In Recovery: Delicate and Disarming

Recently landed: In Recovery: Delicate and Disarming, Gracia's written response for Fjord Review

In the yawning space of the machine hall, we assembled. A small group of mourners cloaked in suitable attire, our number countable upon my fingers, no need for the toes. We came in pairs to Recovery, to a space formally the domain of pigeons and vandals, to witness “a delicate duel with time". I brought with me my curiosity and an expectation to become unmoored.

Though instructed to before entering the space, we formed something of an instinctual, loose knot around the performers, Nat Cursio and Shannon Bott. We formed, it quickly transpired, not a band of ghoulish spectators, but a family. Having read through the programme notes before my arrival, I knew that the work was born from grief, and based on earlier works involving Nat Cursio I felt certain of one thing: that I would be surprised. And in the former electricity Sub-station with its Neo Classical proportions of grandeur, I was to feel both dwarfed by the cavernous space our number barely filled and part of something bigger, greater. I had not expected this connectedness to others to form so easily, if at all, and it is testament to the stripped back, real and still (possibly always) raw work. On a quiet Monday evening, Cursio and Bott offered forth a work, absent of sentimentality and decorativeness, about how loss affects every cell of the body, and what could be more disarming and delicate than that? On a run-of-the-mill weekday, we were being entrusted with something intensely personal and particular; this was my surprise.

Nat Cursion and Shannon Bott in Recovery (Image credit: Rachel Roberts)