Two female performers with exposed, pedicured feet lie inside amorphous brown turds on a pink, raft-like mattress. Each clutches a rubbery cord with a C-shaped velvet end between her toes. Similar cords with sporadic red tumors suspend the mattress by its corners and eight peach stools on which audience members may sit. Around a corner, two twin-like women wearing a conjoined yellow dress and padded felt blindfolds / VR goggles, hold the ends of the turds' cords. Wordlessly, they cooperate to blindly navigate the gallery while tethered to the turds and attached to each other in their shared gown. High on a wall, a giant faceless egg with charismatic cockscomb waits idly on a green park bench. A video shows the same faceless egg in a red room swaying on a flower-bedecked swing, performing ornate bows, and singing a muffled rendition of "My Cherie Amour".
In early performances, audience members interacted with the performers at ground-level, manipulating the movements of the women in the yellow dress by pulling their cords, and teasing the toes of the turd performers by tickling and temporarily snatching the cords from their toes. The performers, blind and inhibited by their costumes, are at their audience's mercy. In subsequent performances, audience members appeared to flee from the roaming yellow dress women who accordingly appropriated more and more of the gallery's territory
In ...(dot, dot, dot), I turn the gallery into a giant incubator. The incubator is a place for waiting, for cautious explorations of space, and for doubled expectations. The body's development is suspended. Virtual Reality is experienced haptically by pairs of bodies which are partially merged or not fully formed.