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“I’m gonna show you my soul, there, the sole of my foot,” she says.
“…she says, as she faces her frontal plane towards your sagittal plane,” she says.
“I mean, Judson has left the building, right? Did I just say that?” she says.
I must be paraphrasing.
Jeanine Durning doesn’t weight any phrase more than any other in inging, and I wasn’t taking notes. (I am adamant that a person should not take notes during performance.) Rather, her stream-of-consciousness quite literally streams. We are riding the rapids.
In inging, Durning speaks, without stopping, without script, for roughly 30 minutes.
I first caught wind of inging, “part-spoken word performance, part reverie, part dance, part oral biography, part meditation and psychotherapy,” when Durning performed the work as part of American Realness in 2013. What caught my interest was the title.
inging; A more delightfully succinct description I can’t imagine. The language-based suffix that describes being “in the process of,” being the process itself. The word-equivalent of a Möbius strip.
Read the full article by Rennie McDougall at Culturebot.
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Originally published October 7th, 2015 at culturebot.org.
By Rennie McDougall
