Fellow national curators (myself included) would recognize when our own limitations of history/age/privilege were a barrier and step aside to let others more aligned with an artist or project take over. In this landscape, talented younger artists and curators would receive effective, thoughtful mentorship and training, while those more seasoned would acknowledge and draw inspiration from the energy and ideas of next-generation curators.
What if we define values, principles, and methodologies, resisting the pressure to define outcomes? What if we focus on what drives us and on how we want to live and work together, but leave the imagination open to the concrete shapes our collaboration can take?
Duse’s superpower: her capacity to disappear, leaving only her plaster hands as evidence that she was a material presence in the world. Disappearance. Reproduction. She knew the theatrical drill.
Without the assistance of chaos, Nedorazliva might never have come to be.
The play begins / The play does not begin.
like where did every like body go?
The extravagance of these small fragments and minor aesthetic details are not wasteful, but beautiful. Think trans girl with diminutive ambition, sufficient amuse-bouche, endless caress, depressive, but comfortable, reparative when she leaks a little, and juvenile with a crush.
Maybe these letters and numbers help me imagine a catastrophic snowfall in Shelby County, KY, or the action in Correspondence. But really the numbers aren’t for me. They’re for my laptop.
The more I travel this story with them, the more and more familiar it becomes; more and more a part of my imagination, and less and less what it was when I encountered it.
A plastic theatre is deathless, staticky, sticky, silent. It is scary and strangely safe. Creepy and clinical but also ubiquitous.