The view is divided by screens and mirrors in Jane Jerardi‘s delicate hold. Fragmentation by the frame creates incomplete views of arms and torsos, close and deliberate. You hear the squeak of the pencil, the rustle of paper—a voiceover, separated from the person dancing in the grass, says, “How can I expand my box?”
Kato again, teaching a Muppet-esque puppet how to say “excuse me” in Japanese, Spence Warren speaking poetry on the street, a remarkably present duet with Nora Sharp bridging Brooklyn and Chicago at Links Hall’s 96 Hours Festival.
This is a year of loss.
This is a year of small comforts: warm tea, hot baths, houseplants, sunlight.
Words and Shout-outs from Others:
“Anyone who kept people dancing all year at home, in parks, in class, in virtual workshops!—kept spirits up, offered a movement practice, a processing, a regular place and ‘space’ to be with, without any product or goals.”—Erin Kilmurray
