For the New Genres class, Becca had people follow a path through the woods behind the art building, reading notes that had been tacked to trees, as sort of markers on the path. Or creators of the path.
She had people walk along the path a slight distance from each other, so everyone could have a kind of “private” stroll through the words. The etiquette was a little weird and provisional. I was behind Russell and I kept slowing down, because I didn’t want to intrude on his space.
These pics are somewhat out of order, and very incomplete. To piece the words together into a coherent thought, you’ll have to venture into the woods yourself. I doubt the papers will be there for long; I have a feeling Becca won’t want her work to turn into litter. Though the idea of the papers being left, and the sentences decomposing via the whims of rain and wind, is somewhat appealing.
But even if the papers are gone, it’s a nice walk. I haven’t done much exploring back there, so I saw a few things that were new to me — between one piece of a sentence and the next, sometimes finding an interpolated backyard.
At the end of the path, there were closed curtains. Some curls of smoke wafted up from behind them. When everyone arrived, the curtains were parted, and a brief performance took place. I didn’t have a camera with me at the time, so I have no visual record of the performance itself. I’m in the mood to just leave it at that.