“Scriptural Structure"

“Scriptural Structure”

by Donald Nally

We think about structure a lot. All of us. The shape of the day. The plating of a meal. The coffee table that works in the space. Hair. Gardens. Facades. 

In art-making, we get to indulge even further. Some say there is no art without structure. We could arguably say that about anything that is ‘a thing’ in the universe (as we know it). If it doesn’t have structure, it isn’t a thing. 

Still, the architecture of art – perhaps most obvious in the art of architecture – guides the performer, observer, listener through an experience. It gives conductors a reason to be. Defining the structure in real time, so that listeners can hear a linear performance with vertical divisions, breaking it down to periods that reflect grammar, is part of the reason I have a job: how to deliver a piece that is parsed in a way that makes sense on a first hearing. 

In choral music we have words, so the structure of those words is, most often, going to influence the structure of the music. (Not always, but we have to admit that a good portion of music that ignores the structure of the text is uninteresting to most listeners.)

So, structure in How to Survive: Suzanne’s script.

I call it a script instead of a libretto because there is literally (and literaturally) nothing about it that implies an operatic element, though there is much to consider theatrically. And we do!

Suzanne’s task was to create instructions on how to survive four natural disasters that are increasing in frequency. Disasters, as a topic, were her idea; she chose earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, and wildfires. And then she wrote scripts that follow similar, if not identical paths. 

My structurally-minded (somewhat organizationally obsessive?) mind set out to see how these compared. 

What she gave us is a beautiful invitation to hear how various composers approach similar ideas, identical phrases, subtle difference, nuanced uniqueness. 

Here is the basic structural outline of each Script:

STAY CALM (w/ introduction of the disaster – all))
EVACUATE (appears in 2 of 4) 
IF YOU ARE TRAPPED/INSIDE (all) 
IF YOU ARE IN BED (appears in 1 of 4) 
IF YOU ARE OUTSIDE (all)
IF YOU ARE DRIVING (all)
WHEN IT STOPS (appears in 3 of 4)
RECAPITULATION: STAY CALM (all) 

We begin with the fight or flight anxiety; STAY CALM.
The instruction is, obvious: “stay calm.”

If you find yourself in a wildfire, stay calm
If you stay calm you can think clearly
If you think clearly you can survive

There is something exceedingly colloquial about opening with a line dominated by anapests:

If you find
yourself
in a wild(fire)
Stay calm. 

It says, “talking basics here, no frills;” take down these few words and you’ll remember how to survive.

 The next section, EVACUATE, applies to only two of the disasters, Wildfire and Hurricane:

If you can evacuate when the wildfire comes, evacuate immediately

If you are told to evacuate when the hurricane comes, evacuate immediately. 

Note the very subtle difference between ‘choice’ in the case of wildfire (if you can) and direction in the case of hurricane (if you are told to). Do we rely on the government for hurricane guidance than wildfire assistance? I suppose we do! At any rate, our EVACUATE section doesn’t give us much detail; given the choice, take it. Period. (Don’t sit and think about it. Move!)

So, first STAY CALM, then EVACUATE, and then a series of “what if” scenes:

TRAPPED/INSIDE
IN BED
OUTSIDE 
DRIVING 
AFTERWARD

Interestingly, all four disasters are appointed instructions in the case of DRIVING, while only one is tells what to do if we’re in bed when it strikes: earthquake. A logical decision, since in our age of media and meteorologists, the disasters in this list that would take us totally by surprise is an earthquake. Still, it’s interesting to think that we’re more likely driving when dealing with a disaster than in bed. 

If you are in bed when the earthquake comes, stay in bed, protect your head and neck

Sound advice. Now, forever etched in my musical memory.  

All of Suzanne’s scripts address action points for what to do if INSIDE, but Wildfire is given particular weight in this category as those caught in Wildfires (as opposed to the others) are not just inside; they are presumed to be trapped. While only three of the Earthquake instructions for those inside reference begin trapped, all the Wildfire ‘inside’ instructions begin in that predicament.

If you are trapped inside when the wildfire comes, remain inside
If you are trapped inside, turn on the lights, so firefighters can see inside more easily
If you are trapped inside, unlock your doors, so firefighters can get inside more easily
If you are trapped inside, close all windows and doors, close all vents, turn off the air conditioning
If you are trapped inside, remove all curtains from the windows
If you are trapped inside, stay away from exterior walls
If you are trapped inside, fill sinks and tubs with water

All four ‘inside’ instructions share the opening directive: “remain inside.” But, among Suzanne’s scripts, one could argue that Wildfire is treated as the most stressful, requiring the most detail. Indeed, being trapped inside is afforded three more lines than any other cause across the four How to Survive scripts. 

In the case of being OUTSIDE Suzanne’s script, through inclusion and omission, notes these similarities: 

Wildfire
If you are outside, find a gully, ditch or low spot, and lie flat
Tornado
If you are outside, find a gully, ditch or low spot, and lie flat

Tornado
If you are outside, stay away from cars, trees and power lines
If you are outside, drop to the ground, protect your head and neck
Earthquake
If you are outside when the earthquake comes, stay away from buildings, trees and power lines
If you are outside, drop to the ground, protect your head and neck

How does this ‘rule’ apply to the other scenarios? Looking back at INSIDE, we see that all but Wildfire share the same survival note: 

If you are inside, stay away from windows and glass

There are many shared lines that our composers have sunk into to find what meaning lies within the meter of the prose. Among my favorites is the initial DRIVING instruction – the first thing to remember in that case – directed at those caught in Tornadoes, Earthquakes and Wildfires (but, notably, not Hurricanes). It is a delight of metric feet:

If you are driving when the tornado comes, 
pull over to the side of the road, 
away from other cars, trees and power lines

trochee / iamb / iamb / iamb / anapest (note that the opening three syllables feel like a dactyl)
iamb / iamb / iamb / anapest
iamb / iamb / bacchius / iamb / iamb 

(the bacchius is two consecutive stressed syllables following a weak one; it feels like a change is coming, like an end of a sentence) 

The meter nearly begs for musical setting. 
Trippingly, as Shakespeare says.
We read it and wonder, will the musical action meet the word, the word the action, as Hamlet commands to the players?

The answer, for you, personally, will lie in the live show, which is in fact not live at all, and not a show. Rather, it is a seamless loop of disaster instructions set to music, with the idea that, if we hang around our exhibition for a little while, the catchy tunes will put this survival text in our brain for good. 

It runs from November 20 through January 3 at the Fabric Workshop and Museum, Wednesdays through Sundays. Accounting for holidays, that’s exactly 30 days and nearly 160 hours we can spend memorizing the tunes that could lead to our survival. But there’s more to do in that time; 

Consider the structure of our project: 
of the scripts,
of the musical works,
of the costumes,
of the films, 
of the arrangement of each frame in the films, 
of the layout in the gallery, 
of the museum as a whole,
of the placement of the museum on Arch Street,
of the location of Arch Street in Philadelphia’s grid, 
of Philadelphia in Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania in the United State, the United States in North America, North America on the planet Earth.

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