Desert Body Creep feeds on the corpse of a post, post-everything world. Turning fear and horror into an imaginary force, it explores the transition from dead to undead, proposing a strategy towards new forms of life.
Desert Body Creep falls in slow motion through black holes, plot holes and worm holes, only to arrive again exactly where we already were, where everything is the same as always, yet totally unrecognisable. A dance which could be happening in a future so distant that it is impossible to predict, or in a past so deep that it is impossible to remember, or a present so real that it becomes completely inconceivable. It’s familiar yet mystical, a bit like de ja vu, or like a pop song that you hear for the first time yet already know. Desert Body Creep is the epicness of Dune on the scale of a gummi worm, set somewhere that’s halfway to nowhere on its way from everywhere. It’s like a coming of age through a past life regression, stuck in a lucid dreaming that’s sometimes funny but sometimes horrific, like when Beyonce poses a question that she already knows the answer to – what kind of dream is this? A sweet dream and a beautiful nightmare.
It’s a bit like the moment you re-watch a horror film from a decade ago and the cgi is so ancient that what you remember as terrifying is now kind of humorous. You don’t feel scared, but you might still have a nightmare later that week.
Desert Body Creep insists on the persistence of imagination even when there is nothing left to imagine. Everything’s been done already, and undone and redone, deconstructed, reimagined, rebranded, remixed, come back into fashion and left again and then come back again. In a time where nothing is surprising, yet everything is uncertain, Desert Body Creep uses the limits of our imagination to expand what is already there.
More like a zombie than a pheonix, Desert Body Creep proposes that the only way to keep transforming in world of contemporary decay is to keep on decomposing, fight rot with rot, descend into the darkness with a light touch, and creep towards a fragile future by casting old fears as productive forces.
16-17 January 2018 – COIL Festival, Performance Space New York (PS122), NYC – https://performancespacenewyork.org/shows/desert-body-creep/
22 & 24 February 2017 – Asia-Pacific Triennial of Performing Arts – XO State – Arts Centre – Melbourne – https://www.asiatopa.com.au/xo-state
24-28 January 2017 – Reckless Acts Festival -Perth Institute Contemporary Art – Perth – http://pica.org.au/show/reckless-acts-desert-body-creep/
17-22 May 2016 – Next Wave Festival – Northcote Town Hall – Melbourne – http://2016.nextwave.org.au/desert-body-creep
22-25 June 2016 – Afterglow Festival – PACT – Sydney – http://www.pact.net.au/2016/05/desert-body-creep/
Photos by Zan Wimberley