Pig Pig Pig attempts a new vocabulary of violence, broaching the unspeakable: absence, solitude, the monstrous, anger, horror and pleasure, the very brutality of being--myths supporting otherness; an oppositional otherness, making language and sex attacks on a falsely tolerant society, a simultaneously enchanting and melancholy foreboding of a body no longer idyllic but base merchandise; the body as garbage.

To celebrate, and also to make present and understand the other, whether real or imagined, is not primarily an analytic activity, but a mimetic one. It is to speak like the other and at the same time remain oneself; losing each other while taking up the other’s identities, shifting mutably between one self and the other, one sex and the other.  ‘This way of finding oneself in the other, this objectification, is always more or less, a form of alienation, at once a loss of oneself and a recovery of oneself,’ writes Umberto Eco inThe Open Work. Contrarily, there are the means of subjectivation by definition of the other, of that which we are not—‘I know who I am because I am not you.’ Defining the other is simultaneously to define the collective. Defining the other is the act that brings the collective into being.
 

Applying the formal practice of writing to our bodies--akin to the literary experiments of Henri Michaux or later passages by Pier Paolo Pasolini, both of whose texts we utlize in the work--we begin from movements that speak without expressing detectable or rational (thus, narrative) discourse, exploring elements of variation and erasure as they would be applied in a textual manner.

As the two sole performers, we attempt to erase ourselves within the work in order to approach being ‘other’, thereby achieving a form of contamination, of perversion of self.