Still Hungry
Why STOMP! cracked open longing and containment
I leaned over to Todd within the first minute of the performance of STOMP! we watched last Saturday and said, “I love it already.”
Who would think a 105-minute show of only percussion would move me so much that it has stayed with me days after?
I sat towards the front at the end of the row against the theater’s wall. I’m so glad I had that seat because I could move with the beat and not bother anyone. And during the show, I teared up twice. Why would I cry at a show filled with trash items and no dialogue?
Interestingly, the younger women sitting in front of me were not responding like I was. They didn’t stand for an ovation when I lept out of my seat. They were observers, while I was having a visceral experience where my heartbeat changed, I couldn’t help but move, and tears were springing to my eyes.
I wonder if maybe they didn’t feel free to respond with their bodies in front of their friends. Or this version of art wasn’t speaking to them the same way. Maybe the hunger hasn't arrived yet.
Todd can attest. My favorite fireworks are the ones that have a deep boom. I love the part of the parade when the marching bands only use their drums. Give me force I can feel throughout my body. STOMP! gave it to me through intensity and rhythm.
I’ve always mistaken this preference for personality. Maybe it’s something deeper.
You might not appreciate what’s loud enough to change your heart rate. But there are a lot of art forms that reach our bodies. It’s why rock concerts, sex, and dancing are so popular. It’s why scenes from our favorite stories bring tears to our eyes and linger in our dreams. Some forms of art reach the body before the mind organizes meaning.
For 105 minutes, I came alive. I have been so tired because of my menopausal sleep quality, but that didn’t matter while watching the dancers crash in rhythm with mundane things like grocery carts and kitchen sinks. I was immersed in a bodily experience. Most of all, the experience of STOMP! overrode my emotional containment, something I long for in middle age.
There’s a strange loneliness of wanting more immersion than modern life provides. For example, in my marriage, life is safe and comfortable. I often hold my intensity in check for peaceful evenings and chaste goodnight kisses. I keep my longing tucked away in one of the rooms of my heart. STOMP! temporarily opened the door.
I’d love to know what kinds of art go beyond language for you. What meets the intensity you carry privately?
In the story with you,
Jenny
I remember seeing them back in the 90s or early oughts. They were magnificent! I felt something similar when we went to see Riverdance. Something about the drums resonates with the marrow of my bones.
I also cried a couple times when we watched Stomp. I had tears streaming down my face during the entirety of a Taiko drumming concert. I think that kind of thing taps into primal energy and our primitive brain, juiced up on adrenaline and endorphins, gets to come out and play! I. LOVE. IT.