Five Questions with Annika Vestel
I like to provoke an internal movement in the audience, something where their inner life or fantasy is activated.
All posts by Audrey Moyce
Singlet’s Whole World: Audrey Moyce Responds
Though their insular world went weird, and quickly, I was there, because they were there. Davis and Markey have the attunement to one another that only comes from a sustained exposure to the other’s way of standing, talking, moving, being-in-the-world.
SEAGULLMACHINE: Less Hiccup, More Smash?
When I hear that two pieces have been “smashed together,” I make certain assumptions. If I read “conceived by” or “created by the ensemble,” I expect a piece so thoroughly picked apart and put back together, it barely recognizes the original source material. At the
Moth&Flame: Audrey Moyce Responds
Suggestions of timeless spaces, Miss-Julie-ish rage, and as I knew from the program, taking up issues of sexual violence.
Symphonie Fantastique’s 20th Anniversary
“Nothing happening,” I wrote in a heavy slant down the page, “but I can’t look away.”
AT HOME WITH THE HUMORLESS BASTARD
Wilson says to the container, “Well fuck you,” then to us, “Get ready to run if this explodes, I guess.”
The First, Second, and Third Premiere of HANJO at Japan Society
It’s difficult to write about the show you love.
Confused Amid TOYS
Audrey Moyce responds to TOYS: A DARK FAIRY TALE at 59E59.
PANIC EVERYTHING’S FINE offers catastrophe and coping mechanisms
You could call it an exploration of the butterfly effect on a schizophrenic scale.
Midsummer Mayhem at A.R.T./New York
The bits of conversation that don’t quite work suggest a weirder reality lying under the normalcy we see, a reality which seems to bubble more and more to the surface as the day wears on.
Peeling Apart A Blood Orange
A Blood Orange traffics in confusion, doubles, echoes and muffled voices.
Machinalia – a response
Assaulted by sound. A noisescape that experientially presented embodied anxiety. Mic stand dialogue, alienating and surprisingly all the more evocative for it. Shit hanging from the ceiling. A donut that somehow is both a murder weapon and the patriarchy itself? A potato that is both