Everything Moves

"When we think of 'the commons,' we think of the collective commons of the air, the earth, water... but what if we consider the commons of the collective imagination?" -Amy Russell, The School of Embodied Poetics

FLWRS by Szalt

FLWRS by Szalt was like an I.V. to my soul, and I didn’t even know I was thirsty. With no knowledge of the show before hand, I found myself gutted by the performers and sideswiped by their stunning virtuosity. Days later, I feel giddy having experienced such fruitional mastery. With no words, five women create such an irrepressible vocabulary of space and body, that FLWRS speaks tomes.

FLWRS breathes itself as a panoply of what it means to experience the world in a woman’s body. Yet, thankfully, I never during the course of the performance found myself thinking “this is about something.” My ideas and concepts were never able to get ahead of the sheer delight of raw experience as I surrendered to the spaces created by the dancers’ bodies. Grasshopper dominatrix. Adolescent shame. Solidarity. Threat. Perk. Play. Delight. Death. Insanity. Unison. Flickers and shimmies and scurries and sprawls. Power. Chorus. Solo. Dream.

Only days after, still reeling with raw inspiration and gratitude for witnessing the range of what is possible with this human body, do I consider the aboutness of FLWRS. Szalt creates a space that is refreshing, supportive, strong, and important. As Trump eviscerates Machado. As Hillary smiles dutifully. As grandmothers die and nieces hit puberty. As aspirants lean in, as victims speak out. As my wife hugs me on her way to bed and I feel the shape and the weight of her body. Which for a decade has loved my body. Ever changing, definitely aging, yet ever capable of lightness, flight, and ageless play.

Thank you Szalt.

And congratulations to all who made the Live Arts Exchange/LAX such a joy.


FLWRS, by Szalt. Photo from http://www.stephaniezaletel.com/f-l-w-r-s.html

FLWRS, by Szalt. Photo from http://www.stephaniezaletel.com/f-l-w-r-s.html