF THE LIGHT AS HE SPEAKS THROUGH A LOUD HAILER WHICH IS ON THE VERY FRONT OF THE WASTE-SHIP) I’ve been told that we all have a purpose in this life: (MOVES AWAY FROM THE LOUD HAILER) I even used to believe them once. Long ago when I still had dreams… (HE MOVES TO THE HANGER-RAIL AND BEGINS TO PEEL OFF LAYERS OF CLOTHING SLOWLY AS HE ADDRESSES THE AUDIENCE ABSENT-MINDEDLY) Back when I still harboured – no, suffered – the illusion of individual worth: the delusion of individual value, determined by a denigrating paymaster. (HE GOES BACK TO THE LOUD HAILER) Count your blessings: count them none by none! (HE RESUMES UNDRESSING) So many worthless lives, so much wasted life without living. Well at any rate, I’ve certainly wasted my too much of my life by not living enough. Wasting away unconsciously, year by monotonous year: surviving to consume and consuming much more than I needed to survive. Consumed and wasted. Detritus and callous excess: the vulgar, unthinking, gluttonous aspirations! The posing and posturing and polishing of a fabricated image reminiscent of a naked fairytale king because no matter how you choose to look at it, the fabric of this reality is far from fine. (HE SCRATCHES HIS ARM PIT AND STARES QUIZZICALLY OUT AT THE AUDIENCE) A fabricated reality: impotent messages from the grave that serve as nothing more than aborted reminders of a time when maybe you cared about more than just your own little merry-go-round of self delusion and obstinate denial – and you know what they say about people who live in denial? They are die naaiers. Comatose convenience, maintained by suppressing the desire to act with conviction because we have to fit in; we have to fit into the scheme of things – constantly consumed! Consumed by our own air-brushed image of ourselves – gracing the glossy cover of our personal copy of life’s magazine – consuming the deception of everything that we should want to be; everything we have been conditioned to desire. The inane aspirations, mindlessly striving to acquire and accumulate and ultimately … (GLARES AT THE AUDIENCE) We discard even the pretence of our humanity. (HE IS FINALLY DONE UNDRESSING AND THERE IS A HEAP OF CLOTHES ON THE FLOOR. HE IS WEARING A ‘SOLID WASTE’ NEON VEST AND A DIAPER. HE GOES TO THE LOUD HAILER) You man! You woman! Human! All of you that comprises this diseased and decaying humanity! Where are you? (HE BEGINS TO PICK UP THE CLOTHING AND PLACES IT ON A HANGAR) So much possibility wasted. Such a waste! Wasting away through greed and entitlement and privilege and the, oh so wilful ignorance. This human beast that produces unfathomable masses of waste every day, polluting the planet – obstinately continuing to milk the slaughtered cow of avarice even as it lingers at death’s door! All because (GOES TO THE LOUD HAILER) The lord is your shepherd and you shall want! More and more and more! Until you are senseless again and there is no more to be had even though you will continue to crave – gluttonously, ravenously, ravaging the earth and desecrating our only heritage. Defiling the life without living until slowly existence expires exhausted. (HE STRIKES A GONG AND THE LIGHT EXPIRES) Inevitably we will all expire… Wasting life by not living!

SECOND MOVEMENT

(HE STANDS BEHIND THE WASTE-SHIP, OBSCURED AND LOOKING THROUGH THE CAMERA AT THE AUDIENCE.)

AMOS                         : Long, long ago I journeyed back through the stars; I travelled back inside my head once long ago. Just once I saw that place – just once I found a space free of waste and excess. Once long ago I journeyed back into a time before we became what we are… And I did love us then. (HE BEGINS TO MOVE SLOWLY FROM BEHIND THE WASTE-SHIP STILL FILMING THE AUDIENCE. HE SITS DOWN BY THE PRAM) Now I’ve been given the dubious honour of being the captain of the waste-ship of enterprise. I’ve been afforded the opportunity of undertaking the most important journey of our lives – back just once again to that place where we once loved us. A time and a place before we became this festering affliction that is now our humanity – this disease called us. A time when we revered the omnipotent matriarch; a time before we began to believe that it was okay to rape our mother. Nature embraced us then as we embraced her: she loved us so much that that she shared some of her most cherished secrets with us. Not realizing that the beauty in our hearts was a mere reflection without substance. (HE STOPS FILMING) And then with the knowledge of her sacred secrets we set about destroying the very thing that we once claimed to worship: instead of creating more beauty, we set about constructing ugly towers of vanity and fear as a testament to the destruction that fuelled our treacherous thoughts! (BEATS THE GONG) We created only destruction and began to build a monument of waste! (BEATS THE GONG) An ugly, reeking, disease ridden sculptural testament… (BEATS GONG) To… (DOES A DRUM ROLL ON THE GONG AND GOES TO THE LOUD-HAILER) Progress! (CHEERS) That’s what they say anyway. (HE PICKS UP THE CAMERA AND BEGINS TO FILM THE AUDIENCE) Wasting space, wasted time: a monstrous edifice of ignorance and greed – because the volume of your waste is directly proportionate to how much you have achieved – directly proportionate to your success. (HE STOPS FILMING AND SMILES) And now finally – for me and others like me at least – the tables are turned because our success is based on the fact that we have not achieved much! (BEATS GONG AND CHEERS THROUGH LOUD-HAILER. THE LIGHTING CHANGES)

THIRD MOVEMENT

                                    (HE IS SEATED NEXT TO THE PRAM AND TAKES OUT A MODEL OF A HOUSE AND CONTINUES TO TAKE OBJECTS FROM THE PRAM THROUGHOUT THE SPEECH)

AMOS                         : Everyday including Sunday, we each generate an average of two kilograms of solid waste. Obviously, there are some who create next to nothing because they have next to nothing, but then there are those who create much more because, quite frankly, they have much more. The richest twenty percent of the world’s population consumes eighty-sic percent of global resources while the poorest twenty percent consumes a meagre one point three percent of resources. So don’t be fooled by the averages which collectively still amounts to sixty thousand tons of solid waste that reaches our landfills everyday! Sixty thousand tons and change everyday until 2012 when our current landfills will reach critical capacity. And then what? Just move all the shit to some other site and begin all over again until 2025 when that site will reach critical capacity? And please don’t sit there thinking that you are not a part of the problem because you are recycling and you are brand conscious – always looking for organic this and organic that! At twice the price! And still, even if we reach one-hundred percent post consumer recycling in this country, we will only have managed a pitiful two percent of the total waste generated. And even then, we would not have addressed the inefficiency or toxicity of products and processes. Keep in mind that for every bin of refuse that you generate, industry generated seventy bins: so that you could get your products packaged so conveniently. Two point eight million tons of waste every year! Imagine, thirty-five soccer fields full of rubbish – knee deep! Thirty five soccer fields full: I can’t help but wonder, where will the children play?

THE MOVEMENT ENDS AS HE TAKES OFF HIS OWN DIAPER) Life supporting resources are increasingly decreasing! While the demand for the decreasing resources, is increasing! Where will it end? We are faced with natural and unnatural ecological degradation; resource over-consumption and ultimate depletion and the flagrant abuse of land and water; overpopulation, industrialization and monopolization! When will this abomination end? (THE LIGHTS FADE OUT)

FOURTH MOVEMENT

                                    (HE IS LYING ON THE BENCH WITH SHADES ON AND A BRIGHT LIGHT SHINING ON HIM) I choose to live… with the burden of truth burning hot in my soul – a vague notion blazing bright just beyond the horizon. Whether it is indeed the dawning of a new day or the waning of the last one is as yet unclear; but we do live in hope though – I do. I have to live in hope… (SCRATCH – TAP) Sometimes it seems as if all we have left is hope… (SCRATCH – TAP) I wonder if it is maybe too late even for such indulgences? Has the time for hope passed? (SCRATCH – TAP) Is this hope just a placebo for a mankind that is running scared? Lost and floundering without any real direction… (SCRATCH – TAP) Just blind faith perhaps: or just another waste? Just another wasted desire desperate to find form – to gain substance… (SCRATCH – TAP) I have to believe. I must hope. (SCRATCH – TAP) I do hope… I hope. (SCRATCH – TAP. BLACK OUT) Not again in vain; never again in vain. We have suffered enough; we have inflicted enough; we have destroyed enough; we have construed enough; and fought and maimed and schemed enough. We’ve coveted and plotted and planned enough. You’ve killed enough of me and I’ve raped enough of you. We’ve been blind and callous and heartless and uncaring – enough! We’ve wasted enough – we’ve wasted so much more than enough… (SCRATCH – TAP X 4. LIGHTS UP) Such a pity that enough words will not change the reality; enough words will not reverse the probability; enough words have still not exposed the hypocrisy; enough words cannot span the chasm between you and me! (HE STANDS AND CASUALLY TAKES A GOWN AND PUTS IT ON BUT DOES NOT TIE IT AS HE FACES THE AUDIENCE DEFIANTLY) Enough exposure will not change who you choose to be. (HE TIES THE GOWN AND SMILES KNOWINGLY. HE TURNS HIS BACK TO THE AUDIENCE. SCRATCH – TAP. HE SMILES AT THE AUDIENCE OVER HIS SHOULDER WITH A BUNCH OF PLASTIC FLOWERS IN HIS HAND AND WHILE HE SPEAKS HE DROPS THE FLOWERS ONE BY ONE) Now I’ve become a part of you. I have sacrificed my living to exist inside your head. Maybe if I’m there I’ll be able to affect the way you think – maybe I can infect your thinking. Maybe I’ll be able to alter your being; maybe you’ll start accepting that you can make a difference; maybe you’ll start seeing and hearing and tasting and smelling and touching and feeling as if you are a part of this beautiful creation. (SCRATCH – TAP. HE TURNS TO FACE THE AUDIENCE AND DROPS THE LAST OF THE FLOWERS. – SARCASTICALLY) And maybe this waste-ship will take off; maybe humanity will survive indefinitely; maybe the planet will once again thrive… Without us? (SCRATCH – TAP X 5. HE MOVES TO THE LOUD-HAILER) And hope is revealed! Reduced to a fucking maybe! (SCRATCH – TAP) Crazy… Maybe… (LIGHTS OUT)

FIFTH MOVEMENT

(HE SITS DOWN ON THE TOILET AND PREPARES TO PAINT A PICTURE) Sensory suicide; stunted expression; stifled perception; miscommunication; misunderstood again. Language is inadequate! (HE DIPS THE BRUSH AND MAKES A FIRST STROKE) Can you hear the silent scream of frustrated suffering that suffuses the seemingly still dusk? (HE IS SILENT AS HE PAINTS) An expectant pause that awaits substantial expression… (HE STOPS PAINTING AND FACES THE AUDIENCE) Or did you come to be entertained? (HE RESUMES PAINTING) If the void that exists between my command of the language and your understanding can only be bridged by communicating through my artistic creation, then why do you deprive your soul by experiencing my expression from within the haze of your preconception? (HE STOPS PAINTING) Your pre-deception! (HE RESUMES PAINTING) They say that art sustains the soul of humanity. … In my experience that may or may not be true. In my experience… (HE STOPS AND HITS THE SINGLE STRING WITH THE BRUSH – TWANG!) My life’s experience is the memory of my living! (TWANG) The assimilation; the assumption that what we do and what we have done defines what we will do! (TWANG. HE PUTS A FINAL STROKE TO THE PAINTING AND THEN MOVES & TURNS THE FRAME TO FACE THE AUDIENCE) My art defines my humanity… (HE BEGINS TO PAINT HIS FACE) My art is my sole true expression. (TWANG, SCRATCH – TAP. HE SMILES LECHEROUSLY) With no offence intended, I do not art for you! (HE PAINTS HIDEOUS, RED LIPS AROUND HIS MOUTH) I live this life as a testament to what I know as truth. (HE STANDS) And if in the process I manage to insinuate a statement that makes you wake-up or grow-up or throw-up, it is but a consequence. (HE LOOKS DOWN AT THE BRUSH AND PLUCKS THE STRING VIOLENTLY BEFORE TYING THE GOWN AND COMPOSING HIMSELF BEFORE SITTING AND PAINTING A MOUTH ON HIS FOREHEAD) My art, my life… My expression, my living… My love, my sustenance… My passion, my weakness. (TWANG! SCRATCH – TAP, TWANG!) My art… I art… Thine art… (TWANG – BLACK OUT. PROJECTION ONTO SET AS HE ADDRESSES AUDIENCE) Tomorrow is already too late, all we have is this last day, this single moment in which to make a decision. Life or death; politics or truth; money or creation and if then there remains any doubt, then surely we are all damned for who of us are truly individual and separate from the whole? (HE SITS DOWN ON THE TOILET) What is humanity if not you? And beyond the confines of today beckoning like the return of passion within our souls we will find the essence of beauty. Once again reunited with our art! The novel embraced by a smile; a gesture profoundest poetry; the dawn and all of its light the canvas. How I long for a time when our lives become infused with true knowledge and wisdom when our every movement and expression becomes a humble, unassuming work of art. (HE TAKES THE PAINTING AND WIPES HIS ARSE BEFORE STANDING AND DUMPING THE PAPER IN A DRUM. HE THEN WASHES HIS FACE FROM THE WATER IN THE TOILET BOWL) Art to feed the soul: not for profit or patronage or exclusivity and not in a marketable formula designed for mass production. (HE SIGHS DRAMATICALLY AND WIPES HIS BROW BEFORE STARTING THE AUTOMATIC PAINTING MACHINE) I art… Just like that!

SIXTH MOVEMENT

AMOS                         : (LOOKING AT THE PAGES LYING ON THE GROUND WITH A REGRETFUL SADNESS) My kinders… (HE SITS DEJECTEDLY IN SILENCE WITH HIS HEAD BOWED AND BEGINS TO SPEAK) Hulle sit op die pavement, wegegooi op ‘n hoop soos ‘n klompie kak wat almal miskyk. Hulle sien net julle voete waarvan hulle koppe is gesak, blink skoentjies (GESTURES WITH HIS HAND IN FRONT OF HIS FACE) Hier verby langs hulle gevreete. Die varke is nogal nie vol nie, hulle gedagtes is vrot – want hoekom van daar onder kyk die kinders tot binne-in julle kop. Julle check nogal hulle is die las, maar kantie, julle varke is almal djas! (HE SELECTS CLOTHING FROM THE HANGAR AND ARRANGES IT CAREFULLY) Such ignorantly arrogant antagonists… So very arrogantly ignorant! Grimacing idiotically while we squeeze the last drop from the beast with one hand and fell forests and pollute the air and the water with the other! (HE BEGINS TO GET DRESSED IN A CLEAN BUSINESS SUIT) Where will we find beauty again you may well ask from within the gloomy abyss of circumstance but hear me when I say that all of the answers and solutions begin with you. You man, you woman; you my brothers and sisters: human! Owner of today – creator of tomorrow and your own destiny! Contributor, conspirator or conniver: or maybe an undecided, potential collaborator? Where do you stand? When do you think we will fall? (HE FINISHES GETTING DRESSED WHILE HUMMING AND WHISTLING TO HIMSELF)

SEVENTH MOVEMENT

AMOS                         : Do not despair though because despite the odds, hope does remain – it does exist. The time has come to stop being reactive and to start being creative. We need to adopt a new way of thinking so that we can create a paradigm shift; we need to develop new policies and technologies; we need to establish a new way to manage our resources and we need to collaborate towards making the change work. but most importantly, we have to minimize the amount of solid waste we generate by reducing the amount of material used and therefore the amount of resultant waste. We have to take responsibility to develop functioning closed loop systems for technical nutrients produced and used. Zero waste means designing and managing products and processes to systematically reduce the volume and toxicity of waste and materials, to conserve and recover all resources and not to burn then. Zero waste is a goal that is both pragmatic and visionary and it guides people to emulate sustainable natural cycles where all discarded materials are resources for others to use. It is a way of thinking that will profoundly change our approach to resources and production thus leading to a revolutionizing of corporate culture. There are countless examples of how we can all make a difference, but we have to want to alter this blissfully ignorant state in which we occur most of the time. We have to want to find out what to do to make this change: to alter our destiny. Remember to read, reduce and recycle so that we can redress our reality.