I had just been on Alcatraz this summer and genuinely had not expected to go back for a very long time, if ever, but suddenly there I was on a ferry Thursday evening on my way to attend the first evening of We Players' weekend-long symposium on justice and freedom. The Players have been staging events on Alcatraz for the last three years (I'm still chastising myself for missing their production of Hamlet there last fall), and this symposium wrapped up their time on the island with a series of performances, discussions, and art installations. On this particular evening things kicked off with a jaw-dropping dance performance that literally used the entire main cell block as its canvas, and then we moved up into the old prison hospital for a blues jam intermission complete with a variety of cozy beverages. Finally we ended up on the parade ground in the wind-whipped dark, and with the lights of the city winking and blinking behind them two dancers clad head-to-toe in protective suits spun baskets of live coals and hailed down the spirits amidst the flying sparks. I felt nothing short of pure searing catharsis.
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