Performance Art

We had to preview Tinker’s performance video project. Chantal’s condo at Forgetful Bay was all dressed up in 20th century modern, original Eames stuff, some Aalto, Risom, some stuff I didn’t recognize except to see that it was in the same ballpark as the stuff I did recognize. Most interesting was that nothing looked like a replica. “Great house,” I said.

“In which I have lived for many years,” Chantal said.

“My late husband was a collector.”

“Late husband,” I repeated.

“Bert,” she said. “He died right upstairs.” Here she pointed straight up at the ceiling.

“Good to know,” I said.

“I’ve still got the body outline on the floor,” Chantal said.

“That’s a joke, I recognize that,” I said.

“We’re going up to Tinker’s room for the preview,”she said. “You want something on the way up? Some cake?”

“You have cake?” I said.

“I do,” she said.

“Maybe later,” I said. I didn’t trust her.

 

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