Journal

The Shit is FRESH Jun 12, 2016

by Jessica Jobaris

How to belong, how to betray, how do we say what we say when we say

Kaktus Kolache
Saturated film reference, angsty jest, and "Can I understand this way of life?"
How much distraction do we need, want, desire, reject?
Community bound by food, families and history are bound by recipes, and Coley gave me a Psychedlia of being-ness.
Her howling made me happy and fed, and connected to. Next time, can we sing a long?

Allie Hankins + Rachhel Dichter
Mucho appreciation for a post modern-postmodernists-modernismists......I hunkered into what I perceived as ultimate feminism.. that is as subtle as it is NOT.  A silent scream in your eyes for an understanding, and developing that continues into a bravery.  The tempted presence in all of us...how do we take them in, and see back to them.  Mysterious, annoying, bewildering, heavy and painful....the politics of the body inescapable, as well as the loneliness.

Ilvs Strauss
It wasn't just comedic timing and a gesture that can hold  the answer for us, but the revealing that we all analyze and defend the terrible one. Ilvs' work  creates space for Life, capital L, encouraging us to ask the hard questions... into the territory colored gray....in the meanwhile, there is this strength and  "okay-ness" so you can continue on your days knowing you are alive, mistakes and all, and its slightly funny how much we fumble.

Britt Karthoff
Performance of setting up is not as interesting as just setting it up.  I needed no affectation, as pedestrianism relies on the value of simplicity.  A virtual unfolding of years perhaps? Revealing understanding in colorful burst, and an inner fullness that is almost a secret.  I don't know how, nor why, but I am moved, and that is the gift of this work, this performer. The ending is as it began. Rolling it all up...something happened inside that space, we just can't see it...but we can feel and remember it.

Avidon/Bryant 
Confesssional theater is normally kinda tacky..but here, we are resting together in the best way. The distinction of love, without sentimentality.  The kind that says DNA stories pass on, and technology both saves us and betrays. The possibility of honesty: how life really is on the inside. Fuck you FaceBook! Thank you FaceBook! You help us catalogue Life's transitional moments, You punctuation mark and emoji our days!. We still hunger for real connection...the kind that comes in letters ...the lost form of connection. The lost form of vulnerability. I will go write a letter now, or sing a song about my heartache. Thank you. 

Goodman
The rich and gorgeous movement and performance, how is it such expression in the body can leave me both cared for in some moments and alienated in others?  What's my problem with dance? The mystery of meaning....we are here together..I wish the bow...the vulnerability and truthfulness in the expression on her face in her bow..I wish that were part of the performance... it was beautiful and strange and we just went with it.

Sleep Nod
The body says for us, what we don't know we are yet asking....a gift of its confusion.  I sensed absurdity and I found myself thinking "dance...stop hiding!"  How does lush dancing, and bold choreography allow us connection the to witness/audience?  We are here to keep a sense of togetherness, or... are we? Just let some things be simply somethings... and eventually.....despite ourselves....we do get old.

Au Collective
Bewildering, surprises intact, knock out architecture and choreography, and lines lines lines...  Moments of "oh shit let me catch up with these moves...and meanings!"  The enjoyment of watching the dance, the dance the DANCE!  Breathing while wondering if this can get a lot more edgy,..a bit held back. An internal softness growing in the end of the work..this idea that... ya know......life is tough, but life is good. It is because of togetherness we matter.
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