You know the truly great thing about a performance piece? You don’t actually need a reason for it. At all. People will insert their own meaning, so as long as it’s entertaining to watch, you just feel free to go nuts. One girl from my former dance troupe climbed on top of Flinders Street Station and live-streamed herself- using a drone- for three days dancing on a huge stack of posters of Heating Grid IV: It’s Getting Hot in Here. I think it was a protest against how live performance is scorned in favour of vapid modern entertainment, but…that could just be my interpretation.
Dancers are obviously very competitive, so I’m making a statement…about hyperbaric oxygen therapy. Melbourne will not know what hit it, once I get going. Is it a statement about why we need oxygen chambers in our lives? A subtle nudge towards a world in which too many people need oxygen chambers, indicating that I think we all need to improve our cardiovascular health? Or am I making a solid statement against hyperbaric chambers, for some strange reason?
No one can say for sure, because I myself cannot say for sure. I’ll do an interpretative dance, guided by my soul, right in the middle of Federation Square and inside a giant inflated plastic bubble made to look like an oversized hyperbaric chamber, with all the little knobs and tanks and everything.
Yep, just gonna set up, in full view of everyone, put on some music, step inside my big bubble and dance. No matter who stops and watches, you can know for sure that I’ll be making a lush and powerful statement on the state of portable hyperbaric chambers sold in Melbourne and the place they have in our lives.
What place do they have in our lives? You decide, as you want me flail my arms about in a giant plastic bubble.
I love art.