CUT UP HISTORICAL DOCUMENT FROM AN EMAIL (found poem) Mar 3, 2017
by Sara Ann
CUT UP HISTORICAL DOCUMENT FROM AN EMAIL
FROM A DIFFERENT PERSON NAMED JOHN
ON THE PURCHASE AND EXAMINATION
OF THE CURRENT OTB BUILDING
WITH REFERENCES TO WASHINGTON HALL
We met many many years ago. You don’t remember and that’s fine.
to 100 West Roy tonight … opening the doors
I remember the evening … as clear as this morning. KIRO, KOMO and KING had all been predicting a windstorm of unprecedented strength. They said it would sweep over the city by four pm and that everyone was advised to be off the roads by then. We were told there would be power outages from downed power lines.
Yes, we’ve heard about the storm but is there really a storm? As always, the dumpsters were redolent with the fish sauce pooled up in the bottom, a gift from the Korean Senior Kitchen who shared the building with us. The skies were gray, heavy with clouds. And the clouds weren’t moving. There was no wind and certainly no windstorm. xxxxx smoked nervously and I probably joined him but maybe not.
our favorite cowboy … a plan for paying back the cowboy
xxxxxx had left the building years earlier. Untended… the systems of the building began to fail and repairing systems in an abandoned building
Still no wind. a quorum or not.
xxxxxx who managed the strange the odd and the upending with flannelled aplomb… the very best to toil in the fields of Seattle. She really knew cash flow. Everyone should be so lucky or even that honest. cash on hand. Cold, hard, well-earned cash… operating expenses.
our inner sanctum of audience/artists/volunteers said no… The old home … is now only a whiff of memory… a vertical lobby … wide, sturdy staircase was … hang out on the stairs, pointing … memories… a shared artistic vocabulary. retrieved the rotting fetid corpses of dead birds that rested in the rafters above their head.
A treasure beyond measure… to perform in a blackout.
steely resolve or firmness of the instruction. Revenues had to meet Expenses. Cash in the bank. You must keep them together.
Dutifully, everyone looked at them… it was the space that mattered, not the history… the aisle at the top of the stairs a complex maze of storage spaces… Every last inch of the room was filled, floor to ceiling. So when the space was discussed… the architectural plans… That’s not what the room looked like. Please look again.
we gutted the room down to just the four walls… the room you know today is that room without inflection.
She fucking made the deal happen. So we purchased the building and the plan was to let it sit… There was a repair that had to be made to the roof or we’d risk extensive damage to the building. That was done. We needed to do that.
I returned tonight to the room… which still holds all the potential one needs for magic to illuminate the dark.
[Written by artist, performer, and OtB Operations Manager, Sara Ann Davidson, from an email in the "OtB History" file, as part of the research for a site-specific work being created by Syniva Whitney/Gender Tender for the 2017 NW New Works Festival]rehearsal photo by Syniva Whitney