caterinamora

which is a quote from the Bible that I found on the internet. Yes, I come from a Christian
family. The sentence refers to death. But I grew up in a desert, so for me this phrase always
referred to the constant dust in Patagonia and to feeling the dust everywhere and all the
time. I remember going outside after a shower and getting dirty again because of the strong
wind. And I hated the strong wind that brought a lot of dust on my skin and hair.

Have you ever rolled around on dusty dance floors?
I try to clean my heads to blow the dust off these lines.
As another start, I will explain that the most difficult exercise for me is to locate my

position in this writing: How do you write a choreographic critique from a friendly perspective?
This “friendly perspective” actually means that I am a friend, as we consider friends of the
creators. More than that, my name is part of the “thanks” you can see in the credits. I have
known Andrea, Stella and Nefeli for a couple years, around the time we were all new in
town. What you are reading here is an affective, hyper-subjective reaction to the piece we
saw at Weld on April 27, 2024 at 8pm.

One of the first images of the piece shows Nefeli on her shins, wiping the floor with a

water cube and a rag in a sparing rhythm. The act of wiping, again and again. It's not about what to clean, it's about cleaning. What does such a daily gesture do in a contemporary dance piece? In other words: How does the gesture of cleaning become choreography?

Andrea wipes the floor with her arms.
Stella searches for invisible dust on Andrea´s body.
Cleaning for life and cleaning for art.
Breathing together to keep the same rhythm and resisting the number of hours

together. Hidden in the curves, in the folds between the textiles, on the surface between my
arm and this floor, we come across dust. In the dark, we can´t see if the floor is clean. And
maybe it doesn’t matter. We can’t tell if mold or rust has accumulated on any of the surfaces
of this black box.

Can you see the anger in the darkness?
An army of women cleaning until they whisper poetry in your ear.
A sensual Dust Bunny, mopping again.

We clean so we can concentrate.

A moving totem, consisting of three bodies that breathe or moan or sound or move

together. The totem becomes a punky protest trio, bouncing next to each other and forming
a line so that the water on the floor makes the sound even louder. What are they protesting
for? Para fregar los rincones de tu suciedad. To scrub the corners of your dirt.

Dust Bunny focuses on maintenance work in his “unworking title". We look up in the

dictionary what maintenance means: “the state of keeping; (…) to keep in a certain
condition, operation, or vigor”. Dust Bunny blurs the line between life and art and asks
questions: how does the choreography of maintenance become a choreography for it?

To keep up the hours.
To keep mopping.
To smile and carry on.

Thousands of hours cleaning, trapeando, enduring time in a repetitive work in hours

that no one sees nor wants to see. Choreographing fewer hours, also trapeando,
turning a limited time into a productive time in a dance studio.

Can you please remind us of the history of hygiene so that we understand how

sensual fantasies are linked to dirt? Remember the video clip “Dirrty” by Cristina Aguilera.

My mother used to sing while cleaning and since then we have only cleaned with

Dust Bunny, don´t come near us, we fear you like we fear dirtiness.
Dust Bunny, in a fucking gesture of “we choreograph, so we clean”. It's definitely not

funny, and we wish we could have a happy ending, but we don´t. I have more of a
pessimistic one: where have you collected your sensual dust?

References: The odours of dust and detergent; René Descartes; The Bible Genesis

3:19; dictionary ‘Word reference’ online, Word 'maintenance'; and video clip 'Dirrty', sung
by Cristina Aguilera.

Performing artist and researcher.
She comes from the territory called Patagonia by expeditionary colonizers, she is a migrant who has the possibility of becoming a legal migrant.
Current PhD candidate at Stockholm University of the Arts (Uniarts). She did apass in Brussels (post-master and Research Center) and she was one of the Artists Trajectory 2021-2023 at WorkSpace Brussels.
Trained in academic and folkloric dance, caterina’s work aims to problematize modes of production and the colonial legacy in the representation of Western dance. Her pedagogical approach uses intimacy as procedure and explores translation as transgression. She got married to have a residency permit on European territory.
She doesn’t have an Instagram account and has never gone into an IKEA store.
www.uniarts.se/english/people/co-workers/caterina-mora/