• Tictail x HOBO

    Written by Meghan Scott

    In today’s convenience of digital shopping, we are slowly becoming detached from 'in real life' communication with brands, sometimes opting for convenience over quality and individuality. As technology grows stronger and our workloads surreptitiously increase before our eyes, our dependence on convenience becomes indisputable. With marketing strategies streamlining with our needs through social media outlets, we are slowly losing touch with the tangible world of consumerism. Shopping habits have changed dramatically over the past 10 years and there is a longing for the brick-n-mortar boutique aspect of shopping. With retail chains smothering the market and blinding the mainstream from the way it used to be, the future of retail for independent brands is transforming its approach and it is important to have an appealing setting to draw in.


    Todays leading online marketplace for emerging designers, Tictail, and Stockholm’s famed design boutique hotel, Hobo have teamed up and launched Tictail x Hobo, a permanent brick-n-mortar storefront located in the lobby. And ‘Space By’, the original space for featured designers will remain within the Tictail x Hobo section. City dwellers and visitors can have an immersive shopping experience in the lobby of Hobo and tangibly explore pieces from the Tictail marketplace. Located at Brunkebergstorg 4, with the appropriate title ‘Summer Escape in the Swedish Archipelago’ that will feature 25 brands from 13 countries;  including hats by Portuguese designer Jolie Su, sunglasses by Stockholm native Nividas, beautiful handmade jewelry by Art of Observance in New York and modern knit blankets by French designer Mathilde Boulley. In tandem with the store opening, one Tictail brand per month has the opportunity to open a pop-up shop in the ‘Space By’, giving visitors the opportunity to meet the designers face-to-face and learn more about the brand on a personal level.

    The unveiling of the collaboration took place last week at an intimate dinner that included a small selection of press and influencers who are passionate about the Tictail brand. The evening commenced with bottles of bubbly and a tour of the storefront followed by a fabulous dinner hosted by Carl W Rivera, CEO and co-founder of Tictail and his team and Mattias Stengl, the General Manager at Hobo Hotel. After dessert, we were charmed with an acoustic set by the super talented Swedish pop singer, Rhys. The evening came to an end with more bubbles on the rooftop bar, Tak, overlooking the city.  We also had a chance to discuss the partnership tête-a-têtes. 


    When was the idea of the collaboration first materialized?
    Mattias: Hobo has from the very beginning been driven by a philosophy to not accept status quo and to do things in a different way – especially in collaboration with others. I think we as hoteliers need to challenge ourselves with questions such as “If guests don’t pay for the hotel room in 5 years, what would they be willing to pay for instead?”. Those type of questions challenge us to create experiences beyond just a great night’s sleep and it also challenges us to adapt to an increasingly digital world. With all that said, I was so happy to have met Carl Waldekranz about a year ago. Sometimes you meet people that you immediately understand, who you share values with and that you want to work with. I have been following Tictail for many years and have been impressed by how they are pushing boundaries and with our mission to find out what role hotels will play in the future I was humbled about the thought that Tictail and Hobo should create something together. Said and done we continued our dialogue and we are now ready to take our retail experience and Space By to the next level and we could not wish for a better partner to do that with.

    Carl: When I met Mattias last summer we and had an instant connection: our two businesses and brands share many common traits and values and it felt like a natural fit to work together on something amazing. We both seek to approach something that feels conventional and known, like hotels and retail, but making it unlike anything anyone has ever seen, so when the opportunity came to collaborate on a storefront within Hobo, we both knew we could make amazing things happen together. At Tictail, we have always set out to redefine what e-commerce can and should be, and with Tictail Market we really saw the impact of opening a storefront to our business: turning into a must-visit NYC staple, a community hub, an event space. Opening our second storefront in our hometown of Stockholm speaks not only to the power of brick-and-mortar for our business but to the future of in-store retail for Tictail and the convergence of online and digital.

    Was the decision to have a permanent collaboration influenced by the concept of Hobo’s previous pop-up?
    Carl: We’ve had pop-up’s with Tictail previously, albeit in a different format, both in Stockholm, Paris and New York - and we really saw a huge success at each of those occasions. After opening Tictail Market in New York it became even more evident what having a brick-and-mortar meant for our business. Over the past years we’ve been asked repeatedly about opening another storefront, but in Stockholm, however, we didn’t want to do it until we found the perfect opportunity – we wanted to make sure we could create something really special, unlike anything else. When I met with Mattias, and after staying at Hobo on so many different occasions, it became evident how well the establishment connects with our audience. They promote the love for traveling, meeting new cultures and as a hotel, it is a natural place for a lot of foot traffic. At Tictail, we love hosting events at our NYC storefront and we couldn’t have asked for a better partner here in Stockholm. It is also important to us to create something new with this second location, something that differentiates this from what we have done in NYC. That’s where the Space BY concept comes in, as the last bit of the puzzle. Having the opportunity to offer this to an emerging designer, who can come in and take over the space and run their own retail shop, for some this may be the very first time in such an environment, is something we are so excited about!

    Mattias: At Hobo, our idea prior to this collaboration came from the question of how we could contribute to the community and the outcome was an ever-changing pop-up area for emerging brands, start-ups, and designers. When we then decided to do Space By and we adopted things from the pop-up shop concepts. We have always tried to do things in an easy way and make it possible for many brands to be there even if you are a super small brand that usually do not have your own physical store.

    Have some of the designers that sell on Tictail have had a pop-up at ‘Space By’ in Hobo before?
    Mattias: Hobo is a brand that has its roots and heart in Stockholm and combined with our love for collaborations, we decided early on to create a space inside our lobby that was meant for our community and a way to support emerging brands, start-ups and designers. The result was Space BY and it’s been amazing to see Space BY flourish over the past year, and we are humbled about the opportunity that we have been given to collaborate with progressive brands like Bukvy, Deadwood, Teenage Engineering and many more. Some of these also sell their products at Tictail, such as Bukvy and Deadwood, and this is something that made our collaboration now even more natural.

    Would you ever plan to branch out even further, perhaps Los Angeles? Berlin? Or another city you believe Tictail and its designers could benefit from? Which city would you choose and why?
    Carl: The possibilities are endless. One of the main reasons we love having storefronts in New York and Stockholm, is because we have very active communities in both of those cities. As we continue to think about future storefronts, we will continue to prioritize having an active community in said location. At the end of the day, it’s about community building and making everyone – from our new neighbors to our participating Tictail brands - feel welcome in the space we build. Right now, we want to dedicate time to making Tictail x Hobo as incredible as it can be before thinking of our next location. That said, Paris is a huge market for us, with a wonderful Tictail community, and could be an amazing place to open a store in the coming years.

    The Tictail brand and marketplace will probably expand after this shop opening, do you think this will create a shopping trend not only in retail, moving into the future in terms of web to brick-and-mortar? How do you think this concept will influence consumerism in the future?
    Carl: By creating physical spaces where Tictail products can be featured, we want to build upon what is already occurring online through our platform and offer customers another avenue to interact with these great products and brands. Another important aspect for us has been to tell the story behind the product someone buys. Globalization has created anonymity when shopping today where the average consumer has no idea where, or who made the item that they are purchasing. This is something we aim to change and make sure shoppers get to know the people behind the brands they shop from. When customers are deciding between a small business and big fashion brands, the story behind the product is something that can really help highlight the value in what they bring to the table.

    For Hobo, do you think this will create a shopping trend not only in retail, moving into the future?
    Mattias: I think this collaboration has the possibility to change the way that we look at spaces in general. If a hotel could be a retail experience I think it’s a lot of other venues and places that could do things that they necessarily don’t do at the moment. I also think it could be something that will inspire others to find partners where one is online based and the other offline based.

    If you live in Stockholm or happen to be in town, it is worth checking out, located at Brunkebergstorg 4, in the city center. 

  • photography by JÖRGEN AXELVALL

    MARIKO MATSUSHITA: EAST ASIAN IDEALS IN A POSTMODERN SHELL

    Written by Ksenia Rundin

    Japan has never ceased to be a source of inspiration for the Western culture, starting with the two-hundred-year-long isolation under the sakoku (“closed country”) policy and ending with Japonism, whose influences have embraced artists such as Vincent van Gogh, Edgar Degas, Alphonse Mucha and also art movements from Realism to Art-Nouveau and Symbolism. Odalisque Magazine was given a chance to talk art with the Japanese artist Mariko Matsushita, whose art works speak the language of philosophical aesthetics, bringing the matter and form into a conscious meaning for the beholder.

    The references we see in Mariko’s art are a merely reflection of our mind, where those have already been hidden for a long time and now, provoked by the sense of exoticism, caused by the art works, are swiftly trying to break out. These are emotions that make us human, make us strong and make us feel real and alive. Looking at Mariko’s art we deal with a postmodern interpretation of East Asian ideals, where digital technology challenges our authenticity and questions our identity. Mariko makes you unpretentiously live it.

    Why did you decide to become an artist?
    I never thought of becoming an artist. I needed my own language to speak about myself. I seek for expression being driven by necessity. I am not an artist, I want to become myself.

    When I look at your drawings I think of Frida Kahlo and Finnish artist Markus Heikkerö because I see a touch of surrealism, sexuality and vulnerability. Could you say what message you are placing into your drawings?
    The message I breathe into my work is about the sense of “being alive”. During the course of one's life, you might feel pain like someone would be peeling off your rawhide. You feel a dark loneliness that no one can understand. You may experience a feeling of freedom, living like you were flying unconcerned. You feel the fate given to you by heaven. You feel the happiness which is warm and natural, spreading itself to every corner of the body. And you also feel the irony as all these might just be a lie.

    I strongly feel that I am alive, especially through physical sensations. I do exercise, daily training my body. And this practice reminds me that in spite of the technological innovations, we humans are all given a small body, as a mass of very sharp sensory organs. Our own body tells us that it contains a certain flame similar to the sun’s, and that it is complex and mysterious like the universe, as much as it constitutes a very small and insignificant existence in comparison to the latter.

    I always think about my sense of body and sense of time. Through experiencing my life, I think about life and death. Why are we alive, why are we humans, and why am I myself? In my actual sense of living, I also strongly feel an impulse urging and seeking for others.

    You paint female body a lot. Who is/are the woman/women on your canvas?
    Regardless of female or male, what I paint recently is myself or my close friends. My paintings are also words, mirrors, friends in my heart. So my models are often someone intimate or emotionally involved. The relationship may have ended, while painting. I interact and bring them back out of somewhere they don’t know they belonged to. In such a case, painting is also a ceremony of a fatal encounter and alienation.

    I could also see a shadow of Van Gogh in your brush strokes. Am I right or wrong? Please comment.
    I think that when you confront with painting, it is all up to the beholders, regardless who they are and how they think. The painting also acts like a mirror. Van Gogh lives in your heart, the heart that sees the shadow of Van Gogh on my painting. I think that is precious. In the movie “Fahrenheit 451”, there is a line saying something like, “There are humans behind the book, I am attracted to it”. I think that it could be applicable to all literature and all arts.

    The impressive power that art can hold, is not only about creating the art as such, but also to deliver tremendous messages to someone through time and space. It is a message directed to life, which is not so easy to verbalize. It is a message directed to love and humanity.

    Please tell me about your collaboration with the photographer Mikito Tateisi. What did you endeavor to create?
    This is the record of myself. The day will come, when my own body dies. Until that day, I will continue to record my body and feelings of myself and others with paintings, photos, videos and poetry. I understand that I am an insignifiant person, but I feel that the record might help someone else to live. The place where human consciousness awakens is a very dark place. I think that art can be done by placing the next stepping stone in the dark without any concrete meaning.

    In 2017, I spent the summer in the Delfina Foundation in London. While in residence, I hung a red cloth on the window and thus, lived everyday in a room reddened with the sunlight. In the room there were daily necessities and what I wanted to create was something overflowing and accumulated. The red room was also mentally influential, I was experiencing various psychological conditions … The room would turn pinkish with the daylight, then it turned into deep red with the evening light… It made me slightly nervous, giving a strange feeling. I gradually started thinking that I would like to create an art piece using meat, imitating a fetus placed in a pseudo-uterus called “a red room”.

    At first I was making a small sculpture carving a little piece of meat in the shape of an animal, but the meat grew gradually and finally I walked around the city with a mass of meat weighting 14.4 kilos and spent time naked with the meat in my room. Thus, collaboration with Mikito is the record of the “red room” which also has been an installation and a performance.

    You have had collaboration with a fashion brand. Tell about your experience as an artist entering fashion.
    First of all, I merely lent the paintings, I did not participated in the designing process of the clothes as such. However, it was a very interesting experience of my paintings going to the town not only in the atelier and the exhibition place but also on the people's clothes.

    In the 1990s, when I was a teenager, there were several magazines that snapped Japanese Harajuku Fashion, and the fashion was the street culture for me.

    Two brands that I collaborated with are also brands for young women. Some people might get sceptical of such collaborations, but I would like to go out more on the street through production. I think that it will guide me to expressions that are not just paintings, such as images, performances and poetry.

    I hope that not only prints with my art works are to be viewed but also many people wear art, become art, live powerfully and be free. And paradoxically, even if you do not wear anything, you do not have anything. No matter how old you are, you can be yourself, you can jump into art from writing only one verse, this is what I want you to feel with my art.

    Do you have any future fashion collaborations planned?
    I have not decided anything yet, but personally, I would like to make kimonos. Kimono is traditional Japanese clothing. I would make it very planar and play with it as it was a painting hanging in the room.

    Like many Japanese people, I have had a modern childhood and thereof, have been separated from the traditional Japanese life. However, as I deal with art and deepen my various ideas, I gradually return to the Oriental ideas and thoughts.

    When I stayed in the Delfina Foundation last year and traveled all over Europe, there were many cases that reminded me of Japanese culture. I think that fusing not only clothes but also wisdom of the West and the East is important.

    What do you think art and fashion can learn from each other in the aspects of creativity and sustainability?
    I am not specialist concerning fashion. However, looking at the changing society, various things can be considered. For example, a genderless world expressed and driven by fashion, a screened communication of the body deployed on the Internet. Furthermore, the manufactured limbs such as artificial arms and feet which are concerned a necessity today will be eventually transformed from the perspective of trans-humanism. 
    Medical development encourages people to dress. The design of artificial legs is already quite artistic now.
    Imagining the future, the body expansion will be in the field of general fashion, I think that the sense of “human beauty” will become more diverse.

    An era may also come when you can genetically customize the skin color, hair color, height, etc. of a child coming to be born. Why, is it me? Where on earth do you live with your heart? With the expansion of physicality, there will be a time of reincarnation, when many people listen to themselves and the question of “human”. It is very important.

    We are living in the midst of the flow of the canal in the era of technology increasingly being developing.
    Every art, music and literature will play an important role for not losing your human self, growing to an intelligent, lovely adult, and always keeping paying it forward to the next generations.
    I am planning to travel the world from now on and I would like to know about gender and death in various cultures. I think that I will learn a lot about fashion and art as well.

    And I will never stop dreaming about the future, drawing my sense classically and magically like a cave painting.

  • GRIND – A MOMENT OF TRUTH WITH YOUR OWN SELF

    Written by Ksenia Rundin

    Yesterday I discovered that silence could be constructed of something immaterial. A darkness followed by a sound and a light went through my emotions, my thoughts and my body, turning into a material product – the silence. Surrounded by the Bauhausian atmosphere of the Orion Theatre in the company of approximately two hundred people, with a pitch darkness squeezing me, electric sounds hunting my blood and a feeble light manifesting its fragility, I felt left in a dead silence completely alone with my body leaning from the fifth row desperately trying to reach the stage. It was a pure moment of me experiencing the authentic nudity of my inner self. Jefta van Dinther was performing his imminent GRIND, while I was grinding away in my fears, memories and desires, having dialogue with myself. It felt like during one of those moments when you are standing in front of an audience and the silence gets so deep that you have an obligation to break it here and now. Yesterday, was the moment when I had no choice but to break the unbearable silence between me and myself.

    Glancing back at the history of modern dance and performance art, I think of John Cunningham’s idea that no medium should be subordinate, where he used music and décor as independent elements as opposed to complementing the choreography. Jefta van Dinther, Minna Tikkainen and David Kiers have now moved a step forward, creating both a new dimension for uniting the independence of movement, sound and light and also a unique way of perceiving those as a new material product. The product in its turn becomes unique for every individual beholder based on the individual complexity of his/her mind containing memories and feelings. Such approach can be considered very democratic as the influences, which you as a spectator become a subject for, are merely based on your own feelings and experiences. You are alone in your game, where you are exposed to your own self. Isn’t that a kind of experience we need in our times of political uncertainty, fashion race and social insanity based on the power of consumerism, exterminating our ability to stay individual? GRIND is a pure luxury to have a look inside your own self.

    How did you decide to become a dancer? When did you first time discover dance as an art form?
    It is a long story that goes back to my very early ages. Normally, I would say that my dance story starts with my proper dance training, which began when I was seventeen and I entered the dance school already one year after that in Amsterdam. I moved to Amsterdam when I was eighteen, studied there and had a bit of a normal trajectory as a dancer, slowly becoming a choreographer. But in fact, I think it started a lot earlier. I grew up in quite precarious situation. My parents were missionaries and they would travel around the world and I would actually have my first performance experience on the streets as a kid. So I would be a storyteller, staging stories from the Bible. My parents would perform on the streets and I would be the flower. That was actually the first time when I was performing in front of people. And then I also was, as a kid, a part of Christian groups that would do singing and dancing on the streets. I only made the connection to the kind of performing I do nowadays quite late in my life. In a way, the lifestyle is very similar.

    So, your art was kind of born out of a religious mission?
    In a way. In a way you can say that. And I think my work, my art work deals a lot with, what people keep calling, - something religious. I guess, it has spiritual quests. There is something about transcending, what is the material world and how do we use the material world to transcend to the immaterial world.

    How did the idea of this particular collaboration in GRIND between you, Minna Tikkainen and David Kiers arise?
    It started with Minna and me. We had known each other for a very long time, because I was dancing in productions, where she was a lighting designer for. And we said like “Let’s try to do something. Let’s meet and see how to work together!” Then we got a residence here in Stockholm at Weld, a space by Odenplan. It is an amazing space, a studio in a basement, like a shaft. They gave us a chance without any demands. They practically said, “Here you have the studio. Play around!” We started in materials and ideas that we had not managed to fit in other productions. Very soon we started noticing that it started boiling down to a kind of concept, which had to do with synaesthesia. We did not start studying synaesthesia. We did not want to get into it from the theoretical point of view. But we were interested in this idea of what happens when elements start to mix in way that they also become inseparable. And how music, light and choreography or body starts to act as if it was synesthetic. To perceive sound through the body or a light as sound, or vice versa. Later we brought in David Kiers, the sound designer. How could we create a body that exists because of the kind of intertwinement of these elements? How does it create something that is not light, nor sound, nor choreography, but actually is another kind of body that only can exist because of this interaction? So, if you put on the light, it would kill the show. If you turn off the sound, it would kill the show. If you took out the body, it would kill the show. Looking for only materials that actually create that otherness together.

    It is very interesting concept, because the body here loses its centrality which it used to have in traditional dance, like ballet. The angles and forms it creates becomes unimportant.
    Exactly! There was a kind of movement, a kind of stream of taking away the body. It was a conceptual approach to dance where choreography can exist not only in movements of the body but also could be a movement of plastic bags or something like that. Here, I think, in the end what we are choreographing is something immaterial, very dark. It is literally very dark in the show, you hardly know what you see. You can see the stuff but you cannot actually grasp what you see. But it is something about that it really collides with your perception and it brings about some sort of almost like a hallucinatory state. Thus, it is very material, although immaterial.

    In one of your interviews you were talking about your other show “Plateau Effects” and you said, “Think of the performance as plateau effects. Let’s say various plateaus that change level but are also stable.” How should we think of GRIND in such case?
    Many of my pieces deal with a kind of plateauing. Someone wrote once “Jefta is equivalent to a slow food cook in choreography.” The time is really elastic, stretched out. I often work with very slow progressions of building up, you have this tension that evolves but extremely slowly. It really builds up in you and you need it to change. And I think GRIND does that too. There are five or six scenes that are interconnected but each scene is somehow based on a labour interaction with a material. The person on stage, which is me, is interacting with a cable or interacting with a big piece of cloth. And every scene is very slowly leading to a trance. But each scene is also made of an effect, such as visual, sonic, corporeal effect, which normally would last for maximum thirty seconds (otherwise it is not an effect anymore). But instead of providing effects we are continuously building up to these effects.

    The performance slightly reminds me the famous ballet “The Rite of Spring” (1913) composed by Igor Stravinsky with Vaclav Nizhinsky dancing in it, where the plot was considered as a succession of choreographed episodes instead of the classical storytelling with a clear narrative line.
    Some people view GRIND in a very abstract sense as it is about a play of perception, like a visual arts piece. Because of their dramaturgy and the figure who is going through it, it starts to become narrative and give rise to associative potential. People see a lot of things. There is a struggle the dancer is going through and people associate to murder, torture, ecstasy, violence.  They have something very particular in their memory about being scared. Thus the form is very explicitly abstract while the experience is not. This is what creates a very interesting game. People realize, “This is an abstract work but I am actually having so many memories, so many associations and so many stories.”

    You said once that you are challenged by things you do not understand and you try to create something that provide uncertainty. If we apply these to concepts on GRIND. What is that you do not understand about it? And what uncertainty have you created in there?
    People live through the performance not knowing what it was they were going through. It touches quite dark parts in them, dealing with something relentless and violent. It enters a kind of subconscious place. I work often with a kind of altered state. It varies from show to show: it can be through synaesthesia for example but also say, depression. When you are in an altered state, things are fuzzy. And I think, when I was making GRIND, it was for the first time I started to trust the space of creativity that has something more to do with dreams or nightmares – that fuzzy space that I can access not only when I am dreaming but also through having music in my ears, closing my eyes or maybe when I am tired. With GRIND I started to trust that subliminal place, thinking “If I feel this, if I can access this, maybe it is also a way for me to stage that. And for people to experience that somehow.” Unlike a usual theatrical concept, offering a collective experience, GRIND is not a social place actually, not a collective experience. Everyone is alone in the dark. They cannot hear the person next to them, they cannot see anything. Thus, it becomes utterly personal to them.

    I would say it has a certain connection to AI (artificial intelligence), where you bring in the technology having effects on the human beings, hasn’t it?
    The whole AI-chapter I am working a lot with now. It is something that is coming up in a lot of my work now. It is a reality, like it or not. You have plastic inside of you and your smartphone is already an extension of you, even it is outside of your body.

    Do you still practice Kundalini Yoga?
    Yes, I do it before the show. Usually I do work out but such type of training is too heavy when I have to perform. So, I practice Kundalini Yoga then. It is very repetitive and it is a nice way to get in touch with yourself. I also meditate.

    If I translated your performance into paintings, I would think of Francis Bacon because in your performances the invisible points out the visible and the intangible feelings become material. What would you say about that?
    Yes. The reference to Bacon is maybe about making the material of something internal. Maybe it is an easy link, but the monstrosity is a way of choreographing an internal space, manifesting through the face, through the expression. Dance is so much about not dealing with the head and with the face, because the body is supposed to be expressive through its form and tonus. I am very engaged with making manifest the internal processes and put that context in the space, through the expression. I am kind of interested in what leaks out of the process, during the co-creation with the audience.

    Do you use art as a source of inspiration, going for example to any pinakothek in Berlin?
    I see quite a lot. Visual art is very much present. I am into video work and I like Mark Leckey, who is a British visual artist. There is a video, which he actually made about the club culture “Fiorucci made me Hardcore”. It is a brilliant art film that deals with a kind of archive of the club culture of the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s in Great Britain. It is a beautiful collage. I also like David Lynch. I am very busy with the uncanny and with this idea of what is familiar but not, what is social but twisted. Visual art, music and a lot of film. My work is also very cinematic.  

    What dancers inspire you?
    Above all, clubbing. It is contemporary clubbing. I entered that world when I was twenty eight. Clubbing is interesting for me because it is one of the only proper contemporary rituals we have. It is one of the only places where people engage in the present moment for the sake of present moment and without making sense. It is useless in some way. It is about having fun and escapism but also is a certain and spiritual practice. To engage in something what is actually present, yet immaterial, I found that very spectacular. Clubbing puts people together, they dance for hours and hours. There is something transcendental about it. You use your body, you use the music, you use the light and that dark space in order to have a collective experience that is not material. 

    Do you acquire any inspiration from fashion?
    Fashion is tricky to work with directly. I am busy but it is something I have hard time to translate into my work. Dance has a kind of strange relation to costume and historically speaking, fashion is considered costume there. Of course, fashion is much more than that. I usually down-dress people a lot on stage or I use nudity. Relatability on stage has been very important to me – how ordinary people can relate to what happens on stage.

    If you got a chance to collaborate with an artist, what artist would you choose and how this collaboration would look like?
    To be honest, I would love to have been there with John Cage, Merce Cunningham and Robert Rauschenberg. It must have been a remarkable time to be in dance.

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