SAVE ME BOOK PURCHASE ONLINE

Here's a link to where you can buy a copy of our recent publication Save Me: A Conversation Across The City
It is also on Sale in the Arnolfini Bookshop (Bristol) and will be distributed by cornerhouse to various galleries and shops

http://www.cornerhouse.org/bookstore/product/save-me-a-conversation-across-the-city

Save Me Book Cover

Here's a sneaky peek at the cover of our Save Me book.

Save Me: A Conversation Across the City - Book Launch

Save Me: A Conversation Across the City - Book Launch

Save Me Book Contributions

As you may know we are working towards a book of Save Me, both as a reflection of our 11-day performance during Mayfest, but also, as a continuation of our exploration of distance, separation and struggled conversations. 

 An integral part of the original 11-day project was the participation of bystanders who wrote of their own sense of separation and what they would like to say to people they are apart from.  As a continuation of that, we are looking for people who could take their own ideas on this subject a little further. 

 We are looking for people to reflect upon an instance or an event that really brings to light feelings of separation and the struggles loved-ones have in keeping in contact over distance.  This could be an event or a circumstance that is very personal to you, or it could be a story of others that resonates or/and moves you.  We are inviting a few people to write about this in any way they like, at any length they like: it could be fifty words or several hundred – whatever it is, we will do our very best to include it in our book. 

We have a very tight deadline and want to try and gather these by next Monday 19th September, really can be something very small but we are interested in the idea of having other voices in the book. 

 Do let us know whether you feel able to contribute….. jodie@searchpartyperformance.org.uk

Book Launch at Arnolfini, Bristol 

Saturday 22nd October 2011 6.30pm

http://www.arnolfini.org.uk/whatson/live/details/1066

Search Party vs Launceston

Save Me

Perched on top of a 1.5m high platform on Pero's bridge I can be seen from many places. Squinting across St Augustine's reach, Jodie can see me as she waves her flags from atop a similar platform on the fountain steps. I can be seen from the water that separates us, from the boats in their moorings, from the cobbled pathways, from beneath the trees and from windows of buildings on either side of Bristol's floating harbour.

The people on the boats wave as they pass under the bridge; they can see me. The saxophone player plays and the Big Issue seller sells; they can see me. The drinkers in the bars, the cyclists, the tourists, the walkers, the strollers, the parents with their pushchairs and their children; they can all see me. They haven't come here to see me, not in the first instance. They've not read the programme or browsed the website or scrolled down the mail out. They see me because they were coming here anyway, they were always going to be here, they don't just happen to stroll past – it is me and Jodie and our flags that are the happenstance, not them. We are on their patch, their turf, this is their bridge, their fountains, on their route; this is their territory.

But the over 11 days of the performance something changes. In the eyes of everyone who can see me, my flag waving on Pero's bridge, at first an oddity becomes familiar. It is this process of familiarisation; from being outsider in another's territory to becoming a part of the landscape that excites me.

It's a simple thing we're doing – talking with flags. But we're here everyday, same time, same place and perhaps it is in the repeated dipping in and out of the project that makes it seem like something bigger – a part of the furniture. And of course this is an illusion, two hours a day for 11 consecutive days is no shallow undertaking, but next to the enduring permanence of this stretch of water it is a drop in the ocean. An illusion, but a convincing one because when so suddenly we are gone there is a gap, something has changed – like when the trees lining St Augustine's Reach have been too severely pollarded, providing more light and less shade, this place feels different. Or when thousands of amateur runners are plodding round St Augustine's parade, inspired or irritated by Heart FM's cheerful pop classics, this place feels different. Like the pruned trees and the sweaty runners, us flag wavers reshape this place, in a way that is perhaps best measured by the moment of our absence.