dedications/ii/dream/version ~ by Clara Rudin Smith 

Clara Rudin Smith's "dedications/ii/dream/version" was presented before live audience at Centrale Fies, Dro, Italy on August 8, 2025 as one of 24 acts, (curated by Elisa Giuliani) at the occasion of the AEROPONIC ACTS 2025: CHOREIA (convened by Gabriëlle Schleijpen).

Here you will find an introduction by the presenter, video-documentation filmed by Baha Görkem Yalım and a written report by Grant Watson.The report includes a summary of the spoken, improvised comments by esteemed guest respondents Barby Asante, Sandi Hilal, and Zairong Xiang.

dedications/ii/dream/version

Clara's question: Will you wait?

Clara's intro: 

out of car windows/I was beautiful/every surface space/in which to work/to write releasing pressure/what happens to each wall/becomes irrelevant/- writing regardless/for I don’t care what/you spent/who you paid/when you dream/of perfect temperature

1.
time and time and time again
(a figure rides a bicycle)

2.
(arrives late)
a long poem/several poems/dedications

3.
EDN - Don’t Make Me Wait (dream version)
(a record plays us out)

Grant's report: 

The stage is empty apart from a microphone on a stand and a turntable. A figure on a bicycle rides onto the stage and around it in gradually decreasing circles, slowing in the middle then increasing speed. We can hear the sound of wheels on the boards, the changing gears, the breaks. The cyclist sits upright on the bike, then stops, dismounts, and leaving the bike on its side exists the stage. The artist walks up to the microphone in black trousers and a white T-shirt, arranges it at a good height, bends forward slightly, and without any introduction begins to read poems. These poems speak about aspirations, promises, relationships negotiated. Different locations are described including domestic interiors and the experience of moving through London on a bike. The artist walks away from the microphone stand carrying the mic on a lead, sits on the floor and says: I wanted to write a play. A voice offstage replies: you still can. In response the artist gives several reasons why this is not possible, but the invisible voice continues to encourage, speaking like a coach. There is a light display and the artist stands and thanks the audience for waiting thirty years. The text moves between monologue and poem. The images and allusions are disconnected, the words emerge as if collaged, but there is a rhythm to the voice and an energy in the delivery. Here and there fragments of a narrative emerge, something said to a particular person, a dream. The final line: one motor many rhythms, suggests a complex relationship between the speaker and the text. The artist puts a record on the turntable, speeds it up. Played backwards the words are garbled, but a chorus line emerges: don’t make me wait. The turntable and the bike are illuminated. The artist leaves the stage.

Barby Asante says that she found the writing great, that the artist might want to think about publishing as part of their practice. She thought there were beautiful reflective notes about trying to navigate relationships, and then the refrain - don't make me wait, reminded her of the disco track ‘don’t make me wait’ and of queer party history, and she felt the piece was making these links. She enjoyed the artists presence and how the elements of the work are at an experimental stage, and wonders if this might develop into a one person show, and if so, would there be music and how would poetry be presented? Barby wonders why it wasn’t the artist on the bike. Because so much of the performance centred around the artist. And the artist’s experience of cycling is mentioned in the poems. She suggests imagining the piece as music and thinking about how it builds. But notes that house music never builds, instead it gives a taster before it gets to the point. So the artist might think about that in terms of how they orchestrate a future performance.

Sandi Hilal says she was struggling with the bike being on the stage. She likes to see something we know from everyday life being put on stage, bringing daily practice into the theatre, but actually it did not evoke that much for her. It was a strong act but she was struggling with what it meant.  She was asking herself: why aren’t you intrigued? It felt similar in her mind to a circus.

Zairong Xiang thanks the artist for a beautiful and poetic work. He notes the management of how it was presented. First the bike, then the reciting of the poems which included great moments of humour delivered in a sarcastic way. He liked the light change, which set the mood for what came after but wasn’t sure about the loose ending because it wasn’t clear when the piece finished. But then he was convinced about not having closure and thought: OK I like it. He encourages the artist to go forward with this experimental approach but to make it more contained.