PRESS
When the Body Is a Canvas, Accented With Paint or Peanuts
written by Gia Kourlas, The New York Times
November 14, 2017
The choreographer Yvonne Meier can turn a tomato into theater. With an agile imagination and breathtaking defiance of convention, she transforms ordinary objects — Ms. Meier loves a good hardware store — into tools for artistic expression. On Friday night at the Invisible Dog Art Center, she did just that.
There was a fantastical edge to her double bill of “Durch Nacht und Nebel (By Night and Fog)” and “Durch Dick und Duenn (Through Thick and Thin),” presented by Invisible Dog and Danspace Project. The companion works reframed Ms. Meier’s 2016 solo in which she used her body as a canvas. The raw, industrial setting of the Invisible Dog provided the right ambience for Ms. Meier’s brand of experimentation: Covered in Band-Aids, she stoically jiggled her flesh, the first of several shape-shiftings of the night.
She also used objects to transform other people into art. (The show’s costume, prop and scenic design consultant and fabricator was Esther Neff.) After Ms. Meier’s solo bled into the group work, the performers Lorene Bouboushian and Lisa Kusanagi emerged as superheroes out of Ms. Meier’s bizarre playbook.
There was Ms. Kusanagi as a wolf, dancing out the lyrics to a song called “Diggin’ My Grave,” and later posing provocatively in a costume covered in peanuts. (She snacked, comically, as she moved.) Ms. Bouboushian, echoing Ms. Meier’s original solo, wore an orange bodysuit covered with tiny plastic babies and then appeared in all black as a menacing fly.
The mood was light and lively, as were the short videos in which toy babies engaged in sex acts with butter and tomatoes. The backdrop, later revealed, was a lattice affixed with rows of actual tomatoes. The question of the night was, What would happen to those tomatoes? Would Ms. Meier stage a food fight against a defenseless audience?
Instead, Ms. Kusanagi and Ms. Bouboushian, with the help of a pitching machine, shot rocks at the tomatoes; Ms. Meier took a rake to them. There was the right amount of lunacy, but for Ms. Meier, it seemed a little tame, a little too beholden by choreographic structure. Despite all those toy babies having sex, the evening, at just 45 minutes, felt like a quickie.
https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/14/arts/dance/yvonne-meier-jillian-sweeney.html
written by Gia Kourlas, The New York Times
November 14, 2017
The choreographer Yvonne Meier can turn a tomato into theater. With an agile imagination and breathtaking defiance of convention, she transforms ordinary objects — Ms. Meier loves a good hardware store — into tools for artistic expression. On Friday night at the Invisible Dog Art Center, she did just that.
There was a fantastical edge to her double bill of “Durch Nacht und Nebel (By Night and Fog)” and “Durch Dick und Duenn (Through Thick and Thin),” presented by Invisible Dog and Danspace Project. The companion works reframed Ms. Meier’s 2016 solo in which she used her body as a canvas. The raw, industrial setting of the Invisible Dog provided the right ambience for Ms. Meier’s brand of experimentation: Covered in Band-Aids, she stoically jiggled her flesh, the first of several shape-shiftings of the night.
She also used objects to transform other people into art. (The show’s costume, prop and scenic design consultant and fabricator was Esther Neff.) After Ms. Meier’s solo bled into the group work, the performers Lorene Bouboushian and Lisa Kusanagi emerged as superheroes out of Ms. Meier’s bizarre playbook.
There was Ms. Kusanagi as a wolf, dancing out the lyrics to a song called “Diggin’ My Grave,” and later posing provocatively in a costume covered in peanuts. (She snacked, comically, as she moved.) Ms. Bouboushian, echoing Ms. Meier’s original solo, wore an orange bodysuit covered with tiny plastic babies and then appeared in all black as a menacing fly.
The mood was light and lively, as were the short videos in which toy babies engaged in sex acts with butter and tomatoes. The backdrop, later revealed, was a lattice affixed with rows of actual tomatoes. The question of the night was, What would happen to those tomatoes? Would Ms. Meier stage a food fight against a defenseless audience?
Instead, Ms. Kusanagi and Ms. Bouboushian, with the help of a pitching machine, shot rocks at the tomatoes; Ms. Meier took a rake to them. There was the right amount of lunacy, but for Ms. Meier, it seemed a little tame, a little too beholden by choreographic structure. Despite all those toy babies having sex, the evening, at just 45 minutes, felt like a quickie.
https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/14/arts/dance/yvonne-meier-jillian-sweeney.html
IMPRESSIONS: Yvonne Meier's "Durch Dick und Duenn" and "Durch Nacht und Nebel" at The Invisible Dog
written by Trina Mannino, The Dance Enthusiast
November 12, 2017
In her latest works at The Invisible Dog, Yvonne Meier and her collaborators paint — at one point, the choreographer literally smears black pigment on her body — a world where the perverse, mundane, and absurd coalesce. What continues to be refreshing about Meier, the Swiss artist who has been working in New York since 1979, is her lack of self-seriousness. What you see is what you get. No irony. No bullshit.The solo Durch Nacht und Nebel (By Night and Fog) and the trio Durch Dick und Duenn (Through Thick and Thin) bleed together like stories in a Hans Christian Andersen fairytale anthology. We’re transported to places that suggest a forlorn junkyard, a sinister forest, and a luscious tomato patch. Mortality, desire, and oblique sexuality permeate Andersen’s tales. Meier, too, distills these themes in her own whacky way. Yet, unlike the author’s infantilizing female characters, the artists here are in control of their own adventures. They explore, nosh food, and gesticulate freely. They inhabit zany characters, including a grave-digging wolf, a pestering fly, and a woman wearing a unitard covered in tiny plastic babies.
In the brief Durch Nacht und Nebel, Meier emanates power in a long fur coat and bare feet. While the coat makes her look like a wayward Siberian oligarch, it’s her inscrutability that makes the artist so magnetic in her tasks. She hauls sacks of rocks and pours them into a pile. Using an electric razor, she shears her coat. She then takes it off to reveal her semi-naked body, which is striped with Band-Aids. Rather than a vulnerable moment, it’s an affirming one as her breasts, thighs, and jowls unceremoniously jiggle. Crawling to the rock mound, Meier dons a scuba mask and searches among the rubble. When she finds what she’s looking for — two whole egg shells — she bites into them with satisfaction.
Impulses and inventive costumes strike again in Durch Dick und Duenn. Lisa Kusanagi wears a bodysuit coated in peanuts, which she has trouble taking off. Frayed shells crunch beneath her feet as she tries to shimmy out of the constricting onesie. Eventually, the performer resorts to eating the nuts off her body. Later, Kusanagi and Lorene Bouboushian, wearing lumpy unitards, launch rocks at the hanging installation of tomatoes from baseball pitching machines.
Stop motion films, which play between vignettes, feature plastic tiny baby dolls that frolic in I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!, copulate, and shit tomatoes stems. These moments remind me of catching a child eating gum off the floor or watching someone pick their nose on the subway. They simultaneously elicit laughter, fascination, and disbelief.
In these two companion works, Meier and her collaborators exhibit behavior that society deems as inappropriate or unseemly — especially for women. They eat impulsively, unabashedly display their bodies, and make juvenile movies. But through these absurd acts, Meier points to how silly and arbitrary certain cultural constructs are.
Even after decades of art making, Meier continues to march to beat of her own drum. She doesn’t need to be fêted or a red carpet rolled out — though certainly deserved. In fact, a floor covered in peanut shells will do more than just fine.
written by Trina Mannino, The Dance Enthusiast
November 12, 2017
In her latest works at The Invisible Dog, Yvonne Meier and her collaborators paint — at one point, the choreographer literally smears black pigment on her body — a world where the perverse, mundane, and absurd coalesce. What continues to be refreshing about Meier, the Swiss artist who has been working in New York since 1979, is her lack of self-seriousness. What you see is what you get. No irony. No bullshit.The solo Durch Nacht und Nebel (By Night and Fog) and the trio Durch Dick und Duenn (Through Thick and Thin) bleed together like stories in a Hans Christian Andersen fairytale anthology. We’re transported to places that suggest a forlorn junkyard, a sinister forest, and a luscious tomato patch. Mortality, desire, and oblique sexuality permeate Andersen’s tales. Meier, too, distills these themes in her own whacky way. Yet, unlike the author’s infantilizing female characters, the artists here are in control of their own adventures. They explore, nosh food, and gesticulate freely. They inhabit zany characters, including a grave-digging wolf, a pestering fly, and a woman wearing a unitard covered in tiny plastic babies.
In the brief Durch Nacht und Nebel, Meier emanates power in a long fur coat and bare feet. While the coat makes her look like a wayward Siberian oligarch, it’s her inscrutability that makes the artist so magnetic in her tasks. She hauls sacks of rocks and pours them into a pile. Using an electric razor, she shears her coat. She then takes it off to reveal her semi-naked body, which is striped with Band-Aids. Rather than a vulnerable moment, it’s an affirming one as her breasts, thighs, and jowls unceremoniously jiggle. Crawling to the rock mound, Meier dons a scuba mask and searches among the rubble. When she finds what she’s looking for — two whole egg shells — she bites into them with satisfaction.
Impulses and inventive costumes strike again in Durch Dick und Duenn. Lisa Kusanagi wears a bodysuit coated in peanuts, which she has trouble taking off. Frayed shells crunch beneath her feet as she tries to shimmy out of the constricting onesie. Eventually, the performer resorts to eating the nuts off her body. Later, Kusanagi and Lorene Bouboushian, wearing lumpy unitards, launch rocks at the hanging installation of tomatoes from baseball pitching machines.
Stop motion films, which play between vignettes, feature plastic tiny baby dolls that frolic in I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!, copulate, and shit tomatoes stems. These moments remind me of catching a child eating gum off the floor or watching someone pick their nose on the subway. They simultaneously elicit laughter, fascination, and disbelief.
In these two companion works, Meier and her collaborators exhibit behavior that society deems as inappropriate or unseemly — especially for women. They eat impulsively, unabashedly display their bodies, and make juvenile movies. But through these absurd acts, Meier points to how silly and arbitrary certain cultural constructs are.
Even after decades of art making, Meier continues to march to beat of her own drum. She doesn’t need to be fêted or a red carpet rolled out — though certainly deserved. In fact, a floor covered in peanut shells will do more than just fine.
Yvonne Meier Explores the Dimensions of the Female Form
written by Elizabeth Zimmer, Village Voice
November 10, 2017
The chaotic sensuality of Yvonne Meier’s work is something to behold. Meier transforms the body (her own blocky, maternal one, and those of other, younger women) into lumpy figures of astonishment, delight, even menace, and reaches into the vegetable and mineral kingdoms, creating sculptural tableaux that attack every one of our senses. By the end of her current 45-minute production, the stage at Invisible Dog is a mess, suffused with the fragrance of fresh tomatoes that have been violated in imaginative ways.The program reprises last year’s solo Durch Nacht und Nebel, allowing it to segue directly into the new Durch Dick und Duenn (Through Thick and Thin), a piece for three women interspersed with snippets of, oh, let’s call it filmed stop-motion pornography for tiny plastic baby dolls, fake butter, blueberries, and tomatoes. We meet a looming wolf, who stalks the space to a recorded blues song, miming the lyrics. We meet Meier again, her body this time covered with more dolls that she tears off and flings across the space. We meet Lisa Kusanagi, in a onesie covered with whole peanuts in the shell that she, too, rips off and tosses around (a sign on the door of the theater warns patrons of the hazards of peanut dust).
A sequence in which Meier is splattered with black goop and then uses it to paint huge sheets of white paper with a mop-size brush segues, as the paper is ripped down and re-posted, into an encounter between a backdrop covered with ripe tomatoes and performers wielding a slingshot and using pitching machines (loaded with baseballs in real life) to hurl more tomatoes at the wall. A woman (Lorene Bouboushian) in a sleek black fat-suit and aviator sunglasses — a sort of glamorous hunchback — crashes through paper stretched on wooden frames, after which female stagehands in green bodysuits toss the crumpled, ripped-up remains out a side window.
In Nacht und Nebel (German for “night and fog”; Meier is Swiss), the choreographer enters in a battered fur that she first attacks with electric clippers, then sheds to reveal her own body, nude but for pink bikini panties and hundreds of adhesive bandages stuck to every part. Meier, who’s borne children, has an ample physique that registers years of experience; we rarely get to see, on the average dance stage, what she’s prepared to share. And we are delighted when the two younger women (Kusanagi and Bouboushian) conclude the show in nude-toned suits that mimic, quite accurately, the sagging contours of Meier’s body.
Most of the packed house goes nuts for this orgy of sloppy fun, a harvest festival of full-frontal female flesh and fresh fruit. One gentleman, who covered his ears during loud passages of electronic sound provided by Chris Cochrane, Kevin Bud Jones, and Chris Laye, pronounced it “puerile,” while another guy was ecstatic, caught up in the visceral, in-your-face body art on display. An extra show has been added Sunday evening. We’ve come a long way since Karen Finley; let yourself go.
https://www.villagevoice.com/2017/11/10/yvonne-meier-explores-the-dimensions-of-the-female-form/
written by Elizabeth Zimmer, Village Voice
November 10, 2017
The chaotic sensuality of Yvonne Meier’s work is something to behold. Meier transforms the body (her own blocky, maternal one, and those of other, younger women) into lumpy figures of astonishment, delight, even menace, and reaches into the vegetable and mineral kingdoms, creating sculptural tableaux that attack every one of our senses. By the end of her current 45-minute production, the stage at Invisible Dog is a mess, suffused with the fragrance of fresh tomatoes that have been violated in imaginative ways.The program reprises last year’s solo Durch Nacht und Nebel, allowing it to segue directly into the new Durch Dick und Duenn (Through Thick and Thin), a piece for three women interspersed with snippets of, oh, let’s call it filmed stop-motion pornography for tiny plastic baby dolls, fake butter, blueberries, and tomatoes. We meet a looming wolf, who stalks the space to a recorded blues song, miming the lyrics. We meet Meier again, her body this time covered with more dolls that she tears off and flings across the space. We meet Lisa Kusanagi, in a onesie covered with whole peanuts in the shell that she, too, rips off and tosses around (a sign on the door of the theater warns patrons of the hazards of peanut dust).
A sequence in which Meier is splattered with black goop and then uses it to paint huge sheets of white paper with a mop-size brush segues, as the paper is ripped down and re-posted, into an encounter between a backdrop covered with ripe tomatoes and performers wielding a slingshot and using pitching machines (loaded with baseballs in real life) to hurl more tomatoes at the wall. A woman (Lorene Bouboushian) in a sleek black fat-suit and aviator sunglasses — a sort of glamorous hunchback — crashes through paper stretched on wooden frames, after which female stagehands in green bodysuits toss the crumpled, ripped-up remains out a side window.
In Nacht und Nebel (German for “night and fog”; Meier is Swiss), the choreographer enters in a battered fur that she first attacks with electric clippers, then sheds to reveal her own body, nude but for pink bikini panties and hundreds of adhesive bandages stuck to every part. Meier, who’s borne children, has an ample physique that registers years of experience; we rarely get to see, on the average dance stage, what she’s prepared to share. And we are delighted when the two younger women (Kusanagi and Bouboushian) conclude the show in nude-toned suits that mimic, quite accurately, the sagging contours of Meier’s body.
Most of the packed house goes nuts for this orgy of sloppy fun, a harvest festival of full-frontal female flesh and fresh fruit. One gentleman, who covered his ears during loud passages of electronic sound provided by Chris Cochrane, Kevin Bud Jones, and Chris Laye, pronounced it “puerile,” while another guy was ecstatic, caught up in the visceral, in-your-face body art on display. An extra show has been added Sunday evening. We’ve come a long way since Karen Finley; let yourself go.
https://www.villagevoice.com/2017/11/10/yvonne-meier-explores-the-dimensions-of-the-female-form/
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Cinematic dance that breaks the rules and moves beyond flirting
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This was the best of 2021 in the theaters according to the Parool criticsHet Parool Amsterdam-based daily newspaper
written by Jacq Algra December 23, 2021 Bushy eyebrows, bumpy costumes, a blue-lipped winter spirit and a landscape with lots of snow. The Japanese Kusanagi Sisters, who are inspired by the French film pioneer George Méliès, among others, combine a sense of humor with an eye for detail. Thanks to Cinedans, we can enjoy their short film at home during the first lockdown. Cheerful. |
D.I.R.T Festival’ Resists Land Grab and Trump Agenda
written by Carla Escoda, KQED Arts
March 30, 2017
With Dance Mission Theater losing its longstanding home on 24th Street as the inexorable gentrification of the Mission district marches on, the third annual D.I.R.T. Festival of Dance in Revolt(ing) Times, a political dance festival hosted by Dance Mission, is taking its theme of “Holding Our Ground” seriously.The theme speaks eloquently not just to the issue of real estate, but also to that of political resistance. If the performance I attended last weekend — barely 24 hours after the defeat of the Trump Administration’s bid to “repeal and replace” Obamacare, and the same day a “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) rally in southern California turned violent — is anything to go by, the mood at D.I.R.T. this coming weekend will be equally strident and feisty.
The diverse artists assembled for D.I.R.T. channel their own anger, fears, frustrations and joys into physical acts – some of provocative beauty. These deserve a life beyond that afforded by the brief, small-scale festival. Though much of the program would very likely make the MAGA crowd see red.
...
A third political theme at this year’s festival is women’s rights. Lisa Kusanagi’s 16 Day Return Policy is an indictment of misogyny by way of a strip-tease gone terribly wrong. Draped in a gold poncho and plowing through an inventory of flirtatious poses and facial expressions, Kusanagi jams her middle finger into her mouth, then her big toe. She turns her back on the audience and shimmies out of her panties from under the poncho.
With many winks over her shoulder, she blithely traipses upstage, continuing to shed more panties along the way in a steady rhythm, leaving a trail of rainbow-colored underwear in her wake. This extraordinary performance takes a grim turn when Kusanagi cowers under the poncho and creeps and stumbles forward, her hair draped over her face. The performer’s undulating finger continues to beckon potential customers, like an aged street beggar.
When Kusanagi finally uncovers her face, only the whites of her eyes are visible, and the lighting lends her an inhuman pallor. The “show” over, she emerges naked from the poncho, dignified and erect, and walks slowly upstage into the deepening gloom. She’s just another woman used, discarded, and forgotten. ...
https://ww2.kqed.org/arts/2017/03/30/d-i-r-t-festival-resists-land-grab-and-trump-agenda/
written by Carla Escoda, KQED Arts
March 30, 2017
With Dance Mission Theater losing its longstanding home on 24th Street as the inexorable gentrification of the Mission district marches on, the third annual D.I.R.T. Festival of Dance in Revolt(ing) Times, a political dance festival hosted by Dance Mission, is taking its theme of “Holding Our Ground” seriously.The theme speaks eloquently not just to the issue of real estate, but also to that of political resistance. If the performance I attended last weekend — barely 24 hours after the defeat of the Trump Administration’s bid to “repeal and replace” Obamacare, and the same day a “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) rally in southern California turned violent — is anything to go by, the mood at D.I.R.T. this coming weekend will be equally strident and feisty.
The diverse artists assembled for D.I.R.T. channel their own anger, fears, frustrations and joys into physical acts – some of provocative beauty. These deserve a life beyond that afforded by the brief, small-scale festival. Though much of the program would very likely make the MAGA crowd see red.
...
A third political theme at this year’s festival is women’s rights. Lisa Kusanagi’s 16 Day Return Policy is an indictment of misogyny by way of a strip-tease gone terribly wrong. Draped in a gold poncho and plowing through an inventory of flirtatious poses and facial expressions, Kusanagi jams her middle finger into her mouth, then her big toe. She turns her back on the audience and shimmies out of her panties from under the poncho.
With many winks over her shoulder, she blithely traipses upstage, continuing to shed more panties along the way in a steady rhythm, leaving a trail of rainbow-colored underwear in her wake. This extraordinary performance takes a grim turn when Kusanagi cowers under the poncho and creeps and stumbles forward, her hair draped over her face. The performer’s undulating finger continues to beckon potential customers, like an aged street beggar.
When Kusanagi finally uncovers her face, only the whites of her eyes are visible, and the lighting lends her an inhuman pallor. The “show” over, she emerges naked from the poncho, dignified and erect, and walks slowly upstage into the deepening gloom. She’s just another woman used, discarded, and forgotten. ...
https://ww2.kqed.org/arts/2017/03/30/d-i-r-t-festival-resists-land-grab-and-trump-agenda/
Midwest Regional Alternative Dance Festival
by Dance Askance with Irene Hsiao, CriticalDance
Finally, Lisa Kusanagi in her 16 Day Return Policy (2014), reminding me of no one less than Mark Morris dancing Arabian in his Hard Nut: a slightly cracked geisha, the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland after too many hits from the hookah, swathed in a golden silk poncho of her own design that looks like butterfly wings or a tent, a lavish bit of gilt wrap within which lurks the alluring Kusanagi. She stands, coyly beckoning the audience with an undulation of her right middle finger before she slides it in her mouth, her long tresses loose, her eyes smoldering with power. Her fanciest trick is the extraordinary removal of panties—she slips out like an otter slithers out of a whorl of kelp, leaving them like a molted shell in her wake (this is mixing metaphors, but come with me). Then she does it again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Improbably again (all while gliding steadily upstage). It’s enthralling and impressive, done with an excess that makes it both technical and absurd: how does she do it without a single snag? One at a time? Without stumbling or tangling the layers? When she returns downstage, she is starkers, and not one person in the audience doesn’t check to make sure—in case the poncho doesn’t flash open at a vantage point convenient to you, she flops into a split and crawls upstage, vacuuming up her leavings. Done with less mastery it could have been gratuitously graphic, but Lisa K brings to it wit, skill, and a mind lustrous and inexhaustible as a shark tooth--brava, madam.
http://criticaldance.org/dance-askance-new-column-irene-hsiao/
by Dance Askance with Irene Hsiao, CriticalDance
Finally, Lisa Kusanagi in her 16 Day Return Policy (2014), reminding me of no one less than Mark Morris dancing Arabian in his Hard Nut: a slightly cracked geisha, the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland after too many hits from the hookah, swathed in a golden silk poncho of her own design that looks like butterfly wings or a tent, a lavish bit of gilt wrap within which lurks the alluring Kusanagi. She stands, coyly beckoning the audience with an undulation of her right middle finger before she slides it in her mouth, her long tresses loose, her eyes smoldering with power. Her fanciest trick is the extraordinary removal of panties—she slips out like an otter slithers out of a whorl of kelp, leaving them like a molted shell in her wake (this is mixing metaphors, but come with me). Then she does it again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Improbably again (all while gliding steadily upstage). It’s enthralling and impressive, done with an excess that makes it both technical and absurd: how does she do it without a single snag? One at a time? Without stumbling or tangling the layers? When she returns downstage, she is starkers, and not one person in the audience doesn’t check to make sure—in case the poncho doesn’t flash open at a vantage point convenient to you, she flops into a split and crawls upstage, vacuuming up her leavings. Done with less mastery it could have been gratuitously graphic, but Lisa K brings to it wit, skill, and a mind lustrous and inexhaustible as a shark tooth--brava, madam.
http://criticaldance.org/dance-askance-new-column-irene-hsiao/
Utopia On the Big Screen
by Megan Stevenson, Seattle Dances
The most delightfully odd utopia presented came in itsy bitsy by Juju and Lisa Kusanagi. The sisters, in canary yellow lipstick, performed delicate finger dances in a mushroom forest, sipped through novelty straws, carefully stepped over eyeballs on a bark floor, and played mushrooms like musical wine glasses. Set in a technicolor world, the movement began with isolated articulations of hands and feet and later expanded to full body stretching, undulation, and locking. Rather than seeming frivolous, the film was grounded by the sisters’ specificity of intent in each movement. In this film (and often in the world), sometimes weirdness is paradise.
by Megan Stevenson, Seattle Dances
The most delightfully odd utopia presented came in itsy bitsy by Juju and Lisa Kusanagi. The sisters, in canary yellow lipstick, performed delicate finger dances in a mushroom forest, sipped through novelty straws, carefully stepped over eyeballs on a bark floor, and played mushrooms like musical wine glasses. Set in a technicolor world, the movement began with isolated articulations of hands and feet and later expanded to full body stretching, undulation, and locking. Rather than seeming frivolous, the film was grounded by the sisters’ specificity of intent in each movement. In this film (and often in the world), sometimes weirdness is paradise.
Midwest Regional Alternative Dance Festival
Dance Askance with Irene Hsiao, CriticalDance
Lisa K brings it again, this time with her sister, JuJu Kusanagi, in their delightfully fantastic 'itsy bitsy' (2015), a trip down the rabbit hole with the best of guides, odd dolls, Alices who couldn’t stop sipping and nibbling from the rocks and bottles.
Dance Askance with Irene Hsiao, CriticalDance
Lisa K brings it again, this time with her sister, JuJu Kusanagi, in their delightfully fantastic 'itsy bitsy' (2015), a trip down the rabbit hole with the best of guides, odd dolls, Alices who couldn’t stop sipping and nibbling from the rocks and bottles.
