Jumping Lullaby
visades i utställningen New Maternalisms, kurerad av Natalie Loveless, producerad av FADO performance art centre i Toronto, 2012.
Detta minne är performancens startpunkt:
Min dotter skriker. Hon skriker, skriker och skriker. Klockan är snart två på natten, men hon vill inte, kan inte, sova. Jag känner skriket i min kropp. Hennes förtvivlan är min förtvivlan: somna, somna , somna! Den enda som kan få henne att somna är jag -och det enda som hjälper är att hoppa upp och ner -hoppa och sjunga- sjunga och hoppa. Ibland räcker det med några minuter, ofta handlar det om timmar av skrik där tiden tänjs ut i ett hoppande och sjungande utan slut. Ibland ser jag mig själv i en förbipasserandes blick genom fönstret. -Den bisarra bilden av en kvinna som står och hoppar upp och ner och skriker vaggsånger mitt i natten. Men förr eller senare somnar ju barnet, hennes kropp blir lugn mot min kropp. Varm, tung, lugn efter striden sover hon. Nyss var jag själv nära att gråta, nyss var jag själv nära att tappa tålamodet, att börja skrika och kasta henne ifrån mig. Men jag gjorde inte det. Jag hoppade och sjöng, sjöng och hoppade och tillslut somnade hon. Lyckan väller in och kärleken. Hon lever och sover här hos mig, min älskade dotter.
I Jumping Lullaby kommer skriken från 24 väckarklockor som jag vyschar och sjunger vaggvisor för.
Jumping Lullaby
was shown in the exhibition New Maternalisms, curated by Natalie Loveless, produced by FADO performance art centre in Toronto, 2012.
Point of departure for the performance is this memory:
My daughter is crying. She is crying, crying and crying. It´s almost two in the morning, but she can’t find sleep. I feel the scream in my body. Her despair is my desperation: go to sleep now, go to sleep, go to sleep! The only one who can help her is me, and the only thing that helps is to jump up and down -jump and sing -sing and jump. Sometimes a couple of minutes are enough; more often it takes hours. The time felt is without end, a session of singing and jumping stretched into eternity.
Sometimes I see myself in the eyes of a stranger passing my window. – The image of a half-crazed woman jumping up and down, shouting lullabies in the middle of the night… But eventually the child does goes to sleep, her body calming down against mine. Warm, heavy and quiet after the battle she sleeps. A while ago I was almost crying myself, on the verge of losing my composure, to start screaming and throw her away from me. But I did not do that. I jumped and sang, sang and jumped, and eventually she fell asleep. Happiness wells up, and love. She lives and sleeps here with me, my beloved daughter.
Sometimes I see myself in the eyes of a stranger passing my window. – The image of a half-crazed woman jumping up and down, shouting lullabies in the middle of the night… But eventually the child does goes to sleep, her body calming down against mine. Warm, heavy and quiet after the battle she sleeps. A while ago I was almost crying myself, on the verge of losing my composure, to start screaming and throw her away from me. But I did not do that. I jumped and sang, sang and jumped, and eventually she fell asleep. Happiness wells up, and love. She lives and sleeps here with me, my beloved daughter.
In Jumping Lullaby the screams are coming from 24 alarm clock´s that I am singing lullabys for trying to make them come to rest.
