Experimental & Performance Art

Mulunesh, a Black woman in a thick, hooded raincoat, stands crookedly with her weight shifted over one foot. Her arms are lifted out from her sides and her hands are in fists. She is lit with harsh, bright lights, and boxed in on three sides with heavy transparent plastic. Behind her, a sheet of white marley and two red cables dangle limply, as if caught mid collapse. The floor beneath her feet, made of the same white marley, is spotted with piles of black paper confetti.
Photo: Bas de Brouwer
  • thINKpieces

Decomposing Mediation: On FRANK

Writings from tD's Emerging Writer's Fellowship

A group of dancers move together in a clump holding toilet plungers, some of which are donning messy black wigs or flightlights-as-eyes.
Photo: Jenna Maslechko
  • Interviews

By the Way, You Can Laugh

Rachel DeForrest Repinz

Brian Golden on disability, play, and humor as access.

Three performers stand in a triangle in Studio 34. The camera blurs the background and focuses on their upper torsos and faces. The two dancers in backwear jeans and t-shirts; one laughs and the other holds a serious expression, bracing for impact. Together, they support the front dancer’s hips and shoulders. This third performer looks expectantly forward for the shove of another performer not in the photo.
Photo: Rachel Warriner
  • Interviews

Resistance and Art-Making: ‘Dancing Collective Power’

Zoe Farnsworth

Integrating improvisational dance skills into direct action protest

Anh Vo performing at The Rail Park, an outdoor space. Three dancers stand with their backs toward the observer, looking toward a blue and white modern-style building. They stand on a concrete edge, with the chalked words "FORM IS A FEELING" sketched across the platform.
Photo: Albert Yee, Courtesy of Asian Arts Initiative
  • thINKpieces

The Assurance of the Ecstatic: On Anh Vo’s Three Performances

Mang Su

Being possessed is not a state but a devotion.

A composite still from Pajarillo, Como No Voy A Llorar? (Little Birdy, How Could I Not Cry). Travieso stands naked on concrete in front of an abstract gray digital background. With eyes closed, she holds a large black satin fabric that billows out to her left. Covering her body is an image of a large bird-like creature fallen on the ground in a desert landscape, with a child and adult looking on.
Photo: Yara Travieso
  • Interviews

Inside/Out Protest: Embodied Liberation with Yara Travieso

ankita

Softening into tender resistance and honest disobedience with NYC-based Cuban-Venezuelan artist Yara Travieso.