a choreographic object

This wearable designed by sound artist and clothing designer Cat Lauigan was hand dyed with anotta seeds and constructed with care. I could feel her process upon placing it on my body.

The wearable or, in this case, the choreographic object is an extension of myself that allows me to acknowledge tiny poisons in the creases of the Earth. With this tool, for me, it is important to stay away from words like extractive or restorative, and really lean into the notion of a transformative score. William Forsythe’s definition of this marks it so clearly: 

“A choreographic object, or score is by nature open to a full palette of phenomenological instigations because it acknowledges the body as wholly designed to persistently read every signal from its environment.” [17] 

The weight of the top pulls you to the sands. It literally grounds you and, for the efforts of trying to stay warm, impulses you to maintain the edges of it to the sands—enclosing you. Your bare skin tentatively moves across the borders of the place and your eyes scan for the sections that will be visited.

The sieve engages slowness and emphazises softness in your movements. You slide into the sleeves, lift and lower on repeat, open the tool and meet it with the sands, remove your arms, do an extra check by dusting your finger tips over the remaining material. You hold the waste in your left hand as the right sifts through. Your eyes are sifting just as much. For some reason you place your back to the waters as if to protect her further.