Life Happens...A Performance Retrospect

Life happens and when it does other things seem to fall by the wayside. I've been interlocked and shell shocked...forced kicking and screaming down an emotional roller coaster, but every step of the way, art and performance has managed to maintain its centripetal force in my atmosphere, weaving in and out of my perceptions and how I experience the world. Even now, I'm wrestling with the nagging voices of writing etiquette, linguistic protocol and time-sensitivity, but if I've learned something these past months of loss, it's that few things matter (I mean REALLY matter). Submitting to the nags and naysayers (right now) isn't one of them. My blog, my rules. Life happens. It ebbs and flows and with it I've decided to wrap myself in a blanket of self-care and move with the current. This will be less a review and more a reflective, retrospective. I came across thoughts and impressions about two works I never got around to posting, so I'm doing it now.

Memory Withholdings | Ghost Memory

Love | Fortè, a collective (April 2014)
Not quite a year ago, Love|Fortè, a collected presented Memory Withholdings at BAX | Brooklyn Arts Exchange. I recently found my impressions about this beautiful evening. 

Memory ghost, haunting                                   We’re not really here, we are ghosts in their world

         ting memories-pictures, mirrors suspended       White powder—white face covers black face

Another dimension                   Collective audience experience although different

Ill fitting dresses, worn rags, shhhh!

Bottles...holding corn, cotton, unknown         Baking soda, fine, soft, smell, incense, earthy, herbal

Material commerce                      Gasps that try to escape

I love you

We transfer into another space....

There is a festival around food
Nia dancing in soil, earth                          Marjani dances loosely (a little too loosely) with a knife
Aroma, hearty beans

Join them at the table... the audience helps cut food

TASTES GOOOOOD.... You put your foot in 'dat


Childlike-Don’t cross em’ feet


Broken plates create a new circle

Info outside the circle goes in...drop memories into the pot to cook

Smell the aroma of our memories, they escape into the air

Images project onto the skin, nature branches, sharp broken edges, jutting across the soft contours of the face.

This was an enchantingly haunted evening filled with spirits, ancestors, community, and the aroma of delicious food. I excited to see what these women have in store next.

More about the show HERE

Roadside Attraction | Outdoor Space Is Magical 

Third Rail Project (June 2014)

I made a trip to Governor's Island to see a sneak peak of Third Rail Project's Roadside Attraction. The movement tells a standard narrative. Nuclear family. Father, mother,  daughter, and daughter + boyfriend, functionally dysfunctional at best, seeping with nostalgia, camping, and a forced yet surprisingly fun family trip.

The wife is ignored, misunderstood. One daughter is anxious, smothered, while the other goes along mostly unnoticed. Male bonding happens over fishing lines, bait, and a tackle box. There is an omnipresent redhead. She seems to be a visual representation of the mother/wife's consciousness (a haunting spirit that does and says what the wife cannot or will not). While the narrative unfolded into a familiar place, the site took my imagination on a different was simply enchanting. Outdoor space is magical.

Passerbys fall in and out of scene, becoming unknowing contributors of the camping landscape. One small child actually walked up to the camper and stood in the scene for a significant amount of time. Someone who appeared to be his guardian nervously beckoned him from the side, but he was more interested in the dancers who gently moved around him without breaking character.

The show was tucked away on the southeast corner of Nolan Park on Governor's Island, and although we found ourselves in a nontraditional performance space, people quickly fell into traditional proscenium roles. Quiet, stationary, static. I challenged myself to walk around the space to see movement from different angles. Between eating snacks on a terry cloth blanket and feeling the warmth of the sun as each scene unfolded in front of me, I bathed in the freedom...wiggling my bare feet through the cold blades of grass.

See video footage HERE

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