I Think We Should Start Over - Audio Description
An audio described introduction and script to I Think We Should Start Over
Audio introduction
Welcome to this performance by Candoco Dance Company. ‘I think we should start over’ choreographed by Jamaal Burkmar. Audio described by Elaine Lillain Joseph from SoundScribe. Beginning and ending with a candid conversation between two podcasters that verges on confrontational, the dancers muse on everything from the stars, the start of the universe and friendship. The set is simple, consisting of three props on a rectangular stage. There’s a white table in the centre at the back of the stage with a backless stool positioned to its right. A mic in a stand is behind the table positioned in the middle. This piece features two dancers. Maiya Leeke is a white British woman in her mid twenties and Caroline Lofthouse is also white. Maiya is tall with shoulder length hair, sporting a blonde balayage which is scraped into a messy bun. She performs in an active wheelchair which has white front bars, angled wheels and a low back. In general she dances to the left of the table. Caroline has a slim, shorter build and cropped dyed blonde hair. She dances to the right of the table.
Along the way they connect and disconnect, communicating through articulated staccato gesticulations that are in time with the natural rhythm of spoken dialogue and song lyrics. Speech is translated into undulating body and head rolls, rapid spins accompanied by soaring arms and recurring diving motions. Abstract symbols correspond to the meaning of the words but also to the music and melody. When the pace of speech slows, the dancers too decelerate and offer looser, ponderous actions. They always find their way back to the table where they start over. The next soundscore is signalled by a beep.
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Caroline stalks over from the right, tight lipped, sits on the stool.
Maiya’s smile dies as she arrives at the table and pulls up on the left side.
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Eyes lock. Minute shifts of their bodies, betray rising tension. Communication breaks down. Caroline skulks back across the stage to the far right corner. Maiya leaves in the opposite direction, rolling her eyes.
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They gather themselves, waiting in opposite corners.
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They start over, returning to the table, subdued. And sit diagonally, angled towards the audience and this time move to the halting rhythm of the podcasters’ speech.
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Maiya is dominant, her hand movements sharp, brusk, precise. She embodies speaker B, Rick Glassman. Speaker B is confrontational, jokey to the point of rude. Caroline’s gestures are more thoughtful, on the verge of jumpy. In sync with speaker A, Bobby Lee, she plants a questioning finger on her cocked chin, nods in fervent agreement.
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She rises and twirls away from the table, stutters a leg back to her stool and sits. Maiya however continues gesticulating with haughty control, sometimes flexing a bicep.
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She extends clasped hands from her chest, pointing towards Caroline who severs the connection, sending Maiya’s arms swinging by her side.
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Armography accelerates. Laughter becomes swooping crescent arms above the head, then the mood darkens. Caroline’s buffeted backwards by Maiya’s frank stare and raised fists. But Caroline stands, head tilted back in defiance.
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Their gazes soften, shoulders relax.
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They break free from the table, centrestage and switch sides, Caroline left, Maiya right
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The pair move in arcing fluid lines, bowing their heads when they surge forward. The end of a phrase is punctuated by straight slanted arms flicked upwards, like rockets launching to the stars. Maiya aims a fist skyward, her gaze wistful, then lets her arm swing back down to earth.
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They embody new speakers, Hollie McNish and Bea Appleby, sometimes in unison, sometimes as a continuation of the other’s movement. Like satellites, they come in and out of each other’s orbit. A twist of the arm is echoed by the other, evolved into a snaking chair pivot or a wind-swept lunge.
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As if attracted by a magnet, when Caroline skips ahead on the diagonal, Maiya rolls backwards in her wake, a bond tethering them.
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Caroline patters backwards, hooked arms in front of her chest, clenched fists like balls of sun. Caroline drags her feet to the table, paving the way for Maiya who trails after her, bright eyed, smiling*
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Caroline adjusts the mic on her way to her stool, angling it to the centre. They appear relaxed, nodding in quiet conversation
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In response to the question, Caroline strides to the centre. Maiya joins on her right. A stuttered ripple works down from head to pointed toe. They’re in tight unison with each other AND Brian Greene’s monologue.
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Maiya’s straight arms, snapping to attention and repeated head dives, undulating her torso complement Caroline’s statuesque poses. Caroline raises one finger in the air and shifts her weight with one leg pointed.
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On the spot, they swim their arms in expansive, exploratory strokes.
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Maiya sets her chair in motion with a swift push. It freerolls as she extends clasped hands from her chest, pointing ahead, then deflates with a torso dive and sharp brake. She seeks Caroline. In the stillness of the moment, they exchange a smile.
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A short burst of rapid movement towards the audience: Caroline bounds, arms balletic. Meanwhile Maiya's hands form expressive, constantly changing angles.
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Both are incessant, lecturing to the audience.
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Maiya manoeuvres left to right and as she crosses Caroline’s path, the duo periodically sync up. Hands dive from their chests, they spin past each other, a gulf of space between them.
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Caroline twirls on the spot, into kneeling and Maiya folds her hands in her lap. Eyes lock.
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Music continues as they retreat to the table.
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Caroline calmly takes a seat on the stool, faces the front. Maiya parks in front of the table, side on, angled towards Caroline.
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They both spring to life at Bill Bryson’s ‘Welcome’ moving to the pattern of his speech.
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Bowed, Caroline slinks forward, facing left. Her eyes on Maiya. One leg paddles in circles behind her. Maiya pushes abruptly forward and jerks backwards.
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Tender, delicate, in slow motion, their hands float down, simulating drifting atoms
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They dance independently, Caroline occupying the right with earth-bound lunged steps and Maiya facing the back in line with the table, gesticulating with the flourish of a hand.
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For a moment their arm movements match, both hands wafting the air by their sides then a tumbling rotation.
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They switch sides.
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Maiya mimes ‘existence’ with her arms forming an L shape. Her right fingers wiggle, as if each has a mind of their own. Caroline’s mid-step, arms extended in an empty embrace.
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They manipulate the air, grasping, conjuring invisible atoms, releasing them with a deft flick of a downturned hand, sowing them across the full range of the stage
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There’s a continuous flow of movement as they map out unseen networks of matter.
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The pace slows, movements are delicate, light. They pass something between them at greater distances.
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Their gaze seeks out the audience
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They're side by side
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The ribbon of time is a fluctuating hand movement, started by Maiya and continued by Caroline from hand to arm to head to chest. They ripple again, their heads diving and resurfacing. Caroline briefly paces away then reunites and this time when they dive their heads they gaze at each, eyes level.
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Moments of slowness caught in the freefall of drifting atoms
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Maiya rotates a shoulder and the motion is picked up by Caroline who wheels her arm in reply. Their arms swing, pendulous
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Clasped hands above their heads, spring open, the gap widening as if they’re holding an expanding mass. Eyes fixed skyward in wonder
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Caroline takes centrestage, contorting her body to each element:
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outlining the suggestion of hexagonal shapes with a twist of her hips
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Maiya executes sharp turns, eyes still fixed above, accelerates diagonally to the front left corner and flips her flat palm up, in time with Caroline. Everything slows. Raised palms curl into fists then dissolve by their sides.
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And now they meander aimlessly
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sometimes catching each other's eye
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sometimes rolling in reverse
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crisscrossing the expanse of stage in irregular paths.
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They make their way back to the table and resume their customary positions opposite each other.
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Maiya has both palms flat on the table. Caroline’s hands are resting on her knees.
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Maiya slumps forward on the table. Caroline waits patiently, legs crossed.
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Maiya awakens. She presents her case to Caroline, who listens. Her arms arc and sweep over the surface of the table, over her head in graceful, stirring whirls.
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Expressive in their repetition, each shape and symbol grows from the lyrics.
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Caroline leans forward in thought, elbows resting on the table
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Caroline’s turn. As Maiya finishes her argument, Caroline draws closer, grips the mic stand and adjusts the mic towards herself. Maiya listens.
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Caroline hands slide across the table, jab and point, laying out the lyrics.
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Almost rising from her stool, shoulders shimmy, growing more fervent.
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Hands thrust open palms in Maiya’s direction, and her body rocks as she gets her point across
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They contemplate each other
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Maiya turns the mic back to the centre.
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Now in tune with each other, both press palms against the table’s surface and sway in a circle, heads tipped back
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It takes two goes to push off from the table, spin, and seesaw from one side of the stage to the other.
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Their movements are freer, led by but not in strict time to the drawl of Father John Misty’s voice
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Arms soar high then low - surging waves swelling and crashing
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A duet, side by side. Finally connected, they each express a deluge of shapes and moves but this time in agreement, echoing each other. They are swept up by the melody, surrendering to the piano’s rhythm
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They separate exploring the space.
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Sometimes they follow the same path, sometimes they deviate. Caroline pursues Maiya with a tilting one legged hop and throws something small and fragile to her. She catches and releases it.
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Movements become limp. Maiya dives an arm towards Caroline who proffers an open hand in return. Spent. they pause.
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Softer now, Caroline swipes the air. A beat and Maiya does the same.
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Unhurried with languid lifts of the arm, they wend their way back to the table, locating each other with brief glances
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On this meandering course they pass something between them, lightly.
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Maiya pulls up to the front. Caroline stands before her stool and bends, sliding a hand down a leg without sitting down. Head turns left in time with Maiya’s and they add an outstretched, diving arm
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Both tip back and forth, rocking on the spot not quite in sync, finding their own balance and rhythm. The motion migrates to their arms, sending them into arcing waves at their sides.
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Caroline’s buffeted away and Maiya watches but does not pursue, instead remaining by the table preoccupied with her own sequence
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A flurry of former moves replay over the spoken dialogue: Maiya’s L shape for existence, Caroline’s bounding deep lunges
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They swim past each other, giddy, painting the air with broad sweeping strokes
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Maiya triggers a ripple, a ribbon between them and passes the movement to Caroline
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Caroline swipes a hand over Maiya's head as they undulate together. The occasional motif is caught by the other but the bond between the dancers ultimately falters
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Building to a climax of ideas: the slanted rocket arms, a dissolving fist offered to the sky, shivers of laughter.
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They race to the table for the final time so fast Maiya skids her wheels. Faces aflame with frustration
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Intricate gestures become more pronounced, bolder, louder even. Both are strident, embodying the podcasters from the start of the piece. They're not listening to each other, consumed by their own repetitive articulations.
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Maiya - grandiose, haughty. Caroline - timid, thoughtful
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Minute shifts of their bodies betray rising tension. Caroline slumps, her head in her lap
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They manage to smile at each other, try to talk it out
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Laughing with the track, they draw away from the table and exit, Maiya left Caroline right.