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I wrote a review of My Barbarian’s performance of The Mother that was recently published by Women and Performance: A Journal of Feminist Theory.
Download it here if you’d like to read: Performing a new old left: My Barbarian’s The MotherRead more →
I’ve been working with some poems to find some songs for the past few years. I’m ready to release them/be released by them. They are dear songs, near songs, first songs, loss songs, lost songs. The words are not mine. Perhaps they’ll offer you something. You can download them for free:
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How to Live Together (A Pedagogical Reenactment)
April 6, 13, 20
Wednesdays | 7 – 9 PM
3 Sessions | $130 | RegisterIn 1976, French cultural critic and semiotician, Roland Barthes taught his first seminar at the Collège de France entitled How to Live Together. This course will reenact and reimagine Barthes’s seminar by using Barthes’s recently translated and published lecture notes as a syllabus and score. Over three sessions participants will read Barthes’s notes together, wonder about the concepts and concerns that fantasies of communal living bring to the fore, and take Barthes’s work as a formal and conceptual model for our own experimental critical writing about the question of “how to live together.”
Artist: Ethan Philbrick
Last fall I had the pleasure of going to one of Gordon Hall‘s performances (in collaboration with lots of lovely people). I felt/thought lots of things and decided to write with it. PAJ was kind enough to publish it.
“The performers moved through the court as if cruising for a provisional formal relation rather than a trick: cruising for a line, a shape, an object, a wall, a body, relation, an arrangement.”
Gordon Hall, STAND AND
Wood, hand-dyed fabric, pigmented joint compound, mosaic,
and off-site performance
Performers: Chris Domenick, Ariel Goldberg, Gordon Hall, Andrew Kachel,
Millie Kapp, Colin Self, Orlando Tirado
Performance duration 60 min. Sculpture dimensions: 66 x 36 x 77 in.
Part of the exhibition FLEX at Kent Fine Art, curated by Orlando Tirado
September 5-October 31, 2014
Performance took place on October 25th 2014, 2-3pm at the handball court
in Chelsea Park, New York
Image credit: Amy MillsRead more →
Last week I took to my grandmother’s car to travel around New England performing a night called “Required Reading.” I played songs and made people read poems. It was all quite pleasurable.
Here are some photos taken by John Sundling of the performance at Institute for American Art in Portland, ME
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Here is a little video of me performing an in-progress version of a song called “C.P. Cavafy” last week at a house show in Los Angeles. The song works with Cavafy’s poem “Chandelier” (translated by Daniel Mendelsohn) and this performance was illuminated by the glow of two people browsing and using their favorite sex + love apps (I believe Scruff and Tinder in this case). Many thanks to Laura Vitale, whose drawings will be featured in this project’s booklet, for opening up her apartment for the show.
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i’ve launched a kickstarter for the development of a new music project. take a look:Read more →
I wrote a piece in response to Taylor Mac’s “A 24-Decade History of Popular Music: 1900s-1950s” that Dan Fishback has been kind enough to post over at “The Helix Queer Performance Network.” Check it out.
Here’s a little excerpt:
3. History is exhausting
While Mac may not be attempting to be exhaustive, judy definitely strives toward the exhausting. Mac has a history of creating long performances. Prior to judy’s plan for a 24-hour/24-decade marathon performance art concert, Mac’s play “Lily’s Revenge” clocked in at around five hours. During the performance of 1900s-1920s at NYLA, judy justified this propensity for long durations by explaining that judy believes “something happens” when an event lasts longer than it is expected to—something else is opened up, another kind of attention or experience becomes possible. To perform three-hours of three-decades worth of popular music non-stop (let alone six-hours of six-decades worth, or 24-hours of 24-decades worth) is exhausting, for both audience and performers (although presumably especially for the performers). There is something of this exhaustion and duration in the act of historical thinking itself—history weighs on the body and strains the voice. Things break down, but perhaps they also break open.Read more →