Cathy Gordon chose a perfect day to get divorced.
For Gordon’s interdisciplinary eight-hour-long performance piece On My Knees,
the theatre artist embarked on a heavily documented journey to crawl
across Toronto to the waterfront in a wedding dress as a public divorce
ceremony. Her project begged the question: if there’s a community
ceremony for union, why is there no similar way to mark the dissolution
of a marriage?
Throughout the day, Gordon moved through many arts-positive
neighbourhoods — Kensington Market, Queen West, Parkdale. Each location
held significance, from an initial ritual at Exile (divorce as a
cultural stigma for failure) to The Theatre Centre (exploration of
life’s drama) to an unnamed beach (entering the unknown).
Gordon’s divorce ceremony modified wedding traditions. Both Gordon’s
wedding and divorce ceremonies commenced with donning the dress and
arranging her hair, while attended by close female friends (what is the
divorce-equivalent of a bridesmaid?). Gordon accessorized with
kneepads, handpads, audio equipment, a sun visor and running shoes. The
safety gear shifted the aesthetic tone from beauty to caution, as
bandages and heavy-duty sports pads complemented the sequins and lace
were.
A bridesmaid cut five inches off Gordon’s hair in a quick, efficient
gesture. Its severity and commitment signaled a fresh start.
On My Knees also included reversal of tradition — from burning unread divorce vows with her ex-husband, Steve Marsh,
to dancing an improvised solo to a “divorce song.” Gordon’s dance
occurred after four hours of crawling; she rolled and dragged her body
across the floor at The Gladstone Hotel. While dancing in a dress that
significantly impeded full range of movement, she kept time with her
hand or hit beats with changes in direction. At one point, she sat legs
splayed in a ‘V’ as she opened her arm to ballet’s second position, a
symbolic gesture conjuring a girl’s broken wedding dream but also an
embrace of her current situation.
The public art performance continued to unveil new rituals specific
to divorce. Her choice to crawl to the water addressed endurance and
rebirth. To mirror eight married years, Gordon crawled for eight hours.
Crawling is instinctual, a way to slow down time. The performance
featured many crawling styles — one elegant and Victorian in its
wrist-flicks and leg extensions, another painful to witness as she
tottered upright, balanced on her knees. The performance started with a
fast crawl, a succinct and tight scurry; bridesmaids held up her train
so it wouldn’t tangle in her legs. Later, her crawl shifted to
undulating, elongated loping that allowed Gordon to stretch her legs
and arms, filling her muscles with space and air.
A bridesmaid swept the sidewalk as Gordon crawled, removing dirt and
glass from her path. The repetition of each stroke, its shushing, kept
time for the procession. The broom was as carefully chosen as all of
Gordon’s props — this one with a white handle and red bristles to match
Gordon’s dress and knee pads.
Gordon’s final honoring ritual featured Reiki and Thai massage. When
it concluded, her attendants removed Gordon’s safety gear and dress, an
intimate reversal of wedding preparation. Gordon’s knees were
blistered. Nude, she walked slowly into Lake Ontario, up to her waist,
and dove in.
The bravery of this project lies in its invitation to the public to
witness a significant and often-hushed life event, to identify Gordon’s
personal struggle as emblematic of many people’s struggles to move
forward with their lives post-break. The concept urges a much-needed
public dialogue around cultural attitudes to divorce. That Gordon and
her team had the strength to see this sizeable ceremony through so
thoroughly is a testament to their maturity as arts creators and
community facilitators.
Brilliant and deeply impacting, On My Knees deserves the highest praise.
The performance included a web component so that On My Knees
could be experienced virtually; video clips are available at
www.cathygordon.com.
With files from Ciara Adams.