In 1971, Trisha Brown gathered nine dancers dressed in red and scattered them across rooftops in lower Manhattan. For half an hour, the dancers — all of whom stood blocks apart — relayed a series of movements to each other, in the dance world’s version of the game of telephone. The work, called Roof Piece, was staged several times during the early 1970s, but had not been performed in its original rooftop context since 1973.

Last night, Brown’s dance company restaged the piece in the vicinity of the High Line Park on Manhattan’s west side, on the rooftops of office buildings, butchers and trendy restaurants. The weather, initially, did not cooperate. (An end-of-the-world thunder shower — complete with lightning — left all of us spectators huddling under the Standard Hotel shortly before the show was supposed to begin.) But once things cleared, everyoe took their positions. Ironically, the steely skies made a perfect backdrop to the bright red outfits worn by the performers.

There was something beautifully zen/tai chi about the whole exercise, with one dancer’s gesture inspiring another’s and then another’s, over several square blocks, in a rippling chain reaction. If you have a chance, there are still three more performances over the course of the weekend (and they’re free). Find the schedule here. For a good take on the original performance, see this write-up by photographer Babbette Mangolte.

All photos by C-M.

Seven ladies, seven yellow dress, one yellow cube. (Photos by C-M.)

I spent some quality time in Bryant Park taking in Kate Gilmore‘s latest performance piece, Walk the Walk. The bright splash of yellow at the edge of the park was a visual spectacle — especially on a grey day like yesterday. But the ladies looked bored and tired and cold, and, as a result, I felt much the same way after a while.

Find the New York Times review here. Video after the jump. The show runs through Friday at 6:30pm.

Spent last night at Secret Project Robot in Brooklyn watching some inter-gender lucha libre — complete with an intermission performance of the Mexican hat dance and a Pee Wee Herman-inspired rendition of Tequila. I also voted in the guacamole contest. A note to whomever made guacamole #1: Never, under any circumstances, or for any reason, must you put curry powder in guacamole. I believe that this is governed by the Geneva Convention. Look it up.

Remember that conceptual art frat party I went to Austin? Well, the group shot is out — and we’re in it. (And I think my hair is bigger than my head. (Dang humidity.) Anyhow, it’s all pretty darn collegiate-looking if you ask me. And all I gotta say is that New York could use more stuff like this (aka free beer and chips and salsa in someone’s backyard). Larry Gagosian, please get on it.

Thanks to the folks at Test Site for the good times (and the photo).

Partying hearty with the faux fraternity types. (Photos by C-M.)

While in Austin, @ktsmither gave us a tip that Test Site, a city arts lab, was hosting an event by artist Michael Smith (a.k.a. Baby Ikki). He and curator Jay Sanders had transformed a tony home in a well-to-do neighborhood into an art frat house — ΟΣΦ, Omicron Sigma Phi — and were staging a “reunion” party (complete with keg). From what I heard, the neighbors got slightly ruffled at the idea of some possibly vomitous revelry moving into the area. But fortunately this was a gentlemanly fraternity, channeling an a-capella-group-from-Amherst kind of vibe. So, we spent a pleasant afternoon drinking beer in the name of art — and then everyone gathered for a group shot on the front lawn. An all around excellent afternoon, made better by the fact that it’s now been enshrined as art.

Learn more about Test Site here.