Main Character Syndrome
If performance is an intersection between the realness of live embodiment and the fantastical suspension of reality, then this is true performance.
If performance is an intersection between the realness of live embodiment and the fantastical suspension of reality, then this is true performance.
I put my arms around the dry branches, sunk my face between the needles. I remembered holding you like this before you left. I remembered when we did this without thinking.
Paper. A tongue? A face? Hands, elbows, emerging body parts. Two bodies. Questions. Who are they to each other? Will they ever come out from behind the semi-translucent wall? Conceal and reveal. Discovery. Peekaboo, peep show, peeling back wrapping paper; pulling the curtain open in a stranger’s house to see a familiar smile.
A catalyst, a deep breath together, a gathering.
Fact and fiction, inseparable, blur and tease. Cut to disco ball, still swinging. Slow down and watch the air sparkle.
Created and performed by Holly Sass and Jonathan Matthews / BREAKTIME
And then, time reversed itself.
Black Dance Stories is exactly what it sounds like and precisely what we need right now. It’s a distillation of insightful moments in post-performance talkbacks spliced with casual conversations you once shared over drinks, plus powerful sentiments you’re overhearing now at BLM protests.
Black Dance Stories is exactly what it sounds like and precisely what we need right now. It’s a distillation of insightful moments in post-performance talkbacks spliced with casual conversations you once shared over drinks, plus powerful sentiments you’re overhearing now at BLM protests.
Re-examining the words these artists shared with me about the show on March 7, I was struck by the resonance of their work in the liminal fever dream that is our current reality. At this uncanny remove of time and location, the pieces swelled with meaning. The three soloists dealt with the limitations of their bodies, examining rituals and scores and diagnoses.
This body unfurls in slow motion, leaving ample space for labels, classifications, and archetypes to land upon her and vanish.
I start to explain something about artistic agency over visual archives of original work but all that comes out is I guess we’re all in trouble.