In a world where I do things half again as fast as I can blog them. . .the solution is clearly to do half as many things.

Busy, busy week!

• Holocaust Memorial cabaret show
• My first night dancing at one of the student clubs
• Rowing come-and-try!

...okay, maybe not as busy as I thought. Regardless, I'm going to separate the posts a bit. What the hell have I been doing with my time?
(answer: it's hidden under my bed, next to that forgotten pair of pants*)

First, the Holocaust Memorial cabaret.
Oh, good gods. This was a performance at the Lakeside Theatre (the on-campus venue); a collage-type work that featured five singers and a supporting band that included clarinet, violin, percussion, electro-acoustic guitar, and a keyboard synth. The actual material performed, however -- this is where the "collage-type" bit comes in.

The creators of this piece adapted and merged a slew of poems and short stories written by Holocaust survivors as well as one documentary featuring the same. The libretto provided to the audience included a few photographs of paintings done by Jewish artists as well as the words/lyrics for most of the concert. For certain pieces, images were projected onto the back of the stage.

Mind you, most anything about the Holocaust is going to be depressing. This wasn't depressing. It was soul-crushing. I broke down sobbing at one point -- overwhelmed. The singers alternated between singing and speaking styles, between anger, hope, sadness, fear, and apathy. One moment, a man was the hardened Jewish guard at the gas chambers: "This way for the showers. . .this way" (while the singers intoned "It's this way for the gas. . . ."). The next? Breaking down, sobbing. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't. I had to. Yes, we're survivors. Remind them what we did. Remind them how we cheated death.

And then -- they laughed, danced, whirled in circles, because how can you not be happy to be alive, to be free?

But how can you forget those who aren't?

The show was celebration and memorial all in one, perfectly fitting with that paradox.

To me, it's not so amazing that people survived the camps. Humans are adaptable, are at our core the most fierce of survivalists.

What is utterly fantastic to me is how anyone at all managed to make it out sane. Minds have shattered under less, gone completely and left rambling husks.

Remembering requires more strength.

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*Intentionally refusing to clarify whether I'm using American English or British English here. Have fun, kids!