To spark discussion, the Walker invites Twin Cities artists and critics to write reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Here, artist and writer Malakai Greiner shares their perspective on last night’s performance of JACK & by Kaneza Schaal in collaboration with Cornell Alston and Christopher Myers.
Imagination is responsible for so much of our everyday functioning: the ability to aspire, to see into the future, to dream of life in all its boundless mundanity and spectacle. The theft of this kind of imagination, of dreaming, is a feature baked into the criminal justice system, which is disproportionately populated by black and brown people. The trauma inflicted upon people by the carceral state makes recovering one’s dreaming a seemingly nebulous and slippery task. JACK & tells a story of dreaming deferred by the American criminal justice system, and of a search for the ingredients needed to get those dreams back. Here’s my recipe for JACK &:
1 cup sugar
6 tablespoons of everyday sensations
3 cups of hopscotch and coattails
1 whole personal assumption about those who have been/are currently incarcerated and the criminal justice system
2 tablespoons of the whirling pit at a Bad Brains show
3/4 cups of stank
curtsies and bows
vigorous shakes of the leg
everything you don’t think you need to know
1 song
First, clean, skin, and debone your personal assumptions about those who have been/are currently incarcerated in the criminal justice system and tenderize with your tool of choice. Lay your deboned and flattened assumptions gently in the compost bin and let them decompose. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Try gathering everything you don’t think you need to know. Try to know. Knead your knowing, slowly and deliberately. Place your knowing in a glass bowl and check back for any new developments—after two hours it should have risen to twice its size. In a separate bowl, add everyday sensations. You may choose whatever combination of quotidian wonders suits you best, but JACK & may recommend rain, sunshine, intimacy, love, diamonds, and pearls. In the same bowl add hopscotch and coattails, the whirling pit at a Bad Brains show, sugar, and some vigorous shakes of the leg. Whip in the stank, and add curtsies and bows to taste. Mix well, and pour into the beautifully distinct and varied formal languages of JACK &’s creative team. Place in the oven and bake. Check back in on your knowing. How is it rising? You should start to hear a song your sleeping body could tap its toes to. A dreamy fog will fill your kitchen, but that is a good sign—keep on the look out for bridging streams of orange, white, and blue light. When it’s all over, leave the swirling layer of baking dust on your clothes and enjoy some cake. On your way home, hum along with your fellow elevator passengers.
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