Journal

A Crack In Everything Dec 2, 2011

by Eric Pitsenbarger

Balanced in a peculiar spot, with impressions of zoe/juniper from last year's AWARD show and the working knowledge of my seat mates I'm once again humbled and exhilarated by this mystery: I know next to nothing...and I like it that way! There's a tickle of magic I feel entering into the sanctum of OTBs; a supplicant vessel, empty and willing for the message and impressions to fill me up. I'm greedy because I know that just by sitting here I'll get what I came for and this time in particular, my proclivity towards abstract, dark and 'mysterious' performance will have my cup running over.

 

Case in point: if I had not read up on the process creation of ACIE, that focus is paid to that particular bubble of time between cause and effect (as was experienced personally by Zoe in a car accident and further rendered from the classic Greek tragedy: The Oresteia; the telling decision and consequence of continuing a blood feud. Agamemnon changing the traditional 'eye for an eye' to the wisdom of litigation), I would only have the nuanced formality and vague reference of metallic costume, gold filigree of wing-like raiment, the dark hooded 'shadow' that moves between and sometimes alters the abstract chess game of subjects moving through space, through the layered dimensions of special effect, pulling that blood red string with their mouths and illustrating for all I knew, the delicate moment of interaction between electrons.

 

The back story added for me the extra stylistic weight of historical potency. That zoe/juniper's choreography reflect the intentioned, direct placement of limbs (albeit in their patented, deconstructed amoeba-like writhing), symbolic of deep meaning to a greek chorus brought a visceral, delicious satisfaction. My attendance at the alter was complete. I felt like I had simultaneously traveled through the veil of time and space, way back to the moldy stone amphitheater and the shapely designs of well rehearsed historians, bringing with me my own well documented, festering doubts of indecision; god-like in my observance of what separates a thought from action and the wealth of time given to making another choice. Floating in the fluidity of the unexplainable vastness of life, the question of 'what if' and the continuing answer. Extraordinary.

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