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Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

Corpus Festival at EMPAC modeled belonging in friction.

Yanira Castro gathered us around a table of divine food prepared by Ria Ibrahim of Soul Fire Farm to articulate, and with Taína Asili, to *sing*the histories of this land, as told by Yiyi Mendoza, Jude Abu Zaineh, and María Firmino-Castillo. We must learn to steward this place, and dance to survive.

At EMPAC’s entrance, Kate Ladenheim’s Monumental Death incited our collective falling and rising, inflating the flaccid body of a monumental figure revealing the invisible labor, sacrifice, and rehearsed gesture required to sustain forms of heroism and authority. Its shadow loomed over our supper in the mezzanine below.

Raft was built from the detritus of imperialism to be collectively inhabited through sound, story, and shared action. A kind of spaceship in revolt — elements of the environment shifting to mirror natural disaster, social upheaval, the powerful scary genius of precarity: how it forces us to imagine new forms of relation, care, and survival.

In the Concert Hall, Annie-B Parson & Alla Kovgan’s mega film installation The Oath vibrated color and sound, tracing the seduction and danger of moving as one body.

Spanning EMPAC’s glass bridges, Meg Foley & Carmichael Jones’ Primordial blurred body against landscape — queer gestation, geology, and transformation traced through breath, movement, fabric, and stone.

Arabella Stanger & María Firmino-Castillo’s Dancing Land, Dancing Power talk seeded so much of Corpus: choreography as embodied practice and contested terrain, where land, power, and resistance remain deeply entangled.

Thuto Durkac-Somo, Jonathan González & Mario Gooden’s Black Holes Ain’t So Black stunned. It demanded a liberation that unfolds across cosmological scales. Impossible to encapsulate, just see it if you can.

And nibia pastrana santiago’s preámbulo gently unmade the habits and power dynamics we carry into the theater. Dissolving the familiar choreography between performer, audience, and architecture, it opened space to see through those walls and onto something generative.

Gratitude to @taraaishist for conjuring, to the wizardry of @empac_rpi, to the artists, always.

EMPAC’s TOPOS festival welcomed nearly 1,000 artists and audiences for three days of listening and imagining differently. From ethereal chamber minimalism to electronic rituals that shook the walls, TOPOS was a triumph we built together.

Thank you to curator Amadeus Regucera, artists Travis Andrews, Raven Chacon, Miriam Elhajli, Steve Hammond, Andy Meyerson, Mali Obomsawin, King Britt, Suzi Analogue, Myles Ortiz-Green, Sarah Davachi, Eyvind Kang, Whitney Johnson, Lucy Railton, Iannis Xenakis (RIP), Micah Silver, our staff Catherine Abbott, Katherine Adams, Dave Bebb, Peter Bellamy, Eric Brucker, John Cook, Dorothy Dávila-Evans, David DeLaRosa, Kimberly Gardner, Francis V. Grunfeld, Michael Hanrahan, Shannon Johnson, Maya Krantz, Michael A. Lake, Robin Massey, Stephen McLaughlin, Alvis Mosely, Kallen Muste, Caroline Nelson, Madison Noel, Sam O’Connor, Suzanne Pohl, David Reali, Chris Sendzik, Kim Strosahl, Jeff Svatek, Kathryn TeBordo, Michael Valiquette, Stephanie Van Sandt, Todd Vos, Tara Aisha Willis, and our beautiful audiences! @empac_rpi

@amadeusrex @livingearthshow @ravenchcn @miriamelhajli @steevehammond @maliobomsawin @kingbritt @suzianalog @mylesortizgreen @sarahdavachi @eyvindkang @matchesse @lucyrailton @micahsilver_ @catherinejnean @area_control @pkbellamy @coojd2004 @dave_antilles @francisgrunfel @mikedoeslights @contrition @mayaskrantz @michael.a.lake @alvis_mosely @suzpohl @filmersendzik @svatek_jeff @michael_valiquette @monsterawrmakes @todd__vos @taraaishist

Thrilled to share this news! The Curtis R. Priem Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center (EMPAC) is a multi-venue arts and research center at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York, which opened in 2008. Ever since, it has commissioned and presented the work of artists like Cecil Taylor, Pauline Oliveros, Madlib, Wooster Group, Martine Syms, Miya Masaoka, Marina Rosenfeld, Raven Chacon, Laurie Anderson, Jlin, Ligia Lewis & Corey Scott-Gilbert, Cannupa Hanska Luger, Miriam Ghani, and on and on…

I’ll be joining a team of the most brilliant producers of time-based media working today.Stay tuned @empac_rpi

Thrilled to share this news! The Curtis R. Priem Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center (EMPAC) is a multi-venue arts and research center at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York, which opened in 2008. Ever since, it has commissioned and presented the work of artists like Cecil Taylor, Pauline Oliveros, Madlib, Wooster Group, Martine Syms, Miya Masaoka, Marina Rosenfeld, Raven Chacon, Laurie Anderson, Jlin, Ligia Lewis & Corey Scott-Gilbert, Cannupa Hanska Luger, Miriam Ghani, and on and on…

I’ll be joining a team of the most brilliant producers of time-based media working today.Stay tuned @empac_rpi

Thrilled to share this news! The Curtis R. Priem Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center (EMPAC) is a multi-venue arts and research center at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York, which opened in 2008. Ever since, it has commissioned and presented the work of artists like Cecil Taylor, Pauline Oliveros, Madlib, Wooster Group, Martine Syms, Miya Masaoka, Marina Rosenfeld, Raven Chacon, Laurie Anderson, Jlin, Ligia Lewis & Corey Scott-Gilbert, Cannupa Hanska Luger, Miriam Ghani, and on and on…

I’ll be joining a team of the most brilliant producers of time-based media working today.Stay tuned @empac_rpi

Thrilled to share this news! The Curtis R. Priem Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center (EMPAC) is a multi-venue arts and research center at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York, which opened in 2008. Ever since, it has commissioned and presented the work of artists like Cecil Taylor, Pauline Oliveros, Madlib, Wooster Group, Martine Syms, Miya Masaoka, Marina Rosenfeld, Raven Chacon, Laurie Anderson, Jlin, Ligia Lewis & Corey Scott-Gilbert, Cannupa Hanska Luger, Miriam Ghani, and on and on…

I’ll be joining a team of the most brilliant producers of time-based media working today.Stay tuned @empac_rpi

Thrilled to share this news! The Curtis R. Priem Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center (EMPAC) is a multi-venue arts and research center at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York, which opened in 2008. Ever since, it has commissioned and presented the work of artists like Cecil Taylor, Pauline Oliveros, Madlib, Wooster Group, Martine Syms, Miya Masaoka, Marina Rosenfeld, Raven Chacon, Laurie Anderson, Jlin, Ligia Lewis & Corey Scott-Gilbert, Cannupa Hanska Luger, Miriam Ghani, and on and on…

I’ll be joining a team of the most brilliant producers of time-based media working today.Stay tuned @empac_rpi

Thrilled to share this news! The Curtis R. Priem Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center (EMPAC) is a multi-venue arts and research center at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York, which opened in 2008. Ever since, it has commissioned and presented the work of artists like Cecil Taylor, Pauline Oliveros, Madlib, Wooster Group, Martine Syms, Miya Masaoka, Marina Rosenfeld, Raven Chacon, Laurie Anderson, Jlin, Ligia Lewis & Corey Scott-Gilbert, Cannupa Hanska Luger, Miriam Ghani, and on and on…

I’ll be joining a team of the most brilliant producers of time-based media working today.Stay tuned @empac_rpi

Thrilled to share this news! The Curtis R. Priem Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center (EMPAC) is a multi-venue arts and research center at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York, which opened in 2008. Ever since, it has commissioned and presented the work of artists like Cecil Taylor, Pauline Oliveros, Madlib, Wooster Group, Martine Syms, Miya Masaoka, Marina Rosenfeld, Raven Chacon, Laurie Anderson, Jlin, Ligia Lewis & Corey Scott-Gilbert, Cannupa Hanska Luger, Miriam Ghani, and on and on…

I’ll be joining a team of the most brilliant producers of time-based media working today.Stay tuned @empac_rpi

Thrilled to share this news! The Curtis R. Priem Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center (EMPAC) is a multi-venue arts and research center at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York, which opened in 2008. Ever since, it has commissioned and presented the work of artists like Cecil Taylor, Pauline Oliveros, Madlib, Wooster Group, Martine Syms, Miya Masaoka, Marina Rosenfeld, Raven Chacon, Laurie Anderson, Jlin, Ligia Lewis & Corey Scott-Gilbert, Cannupa Hanska Luger, Miriam Ghani, and on and on…

I’ll be joining a team of the most brilliant producers of time-based media working today.Stay tuned @empac_rpi

Thrilled to share this news! The Curtis R. Priem Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center (EMPAC) is a multi-venue arts and research center at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York, which opened in 2008. Ever since, it has commissioned and presented the work of artists like Cecil Taylor, Pauline Oliveros, Madlib, Wooster Group, Martine Syms, Miya Masaoka, Marina Rosenfeld, Raven Chacon, Laurie Anderson, Jlin, Ligia Lewis & Corey Scott-Gilbert, Cannupa Hanska Luger, Miriam Ghani, and on and on…

I’ll be joining a team of the most brilliant producers of time-based media working today.Stay tuned @empac_rpi

So much love & hope in all the gatherings. Together, we rise up rise above rise beyond

Oh, and Brontez and I are bday babes! @brontezpurnell you unrule my world

So much love & hope in all the gatherings. Together, we rise up rise above rise beyond

Oh, and Brontez and I are bday babes! @brontezpurnell you unrule my world

So much love & hope in all the gatherings. Together, we rise up rise above rise beyond

Oh, and Brontez and I are bday babes! @brontezpurnell you unrule my world

So much love & hope in all the gatherings. Together, we rise up rise above rise beyond

Oh, and Brontez and I are bday babes! @brontezpurnell you unrule my world

So much love & hope in all the gatherings. Together, we rise up rise above rise beyond

Oh, and Brontez and I are bday babes! @brontezpurnell you unrule my world

So much love & hope in all the gatherings. Together, we rise up rise above rise beyond

Oh, and Brontez and I are bday babes! @brontezpurnell you unrule my world

So much love & hope in all the gatherings. Together, we rise up rise above rise beyond

Oh, and Brontez and I are bday babes! @brontezpurnell you unrule my world

So much love & hope in all the gatherings. Together, we rise up rise above rise beyond

Oh, and Brontez and I are bday babes! @brontezpurnell you unrule my world

So much love & hope in all the gatherings. Together, we rise up rise above rise beyond

Oh, and Brontez and I are bday babes! @brontezpurnell you unrule my world

So much love & hope in all the gatherings. Together, we rise up rise above rise beyond

Oh, and Brontez and I are bday babes! @brontezpurnell you unrule my world

My pops turned 80 today, and I’m finally realizing, after a couple of scary years, that each day I get to spend with him is precious. This man taught me that true wisdom exceeds and even upends book-smarts, and can only be accessed through empathy. He has a kindness and a knowingness that has always drawn brilliant minds to his doorstep.

That being said he was definitely a dad to match my Calvin and Hobbes addled brain, throwing me in the ocean with a weight belt and a rubber band speargun to catch dinner cuz it was “more edifying” than heating up chili. He taught in a public school for fifty years, but not by choice - he got a rush degree after being drafted for Vietnam. Yet, for me, his classroom was a model of what school could be: students rewrote the “book of laws” whenever they wanted, but only if they could reach consensus by making arguments to convince their peers. And whenever anything got boring or tense my dad would take out his guitar and everyone would sing. The kids spent most of their time laughing, singing, or trying to persuade each other to get rid of math.

And, by the way, pops truly doesn’t care what your fancy art show might be trying to say about the rhetoric of democracy in a surveillance state, but he’ll definitely want to know what the heck you were thinking talking to a bunch of speed addled truck drivers about Derrida. Get a grip.

Honestly dudes, I’ve dated like 50 of you now and not a single one of you morons measures up. Take stock of your relational knowledge, understand your worth, know your limits, be accountable for your misogyny, your fears, ask for help, shut the hell up and listen, and don’t take yourselves so damn seriously! Gee whiz, just be like this guy.

I love you dad.

My pops turned 80 today, and I’m finally realizing, after a couple of scary years, that each day I get to spend with him is precious. This man taught me that true wisdom exceeds and even upends book-smarts, and can only be accessed through empathy. He has a kindness and a knowingness that has always drawn brilliant minds to his doorstep.

That being said he was definitely a dad to match my Calvin and Hobbes addled brain, throwing me in the ocean with a weight belt and a rubber band speargun to catch dinner cuz it was “more edifying” than heating up chili. He taught in a public school for fifty years, but not by choice - he got a rush degree after being drafted for Vietnam. Yet, for me, his classroom was a model of what school could be: students rewrote the “book of laws” whenever they wanted, but only if they could reach consensus by making arguments to convince their peers. And whenever anything got boring or tense my dad would take out his guitar and everyone would sing. The kids spent most of their time laughing, singing, or trying to persuade each other to get rid of math.

And, by the way, pops truly doesn’t care what your fancy art show might be trying to say about the rhetoric of democracy in a surveillance state, but he’ll definitely want to know what the heck you were thinking talking to a bunch of speed addled truck drivers about Derrida. Get a grip.

Honestly dudes, I’ve dated like 50 of you now and not a single one of you morons measures up. Take stock of your relational knowledge, understand your worth, know your limits, be accountable for your misogyny, your fears, ask for help, shut the hell up and listen, and don’t take yourselves so damn seriously! Gee whiz, just be like this guy.

I love you dad.

My pops turned 80 today, and I’m finally realizing, after a couple of scary years, that each day I get to spend with him is precious. This man taught me that true wisdom exceeds and even upends book-smarts, and can only be accessed through empathy. He has a kindness and a knowingness that has always drawn brilliant minds to his doorstep.

That being said he was definitely a dad to match my Calvin and Hobbes addled brain, throwing me in the ocean with a weight belt and a rubber band speargun to catch dinner cuz it was “more edifying” than heating up chili. He taught in a public school for fifty years, but not by choice - he got a rush degree after being drafted for Vietnam. Yet, for me, his classroom was a model of what school could be: students rewrote the “book of laws” whenever they wanted, but only if they could reach consensus by making arguments to convince their peers. And whenever anything got boring or tense my dad would take out his guitar and everyone would sing. The kids spent most of their time laughing, singing, or trying to persuade each other to get rid of math.

And, by the way, pops truly doesn’t care what your fancy art show might be trying to say about the rhetoric of democracy in a surveillance state, but he’ll definitely want to know what the heck you were thinking talking to a bunch of speed addled truck drivers about Derrida. Get a grip.

Honestly dudes, I’ve dated like 50 of you now and not a single one of you morons measures up. Take stock of your relational knowledge, understand your worth, know your limits, be accountable for your misogyny, your fears, ask for help, shut the hell up and listen, and don’t take yourselves so damn seriously! Gee whiz, just be like this guy.

I love you dad.

My pops turned 80 today, and I’m finally realizing, after a couple of scary years, that each day I get to spend with him is precious. This man taught me that true wisdom exceeds and even upends book-smarts, and can only be accessed through empathy. He has a kindness and a knowingness that has always drawn brilliant minds to his doorstep.

That being said he was definitely a dad to match my Calvin and Hobbes addled brain, throwing me in the ocean with a weight belt and a rubber band speargun to catch dinner cuz it was “more edifying” than heating up chili. He taught in a public school for fifty years, but not by choice - he got a rush degree after being drafted for Vietnam. Yet, for me, his classroom was a model of what school could be: students rewrote the “book of laws” whenever they wanted, but only if they could reach consensus by making arguments to convince their peers. And whenever anything got boring or tense my dad would take out his guitar and everyone would sing. The kids spent most of their time laughing, singing, or trying to persuade each other to get rid of math.

And, by the way, pops truly doesn’t care what your fancy art show might be trying to say about the rhetoric of democracy in a surveillance state, but he’ll definitely want to know what the heck you were thinking talking to a bunch of speed addled truck drivers about Derrida. Get a grip.

Honestly dudes, I’ve dated like 50 of you now and not a single one of you morons measures up. Take stock of your relational knowledge, understand your worth, know your limits, be accountable for your misogyny, your fears, ask for help, shut the hell up and listen, and don’t take yourselves so damn seriously! Gee whiz, just be like this guy.

I love you dad.

My pops turned 80 today, and I’m finally realizing, after a couple of scary years, that each day I get to spend with him is precious. This man taught me that true wisdom exceeds and even upends book-smarts, and can only be accessed through empathy. He has a kindness and a knowingness that has always drawn brilliant minds to his doorstep.

That being said he was definitely a dad to match my Calvin and Hobbes addled brain, throwing me in the ocean with a weight belt and a rubber band speargun to catch dinner cuz it was “more edifying” than heating up chili. He taught in a public school for fifty years, but not by choice - he got a rush degree after being drafted for Vietnam. Yet, for me, his classroom was a model of what school could be: students rewrote the “book of laws” whenever they wanted, but only if they could reach consensus by making arguments to convince their peers. And whenever anything got boring or tense my dad would take out his guitar and everyone would sing. The kids spent most of their time laughing, singing, or trying to persuade each other to get rid of math.

And, by the way, pops truly doesn’t care what your fancy art show might be trying to say about the rhetoric of democracy in a surveillance state, but he’ll definitely want to know what the heck you were thinking talking to a bunch of speed addled truck drivers about Derrida. Get a grip.

Honestly dudes, I’ve dated like 50 of you now and not a single one of you morons measures up. Take stock of your relational knowledge, understand your worth, know your limits, be accountable for your misogyny, your fears, ask for help, shut the hell up and listen, and don’t take yourselves so damn seriously! Gee whiz, just be like this guy.

I love you dad.

My pops turned 80 today, and I’m finally realizing, after a couple of scary years, that each day I get to spend with him is precious. This man taught me that true wisdom exceeds and even upends book-smarts, and can only be accessed through empathy. He has a kindness and a knowingness that has always drawn brilliant minds to his doorstep.

That being said he was definitely a dad to match my Calvin and Hobbes addled brain, throwing me in the ocean with a weight belt and a rubber band speargun to catch dinner cuz it was “more edifying” than heating up chili. He taught in a public school for fifty years, but not by choice - he got a rush degree after being drafted for Vietnam. Yet, for me, his classroom was a model of what school could be: students rewrote the “book of laws” whenever they wanted, but only if they could reach consensus by making arguments to convince their peers. And whenever anything got boring or tense my dad would take out his guitar and everyone would sing. The kids spent most of their time laughing, singing, or trying to persuade each other to get rid of math.

And, by the way, pops truly doesn’t care what your fancy art show might be trying to say about the rhetoric of democracy in a surveillance state, but he’ll definitely want to know what the heck you were thinking talking to a bunch of speed addled truck drivers about Derrida. Get a grip.

Honestly dudes, I’ve dated like 50 of you now and not a single one of you morons measures up. Take stock of your relational knowledge, understand your worth, know your limits, be accountable for your misogyny, your fears, ask for help, shut the hell up and listen, and don’t take yourselves so damn seriously! Gee whiz, just be like this guy.

I love you dad.

My pops turned 80 today, and I’m finally realizing, after a couple of scary years, that each day I get to spend with him is precious. This man taught me that true wisdom exceeds and even upends book-smarts, and can only be accessed through empathy. He has a kindness and a knowingness that has always drawn brilliant minds to his doorstep.

That being said he was definitely a dad to match my Calvin and Hobbes addled brain, throwing me in the ocean with a weight belt and a rubber band speargun to catch dinner cuz it was “more edifying” than heating up chili. He taught in a public school for fifty years, but not by choice - he got a rush degree after being drafted for Vietnam. Yet, for me, his classroom was a model of what school could be: students rewrote the “book of laws” whenever they wanted, but only if they could reach consensus by making arguments to convince their peers. And whenever anything got boring or tense my dad would take out his guitar and everyone would sing. The kids spent most of their time laughing, singing, or trying to persuade each other to get rid of math.

And, by the way, pops truly doesn’t care what your fancy art show might be trying to say about the rhetoric of democracy in a surveillance state, but he’ll definitely want to know what the heck you were thinking talking to a bunch of speed addled truck drivers about Derrida. Get a grip.

Honestly dudes, I’ve dated like 50 of you now and not a single one of you morons measures up. Take stock of your relational knowledge, understand your worth, know your limits, be accountable for your misogyny, your fears, ask for help, shut the hell up and listen, and don’t take yourselves so damn seriously! Gee whiz, just be like this guy.

I love you dad.

My pops turned 80 today, and I’m finally realizing, after a couple of scary years, that each day I get to spend with him is precious. This man taught me that true wisdom exceeds and even upends book-smarts, and can only be accessed through empathy. He has a kindness and a knowingness that has always drawn brilliant minds to his doorstep.

That being said he was definitely a dad to match my Calvin and Hobbes addled brain, throwing me in the ocean with a weight belt and a rubber band speargun to catch dinner cuz it was “more edifying” than heating up chili. He taught in a public school for fifty years, but not by choice - he got a rush degree after being drafted for Vietnam. Yet, for me, his classroom was a model of what school could be: students rewrote the “book of laws” whenever they wanted, but only if they could reach consensus by making arguments to convince their peers. And whenever anything got boring or tense my dad would take out his guitar and everyone would sing. The kids spent most of their time laughing, singing, or trying to persuade each other to get rid of math.

And, by the way, pops truly doesn’t care what your fancy art show might be trying to say about the rhetoric of democracy in a surveillance state, but he’ll definitely want to know what the heck you were thinking talking to a bunch of speed addled truck drivers about Derrida. Get a grip.

Honestly dudes, I’ve dated like 50 of you now and not a single one of you morons measures up. Take stock of your relational knowledge, understand your worth, know your limits, be accountable for your misogyny, your fears, ask for help, shut the hell up and listen, and don’t take yourselves so damn seriously! Gee whiz, just be like this guy.

I love you dad.

My pops turned 80 today, and I’m finally realizing, after a couple of scary years, that each day I get to spend with him is precious. This man taught me that true wisdom exceeds and even upends book-smarts, and can only be accessed through empathy. He has a kindness and a knowingness that has always drawn brilliant minds to his doorstep.

That being said he was definitely a dad to match my Calvin and Hobbes addled brain, throwing me in the ocean with a weight belt and a rubber band speargun to catch dinner cuz it was “more edifying” than heating up chili. He taught in a public school for fifty years, but not by choice - he got a rush degree after being drafted for Vietnam. Yet, for me, his classroom was a model of what school could be: students rewrote the “book of laws” whenever they wanted, but only if they could reach consensus by making arguments to convince their peers. And whenever anything got boring or tense my dad would take out his guitar and everyone would sing. The kids spent most of their time laughing, singing, or trying to persuade each other to get rid of math.

And, by the way, pops truly doesn’t care what your fancy art show might be trying to say about the rhetoric of democracy in a surveillance state, but he’ll definitely want to know what the heck you were thinking talking to a bunch of speed addled truck drivers about Derrida. Get a grip.

Honestly dudes, I’ve dated like 50 of you now and not a single one of you morons measures up. Take stock of your relational knowledge, understand your worth, know your limits, be accountable for your misogyny, your fears, ask for help, shut the hell up and listen, and don’t take yourselves so damn seriously! Gee whiz, just be like this guy.

I love you dad.

My pops turned 80 today, and I’m finally realizing, after a couple of scary years, that each day I get to spend with him is precious. This man taught me that true wisdom exceeds and even upends book-smarts, and can only be accessed through empathy. He has a kindness and a knowingness that has always drawn brilliant minds to his doorstep.

That being said he was definitely a dad to match my Calvin and Hobbes addled brain, throwing me in the ocean with a weight belt and a rubber band speargun to catch dinner cuz it was “more edifying” than heating up chili. He taught in a public school for fifty years, but not by choice - he got a rush degree after being drafted for Vietnam. Yet, for me, his classroom was a model of what school could be: students rewrote the “book of laws” whenever they wanted, but only if they could reach consensus by making arguments to convince their peers. And whenever anything got boring or tense my dad would take out his guitar and everyone would sing. The kids spent most of their time laughing, singing, or trying to persuade each other to get rid of math.

And, by the way, pops truly doesn’t care what your fancy art show might be trying to say about the rhetoric of democracy in a surveillance state, but he’ll definitely want to know what the heck you were thinking talking to a bunch of speed addled truck drivers about Derrida. Get a grip.

Honestly dudes, I’ve dated like 50 of you now and not a single one of you morons measures up. Take stock of your relational knowledge, understand your worth, know your limits, be accountable for your misogyny, your fears, ask for help, shut the hell up and listen, and don’t take yourselves so damn seriously! Gee whiz, just be like this guy.

I love you dad.

Love listening at walls with @juana_berrio, enmeshed in this @ravenchcn noise net and everywhere that dissonance and empathy can coexist. 🖤

Love listening at walls with @juana_berrio, enmeshed in this @ravenchcn noise net and everywhere that dissonance and empathy can coexist. 🖤

Appreciation post for Tongo Eisen-Martin @_tongogara_ who helped bring the wondrous Sankara into our collective care. Come hear his poetry on Saturday at Artists Space!

Appreciation post for Tongo Eisen-Martin @_tongogara_ who helped bring the wondrous Sankara into our collective care. Come hear his poetry on Saturday at Artists Space!

Appreciation post for Tongo Eisen-Martin @_tongogara_ who helped bring the wondrous Sankara into our collective care. Come hear his poetry on Saturday at Artists Space!

Appreciation post for Tongo Eisen-Martin @_tongogara_ who helped bring the wondrous Sankara into our collective care. Come hear his poetry on Saturday at Artists Space!

Archiving my Crown Heights spot! Will miss u disco loo 🪩 🚽.

Archiving my Crown Heights spot! Will miss u disco loo 🪩 🚽.

Archiving my Crown Heights spot! Will miss u disco loo 🪩 🚽.

Archiving my Crown Heights spot! Will miss u disco loo 🪩 🚽.

Archiving my Crown Heights spot! Will miss u disco loo 🪩 🚽.

Archiving my Crown Heights spot! Will miss u disco loo 🪩 🚽.

Archiving my Crown Heights spot! Will miss u disco loo 🪩 🚽.

Archiving my Crown Heights spot! Will miss u disco loo 🪩 🚽.

Archiving my Crown Heights spot! Will miss u disco loo 🪩 🚽.

Archiving my Crown Heights spot! Will miss u disco loo 🪩 🚽.

Japan was all mossy fecund dissonance with mischievous oracles filling my head with ancient poems of liberation. And dear god the vessels!

Japan was all mossy fecund dissonance with mischievous oracles filling my head with ancient poems of liberation. And dear god the vessels!

Japan was all mossy fecund dissonance with mischievous oracles filling my head with ancient poems of liberation. And dear god the vessels!

Japan was all mossy fecund dissonance with mischievous oracles filling my head with ancient poems of liberation. And dear god the vessels!

Japan was all mossy fecund dissonance with mischievous oracles filling my head with ancient poems of liberation. And dear god the vessels!

Japan was all mossy fecund dissonance with mischievous oracles filling my head with ancient poems of liberation. And dear god the vessels!

Japan was all mossy fecund dissonance with mischievous oracles filling my head with ancient poems of liberation. And dear god the vessels!

Japan was all mossy fecund dissonance with mischievous oracles filling my head with ancient poems of liberation. And dear god the vessels!

Japan was all mossy fecund dissonance with mischievous oracles filling my head with ancient poems of liberation. And dear god the vessels!

Japan was all mossy fecund dissonance with mischievous oracles filling my head with ancient poems of liberation. And dear god the vessels!

thrilled to invite you to the new Leonard & Claire Tow Center for the Performing Arts at Brooklyn College to experience the work of composer Wadada Leo Smith. Premiering over four days at the Tow Center’s acoustically exceptional Don Buchwald Theater, “America Transformed”features eighteen compositions by Smith created between 1985–2023 and program notes by poet & music critic, Thulani Davis.

“America Transformed” is a spiritual sequel to Smith’s much-lauded Ten Freedom Summers, which was named a finalist for the 2013 Pulitzer Prize in music. Where that monumental piece encompassed a decade in America’s struggle for civil rights, “America Transformed,” written over a 38-year period, widens the lens even further, exploring the artists and activists who have fought to realize the promise of freedom and equality for all. Wadada Leo Smith was part of the first generation of musicians to come out of Chicago’s Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM) and has established himself as one of the leading composers and performers of creative contemporary music.

Hope to see you there!

Dena Beard
Director of the Leonard & Claire Tow Center for the Performing Arts
Brooklyn College, The City University of New York

———

Wadada Leo Smith: “America Transformed”
Friday, September 8, 2023 – Monday, September 11, 2023
7pm doors / 7:30–9:30pm performances
Don Buchwald Theater at Brooklyn College

thrilled to invite you to the new Leonard & Claire Tow Center for the Performing Arts at Brooklyn College to experience the work of composer Wadada Leo Smith. Premiering over four days at the Tow Center’s acoustically exceptional Don Buchwald Theater, “America Transformed”features eighteen compositions by Smith created between 1985–2023 and program notes by poet & music critic, Thulani Davis.

“America Transformed” is a spiritual sequel to Smith’s much-lauded Ten Freedom Summers, which was named a finalist for the 2013 Pulitzer Prize in music. Where that monumental piece encompassed a decade in America’s struggle for civil rights, “America Transformed,” written over a 38-year period, widens the lens even further, exploring the artists and activists who have fought to realize the promise of freedom and equality for all. Wadada Leo Smith was part of the first generation of musicians to come out of Chicago’s Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM) and has established himself as one of the leading composers and performers of creative contemporary music.

Hope to see you there!

Dena Beard
Director of the Leonard & Claire Tow Center for the Performing Arts
Brooklyn College, The City University of New York

———

Wadada Leo Smith: “America Transformed”
Friday, September 8, 2023 – Monday, September 11, 2023
7pm doors / 7:30–9:30pm performances
Don Buchwald Theater at Brooklyn College

Okay I’m not mad yet but there’s nothing like mediocre Ethiopian food to get me hankering for Oakland and this wee nook of a place. The light in the Bay is just different.

Okay I’m not mad yet but there’s nothing like mediocre Ethiopian food to get me hankering for Oakland and this wee nook of a place. The light in the Bay is just different.

Okay I’m not mad yet but there’s nothing like mediocre Ethiopian food to get me hankering for Oakland and this wee nook of a place. The light in the Bay is just different.

Okay I’m not mad yet but there’s nothing like mediocre Ethiopian food to get me hankering for Oakland and this wee nook of a place. The light in the Bay is just different.

Okay I’m not mad yet but there’s nothing like mediocre Ethiopian food to get me hankering for Oakland and this wee nook of a place. The light in the Bay is just different.

Okay I’m not mad yet but there’s nothing like mediocre Ethiopian food to get me hankering for Oakland and this wee nook of a place. The light in the Bay is just different.

Okay I’m not mad yet but there’s nothing like mediocre Ethiopian food to get me hankering for Oakland and this wee nook of a place. The light in the Bay is just different.

Okay I’m not mad yet but there’s nothing like mediocre Ethiopian food to get me hankering for Oakland and this wee nook of a place. The light in the Bay is just different.

Okay I’m not mad yet but there’s nothing like mediocre Ethiopian food to get me hankering for Oakland and this wee nook of a place. The light in the Bay is just different.

Made it over to the east side. Feeling very fortunate and very much at a loss for words. More soon my friends, and thank you.

Made it over to the east side. Feeling very fortunate and very much at a loss for words. More soon my friends, and thank you.

Made it over to the east side. Feeling very fortunate and very much at a loss for words. More soon my friends, and thank you.

Made it over to the east side. Feeling very fortunate and very much at a loss for words. More soon my friends, and thank you.

Made it over to the east side. Feeling very fortunate and very much at a loss for words. More soon my friends, and thank you.

Made it over to the east side. Feeling very fortunate and very much at a loss for words. More soon my friends, and thank you.

Made it over to the east side. Feeling very fortunate and very much at a loss for words. More soon my friends, and thank you.

Made it over to the east side. Feeling very fortunate and very much at a loss for words. More soon my friends, and thank you.

Made it over to the east side. Feeling very fortunate and very much at a loss for words. More soon my friends, and thank you.

Made it over to the east side. Feeling very fortunate and very much at a loss for words. More soon my friends, and thank you.