Being 20 at Now 18

Similar to the previous weeks performance, I knew very little about the Now 18 acts and what to expect. From my research prior, it seemed like it an independent festival hosting a variety of different smaller performances in London's East End. With a very scarce background in theatre, I went into this performance basically blind. The greatest thrill of the night was getting to the venue. I exited from the Overground train to what seemed like an industrial, currently developing, not yet ready to be lived in city. What do I know, I'm new here! I walked up the dimly lit street, through construction, and past graffiti strewn buildings, finally arriving to the venue. After taking my seat in what seemed like an abandoned warehouse, Stacy Makishi began her monologue. At first I was confused, then I caught on, only to be confused again. I'd never experienced a piece like this. I didn't love the forced group exhale or the intimacy of the performance at first. I was uncomfortable with her dramatic introduction and direct interaction with the audience...again, I'm new to this. Since my only experiences with theatre are main stage productions and productions friends have been in, the intimacy of live art was striking. As the actress threw herself down on the ground in agony, I felt a sort of emotional vulnerability that I hadn't been forced to encounter in a while. The piece touched upon raw despair that I am a little all too familiar with--the fear of loss is an all encompassing one. Her anecdote about her younger male friend and his grandmother hit too close to home. While I recognized the performers commentary on religion and sexuality, what stuck with me most was the feeling of extreme discomfort throughout the entire performance. I'm not sure if this was intentional or if her creation just happened to resonate with me on a personal level. I felt a sense of relief when the final gong rang, but was left with a lingering feeling of dis-ease. This art piece reminded me of my mortality, and my own emotional struggles with intimacy and loss. It brought about the intense feelings of love and loss that I experienced so harshly at age 20; every year of life for that matter. Stacey Makishi brought mortality and human suffering into the light, and while I wish I didn't have to experience it so closely, her performance was well done and displayed a sort of real human emotion I had never seen scripted. Eye, heart, and tear-duct opening.