Today was our first site visit to the home of Asuka Hisa and her family in
Victoria Park, Los Angeles.
Starting this rehearsal period marks the end of homeLA's third year and our
15th performance process. This occasion has me reflecting on the last few
years in questions and a collection of words.
How do people live differently in Los Angeles?
How do we share space?
How do we experience centrality in our creative practice, communities,
families, homes, city?
How does an intimate performance environment relate to human empathy?
Below are a few images from today and references that have felt related to
aspects of the homeLA project in the past.
[image: Inline image 1]
From William Goyen, House of Breath (1950) shared with me by Emily Marchand:
"That people could come into the world in a place they could not at first
even name and had never known before; and that out of a nameless and
unknown place they could grow and move around in it until its name they
knew and called with love, and called it HOME, and put roots there and love
others there; so that whenever they left this place they would sing
homesick songs about it and write poems of yearning for it, like a lover.."
[image: Inline image 2]
Asuka Hisa, Bernard Brown, Libby Buchanan, Melisa Dougherty, Terrence Luke
Johnson, Sarah Prinz, Daniel J. Rosenberg, Samara Kaplan, Margot Moss
From Rebecca Solnit (2006) and Stefan Kürten's book, Inside Out:
Maybe it's important to make a distinction between what gets called
materialism and what real materialism might be. By materialistic we usually
mean one who engages in craving, hoarding, collecting, accumulating with an
eye to stockpiling wealth or status. There might be another kind of
materialism that is simply a deep pleasure in materials, in the gleam of
water as well as silver, the sparkle of dew as well as diamonds, an
enthusiasm for the peonies that will crumple in a week as well as the
painting of peonies that will last. This passion for the tangible might not
be so possessive, since the pleasure is so widely available, much of it is
ephemeral, and some of it is cheap, or free as clouds. Then too, the
hoarding removes the objects--the Degas drawing, the diamond necklace--to
the vault where they are suppressed from feeding anyone's senses.
One of the top ninety-nine peculiarities about houses and homes is that
they are both: real estate speculation and sanctuary. Artists have a
different relation to the material, since after all the main animosity to
the realm of substances and solid objects is that they distract from the
life of the mind or spirit, but it's the job of artists to find out how
materials and images speak, to make the mute material world come to life,
and this too undoes the divide. Words of gold, of paint, of velvet, of
steel, the speaking shapes and signs that we learn to read, the
intelligence of objects set free to communicate and to teach us that all
[image: Inline image 3]
Emily Marchand, Melisa Dougherty, Sarah Prinz, Daniel J. Rosenberg, Zac
Monday, Bernard Brown, Libby Buchanan, Terrence Luke Johnson and the light.
photo: Asuka Hisa
Yo-Yo Ma and performance as hospitality: OnBeing Podcast
Here we go!
dance in private space open to the public