Friday, June 28, 2013

Like So Much Lost Time by Erin Parsch

 
 
A lone stool in a spot light. A small cloud of fog drifts across  the scene, eances the dreamy atmosphere. A wistful dream unfolds.
 
 
 
She floats in like an apparition to the stool, her shoulders and arms painted white, matching the white mask which is on the top of her skull like a hat, not yet a facial disguise.
 
 
She orbits the simple, three legged chair to a languid, ballad-like instrumental track, the fog gradually clearing. The stool becomes a prop, then an apparatus to the dance as her body contorts, coils then stretches.
 
 
 
The movements are elegant, always fluid but they shift from a preternatural hover to very physical and human, gyration, graceful, smooth, followed by a strained pose. The tendons and muscles in her well toned back and arms,, visible, apparent, rippling beneath her skin.  You could almost see her pulse from across the room.  All too human indeed, then it’s back to a more ethereal physicality.
 
 
 
 
Erin Parsch is a dancer, visual artist and performance artist, whose website is here.

;
 
 


 
 
 
Like So Much Lost Time was a performance dance piece featured at Fish With Braids, whose gallery space will be closing imminently. A rare but not uncommon performance art work at this space, a former warehouse, has a nice urban feel, shadowy light and painted over brick walls. The humanity of the artist seemed emphasized in this repurposed vestige of our industrial past.

 


 
The slow, moody dance – modern but accented with ballet flourishes – had a whiff of tragedy. The title -- Like So Much Lost Time – evokes a feeling of regret. At the conclusion of the piece, the dancer slips the mask over her face, which I took as symbolizing death. The inevitability of our shared mortality underscores the sorrow when we realize the reality of time. Lost time is lost forever. Lost time is not found again. What moment isn’t fleeting?  All we can really know is our own mortality. She sits on the stool and waits. Eventually only the stool remains.

 
 Website: Erin Parsch
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


No comments:

Post a Comment