My family had the chance to be part of something pretty cool today.
A British artist’s collective called Station House Opera set up a 2.5-kilometre trail of concrete dominoes.
Eight thousand (!) dominoes, each one about two feet high and weighing 18 pounds, made their way in a winding trail from a downtown neighbourhood, through streets, parks, a restaurant, someone’s house, down a hill, under a highway, until the last one fell into the lake.
But since following the dominoes the whole way wasn’t possible, the experience of being there was mostly one of anticipation.
We got to our chosen spot a good half-hour early, and it was already bustling with people. Our viewpoint was great; underneath the highway where the dominoes would make their way up a spiral tower until one domino at the very top tumbled down to trigger another, before the chain reaction continued towards its ultimate destination.
To our left, we looked up a steep hill towards a permanent sculpture of a canoe perched on the edge, with dominoes set up right to the canoe’s bow. This would be where our first glimpse of the event would come from.
The first domino was set to be pushed over at 4:30, a full 2km from where we stood. It would take nearly fifteen minutes for the tumbling to reach us, and as 4:30 became 4:35 became, 4:40, the building excitement was palpable. Phones started popping up above people’s heads, all pointed towards the canoe.
Like New Year’s Eve, we knew that some people, unseen to us, had already experienced the excitement that we were about to experience. There was an undercurrent of civic excitement like when the local team wins the championship. There was the understanding that you were about to see something fleeting yet rare and special, like last spring’s eclipse.
Finally, a rush of excitement could be heard over the hill, and we saw the dominoes topple right over the edge of the canoe as planned. A few moments later the reaction reached us, climbed up the twisting tower, and was soon on its way out of sight.
Even though the trail was most definitely finite, something about viewing it in the way we did made it seem endless. Which – finally – brings us to this week’s song: “Continuum 3” from Endlessness by Nala Sinephro.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. The five-note arpeggios give a sense of continuous momentum.
2. As the song approaches two minutes, a fluttering organ enters, climbing an invisible twisting tower, completely oblivious to the time signature suggested by the arpeggios.
3. After a brief swell, it fades away out of sight.
Recommended listening activity:
Standing in a river and feeling infinite.