Spoilers for White Death - if you are planning to play the game at any point then you shouldn't read this.
There is a fascination with life and death and what lies in between. A fascination with the difference between victory or defeat, between defiance and giving in. White Death, a black box larp written by Nina Runa Essendrop and Simon Steen Hansen, and hosted by James Harper explores these themes in an abstract, dreamlike way.
The concept of the game is loosely about a group of human settlers who are attempting to build a mountain community. Their human existence is difficult and desperate. This was represented by the fact that no verbal (or nonverbal signed) communication was allowed, by movement restrictions (mine was to walk like a marionette with strings on my legs, arms and wrists. We were also assigned arbitrary likes and dislikes (mine being ‘I envy people with a different hair colour than mine).We were also assigned allies and enemies and quickly made additional ones when the game started. The ‘human’ side of the larp took place in the light, the lit upside of a black room.
We had the ‘resources’ of balloons, which represented ideas, dessicated coconut which represented survival and white paper which represented faith. They appeared in a spotlight in the dark side of the room and we had to cross over to get them.
An interesting thing I have noted is often in non verbal larps items quickly become a method of communicating, either a currency (an exchange of one for another), a way of forming an alliance (giving something of yours away), or a status symbol (taking as much from other people as you can.) If you get immersed in the game these actions can become really meaningful. When someone replaced something that had been taken from me with something of their own it felt like a really intimate moment.
Non verbal larps are strange. Unlike the verbal freeform larps I’ve played there is no clearly defined character beyond a few descriptors. In the silence everything becomes more immediate and you become part yourself, part someone else. Perhaps the person you would've been, perhaps the person you wished you had the strength to be. I don’t think that’s quite right either though. My character was protective of the other settlers, trying to stop fights and comfort people who hurt. But she was also scared of the unknown.
During the second half of the game a human stepped out into the darkness and transformed into a white one, a being full of joy, a being which could be an angel, a spirit, simply snow or maybe a bit of all three. After that there were four snowstorms which were the only times the white ones become visible. During that time they could stand at the edge where the light and darkness connected and reach out for humans to join them. And my character (me?) was trying to hold people back, trying to bribe, or scare or physically prevent them from going somewhere where she only knew that they would not return from. This started as instinct although we knew, although we had been prepped in advance to know the people who were going were ‘going somewhere better’. Perhaps there was something within me that was repelled at the thought, that the symbolic crossing over and becoming angels was death. And perhaps this is where the defiance came in for me, that I didn't want people to go willingly for something uncertain. Or perhaps it was something in the character I created, who was trying to make peace and keep the community together. Whatever the reason, despite my best efforts everyone managed to cross apart from 4 of us by the time that the last storm arrived. Two of the people had definitely held out due to their own choices but one was, due to imposed limitations, was physically stuck to another and so may not have had much choice in the matter!
In the final storm we all had to cross. I was the last to go, this time trying to ensure the others crossed safely (and completely forgetting the physical limitations that I had in the process.) Then when I turned to cross there were a wave of hands reaching out for me which actually made me feel a bit emotional and accepted.
And on the other side there were bubbles and everyone was dancing. You were supposed to be the carefree element of light and air and I did feel lighter, like it was easier to drop my inhibitions and just move with pure joy. On this side there wasn't even a pretence at playing a character but you weren’t playing yourself either. You were playing a being who was somehow both greater and lesser than you had been.
It was a thought provoking larp with surprisingly emotional moments. It also played very interestingly with the nature of who we were and who we were playing. There was knowledge that our characters didn't have although Jamie, the organiser made a point of saying that it was fine to let go of the scenario and play however you preferred. I suspect there was a spectrum of attitudes there and I fell somewhere in the middle. I suspect some people tried to make sense of their restrictions and preference and created a fully rounded human character from it. I expect some people just played as themselves or did whatever seemed interesting in the moment. And I suspect some people, like me were caught between playing someone else and being themselves. And maybe understanding and reflecting on your actions as yourself is what enables you to explore the themes of the game and their meaning to you freely.
