SIAN CLARKE - AN AWKWARD EXCUSE If you think that your life consists solely of intricate events and idiosyncrasies, think again. Your life consists of patterns, uniform and humdrum. From the moment you wake up till the moment you go to sleep each caveat of your day is deeply rooted in routine. Don’t worry the attention isn’t just on you, it’s for all to share. This notion is succinctly poised in Sian Clarke’s “Two’s a Crowd” performance of “An Awkward Excuse.” On the weekend of the 6th of February, hosted at the modest Rag Factory in Brick Lane, Clarke stood vulnerable in her underwear. The brushing of teeth grated on the silence that filled the room. The gargling of spit and toothpaste further insulted the lull and tittering from the audience followed. It is between the silence and the audio to our everyday where the humour exists, from the inane waiting around for the sound of the kettle to the bristles against our teeth. Clarke visualized her obsession with routine through surrounding herself with mundane objects: a clothes rail, a kettle as well as signage from the underground. These processes when highlighted in a setting that isn’t the habitual, invoked drollness and a sense of relatable frustration with the inner workings of the modern world. Using minute details such as pedestrian and vehicle etiquette, Clarke enables the audience to share her frustrations with the everyday and more
importantly those who encroach on her rituals. It is the interruptions to routines that allow the humour to surface. For example she loathes cyclists because they aren’t sure whether they are vehicles or a pedestrians, “you are the sole reason why I cant cross the road in peace,” she bemoans. The standout proviso of the performance was the daydream platform. Clarke steals a coffee and shatters the daily routine of bypassing the queue. She daydreams at allocated intervals during work and unknowingly agrees to associate work-based commitments. At the same time Clarke is to busy day dreaming what it might be like to put her hand in the deep fat fryer and watch her hand fry and eat “pork scratching” like flesh, “you don’t get many opportunities to eat yourself and how you could be a vegetarian after that?” she expressed. The final act consists of immersion and participation on behalf of the audience; she has also used this technique on the street. Clarke provokes the audience to assess whether they are attention seekers and when they reply she gives them a large balloon with phrases such as “I am not attention seeking,” this way she can use gentle provocation to beckon those out of their locked routines. To make them stop and review and ask: Is this the way I want to live? And of course this message then spills out on to the street when the balloon is taken outside.