I know ugly. It’s something that I’ve lived, worn, adored, tasted, smelled and danced. I’ve tried to make it Gorgeous and trendy even. In my 20’s I intentionally chose not to bathe for as long as possible to embody a form of greasy smelly junky ugly. It’s something that I love to talk about especially in live performance. So naturally, I’m excited about M. J.’s Ugly at the Walker Art Center this weekend. But… as I bump into my colleagues that have already seen Ugly this week, no one will talk about it. I’m persistent for a remark, I push, and still, they avert their eyes, raise their hand, or shake their head and say “no, not until you’ve seen it and then we’ll talk.” This kind of silence from nearly ten people is unprecedented in a community that fearlessly trades critical and complimentary remarks like baseball cards. (I love this about this community, by the way.) So, I’m off to the Walker tonight, to have a hand in Ugly, as a perplexed yet intrigued audience member.
Be warned, I will not shower.