The first time I went to Panoply Performance Lab, it certainly wasn't what I expected. Since then I've learned its not what you expect; but what you've never seen and what you don't expect.
There was a tingle in the bleak-forsty air, on the darkened street of Mesrole, as got to the door. Minutes after my arrival Anais Heraud was out the door an on the sidewalk, gathering the remnants of nature for her strange work.
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| Anais Heraud |
EstheR [one of the founders & directors of the lab] took the stage, gave the word, and we were outside where Miss Heraud had begun. She looked as solemn as the street was silent, her make-shift flags hanging still despite the wind. Gracefully she gathered them, marched inside and we followed.
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| Anais Heraud |
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| Anais Heraud |
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| Anais Heraud |
The black plastic bags filled with snow an tied, lay on the ground like cadavers at a morgue. Taking chunks of clay she rolled them in dirt, stood up and hurled them at the walls [or handed them to others to do the same].
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| Anais Heraud |
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| EstheR Neff (left), Anais Heraud (on the right) |
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| Anais Heraud |
After unwrapping the black bags & vandalizing them [with spray-paint], she unwrapped jugs/vases stuck to the walls with clay, forcing them at an angle so the water inside fell to the floor. Through ceremony Miss Heraud had used force, vandalism, a firm touch and in a sense violence, to embody elements of nature & man.
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| Anais Heraud |
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| Anais Heraud |
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| Anais Heraud |
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| Samuel Burhoe |
As Samuel Burhoe took the stage, with a length of rope, there was only a garbage can, and a standard size container of iodized salt. He jumped-rope the way people do for exercise and children do for play, struggling just a bit. At the sight of this the audience seemed a bit confused, others bored.
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| Samuel Burhoe |
When he brought out the ladder, we all saw what he was doing but weren't prepared for the shock. Bit by bit he took it all off, and we took it all in; awash, aghast, amazed, amused, not knowing what to feel. To me Burhoe seemed to be professing an aspect(s) of human nature & life.
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| Samuel Burhoe |
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| Samuel Burhoe |
The pointless nature of the shock generation, and the yet the fearlessness of it. An almost child-like outlook in the face of utter seriousness and all attempts at control. The shocking sight of an overgrown human, trying to get clean with sand [or maybe salt] in a very clean garbage can. And yet, there was something utterly beautiful, moving, and touching about the vulgar simplicity of it.
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Samuel Burhoe
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| Samuel Burhoe |
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| Ivy Castellanos |
Before that night I had already heard of Ivy Castellanos, though never seen one of her performances. She came through the front door with a large cylindric object on her shoulder like a mini-ninja lumber-jack. There was something powerful, dangerous, and alluring about her.
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| Ivy Castellanos |
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| Ivy Castellanos |
She went to work cutting into the object like a hot knife through butter, an urban variation of Kali. She made holes, sliced through, clarified by confusing as the crowd watched on - uneasy, unknowing, and possibly outraged.
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| Ivy Castellanos |
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| Ivy Castellanos |
Miss Castellanos forced herself inside like a virus and cut her way out; a process of metamorphosis that resulted in the objects destruction [a phallic symbol?]. Was what she did a modern metaphor? The joy of violent spectacle? Creation through destruction which doesn't result in something permanent, but only momentary.
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| Ivy Castellanos |
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| Ivy Castellanos |
If you would like to know more, go to:http://www.ivycastellanos.com, http://anaisheraud.com, or:https://vimeo.com/milespflanz, or:www.facebook.com/panoplylab?hc_location=event_guest. "Art is the reason, art is the way"
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