Mercury threatens to burst out of my imaginary thermometer under the onslaught of Fahrenheits. The time of the year is quickly approaching the date of don’t-even-think-about-getting-hold-of-anyone-in-NYC point, a.k.a. August 1. So when a cryptic text from Bushwick gallerist Christopher Stout arrives, enticing me to escape New York in an hour-long performance on Monday night, I simply say, “Sign me up.”
I have exactly zero expectations. I’m bored out of my mind and hot as hell. Vaguely I imagine that I will be asked to follow someone somewhere like is usually the case in performances that claim to be “immersive” and I’m fine with it.
Unsuccessfully avoiding several fire hydrants blasting cold water like there’s no water shortage on the other coast, I bike to ADO (Art During Occupation, formerly known as Christopher Stout Gallery), which is housed at Brooklyn Fire Proof.
