Findings. Editor: Anjum Katyal
I suppose it began with hunger. Straitjacketed into a narrow seat in the dark well of a hall which turns the familiar proscenium face of the all-too-well-known beloved towards me, one waits, again, for the leap of surprise, for the gasp of wonder, for the sigh of satisfaction, for the magic that grabs and shakes one alive, out of the dulling rote of the everyday. Or seduces one into a journey, far from the route of the everyday. And one leaves unsatisfied. The hunger gnaws. Somewhere just outside the field ofvision, somewhere just beyond the groping imagination, somewhere in the depths of things read/seen/felt/touched lies an answer. But not here. No, not here. So. ‘My eyes . . . return to seeing what I remember’ . . .(Ralph Lemon). And the seed of this issue is sown. Magic of memory. The image. The idea. What is dramatic. What becomes theatrical, what even becomes theatre. Where we look, what we mine, where we root and dig and what we find. Above all, what we find. Why this, not that? Sometimes the sheer rhythm, the timing, the silence, the words not spoken. Sometimes the light and the way it moves or makes us remember the possibilities of the way it moves. Sometimes the knockout breathgasping visual. Sometimes a soft nudge, sporing memories and images. And always, the knowledge that this is not all. There is always more. Down that road, on that shelf, in that corner, outside that window. Always one more nugget of magical creativity to break and make one anew. Finding(s). Both the noun and the verb. Both the journey and the stops along the way. Is what this issue is about.