Fish Tales, Rivers, and other Female Parts


Ocean and sea--they are different. Water, rain, rivers, lagoons, not lakes, they are for the dead. Springs and waterfalls, creeks and geysers. Tributaries.

"In an abundance of water, 'tis a fool whose thirsty.'" Marley.

Drawing, up through the metatarsal and on through the gaping wound of black soul, one finds a peculiar lack of lack. All common sense data points to the disturbing "fact" that Africans who disembarked in what later became the United States were brutally stripped of their culture, entering into a Dark Ages from which they have as yet to emerge. Once inside that lack of lack hole, drawing out the breath, preparing for the next shock of contact with the flooring, one senses, with great consternation, that the lack of lack, which could be rage, is in fact, too much.

Rhythms, spaces, images, places, tastes, smells, locations, colors, sites, skins, situations, all different, similar; coded, un-classified History? Nah, striving for the grace of space and sound. Vibration, shape shifting so as not to frighten one into believing in something as lurid as an out of body experience.

Ibeshe Tchula presents her one-woman show, Fish Tales, Rivers, and other Female Parts at RISD on March 11, 2004.

For further information and booking inquiries, please contact veluma@mac.com.

Peace&Time...




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