sketchbook: HJ Giles Drone

i went and saw a play last night. i open to write this post but then open messenger first and write a message. then i move back here.
i see so little live art. yet, if i want to do too i need to know it a little better.
besides a drone with a camera that was first watching the screen and then turned and projected us, the audience to the screen, it featured a loop pedal and a filing cabinet. they stuck their head into the filing cabinet, straddling their body atop and talking into the cabinet. i loved that. it was perfect.
the drone had a mother who told her early to smile, smile, smile. she got a new workplace, a breakdown, the watched rhinos as a protection scheme, then got a cat.
all the while, we would forget that her job was to carry bombs.
the themes repeated and the registers kept changing. i had seen their work before, it was largely angry work; this was angry too, and sly, and funny and seductive.
the drone wore a long silver dress, tried some sequined fine shoes for some part but was generally barefooted. i found myself keeping staring at her rather beautiful nipples (and delighted in the disobedience of not showing nipples in the UK).
— that shifting of body, narrative, register and object/subject was so well done. i really liked that. i had hoped for that and it was really good.
we had some good show before and after conversation too.
more of these things.