July 27, 2026

My Terrains Vacants Brief Summary

[I was recently invited by Écotone - Espace d'expérimentation to be part of their Terrains Vacants residency. I was also asked to write a brief summary of my experience, as follows.]

The first thing I noticed was how quiet it was (during the first moments of my first week: March 23-29, 2026.) I always listen to music when I work – and when I’m not working as well – but I didn’t bring any music. I decided to leave my computer at home in order to spend time away from the internet. (As everyone knows, I am much too addicted to the internet.) So… I would spend some time in silence. That seemed like a good enough idea.

In my application I’d proposed I would spend the time trying to come up with an idea for a solo performance. Almost all of my performance work has been made in collaboration with other artists. My motivations to make a solo performance were multiple and questionable. I’ve always found working with other people difficult and might like a break from such difficulties. Funding is increasingly challenging to come by, and less people on stage also means less funds required. But perhaps my main motivation is to make work in which I have the agency and freedom to completely change things in the moment, with no one else relying on me, no one who might be thrown off by any sudden, spontaneous changes.

Sitting there in that empty, very quiet room at the La Cité-des-Hospitalières, I quickly came up with a preliminary idea. I thought of calling it A Personal History of Everything and Everyone. I conceived of it as a kind of “composition in real time.” One version of the idea was built around a table full of objects. Each object would connect to a theme. The performance would consist of me picking up objects at random and speaking about the related theme for each one. I also had a desire to speak about current events, so I wanted there to be enough objects that there would always be one I could connect to any current event on my mind. I had way more ideas for themes than I did for objects. Some of the themes I was interested in speaking about included: Oil, Music, Prize Culture, Failure, Books, Chronic Pain, A World Without Money, Solidarity, Depression, Travel, Friendship, Cooking, Regret, Nature, Animism, Honesty, Repair and Liveness. People familiar with my work might notice that many of these themes are the ones I find myself returning to over and over again.

When I came back for my second week (June 15-21, 2026), I began, conventionally enough, by looking over my notes from the first week, and was fascinated by how I now had almost no interest in any of my ideas from the previous round. Upon further reflection, this seemed to me indicative of a larger pattern within my artistic practice. I have a great deal of difficulty staying interested in any idea for very long. In my normal artistic work-life, some outside factor forces me to commit to one idea over another: there are collaborators on the project who I feel a responsibility to, or we get a grant, or I tell people about the idea and they encourage me to pursue it, or we are invited to perform somewhere. Each of things (and others) forces me to commit to an idea rather than abandoning it. Since I basically believe that any idea can result in good work, in the end I’m not so certain it matters which idea I choose. If I had the idea in the first place it probably means I have at least some interest in doing it. Any idea can result in good work, it just depends what you do with it.

I then switched tactics, focusing on the more fundamental question of whether I genuinely wanted to make a solo performance and, if so, why. My basic feeling was that I did and here are the reasons I came up with:
- Freedom to change things on the fly.
- Freedom to speak about current events.
- Honesty about who I am and what I’m able to do.
- A preference for doing something that’s less good, yet more true to me, versus doing something that’s better but further away from my true abilities.
- Making performances cheaply and quickly.
- I want to be alone.

I still don’t yet have an idea for a specific solo performance I want to do, but if I ever come up with such an idea I will likely do it. I have a feeling it might have something to do with being old, and for that to work I still might have to get a bit older. I consider the idea that when the rest of my beard turns white, I will begin the process.

In my day-to-day life, I already spend a great deal of time alone, consumed by introspective thoughts. In a way, this residency formalized this process. There was definitely something existential about it. I don’t really make art for myself, I make art because I have a desire to convey something to an audience. Paradoxically, I find I am most able to convey something to an audience if I follow, as closely as possible, my own personal artistic desires. I now realize that a large part of the Terrains Vacants residency was about being in a space, over time, without any specific goals. I’ve always been fond of the John Cage quote: “The goal is not to have a goal.” I’ve always felt lost, and this residency allowed me to reconnect with my ongoing feeling of existential lostness. And so it continues.



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