Throwing a stone in a lake

This is the picture I now have of when a performer enters a stage. The actor/dancer doesn't need to appeal to provoke a change in the audience. And with no transformation of the stage or the audience there's no meaning for the presence of the performance. It's waste of time for both sides. If the performer is the rain, wind or fire, it doesn't matter how gorgeous his movements are, if there's no transformation of the environment, there's no value. Butoh is therefore constituted of a dance which everyone can dance - the difficulty of the movement and the sophistication of the choreography aren't important. Although there's charisma involved - this is more difficult to understand if you are born with it or you can grow it somehow, I haven't made my mind yet about that. Kazuo Ohno, definitely, has charisma. On today’s class, Tadashi was telling us a story about the celebration of Ohno's 100 years old: In Tokyo, many Butoh dancers were gathered together (also with other stiles' dancers, friends of his) in 1997. Each one of the performers did a small performance for him; it was a very emotional reunion. At the last part of the show Kazuo was brought to the stage on his wheel chair by his son where all performers were, a collective performance started happening, and he... slept ;-) Kazuo Ohno slept on stage during the performance. Suddenly, after a moment, before he wakes up he moved his fingers, one technician put a song - all audience was perplex by the sublime performance Ohno was doing. I can picture in my head how beautiful only a small movement, on the right time, with the right music could be. And everyone was affected. Remember about the stone and the lake? Kazuo Ohno was a stone, he almost didn't change himself, but around him were reverberating waves among the other performers and the public. After today’s exercises I have pain…