Let Go And ‘Play’ (A NoPro Adventure)
LA’s Silent PLAY Experiment gets us back to basics
I hadn’t read the memo.
This is something I’m getting bad at: reading instructions. For one, there’s just too much damn information. Too much noise. At this point I get something on the order of 300 emails a day through various channels. Plus social media. And texting. And. And. And.
Somewhere during the course of each day my brain just goes on “tilt,” and woe betide the immersive experience that manages to send me an email with explicit instructions outside the operating hours of my brain.
I arrived a few minutes early at the undisclosed location for the Silent PLAY Experiment, as is my custom. I knew the way there. In fact I was highly familiar with the space, and was looking forward to seeing what — if anything — they’d choose to transform. As the tale is told, the non-profit company Play had been doing these events for some time on LA’s west side, but this was their first foray downtown. I was cautiously curious, wondering just how “structured” the structured play would be.
Was this going to be just a series of improv games or something else entirely? Would they do a good job of integrating a bunch of strangers? Or was everyone else going to know each other?
This was some serious first day of kindergarten stress… or at least as much of it as I could recall after coughcoughcough years. I should probably get that looked at.
I was the first to arrive, but the others came. Each dressed in black. First one. Then two more. Then more and more. All in black.
Clearly I hadn’t read the memo. Luckily I always wear black.
First hurdle cleared.
Once we entered the space and found our names on the check-in sheet it was silent time. I was handed a sheet of instructions and an ice chip. The instructions told me where to put my shoes and phone and that when the chip had finished melting I was to climb a little staircase and drop down a hole into another mindset entirely.
Which is what I did: crawling on all fours through a sheet fort like tunnel and into the first of three play spaces. (Note: I would kill for like 150% more blanket tunnels. Elon Musk should consider that instead of drilling under the west side.)
The evening is divided into two main chunks: self-guided and group play. Roughly the first third was self-guided, and Hamilton’s team have left out a variety of — well, toys, really. Paints, both of the “art” and “face” variety. An old typewriter on which to try one’s hand at collaborative storytelling. Boxes with odd objects and noisemakers. Helium filled balloons with creative injunctions tied to the tops of the string. A piano.
No rules, but a few guidelines here and there to further exploration.
I must confess: since I came alone and was feeling introverted that night I wound up burning through the toys rather quickly. Without the ability to say “Hi” — this was all silent, after all — the wall between strangers felt rather thick. I found a boomerang and used it for a hat: sitting down in a corner and adopting a meditative posture. The others we having fun playing with the friends they had brought. The first day of school vibes got stronger.
The shift to group activity was a blessing, and soon the anxiety of being the “new kid” melted away like the ice chip had. A blur of copycat games, drawing, charades, and yes: improv games made the next hour pass in a delightful blur.
It was the silence that did it, I think. Taking away the voice made it easier for the adult persona to drop. Whatever roles the collected might fill outside the magic circle of the play space might have major differences of social status, but inside that circle we were united by our willingness to just let go.
Let go and arrive.
As students of the immersive arts we chase moments of presence as if we were mining for gold. Always looking for the techniques and technology that will help us put aside our daily personas and suspend our disbelief. Here, assembled with a light grasp, are some of the most primal of those techniques. Familiar to each of us, awaiting only the permission of others — and ourselves — for their power to be unleashed.
When I stepped back out of the space that night I felt like I’d been realigned somewhat. Reminded that the sense of presence was always just a sidestep away. A sure tonic for toxic times.
The Silent Play Experiment has been extended for another weekend. It is at an undisclosed location in Downtown Los Angeles. Tickets are $50 for one and $45 for two or more. Be smart. Bring that friend.
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Contact Level: Familial (Group activities)
Content Advisories: None
