in the beginning we were all performers | Rupinder Kaur Waraich
18th December 2024The following text was co-commissioned as a part of our Live Art Writers Network (LAWN) at Fierce Festival in October 2024. This programme worked with three Birmingham-based writers: Harmanpreet Randhawa, Rupinder Kaur, and Leah Hickey to generate creative critical responses to the festival context. LAWN is a network aimed at cultivating experimental writing practices happening in dialogue with performance and live art, find out more about LAWN here.
Listen to the text:
What defines a border? A fragment, a sensation, a drop of water. To live. To be alive. To breathe as art, to exist in the present. Eyes closed, eyes open. To breathe. Whose body? My body, your body, our collective body. A border, a fragment, a sensation, a drop of water. Alive. Art that lives and breathes. Live art.
The body—borders, autonomy, ownership. A ritual of coming home, of returning.
Among garden mosaics, we hold onto fragments, then let go. What defines a border? A question that haunts the political landscape. To be free. To know this is home. Birmingham.
Live art captures fragments of human existence, where the soul lingers, becoming alive in the moment. Sensations break free: who is the spectator, who the audience, who the performer? Who watches, and who performs—and why?
Why does any artist create? Art is a medium of expression, a common theme echoed by the writers at this festival. Here the act of writing is not so different from creating art itself.
The fierce festival, it’s home in my hometown, Birmingham yet this was my first time to attend. I have been curious about attending but for some reason I was not able to attend. Identity, borders, queerness— the feeling of betweenness, the feeling of being on a border, not quite either side.
I am writing about the betweenness, my reflections, some poems, some notes, some thoughts.
PROLOGUE
ਆਗਾਜ਼ ਤੋਂ ਅਸੀਂ ਸਾਰੇ ਕਲਾਕਾਰ ਸਾਂ – in the beginning we were all performers
ਭਾਸ਼ਾ ਤੋਂ ਪਰੇ ਬੋਲਣਾ, ਰੂਹ ਦੀ ਤਮੰਨਾ – speaking beyond language, the desire of the soul
ਰਕਸ, ਕਲਾ, ਰੂਹ ਦੀ ਭਾਸ਼ਾ – dance, art the language of the soul
ਅੱਜ ਅਸੀਂ ਕਿੱਥੇ ਹਾਂ – where are we today?
ACT 1 Common Salt by artists Sheila Ghelani and Sue Palmer
A legacy of what, nothing—
left. our collective amnesia. trade
tea, salt, the railways who can forget…
A maze at Hampton Court Palace.
A performance lecture ahead, shruti box opens
conversation on green lands, the lands, whose land.
tube stops. east India docks. colonial and geographical
history.
Hedges, boundary hedges, physical hedges. Seeded
along the customs line, growing over decades to create
a massive customs barrier to tax salt, 2504 miles long.
Black and white film footage. interwoven. what human
realities? the various animals owned by Eliza Brightwen examine
carefully.
The horrors, the man made famines. the remnants
in our brick walls, marble arches, spice racks, fabric patterns.
what about the landless peasants? maps unfolded, narratives laid
objects shown around. show and tell. gandhi is always a hero.
FRAGMENTS 1
performance utopia / fragments together / borders how they transcend / geographical places / reimaging art / writing in relation to art / formless / a visual diary / what is in front of me / how does it affect me / summoning as a experience / summoning as a ritual / language / ritual / breathing / awakening / live art / existing in life
ACT 2 Various Artists, How Does It Feel?
How does it feel to be watched? Where do you let your gaze fall? Suddenly, my phone begins to play a song, breaking the silence. The line blurs between spectator and viewer—who is invited, and who remains an outsider? There’s a delicate awkwardness in this shared space, a push to let go. Viewing takes on different levels, each coloured by past, present, and future. The space around us feels like a void—a Black space—where the roles of spectator and viewer mingle in silent exchange.
Circles of noise emerge, heightening the anticipation. What comes next? The silence grows even more awkward; yet, we hold the gaze. I remember: I was a child once. Dance becomes a language, a way to open the body, revealing its shapes and patterns, mapping the world, and stepping boldly into darkness. Here, the body is always first.
The naked body— a reclamation. This body is mine.
ACT 2.5 Twine, Selina Thompson
A traditional theatre play, a living tapestry of words, movement, and light. The grand stage with three actors. Sometimes becoming a mother, daughter, sister, a carer. Sometimes nothing, to feel the height of emotion, grief, laughter, love, joy—in silence, witnessing live drama– the symphony of the human experience. Theatre is not cinema, here everything is in real time, alive. Feel your heartbeat.
Twine, Selina Thomson, image by Manuel Vason
Which act unfolds as the curtain opens.
Here we have the journey of Seed, Bark
and Sapling.
Rebellious wild branches growing.
Under roaring skies, holding hands—remembering
home as the spirits of ancestors watch.
Memories clinging yet they flee— the soul takes its flight.
Desires grow. Breaking tradition, past myths, bodies
speaking the truth. Nature’s embrace shapes revolt.
Beyond lineages and legacies a new world imagained—
How do you carry grief / three split selves / peace
Freedom and love weave a dance of their own,
where joy and rebellion are forever allies. Mothers,
daughters, united. Everything is forgotten.
The sycamore calls— roots reclaimed.
A play of creation. A story of joy, twined
here today. What myth?
Blackout.
ACT 3 Entepfuhl, Alina Arshi
Every movement, action matters, the anticipation of what will happen next. A contemporary setting. A woman becomes Kali. The gaze lingers. How do you hold space for yourself and others, the body of the spaces? Double performance. The Goddess encounters.
Entepfuhl, Alina Arshi, image by Manuel Vason
Soundspace of traffic moving through India, bollywood songs, the horn beeps, the random shouting moving to the nervous hand bites, moving across the body. Looking out for something walking across old printed sarees, who is the viewer? The chant of something, perhaps something religious. The music shifts. The gaze reminded me of village women in Amrita Sher-gil Bride’s Toilet painting.
Amrita Sher-Gil, Bride’s Toilet, 1937
The gaze of women, staring, that powerful gaze that Medusa had but here our performer becomes Kali– tongue out, opening of the geometry of the body, fast tempo music, tongue out. Classical Indian music on high speed, tongue still out, saliva dropping, noises of traffic return, Kali watches, the silence of audience members. This is the end.
rupinder, joya air, meeting kali, 2022
performance art / thousands of years / here and there / performance becomes a prayer / performance becomes a ritual / performance a vessel between God and the body / performer embodies the divine / there is no separation / there is no border / this oral performance / this sacred text / performance of divinity / performance of homecoming /
a return / to feel the soul / alive / awake / here / present
Entephul, Alina Arshi, image by Manuel Vason
LINGERING QUESTIONS: LAWN OPEN GATHERING
- How does the body hold space?
- What is the creation of movement?
- How do we embody oral tradition in live art?
- Do audiences mirror the performer?
- What is a form?
- What does it mean to live in relation to live art?
- How do you hold onto a thought that comes to you when watching live art?
- What is our collective response to live art—as artists, as humans experiencing emotions?
- What is summoned into the space when watching live art?
- Can live art writing be reflective rather than critical?
FRAGMENTS 2
questions are endless / borders / waiting / one day /
something will change / bring peace / with answers /
some concern / art is not content / art is experienced live /
artists are creators / there is no border / between writing or creating art
stillness / feel your heartbeat / connect / close your eyes / open your eyes
politics can’t be removed / truth of humanities / is art / live art
EPILOGUE Pearls, Joshua Serafin
Multiverse of being, part of nature, water.
A prayer of love, a longing for home.
To be queer is to live in revolution.
Connecting with ancestors, whirling,
dancing, singing in a language familiar to home.
The womb of the universe. The ocean’s tears and rage.
Agitation, frustration.
Speaking of colonial masters, the rape of the island.
To dance, evoking rage—dancing together, three siblings
towards liberation.
We chant lines over and over again: “in the middle of the sea /
go toward the sun / sink to the ends of the sea / she’s gone / vanishing away,”
uniting us in shared space.
Where are we now? Coming together to heal,
to find power in community. A whole-body experience.
The spirit rises like ocean waves, a radical retelling
of our bodies and language. The ocean is always home.
Pearls, Joshua Serafin, image by Manuel Vason
CURTAIN
ਵੱਸਦੀ ਕਲਾ ਹਰ ਜਗ੍ਹਾ ਹੈ, ਇਹ ਸਾਡੀ ਰੂਹ ਦੀ ਹੋਂਦ ਵਿੱਚ ਹੈ, ਬ੍ਰਹਿਮੰਡ, ਤਾਰੇ, ਲੋਕ, ਕੁਦਰਤ, ਹਰ ਜਗ੍ਹਾ ਹੈ ।
live art is everywhere, it is in our soul, the universe, stars, people, nature, everywhere.
Performances cited:
Common Salt, Sheila Ghelani & Sue Palmer
How Does It Feel?, Various Artists
Twine, Selina Thompson
Entenpfuhl, Alina Arshi
Live Art Writers Network, performingborders
Pearls, Joshua Serafin
Rupinder Kaur Waraich (she/her) is a multidisciplinary artist based in the West Midlands whose work encompasses poetry, writing, performance, and acting, with a focus on feminine narratives. Her practice delves into themes of the body, history, language, sexuality, and spirituality. Her debut poetry collection, Rooh (2018), was published by Verve Poetry Press, and her second collection is forthcoming from Seren Books in 2026. Waraich’s poetry and writing have been featured in a range of magazines and journals.
Rupinder has extensive experience devising theatre for companies across the Midlands. Her one-woman show, Imperfect, Perfect Woman, showcased at the Wolverhampton Literature Festival, while her short film, The Two Artists—which she co-wrote, produced and acted in—premiered at the UK Asian Film Festival in 2023. As a BBC New Creative, she created The Girls That Hide and Seek, a spoken word piece addressing gendered violence. She has also participated in artist residencies at JOYA Arte in Spain, Art House in Holland, and Preet Nagar in Panjab.
Her recent work integrates poetry, dance, and film, particularly in her performance art films Meeting Kali and The Search. A 2023 DYCP grant enabled her to further explore movement, dance, and poetry. Driven by curiosity and dedication, Rupinder continues to explore and create at the intersection of writing, film, and theatre. https://rupinderkw.com
LAWN is commissioned by performingborders, FIERCE Festival, Take Me Somewhere, CITEMOR, and METAL Culture, and it is supported with funds by Arts Council England and Necessity Fund.