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Alan Bruntonrecollections |
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Dear Alan, I know you saw me performing in New York many many years ago, but I really met you for the first time in the technical room of the theatre in Wellington, during Magdalena Aotearoa. I was jet lagged, I was preparing Ana Woolf's performance, I was probably not very communicative. I remember you had a video and I remember you smiling. I had no idea who you where, but you seemed to be at ease with all the women rushing about the place. You asked me some questions - gently. Our next meeting was at the train station in Holstebro, when you came with Sally to the Transit Festival at Odin Teatret. You got off the train, again looking very confident, even in the very cold Danish winter and after the trip from the other side of the world. Sally's hat made it difficult for her to recognise me, but you seemed to know that I was the person waiting. It was very nice to have you at the theatre. Your presence was felt as poet, technician, actor and companion. I remember your curiosity and sense of humour, your long straggly hair, your light eyes. I remember your bad foot, and your staying up all night to rehearse with Deborah. You said you could sleep later. After that you sent me some letters, indications of books to read and an article you had written. I thank you for sharing your time, knowledge and dreams. I thank you for all you have given to so many people who miss you now. I can hear you saying to us: keep at it, there is so much to do, don't be sad, enjoy life and continue the struggle, you can sleep later! With love, Julia
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