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Talking Dance with Eiko & Koma

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As Eiko & Koma’s performance of Naked unfolds throughout the month of November in a Walker gallery—six hours a day, six days a week—time takes on new meanings. Visitors are free to watch for a few minutes or a few hours, but whether or not they return to experience this durational “living installation” as it evolves, [...]

As Eiko & Koma’s performance of Naked unfolds throughout the month of November in a Walker gallery—six hours a day, six days a week—time takes on new meanings. Visitors are free to watch for a few minutes or a few hours, but whether or not they return to experience this durational “living installation” as it evolves, its dimensions extend beyond the existing gallery space and the immediate moment.

You are invited to join the Walker’s McGuire Senior Curator of Performing Arts, Philip Bither, for an unique conversation with the artists Thursday October 28th to discuss their upcoming performance of Naked, their past work, and their three-year, multi-city retrospective project.

Photo by Anna Lee Campbell

To whet your appetite for what is sure to be a fabulous conversation, here is an excerpt of an interview given earlier this year between Bither and Eiko Otake.

 Philip Bither: Naked comes some 12 years after you and Koma performed Breath at the Whitney Museum of American Art, a piece that took place throughout the month of June in 1998. Why did you want to make another “living installation,” and what did you learn from Breath that you will incorporate into Naked?

Eiko Otake: We think that the body offers a radical questioning, particularly in a museum context—not asking questions necessarily, but questioning as a state of being. For us a body, or the acute sense of remains or the lack of a body, is always a part of our artistic pursuit and a larger conception of a possibility for art. It is a frame and a space: A body gives other objects and situations scale and reference. Through other projects during the 12 years since Breath—including large-scale theatrical works, outdoor works, and international and multigenerational collaborations—we have continued our interest in exploring thirst and hunger as bodily needs that correlate with a thirst and hunger for intimacy, relationships, and interactions. By coming back to live and move in a gallery, we hope to collapse the time passed since Breath, a time in which we have lingered as much as we have aged. We are inviting a close look at another one-month period of time in our bodies, saying to our audience: Linger, stay here with your eyes, live and kinetically observe how our bodies move toward death.

Bither: Naked is a part of your three-year Retrospective Project currently underway, which takes you and Koma to numerous cities throughout the United States for performances and residences, and includes a major catalogue published by the Walker. How has all of that impacted the nature and content of Naked?

Eiko: Archiving our work forces us deal with memories, traces, facts, photos, and words. This process has given us a new appetite, a desire for a place that is beyond memory and facts—a no man’s land. The archiving effort also made us see several continuous desires we have carried for decades, which have influenced Naked. Instead of crowding every wall space, we filled one half of the room with scorched material but the other half is left black: barren, like another world. Our bodies exist near what looks like an island or raft, or maybe debris washed up on shore. This set carries various memories and smells from our ancient past, as well as visual motifs from our artistic history together.

Bither: It will also be a part of the exhibition Event Horizon, which showcases artworks from the Walker’s collection. How have those objects affected what you are making or the viewer’s experience?

Eiko: Our work as a living installation walks a fine line between an ephemeral artwork and tangible existence. There are nuances occurring in specific time periods that have the possibility to go beyond that time. The fact that we are in a “permanent collection” at all adds an interesting context; it forces viewers to confront the materiality of what they are seeing.

 Bither: How has creating Naked as a Walker commission furthered your practice?

 Eiko: Rarely do we have an invitation to literally reside in an environment we create, and to be seen for a length of time. We can fully engage in our kinetic imagination, which includes being there and being gone. Thus we will also reflect on how being there for a month could possibly create remains. Will the tangible object to which we press our bodies retain the traces of our living? Is creating tangible and material art a paradox for dancers who are aging and within decades of dying? The Walker is giving us the opportunity to “linger,” not for eternity but a little bit longer than with our stage works. How this “little bit longer” can relate to eternity is as yet unknown.

 Bither: With respect to audiences, how is a durational performance different from presenting a specifically timed work in a theater?

Eiko: In theater, there are set rules of what to see and what not to see, how to behave, and what it is to be an audience. In a theater we serve for a condensed time, so that the audience can go home with some kind of understanding of what happened. However, with Naked, there is no beginning, middle, or ending except a bigger and more common time frame: we were born, are here, and will be gone. At the Walker, our bodies are available all the time. Movement occurs without serving the time structure of a work. In a gallery installation, we spend the real time being there and people will see us for differing durations of time—like in a hospital, where a patient spends many hours observing how clouds move outside a window, or at the same time family members observe a patient getting stronger or weaker. We will be a part of the installation; we will also be seeing, breathing, and hearing. That kind of body is not a dancer’s body.

 Bither: Does the close proximity of viewers in a gallery setting change how you and Koma make the work and place yourselves in it?

Eiko: We have always wanted to be naked, sometimes physically but more times metaphorically. Close proximity does bring a nakedness to our human encounters, and it is a singularly important element of this installation. Being seen and seeing is tender, ambiguous, odd—it asks the viewer to observe details. A viewer can see the expanse of the whole body as well as very small parts of it. Each person looks at us and we look at each person and beyond. We offer bodies to be seen, but we also see viewers’ bodies watching us.

 Bither: You have said before that even if people only spend a few minutes watching a performance, those minutes may stay with them for years. What does that belief mean for this type of durational performance, when people may watch for varying spans of time?

 Eiko: One cannot judge one person’s experience by comparing it to another’s. Nor can the quality of a personal experience be quantified. We hope that people do not go home thinking they did not see enough. We also hope those who stay longer or who come back do not feel that that investment does not bring them more. People sometimes say it is better to send people home feeling that they have not seen enough so they want to come back. Koma and I take a contrary view. Regardless of how short or long an encounter might be, we hope that it is full and stands on its own.

 Bither: Have you and Koma done special physical or mental training leading up to this work?

 Eiko: We imagine being there and that is our preparation. Fruits, vegetables, and fishes perhaps anticipate being seen and eaten and thus shine.

 Bither: How would you describe your relationship or history with the Twin Cities?

 Eiko: We appreciate the sense of knowing a place, and us being a part of its history. It is exciting for us to encounter viewers at various points in their lives and ours. There is a sizable audience in the Twin Cities who remember and communicate their experiences of seeing us perform. That time-invested viewership, granted often to writers and filmmakers, is relatively rare for performing artists.

 Bither: What are you most looking forward to discovering?

 Eiko: We want to go somewhere barren, and we want to see if people would also like to be there with us.

We hope you will join us for this free event Thursday October 28th at 7:00pm in the McGuire Theater. Talking Dance is the only time the artists will speak publicly about their work in the Twin Cities, so be sure not to miss it!

Dark Matters SpeakEasy

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Visual arts tour guide Barbara Davey led the SpeakEasy last Saturday for Kidd Pivot Frankfurt RM’s Dark Matters. Here’s her breakdown of the main subjects of the nearly hour-long discussion: 1. Name of work. What is dark matter from a physics perspective and how did what we saw relate to that. 2. Narrative and the [...]

Visual arts tour guide Barbara Davey led the SpeakEasy last Saturday for Kidd Pivot Frankfurt RM’s Dark Matters.

Here’s her breakdown of the main subjects of the nearly hour-long discussion:

1. Name of work. What is dark matter from a physics perspective and how did what we saw relate to that.

2. Narrative and the break from the more narrative first half to the more pure dance in the second act.

3. Contact Improv and other types of dances used or referred to (dance history elements).

4. How the sets removed layers and pushed boundaries as the dance went on.

5. Music. Seemed well liked but there was a wondering if live vs recorded music would make it feel warmer/more human.

6. Lighting and the way figures (and shadows) appeared and disappeared.

7. The surprise when the last shadow stripped and was a woman.

8. The sheer athleticism and beauty of the dance/dancers.

9. The puppet and puppetry.

Feel free to add additional comments.

The next SpeakEasy will be for Betontanc/Umka.lv’s Show Your Face!: the first week of Out There, Saturday January 8, 2011.

Young Players Dig Brad Mehldau

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The first week of October, Dave Douglas wasn’t only getting ready for his performance in the McGuire Theater, he was also leading a 2-day workshop for some of the Twin Cities’ best high school Jazz musicians, at MacPhail Center for Music. Jazz writer, editor, and photographer Andrea Canter wrote a great blog about it here. We asked [...]

Dave Douglas leading an improvisation workshop at MacPhail Center for Music

The first week of October, Dave Douglas wasn’t only getting ready for his performance in the McGuire Theater, he was also leading a 2-day workshop for some of the Twin Cities’ best high school Jazz musicians, at MacPhail Center for Music. Jazz writer, editor, and photographer Andrea Canter wrote a great blog about it here.

We asked the students participating in the workshop to share with us the YouTube links of Jazz songs that they like. Two students picked songs by Brad Mehldau, who happens to be playing here next month.

Here are three selections from students in MacPhail’s Dakota Combo, an audition-required Jazz ensemble led by Adam Linz (of Fat Kid Wednesdays).

Quentin, the Combo’s pianist, recommended the Brad Mehldau Trio playing Paul Simon’s “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.”

The video is in two parts:

Emerson, the Combo’s drummer, recommended the Brad Mehldau Trio covering Radiohead’s “Knives Out”:

And Caitlin, one of the Combo’s bassists, recommended John Coltrane performing ”Naima” July 27, 1965 in Antibes:


Kidd Pivot: Why Does Dark Matter?

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Because without it we wouldn’t have light. We wouldn’t have celestial, amber-hued bodies formulating new languages with one another’s limbs. In other words, we wouldn’t have the final section of Crystal Pite’s Dark Matters. (And thank goodness we have all the sections that came before.) “What’s the verdict?” we are asked by a voice-over as [...]

Because without it we wouldn’t have light. We wouldn’t have celestial, amber-hued bodies formulating new languages with one another’s limbs. In other words, we wouldn’t have the final section of Crystal Pite’s Dark Matters. (And thank goodness we have all the sections that came before.)

“What’s the verdict?” we are asked by a voice-over as the piece opens with a moving spotlight, guiding our eyes to the nooks and crannies of a decadent set while allowing us to catch glimpses of creepy black clad figures, or did we?

A man sits at a table. Work things are strewn about: pieces of wood, a ruler, scissors. A lamp hangs low and along with the sound score, helps define the intimacy of the scene: a loner working, creating, introducing body parts of what is to become a puppet.

A sweet dance ensues, a pas de deux between creator and plaything. The puppet, manipulated by the figures in black, climbs and manipulates. Our perception is suspended like the puppet itself. Our eyes move in and out of focus, at times forgetting that the puppet isn’t real. It is wonderful that this is how dance is introduced into the work.

As vignettes progress, the puppet becomes increasingly volatile and dangerous. It has a mind of its own, childish and with unselfconscious volatility and also regret.

This intimate and lonely world is torn apart; the set is itself a sort of puppet as it comes apart at the seams. The puppeteers walk the earth. They impose abuse on one another and manipulate our creator/loner into a sort of puppet half-life.

The second act begins with a solo, a figure in black against a white floor. The murky lighting feels a little dangerous, like driving at dusk, transitioning from day to night.

Kidd Pivot, Dark Matters

Photo by Dean Buscher

Five dancers in pedestrian clothes appear and begin a group dance, causally linking and detaching, affecting one another in close and far proximity. Movement is generated from unlikely body parts. Torsos are deeply investigated, contracted into doubled over-ness while legs and feet articulate into and out of the floor. The movement is both loose-limbed and specific. There is a repeated gesture of clasping the head. Hands grab limbs out of necessity, instigating subsequent movements. Duets and solos are laced with references, reminding us of that puppet duet and the specificity of articulating from strings attached to joints.

Near the end a male dancer performs a solo that has for the first time elements of audience awareness. He confronts us head-on as the voice-over returns, asking us about the verdict and telling us that The Book of Fate is closed to us. Earlier we saw the word Fake replace Fate and so the shadow of that layer is there too, like the negative of an image. The dark matters.

The final duet is sublime in its simplicity. It is the paring down of all that came before. It is two bodies, two souls really, communing. Our hero/puppet creator is back, guiding and allowing himself to be guided. Power gently shifts back and forth. It is mutual curiosity and discovery, this time without the childlike irresponsibility.

The final image is burned onto my retinal permanent collection of perfect moments.

Driving home the moon was exactly half. I’ll remember that the next time it’s full.

Studying Why Dark Matters

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The Science and Culture in America class from the Minneapolis College of Art and Design, taught by Neal Jahren, has been assigned questions (see below) in response to Kidd Pivot’s production of Dark Matters. Their previous classwork has examined how scientific concepts have been applied to visual and conceptual artworks. They are interested in how [...]

The Science and Culture in America class from the Minneapolis College of Art and Design, taught by Neal Jahren, has been assigned questions (see below) in response to Kidd Pivot’s production of Dark Matters. Their previous classwork has examined how scientific concepts have been applied to visual and conceptual artworks. They are interested in how these ideas apply to performance works, such as Dark Matters.

Kid Pivott Frankfurt RM, "Dark Matters"

Photo by Dean Buscher


Some of the questions students will address include:

- What features in the performance did you recognize as relating to the physical concept of “Dark Matter?”
- Did you find deeper information about dark matter the more the piece developed?
- How do you feel about the choreographers’ interpretation of dark matter in this artistic work?
- How much were you challenged by or interested in an idea or message in the work?
- Was there one moment in the performance that is most memorable to you, and why?

This post is open to all to comment on and answer along with the students.

Crystal Pite’s Choreographic Attack

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Vancouver’s version of the City Pages, the Georgia Straight, published a great article/interview earlier this year with Kidd Pivot mastermind (and Vancouver native) Crystal Pite. She explains that for Dark Matters (opening Thursday at the Walker) she “drew on the ideas of the kuroko stage hands and the Bunraku puppeteers of old Japanese theatre. ’They’re these [...]

Vancouver’s version of the City Pages, the Georgia Straight, published a great article/interview earlier this year with Kidd Pivot mastermind (and Vancouver native) Crystal Pite. She explains that for Dark Matters (opening Thursday at the Walker) she “drew on the ideas of the kuroko stage hands and the Bunraku puppeteers of old Japanese theatre. ’They’re these anonymous black-clad characters that move puppets,’ she explains. ‘You see them there as an audience but you kind of block them out so you can enjoy the magic.’”

Here’s a trailer for Dark Matters (with footage of these anonymous black-clad characters):

Go here for a great video of Crystal Pite talking about the work that would become Dark Matters while it was still in-creation at the Nederland Dans Theater. The video features additional footage of  these shadow characters, which might remind Walker dance-goers of John Jasperse’s variation on that theme here in May. Crystal Pite in the Vancouver Sun says, “a shadow does not walk, it slides silently with us in perfect unison, dimensionally translated, effortless and benign.”

With its hieratic movements reminiscent of fencing or a sort of gothic breakdance, its puppetry narrative, and striking score throughout, Dark Matters promises to be a relentless journey into the heart of modern macabre, and a chance to see one of the more versatile choreographers working today; Crystal Pite somehow made time to also choreograph a ballet for 38 dancers during the creation of Dark Matters (!)

Highly anticipated.

Tickets.

FYI: Crystal Pite’s company is called Kidd Pivot Frankfurt RM because it has been the resident company at Frankfurt cultural center Künstlerhaus Mousonturm since spring 2010. Crystal Pite’s company Kidd Pivot is based jointly in Vancouver and Frankfurt.

Spark of Being: Retelling a Literary Masterpiece

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Could it be possible, that after 192 years, dozens of movies, television shows, critical theses and innumerably terrible Boris Karloff latex masks, that anything new could be said about the Frankenstein story? Dave Douglas and Bill Morrison certainly think so. Utilizing bleak found footage of early 20th century avant-garde films and combining it with experimental [...]

Cover art from "Spark of Being"

Could it be possible, that after 192 years, dozens of movies, television shows, critical theses and innumerably terrible Boris Karloff latex masks, that anything new could be said about the Frankenstein story? Dave Douglas and Bill Morrison certainly think so.

Utilizing bleak found footage of early 20th century avant-garde films and combining it with experimental jazz and ambient sonics to retell Mary Shelly’s Prometheus, Spark of Being is a wondrous, sensory overload. It is a magnificent double entendre that at once demands attention from its audience and yet does not rely on it for its success. Douglas’ Keystone group wholly compliments Morrison’s black-and-white montages, while a story, which is ingrained in our public consciousness is given fresh, yet intentionally directionless, legs.

The film itself is ice; cold washes of found footage told in chapters to break up both the narrative construct of the film and Douglas’ compositions. The opening sequence, “The Captain’s Story,” follows a clipper ship cutting its way through frozen, arctic waters, while icebergs dance in the background under the indifferent gaze of the ship’s captain. The sense of isolation is fully realized by Douglas’ muted trumpet work spitting over the imagery. The scene plays like an early Soviet propaganda film, complete with sailors attempting to revive a drowned comrade. The use of ice as a metaphor is omnipresent, appearing in nearly every episode.

The story itself moves along at a brisk pace. Though the chapters are given overtly obvious titles, the scenes within are much less structured. “A Promising Start” begins with synths reminiscent of Kraftwerk’s “Mitternacht” (courtesy of Geoff Countryman) while images of blood cultures in Petri dishes are splashed across the screen.

It is on “The Doctor’s Creation” that the visceral experience truly begins to take hold. What starts out as a lonely oarsman traversing a lifeless, burned out landscape is given a propulsive bass synth line by Adam Benjamin. Electric tendrils splash across the screen as Douglas and saxophonist Marcus Strickland start to truly belt it out. Douglas’ muted trumpet progressions land like napalm as the electricity onscreen gives way to static fuzz; it is Pollack at light speed. The scene belongs, though, to Gene Lake, whose drum work keeps such amazingly tight control over the chaos.

The following vignettes focus more on austere visuals rather than on a consistent musical form. Color displays of the Creature’s world coming into focus on “The Creature’s Education” show a pantone dream of butterflies and the monotony of human life. A Tim Hecker-type ambient smear follows two naked lovers running through a field in “Observations of Romantic Love.” It is a stunning moment of mournful joy, wholly capturing the concept of love through the eyes of something that has never experienced it.

The film inevitably takes a turn and, with “The Doctor’s Wedding,” returns to its oppressive grayscale palate. The scene is nearly nihilistic as a joyless wedding procession gives way to monotone Bavarian dancing. “The Creature Confronts His Creator” is essentially a long introduction for the penultimate act, “The Doctor Flees.” It is a chase scene emphasized by staccato cymbal and drum work. The imagery returns to the ship on icy waters, but this time Douglas has put his mute aside.  This is the only moment where Keystone truly opens up. Before the playing was withheld, controlled. Muted tones play over quick rhythms. Here, though, the sound is full: Strong chords, loud and shaking vibrato, sustained whole notes, and keys flooding the theater. It is powerful and huge. “The Creature’s Pursuit” follows, and Douglas puts back in his mute. It is a weary song, with a man running sled dogs. The final scene is the same as the first, with the ship’s crew unsuccessfully reviving the drown sailor. Keystone fades out, and ‘The End” flashes on-screen.

Douglas and Morrison strive to attain the near impossible: retell a universally known and exhausted story in a way that has not yet been imagined. The creativity and cleverness of Morrison’s editing and the chaotic restrain of Douglas’ ensemble let the audience fill in the gaps of a loose outline, rather than using straight-forward and rote storytelling to force-feed them something they have already eaten. It is really the only way that Frankenstein could be retold. At this point, the story is so obvious, it has its own Halloween industry.

What has been lost over the years is its actual meaning. Frankenstein is a discourse on humanity, not a simplistic mad scientist/monster scenario. The Creature is a wholly formed being but has the disadvantage of being devoid of prejudicial feelings and cultural boundaries. He is seen as a monster because he has no side to choose and no understanding of why he needs to choose one. In the hands of Douglas and Morrison, this story seems amazingly fresh, vital, topical, and necessary. It’s exhilarating, weary, and thought provoking. When was the last time anybody could say that about a Frankenstein retelling?

Studying the Frankenstein Myth

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We invited Neal Jahren and his students from the Minneapolis College of Art and Design to respond to Dave Douglas & Bill Morrison’s production of Spark of Being. The class is Science and Culture in America. The Frankenstein myth, where technological innovation creates unintended consequences that then must be addressed by decision makers and society, [...]

We invited Neal Jahren and his students from the Minneapolis College of Art and Design to respond to Dave Douglas & Bill Morrison’s production of Spark of Being. The class is Science and Culture in America. The Frankenstein myth, where technological innovation creates unintended consequences that then must be addressed by decision makers and society, apparently resonated with some of the material they are discussing in the class. They are interested in how ideas they have discussed in classroom applies to Spark of Being.

Some of the questions students will address include:

- In what ways does human and social creativity contribute to the risks presented in the Frankenstein myth?
- How can creativity contribute to resolving or minimizing those risks?
- What specific features of the film and what in the music compositions brought the themes in the performance home for you?
- How did the two mediums strengthen the theme?
- What was left up to the imagination?
- What was missing?
- What did you discover?

Feel free to comment on this post and answer along with the students too!

Tomorrow night’s Spark of Being: a jazz concert with a film

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Tomorrow night the Walker-commissioned Spark of Being will be performed in the McGuire Theater by Dave Douglas and his band Keystone. Fans of Erik Friedlander’s Block Ice & Propane performance last year will probably find much to love with Spark of Being, because both pieces feature film by Bill Morrison. However, tomorrow night’s evening length film [...]

Tomorrow night the Walker-commissioned Spark of Being will be performed in the McGuire Theater by Dave Douglas and his band Keystone. Fans of Erik Friedlander’s Block Ice & Propane performance last year will probably find much to love with Spark of Being, because both pieces feature film by Bill Morrison. However, tomorrow night’s evening length film was developed in conjunction with Dave Douglas’ ongoing process of music composition; in contrast to film footage being used as accompaniment to music, tomorrow night’s piece is more of a cross-pollination, with the music heard and the film seen being inseparably involved in each other’s creation. As Douglas said in a San Jose Mercury News article (unfortunately no longer available online) “The whole thing from its genesis was a parallel construction.”

The article also has a great story on how Morrison and Douglas met:

[Morrison] and Douglas first met in an earlier phase of Morrison’s life, when he was a dishwasher at New York’s Village Vanguard jazz club in the early 1990s. “I wouldn’t have done a dishwashing job anywhere else,” Morrison says. “The dishwasher had a heightened status at the Vanguard. The dressing room is in the kitchen, and the dishwasher is the only non-musician, non-owner who could be in the dressing room. It was a wonderful job. I ended up going in on my off nights as well. It afforded me a chance to meet these other great artists.

Dave Douglas’ composition and Bill Morrison’s found-footage film both used the Frankenstein story as loose inspiration.

Morrison: "...early expeditions to the South Pole featured footage of icebound ships and that's how Shelley's novel begins." (still from Spark of Being)

Star Tribune has a great feature on Spark of Being also, with this to say about the performance tomorrow night:

Douglas…found that performing the film straight through can be “so intense that it might be nice to have a break in the middle.” In Toronto, he inserted “a short segment where we just play the score without the film and then the lights go back down and the audience sees the rest of the film,” an experiment he will repeat on Thursday. This time, Morrison will be on hand to provide his feedback on how it works.

Here’s the trailer for Spark of Being’s premiere at Stanford earlier this year:

Tickets are still available and the show begins at 8 pm. Also, for the first 40 people who come to the McGuire Theater tomorrow night, we have music download cards featuring a cut from every musician/music group in the now underway 2010-11 Performing Arts season.  For those of you who have already received a download card, make sure to redeem your code soon. The links will expire mid-October.

Free Eiko & Koma performances Saturday, October 2

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Eiko & Koma will be kicking off their two-month engagement with the Walker tomorrow! Come see a free performance of Raven at either 11:00 am or 1:00 pm, in the McGuire Theater. Eiko Otake will be having a Q+A with the audience after both shows, and we’ll be having a SpeakEasy after both shows also, with [...]

Eiko & Koma will be kicking off their two-month engagement with the Walker tomorrow!

Come see a free performance of Raven at either 11:00 am or 1:00 pm, in the McGuire Theater. Eiko Otake will be having a Q+A with the audience after both shows, and we’ll be having a SpeakEasy after both shows also, with Walker tour guide Mary Dew facilitating and local choreographers Chris Schlichting (at 11 am) and Carl Flink (1 pm) joining in on the conversation as well.

Also upcoming: 

Thursday, October 21, Eiko Otake will be leading a Delicious Movement workshop designed for people with no prior dance experience/expertise. $6

 Thursday, October 28, as part of Target Free Thursday Night, Eiko & Koma will be sitting down with Performing Arts Curator Philip Bither for a Talking Dance interview.

And beginning November 1 (through November 30) Naked begins in Gallery 2.  Naked is a dance/visual art installation in which Eiko & Koma inhabit the Walker’s Event Horizon exhibition. Tuesdays-Sundays Eiko & Koma will be performing 11 am-5 pm; Thursdays they will be performing 3-9 pm. Naked is free with gallery admission.

photo by Danny Ardiono

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