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| Dancers perform in Zoe/Juniper's "Clear and Sweet" photo by James Morgan/Morgan Owens Photography |
More than a year ago, Zoe
Scofield and I sat down at her kitchen table to talk about the power of art.
I’d been chasing an ephemeral scrap of an idea for months; how art functions as
a conduit to the divine, to a state of grace, if you will. I thought Scofield
might have some insights.
During our long conversation, Scofield,
one of the smartest artists I’ve met, remarked that she and her
husband/artistic partner Juniper Shuey, were hard at work on a new piece
inspired by a musical tradition known as shape note, or sacred harp, singing.
The project goes back to 2014. Scofield
was visiting her mother’s home in northern Georgia and happened upon a
television broadcast that featured shape note singers. She felt an immediate
emotional connection with the music.
In a nutshell, shape note singing
is a communal, participatory tradition that dates back a couple of centuries in
this country. Singers of all abilities gather on a regular basis to perform the
music which is drawn from certain Protestant hymnals. The notes on the score are indicated
by different shapes, to facilitate sight reading for the singers,
hence the name “shape note singing.”
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| Singing with the audience, part of Zoe/Juniper's "Clear and Sweet" photo by James Morgan/Morgan Owens Photography |
The harmonies sound as if
they've emerged, raw and resonant and primeval, from the Appalachian hills. The singers face inwards, and when they lift their voices together, the sound
vibrates. You can almost feel it, the way you can feel the vibrations from a tuning fork.
When Scofield got back to
Seattle, she and Shuey started to sing with a local shape note group. Their
experience has led the couple on both a spiritual and artistic journey that
most recently resulted in “Clear and Sweet.”
The work’s Seattle premiere at On
the Boards October 20-23, featured ten shape note singers, five dancers, an
original recorded score, plus video and visual art. It was a moving mix of
intricate movement and music, and one of the most personal and vulnerable
performances I’ve seen this year. At times "Clear and Sweet" brought me to
tears, evoked laughter, gave me a sense of fellowship with the people in the
room, both the artists and the audience members.
In “Clear and Sweet,” the line
between performer and witness is quite permeable. The dancers and singers
mingle and chat with the audience. Then,one by one, they drift off to begin the show. Regularly, they
return to straight-backed wooden chairs placed in the first row of the audience
seating, to rest, or sing, or watch along with the rest of us.
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| Zoe Scofield, in blindfold, with her dancers in "Clear and Sweet" Photo by James Morgan/Morgan Owens Photography |
One striking element of this show is that the dancers
spend significant time blindfolded, either groping their way around the
floor, or being guided by a fellow artist. They’re searching for something,
in the same way we’re all searching for something in this life, whether it’s love,
or money or something more existential: salvation, meaning, to leave our mark
on this world.
I must tell you that all the
dancers were technically polished, that the plaintive harmonies of the singers
were haunting, that Shuey’s central installation-- a hanging circle of fringe
on which he projected moving images--was a visual metaphor for the path to the
divine. In all, “Clear and Sweet” is a stunning and accomplished work of art.
More than that, it's a springboard for reflection.
Juniper Shuey told me he’s been
pondering the question “what do I believe in?” In this hip, progressive 21st
century city, it’s not really cool to discuss one’s search for spiritual
fulfillment. And yet, lately, in private conversations, you discover that we’re
all searching for that exact same thing.
"Clear and Sweet" provided an opportunity to recognize that search in one another.
After the performance ended,
the audience lingered, eager to talk about the experience, the work, where it
resonated with each of us, like the lingering vibration of a tuning fork.
I’m still sitting with the power
of "Clear and Sweet", turning it over and over in my mind, finding new meaning
with each turn. And so grateful that Zoe/Juniper opened the door to contemplation.
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| Dancers in "Clear and Sweet" Photo by James Morgan/Morgan Owens Photography |
