The river
In the year 2020, Clément Layes and Jasna L. Vinovrški experienced profound losses as they bid farewell to some of their parents and dear friends. It was a time when the world was grappling with the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, and the need for compassion and connection resonated strongly within their hearts. Additionally, they were confronted with the taboo topic of mortality, an ever-present reality in our lives. The pandemic served as a stark reminder that they did not want to resume their existence as if nothing had changed.
Amidst this era of anxiety, the idea of The River began to take shape as a form of resistance against the illusion of immortality. The River symbolised constant transformation and the flow of life, akin to their journeys that led from humble springs to the vast ocean. Rivers can also be found in myth, such as the Styx, and the river Lethe; a river that bestows forgetfulness upon those who drink from it—erasing memories of the afterlife or even one’s pre-birth existence, thereby shrouding the “other
world” in mystery.
“About the river”
Rivers hold immense significance in our lives, both as a central aspect of our existence and as vulnerable entities in need of protection.
They are revered as goddesses in various cultures; some rivers have even been granted legal personhood. For example, the Whanganui River, a major river in New Zealand that is of importance to the region’s Māori people, was given its own legal identity, with the rights, duties and liabilities of a legal person in 2017.
The river Clément and Jasna sought to explore was not only a physical body of water but also a metaphorical passage that connects and separates us from death. A profound thought resonated within them “all our tears flow into the same river.”
Their exploration of the river took two distinct forms:
1. The River I: During the summer, Aimé C. Songe, also known as Clément, and a group of colleagues embarked on a boat tour in Berlin. Traversing the waterways as the sun set, they guided one spectator through a meditative experience.
2. The River II: In the winter, Jasna created a performance, an installation, and a film. This immersive experience delved into the realms of grief and mourning.
Throughout this process, Clément and Jasna engaged in various workshops and collaborative ventures. They sought guidance from therapists, shamans, funeral directors and even a deep-sea diver. The team also included death doulas, experts in craniosacral therapy and poets. Together, they danced, swam, learned the art of tending to the deceased, explored the intricacies of co-regulation; and floated in contemplation of the babies nestled in amniotic fluid. Under the enchanting sunsets and the luminescent glow of the full moon, they experienced transcendent dreams.
Enriched by this profound journey, Clément and Jasna aspire to share not just the performances but also the wealth of knowledge they accumulated during their research. Thus, the idea of the River Cards was born—a set of cards designed to facilitate the process of grieving.
The River Cards encompass four distinct families:
1. Water: Linked to the river and its essence, these cards explore the interconnectedness of life and the flowing nature of our experiences.
2. Rain: These cards delve into the realm of grief, acknowledging the emotional downpours that accompany loss.
3. Sun: Drawn by Hanna Zviahintseva, these cards represent both The River I and The River II, encapsulating the essence of Clément and Jasna’s journey.
4. Clouds: Illustrated by Aimé C. Songe, these cards mirror the transformative process the artists and their accomplices experienced throughout their exploration.
The death and loss of a loved one and the grief that accompanies it are profound messages about the limited time and the limited control we have.
Is the river ready when it enters the ocean?
Breathe, breathe, while you can.
This water is constantly changing. The river – a second later - is not the same river. Perhaps this is why the sensation of time is different when we are on a boat?
I like the texture of flower petals. I like their fragility and tenderness... It reminds me of how sensitive the body is, how it can feel, sense, express and above all how it can relate to this world. At least, that’s the memory I would like to keep about my body when I die. That is, if at the end I can remember at all.
Water will hear you, it will sense what you are saying. Water Has Memory.
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped into the next room.
And we stand under the shower feeling the warmth of the water bring us back to our bodies. We jump into freezing cold lakes and feel our edges contract. We go to the edge of land and watch the ripples and hear the waves. What is it about water that we need in these times? Perhaps we go towards water because we choose to live with loss.
Someone told me about a tradition in Japan in which you invite your dead ancestors into your home for one week. At the end of the week, you make a little paper boat, put a candle on it and float it in water. Once the boat is floating away, you turn your back to the boat and you do not look back until the year after when your ancestors are once again invited to live with you.
As salty water is heavier than sweet water, it sinks. This creates streams in the ocean when the two meet. There are also rivers in the oceans. I distract myself with these kinds of thoughts.
In Germany funeral speeches are often held by professionals. These professionals are called “Trauer redner”, or in English, “funeral speakers”. Once I met a colleague of mine at the MacGeiz shop at Kottbusser Damm in Berlin; we were both buying some gadgets for our kids. He was a great performer who had worked with many Berlin choreographers and I wondered why I hadn’t seen him on stage lately. He explained to me that he had enough of dance and that he had decided to change his profession to “Trauerredner”. It was surreal for me to hear that, but at the same time I found it very intriguing. I would have loved to see him perform on that different stage, in front of such a different audience, in a completely different context.
One moment your are shopping for an electric toothbrush on the internet and the second after you get bitten by a snake, and, as you slowly fade into unconsciousness, you think: “I wonder if this is how mermaids found their way back to the ocean?”
I read about a person who described a near-death experience as having a feeling of 360 degree peripheral vision. She could be everywhere at the same time. Wherever she would put her awareness, there she was. She was in an expansive state. She was moving in the realm of total clarity, where she understood absolutely everything.
We do not know if a river can dream, but I like to think it does. I think the river dreams mostly when it is not moving much. In French we call this ‘eau dormantes’, sleeping water. As the river supports us, maybe we can feel some of its dreams.
Sometimes when I enter a car, though it is for a small trip, I like to imagine that I am going really far. I like to imagine that I’m starting a long journey from which I don’t know when or if I’m coming back.
Once I was on a really large boat, crossing the “navigable” waters of my hometown, passing slowly through neighbourhoods, in silence. The people around looked at me with disbelief on their faces: A boat in a town? Impossible!
You are defined by movement, you’re a moving being. You will not know in your lifetime what it is to be inanimate. But maybe you can imagine it? It’s poetry.
The river needs attention.
Most people look very relaxed in death, very peaceful, very arrived...
After lunch, I tell the story of the whale’s evolution from single-cell organism to water creature and how it crawled onto land and became a mammal over millennia of continuous change. A few people chuckle when I describe the huge goat-like beast that probably found grace on sharp rocks with it’s hooves. As I tell the story of its return to water some people cry and rock their bodies like waves in the breeze. I end by inviting a chorus of fake whale song...
Many people find this acute time of mourning very painful and draining, but also very enriching. When you deal with death, you understand more about life. You get more involved with your natural state, with your body. It grounds you tremendously, it takes you back from this abstract society that we have built. Death brings you back to the essential themes of life...
Rio
Orinoco
Yukon
Congo
Rio de plata
Madre de Dios Spree
It affects us deeply when our own parents die.
One reason for this is that our childhood is really over, as we can no longer entertain the role of “child”. Another is that you yourself move a step forward in terms of mortality. You become aware of your own mortality. When nature takes its natural course, I’m the next to go... That does a lot to you.
GLOSSARY
(A)- Asaf Aharonson: author, performer, host of the River 1
(B)- Birgit Scheffler: funeral house director
(C)-Clément Layes: choreographer, author, director of the River 1
(F)- Franziska Dieterich: therapeutic supervision, workshop facilitator for the River 1
(J)- Jasna L. Vinovrški: choreographer, author, director of the River 2
(JA)- Johanna Ackva: translator, host of the River 1
(T)-Tiago Rosa: author, performer, host of the River 1
(S)- Shannon Cooney: author, performer, host of the River 1
(Z)-Zinzi Buchanan: author, performer, death doula, host of the River 1
(A-C)- quoting Alexis Pauline Gumbs in Dub: Finding Ceremony
(J-H)- quoting Henry Scott Holland’s poem
(S-JM)- Shannon Cooney quoting Joesphine
Mandamin: Water Walker, Grandmother, Anishinaabe Nation
(J0)- Jonas Rutgeerts: Dramaturge
CREDITS
Concept: Clément Layes, Jasna L. Vinovrški
Dramaturgy: Jonas Rutgeerts
Drawing of the family “sun”:
Hanna Zviahintseva
Drawings of the family “cloud": Aimé C. Songe
Design: Mia Stark
Proof reading: Beatrix Joyce
Production / Care: Tammo Walter, Tiphaine
Carrère
Press / Com: Aïsha Mia Lethen Bird
THE RIVER project is funded by the Berlin Senate Department for Culture and Europe and supported by Fonds Darstellende Künste with funds from the Federal Government Commissioner for Culture and Media within the program NEUSTART KULTUR. Cie. Public in Private supported by DIEHL+RITTER/ TANZPAKT RECONNECT, which is funded by the German Federal Government Commissioner for Culture and the Media as part of the NEUSTART KULTUR initiative. Thanks to Flutgraben e.v.
The River I
II
Public in private
The River
Mia Stark
Hanna Zviahintseva
