I’m glad to see you back, I thought you were gone forever
Samuel Beckett has given us a great many things. A framework to cope with desolation; a language to contain loneliness; beautiful, endless sentences that speak of the spellbinding state of confusion and existential crisis that exists when logic fails. A reminder that in our powerlessness and sense of nowhere there is the strength of human endeavour and infinite human emotion that is at once tragic and gracious. Somewhere in the space created by this lack of certainty and paradoxical knowledge that we could be great is our decision; 'I can't go on, I'll go on' a statement of determination or resignation, filled equally with sadness and promise, equal parts courage and fear.
I see nothing, there’s no lack of void
Clare Henderson’s work continues to be informed by a quest to find where the soul lies. It is a difficult quest, without the benefit of science or the guidance of religious belief, relying instead on what is to be found in the primal motives of grief and kindness and nurture; In the comfort she finds in unsophisticated invention and in the reassurance found in unbridled concern.
I’ll carry you, if necessary
It is easy to see how the works of Beckett, like Paul Auster and Buster Keaton would have such a profound effect on such a quest, too. United by a sense of beauty in the damned, in the solid structure of the human soul in a seemingly uncontrollable reality, that despite of our individual sense of fragility, we all leave our mark; be it in shadow, or lingering voice, we, like Vladimir and Estragon, do not move.