blue

what is performance?

day before the performance and I’m still nursing an old dance injury

its strange, i had felt it coming for weeks and then walking too many hills, it just said enough is enough i guess

so with public sector workers out on strike – good for them, and unable to go along and show my solidarity i’m moaning on here instead and trying to ‘rest’..!

however, having some enforced stillness – relatively – with two sons at home, one of which is a teenager, finding myself landing in a place getting ready, preparing to show my work to others… it is a good space, waiting, collecting..

Interesting debate at highbridge studios last week re performance, after i showed some bits from an old videopiece of pina bauschs ‘lament of the empress’ from 1989. people debating what is performance, what is artiface, what is acting and what is live art?… some very healthy questions but i was I naively shocked at some peoples understanding and ideas around this subject. it just goes to show…. it made do some more research on the subject though and find lots more definitions.

luckily i hung all the text on Monday, so just got the performance now: ‘blue’ – tomorrow Friday 1st July at 7.30pm, first floor highbridge studios newcastle upon tyne – for any one who wants to come along, with informal discussion and refresments after!

Reluctant to hear the birds

the seagulls today.

pinpricks of other stories

rivets of tension

where do i sit?

where do i sit?

suspended blue

vulnerable and dispossessed

spiralling portals of air

the river feeds us

ambulance to the rescue

sink into the earth

be held

be comforted

woman in a dress

see the early morning sunshine and shadows on the floor for a change. Photograghing chair in the sun – me, in a silouette in the window, another shadow.

I sit for a while, hanging over the chair. Feeling my head and neck release. even my tongue rests better in my palette….I begin moving, rocking the chair, against the floor. a rhythm. re-visit my slow walking motif – transferring the weight through my feet, rocking forward and back. one step forward two back. I slowly travel down the space. I settle. Leading with a different foot, I explore turning in my hip toward the blue and feel the wind from the window inviting a different response

colour flies out the window

wind lifts the blue

heating system footsteps

clouds linger

memories of the rag trade

the seagulls talk about it

we dont listen

still girders hold vigil