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TWENTY-SEVENTH NIGHT.
Tomorrow we’ll start making some things. All of these are true. They are beginnings of ideas, at different stages of gestation. We don’t normally share them at this point. They will take varying amounts of time to create. Some of them will never happen. All of them will emerge in one form or another.
A hoop on the ground – a forensic exploration of locality.
A series of conversations, lunches, dinners, meetings in the house investigating who’s at the table.
A campaign for social and affordable housing.
A website developed in public view.
A series of neighbourhood walks.
A conversation with a philosopher on neighbourliness as virtue.
A set of encounters with other artists.
A set of surgeries with an expert producer.
A touring work that functions as a shape to be occupied and re-shaped by people from the place it arrives in.
An exhibition of people.
Another film.
A profitable YouTube channel.
A drive-in/walk-up show.
A 12-hour dance marathon.
A rehearsal for a revolution.
A competition to create public space.
A book on staging life and death.
A walk backwards.
A musical.
Made by Quarantine