The sounds of nature at midnight in Soundhide
The fizzing of stones in a water bowl in Almanac
The sound of folk tales, retold, of skinned wolves and their skinners in McGillivray
The heavy silence of footage rolling to an empty cinema, a liminal space, a poetics of grief and rememberance in the utterly beautiful presentation of Hourglass
The magician carving out space for thinking about identity and the politics of identification (‘I am not historical, I am not futurity) in Because of Hair
The listening in of Scribe, temporarily etched into the pavements and sites of Ipswich, a dispersed democratic records (testimony as poetics)
The collection of social politics in You See… , processes of questioning that are multiple and growing
On finding common ground, on false allies, on the specificity of histories and the way they emerge in public space.
On embracing uncomfortable spaces to shift something forward (on the power of repetition and the body to unveil and unpack)
On ways to approach confrontation and the self/en masse
On the conflation of nationhood with legitimation and policing of identities
On the community that is not bound
On the festival as a cross-pollination of civic, social and political space.