Clowning in the New Year
It happens that you are in a city having decided not to be in another, and it happens that on the first day of this lucky year you board a tram, enter one of the few open establishments, take a seat next to sisters who frequent the venue weekly, hang over the side of the balcony and watch a sad clown. They say the first day works as a sort of spell on the other 364 days in the collection. It seems fitting that a murderous, pathetic clown was singing himself ragged as this Santozeum agent thought about our first one-artist show – all burnt, lumbering, decaying, arresting, passionately emoting its own non-melodious cries into the ore-source of these island investigations. We may laugh at the end or come back as the opera-loving twins. Schedules and stages are set.