Through a choreography that mixes touch, twerking, and other dance and poetic genres, Sveta Grigorjeva’s most recent performance defies gender and ethnic prejudices by inviting the audience to imagine a world without wars.
Assembled in New York City in the early 1990s, the maverick queer collective Blacklips Performance Cult reunited earlier this year at the University of Southern California to relive their experimental theatre, music, and artistic productions.
By highlighting the mass fatigue that typifies daily life and pervasive burnout culture, Franke reminds us that disassociation can also be a form of productive refusal.
Rather than presenting an exoticized “mirage of authenticity,” Lionel Popkin’s artworks and performances offer only a fragmented picture of what is normally presented to western audiences in tight focus.
Indebted to male-dominated sports like football, Senegalese Laamb wrestling, and Queimada, a Brazilian version of dodgeball, Coumba Samba’s performance ascribes value and meaning not only to the action or performing bodies themselves, but to what, or who, is left behind.
Accompanying improvised actions with personal anecdotes, Aki Sasamoto’s performance suggests that one does not exist in isolation but is intimately tied to those around them.
Will you take action when you see someone in danger or in need? Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley’s artworks confront our collective inaction in a world that enacts violence towards Black and Brown Trans bodies.
The (Famous) Squatting Dance subverts a colonial gaze that sees “authenticity” as locked in the past and experimental contemporary performers as “rule breakers” of tradition rather than the progenitors of future cultures.
Dive into the artist’s underwater world with playful and inquisitive characters inspired by aquatic creatures like the strange and singular sand dollar.
Enter a dark terrestrial abyss with artist Joshua Serafin.
Kellian Delice reworks a national anthem and its ideologies.
Critiquing exploitative expectations of labor, the artist facilitates a collective call for rest.
Oil is both mechanical and spiritual substance in Canseco’s hypnotic performance.
A sensual creature emanating a siren-like chant, accompanied by piano strokes coming from atop the stage-cum-temple, made her way across the open dance floor, which doubled as an ephemeral cabaret and sacrificial site.
Krumping might not be performance art, but there is wisdom to be drawn from the analogy.
Guadalupe reclaims what she calls “the primary African community” and pointed out that in that community they are considered “elderly,” in the sense that they acquired wisdom in life.