New York looks to be a city constructed almost entirely from manmade stuff: steel, concrete, glass, towering ambition. Even the places and spaces for nature display the imprint of humans. Along the city’s grid, the pristinely manicured lawns of parks intermingle with tidy flowerbeds edged in wrought iron. In the battle between man versus nature, man seems to have won.
But look again.
Weeds sprout from cracks in the sidewalks, and trees push forth from the asphalt. This flora reaches toward the sky, where the sun doesn’t discriminate. Our control over nature is, perhaps, born of illusion rather than reality.
In Jill Sigman/thinkdance’s Weed Heart, she offers an impassioned meditation on observation and discernment. Part installation, part traditional dance piece, and part celebration, Sigman reframes the weed, unloved and unwanted, into something worthy of respect and consideration.
To read the balance of my review, please visit The Dance Enthusiast.