Isabelle Schad — Fugen, at HAU3

Isabelle Schad’s Fugen, for which I was artistic assistance, returns to Hebbel am Ufer this week, for two shows, followed by a return of Solo for Lea at Sophiensæle on the weekend.

Dear friends and colleagues,

We would like to invite you to the reprise of the pieces Fugen and Solo for Lea by Isabelle Schad.

Both pieces are part of a series of works that Isabelle Schad subtitles as portraits and will be shown as Double Bill on the same weekend in HAU Hebbel am Ufer and Sophiensaele Berlin.

We would be very happy to see you here or there.

Fugen
Thursday, 05.04.2018, 19:00
Friday, 06.04.2018, 19:00
HAU Hebbel am Ufer, Berlin (HAU3)

Solo for Lea
Saturday, 07.04.2018, 19:30
Sunday, 08.04.2018, 19:30
Sophiensæle, Berlin

Fugen “… is a complex work that challenges both the choreographer Isabelle Schad and her audience in previously unseen ways. And thus creates opportunities to go beyond borders.” (Katharina Schmidt)

With Fugen, Berlin choreographer and dancer Isabelle Schad continues her work between musical concepts and their expression in movement. Coming from a music background and a lifelong interest in the polyphonic work of J.S. Bach, she attempts to look at her own (hi)story and the origins of (her) movement between discipline and pleasure. Fugen is an autobiographical work in which the performer’s body serves as an example for the construction of the individual within disciplines and systems one cannot escape from.

Solo for Lea, “A study in minimalism, a physical portrait and a sculpture in motion … a sublime draft.” (Elena Philipp)

Solo for Lea is a meeting between Isabelle Schad and Lea Moro. The work attempts to draw a very personal portrait of Lea Moro, dealing with the specificities of her body, its rhythms, its contours, colours and energies, playing with form-aspects of cubism and Picasso’s drawings in one dash. Together Schad and Moro engage in constellations of forming and disfiguring, in which the body itself becomes the stage: the space, place and matter that is the subject of observation.

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Lemmy 🖤 Panda

I found this snuck into my suitcase. Stone Tape Theory Altar of Lemmy.

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Stone Tape Theory: Gaffer Tape

The day after. Removing darkness. De-mummification.

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Stone Tape Theory: Fichtestraße

Watching Virginia transcribe one of the many cassette tapes of Stone Tape Theory and I see the name of the street I live in.

Video

Stone Tape Theory: Tapes Rewinding

12 in widdershins.

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Stone Tape Theory: House Altar of Lemmy

Lemmy watches over us in the biobox, offerings of cigarettes and whiskey.

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These Go To Eleven

None More Black. We Are The Road Crew. Everything Louder Than Everything Else.

SecreT(uring)ly

Georg, with whom I worked on co-writing The Station, asked me if I’d like to do another piece of co-writing with him, this time an opera libretto. I said yes (duh!). Last Friday, we had a three-way chat with Henry Vega, the composer, about Alan Turing, neural networks, science fiction, queer stuff, and all, for a sharp hour (Georg’s good like that with his one-hour meetings).

Today I spent a couple of hours (after some dipping of toes last night) in installing TensorFlow-Char-RNN, a “a character level language model using multilayer Recurrent Neural Network,” as made wildly lovable by Janelle Shane of Letting neural networks be weird. That involved installing TensorFlow. I went for the direct MacOS approach (after toying with either a Vagrant VM or Docker container) of the Virtualenv flavour. Plus Python 3. And pip. Dependencies. We have them.

A bit of faffing around, and out is spat a ‘Shakespeare’:

t ‘vkdwsa avf
neu irot rS
, mvuaeea giCsouo aed renat rs
;iiweszteseooiiWhe thrr l st !htt :hsre

I mean, I was expecting a single, long ‘aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa’, so this was progress.

More faffing, fans to 6000rpm, CPU to 500%, and some short while later, ‘Shakespeare’!

Before we proceed any further,
Or each doth now foul branch with thy preser’d up
Young to devise me him;
But in my jewities rebeeve me to this,
Your soul than daggers and breeding
some abrother Arms
What will be pronound with a husband; he’s beauty much or a slaughter,
But I’ll wring my false find than how ill.

Nailed it.

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What’s Wrong With Peckham?

“I have to run through Peckham! At Night!”

(Good times were had in Morley’s with Onyx, Carly, and Naretha back in November for Take This, For It Is My Body. Peckham felt like home.)

Reading: John Baily — War, Exile and the Music of Afghanistan: The Ethnographer’s Tale