D
PUNITIVE WORM AND THE MIRRORED TUNNELS
NA ARTS FOUNDATION
OCTOBER 2023
Punitive Worm & The Mirrored Tunnels
Players
[Glass]
Jasper: Status of Liberty centerpiece
Jacob: The Crystal Palace of Desire adroit
[Silk]
Marie: Verge: Gregor:
Ascot Ascot Ascot
high society destruction
Camellia: Gathering
Odelia: Aromatic,
[Mechanicals]
Asa: Hourglass spinning
Troy: Fuego holding it down
Magdalene: Auctioneer one hundred thousand
[Elementals]
Nikki: Metalloid
Ce: Teal Phoenix
[Orchestra]
Josh: Junkyard Yenju: Tree
Mas: Bruxaria Z.No: Vocalizations
-----
Movements + Musical Cues
1. Nesting
2. Horse Race
3. Opening the Jar
4. Blood
[percussion] [violin] [synth]
1.[ gorgeous and gentle ]
2.[jovial, absurd]
3.[experiment as you please]
4.[docile to rising noise/ harsh/ falling apart]
1.transfixes light earth and ash
2.of Mice
3.pause. greenthumb, pensive
4.pleasant day, stolen thimble
PUNITIVE WORM + THE MIRRORED TUNNELS
I. Nesting
Slow ethereal pace, underwater. Sentimentality, pleasant peace, plant consciousness. Major
Tableau moments. This is the calm before the storm. A fawn is born in the doorway.
Colored lights on orchestra, spotlight on Status of Liberty, later another shines onto Yenju + the tree.
Spotlight open to Status of Liberty, as if they are alone and unbothered in their bedroom, doing makeup, making calls, texting vigorously, typing away on laptop, all while wearing crab hands and dressed incredibly sexy. Fishnets and hot red. Gossip. Really call a friend and talk tea. Take hot selfies. Cam.
Players are milling about, playing catch, laying down, chatting. Hourglass is belly dancing.
Violin begins by the tree, Yenju is singing in Chinese, Gathering of mice proclaims, “ A Fawn is born in the doorway.” ALL “As every good story begins.”
Elementals are hanging twigs and strings, fabric, and trash onto branches, making a nest.
The Crystal Palace is filling up various glasses of water and holding them to the light, mixing, swirling, spinning,
creating color refractions in the spotlight. Tasting, planting seeds with the water. Auctioneer places fish bait inside the jars measuring and counting. Sorting endlessly.
Aromatic, pause. is mixing cranberry vodkas with mint and passing them out to the crowd. Uttering gardening tips.
Ascots are sitting on the side with large flowery hats, dressed over the top. They are high society to a fault, feeding each other red jelly with spoons, and eventually with their hands. They are commenting on everything, the floor, the sky, each other. They are constantly sharing their opinions on everything, talking, amongst themselves in between scoops of jelly, never fully audible. Eyes are covered with thin fabric.
Fuego fires up the grill.
Metalloid: “Increasingly, backroads and hallways from my childhood have been returning before I wander to sleep. Faucets and wall papers and the commingling of my mother’s hair with the salt of my tears. Laying on the carpet. Windows shaking from blueish thunder. Peaches on a plate and squirrel watching from the kitchen. Layers and layers of decaying leaves. Sometimes i wonder how to return to the place of living for hours in a sun ray. Elongating my body, changing the trajectory of my nightmares, Following an ant, ...but this is not that.”
II. Horse Race
Popcorn on the seats. Day drunk. Pomp and circumstance. Got past the gate for free. World Fair.
Spotlight chases puppet, then shines on grill.
The mood shifts in a second to lively and day drunk screwy. The beginning of a bad trip, before the clowns descend. A horse race begins, but where are the horses? This is some other creature. Elementals carry large sculpture racing and chasing each other, through the audience. They are like cubs playing. Ascots take turns standing and cheering. They do the wave.
Violin picks up and Auctioneer begins narrating into the mic with classic selling voice, speaking surreal language, “When i was young my mother told me to fit myself into a mouse hole. I wondered, how rich and full of resources the world would be if i was 200 times smaller..But maybe its not my size.” Jibberish and etcetera.
Ascots are now playing a precarious version of pool on the ground throughout the audience. The Crystal Palace continues to shift his experiments about.
Spotlight moves to the grill.
Fuego is full on flipping fake grilled cheeses into the air and scattered about. Hourglass is dancing and delivering real grilled cheeses to audience.
Grilled cheese war between him and Gathering of Mice who is collecting foam cheeses, and stacking them by the lamp light.
She screams, “DUMB LUCK IS MY ANGEL!” Over and over, until all players stop their commotion and collect by the lamppost.
III. Opening the Jar
New birth, innovation. Clarity. And then the daydream thickens.
The Crystal Palace whistles a little tune. “I wish to live as an Orca whale, no set of keys. I wish to live like a hummingbird, tasting my own brain.”
During the commotion Teal Phoenix has secretly been concealed in a scrunched pink parachute at the center of the courtyard. A light changes color from within the hub. This is the child’s fort. This is safety. The embryo. It pulses. All players come to the parachute, take a side and spread it out.
Aromatic, pause. operates Barbie camcorder projections and sneaks underneath the parachute to film from every angle. As this is happening Teal Phoenix begins turning all of the animatronics on. They are leashed together. The pink parachute is lifted by all players, Teal Phoenix rises and walks dogs, gently unleashing them all. They wander throughout the crowd.
Players transports all animatronics toward bricked in section of the courtyard, and repositions them constantly, this is a give and take game between all.
Elementals read aloud from a business and marketing handbook and ripping out pages from them. Crystal Palace of desire collects papers and dances with them, slowly tap dancing.
IV. Blood
Bait and switch. Deeply sinking, feral delight.
Spotlight to Orchestra. Junkyard making out with air. All players making out with air, spotlight to each rapidly.
Metalloid “I will sync my bloodwork to a tropical storm. In hope all this flotsam’s grinding toward a pearl. But shit, the tape’s winding backward, sucked up by the machine making our bread, tornado over the sea... we call that
REAL BAD LUCK.
With,”
ALL “No math for reflection.”
Merry go round with parachute. Growing, ask audience to join, Players take the fish bait out of jars and place onto Parachute and then undulate parachute so fish bait flies. Then blood bath amongst all consenting players and audience plants. Take blood pill from pocket and bite each other’s flesh. Bite out of jealousy, bite out of lust. Bite flesh out of anger. This is deeply exaggerated and drawn out, naked if u wanna. Continue until momentum dies, hold hands and get upon knees with head to the earth.
Instruments are left, synth carries out on a drone.
End.