A small group of adults enter the room and take their seats. They are all in their performance uniforms with the "No Words Spoken" logo emblazoned on their chests. True to their name, none of these performers say anything upon their entrance. Nor do they acknowledge the crowd that has come to listen to their performance. They take their seats, and within a few seconds, a few of them begin to rock back and forth with eyes fixed forward on some unknown focal point. Those who aren't rocking, are just looking; not so much outward but inward. Perhaps gazing at vivid mental pictures that can be seen only in one's mind. We all day dream, but the look on these faces tell us that these guys have made a talent of it.



Then the music starts. The rocking stops. Sort of. The gazing stops. Again, sort of. From here, the focal point has shifted from somewhere out there to precisely here: The moment. Now these performers are fixated on the African drums and other percussion instruments in front of them. Their hands are synchronized, and yet, if you look in their faces you don't get the impression that their synchronicity is from listening to each other, as is the case for typical musicians. Repetition is fundamental to both music and Autism. Consequently, the synchronicity these performers enjoy is singularly intrinsic to each person. They are, quite literally, dancing to their own drum. Knowing this changes the experience of hearing their music.

No Words Spoken began under the premise that the motion sensory qualities that are native to Autism are actually hidden talents when applied to the performing arts. Like most artists who struggle to be understood by society, these hidden talents are a bridge for connecting with a society that is still mostly unaware about the finer details of the Autism Spectrum. More importantly No Words Spoken was created to serve the needs of the person with Autism. The need for repetition. The need to move. The need for tactile stimulation. And, despite the self-centered term that is "Autism", the need to be engaged with the community.

Autism is etymologically rooted in the Greek word "Autos" meaning "Self. The word was coined because of the seemingly disinterest that Autistic children have in others. However, this doesn't mean that a person with Autism is not aware that we are watching and listening. In fact, many of the performers of No Words Spoken seem to delight in the approval they receive by their audience. Sure, some react as if they could care less. Others head straight for the snack bar, brushing past everybody, the very moment the performance is finished. But other members such as John Giangreco, Glenn Martin and Neil Sanders will engage the audience – if the audience will engage them. Of course, don't expect either of these men to engage you in the conventional manner. No formal bows here. Glenn might jump up and down energetically. John might walk up to you and bring to your attention a triviality that is completely off topic. Neil will throw his arms behind his back and make an announcement that, like John, is trivial and off topic. It doesn't stop there. Neil will then pace the room swinging his massive arms to and fro while still making his off topic announcement. Again, dancing to a different drum. If you want, you can consider this the encore.

What an encore it is. The Western New York Community continues to re-open its door, inviting these drummers back for return performances. From corporate welcoming lobby's to museum and gallery showrooms, No Words Spoken has brought its own style of music to well over a dozen venues in the area. Not bad considering how it all started. What began as a Day Program has grown into a traveling ensemble that provides the musical experience – and autism awareness – we all need.