Relations, associations, reverberations…

I’ve got the clinging remnants of a head cold and it’s making me a mite detached this weekend both from people and the work I see. I know this and am trying to compensate for it by extra degrees of receptivity but it doesn’t always work, I guess. I was even asked by someone lovely if I was being aloof and distant (later switched to arrogant) for any particular reason, but no. Also I’m a tad anxious about a bit of curating I’m doing, the results of which will be seen imminently in London. I maybe oughta ask Wendy Houstoun about curating – her tips on same, or her experience of it,  just as someone else lovely did to me the other week. Passing on knowledge born of experience…

ENOUGH ABOUT ME (a pitfall of blogging, perhaps?) but not really, alas, especially given that all criticism – indeed, all responses to anything we see, do or say – is ultimately to some degree or other autobiographical. (Thank you, Max Wyman, for that sterling notion as published some years ago now in Animated, the mag of the Foundation for Community Dance.)

Anyway, I dreamt – and this relates to The Dream Teller, the one-to-one performances Louise Wallinger is doing even as I write this and for which I did nada to secure a place, tch – of floating on a pillow near the coast and in the canals of a foreign country, and I knew  soon as I emerged from the familiar arms of Morpheus that this watery dream location was a vestige of my having seen Hugo Glendinning‘s unstill the night before last at Juncture’s launch at The Tetley. My subconscious materialised its version of some of the locations he beamed onto the gallery walls and slipped me directly inside. I may well carry this mental feeling as I float through the day…

And now to write about my complicated and kinda conflicted responses to yesterday’s work…

Blog , , ,

Your Comments

Rate this event by clicking a star below :