Andre Guedes is an artist from Lisbon.
He asked me to adapt a letter into a performance text.

The letter was originally a request to all tenents of the Bluecoat prior to refurbishment
which Andre found during his research in the organisation’s archive.

We kept the sinister and threatening undertones of the text,
transfering them into a more personal setting.

The result is an original and quite enigmatic text.

This is a technique I have used in other written work since,
including the adaptation of the Noah’s Ark story for film.

Equinox was performed by a dance pupil in Summer 2009
where the text was also available to take away.

We also adapted the artwork for an exhibition at Lost Soul and Stranger Service station,
showing it alongside a crushed brick from a ‘lost wing’ of the Bluecoat.


Here is the text:

Dear John,

I have to write this letter. I just do. Last night, we went out to the lake and threw stones into the black slick. We’re going to do it. Our fortunes have become distorted for now, and they will be obliterated completely before they are reassembled as anything a duck can land on. Of course, I said we should leave you be for a while, until January at least. But that’s the end. I won’t see you again after that, even if I want to.

Plans and preparations need to be made so we can get rid of you quickly and without too much fuss. Perhaps you can drop hints that you are too sad to carry on. Then all that’s left is to make sure you’re calm, and that you don’t ruin anything. It’s funny really – we will be the ones ruining something. But you can’t ruin that. Just make sure you take your stuff.

Dan has another place. I don’t know if I trust him so hurry and be quiet about it.

There is more news. This, too, will not come as news to you. There are meetings on these evenings, where you can speak and ask questions. I don’t know what you would ask. Maybe that could be your first question! I’m sorry, it’s horrible really. But perhaps it will clear your throat of the feeling of sickness.


O, what a strange shape those disjointed days make.

Anyway, there will be the newspaper articles as well, saying that you have gone away. It’s part of our duty, we think. That will make it clear locally, at least, that you aren’t involved in anything.

Meantime there’s going to be a reading or a series of readings for us all, held by some of the boys. There are people that you like to speak with, even after all this. Maybe someone will sing.