Gutgsell patrols the edge of their space, looking mystified and twiddling his fingers as if searching for some occult communiqué. Then he steps out of his coverall and emerges costumed like the other two, in a peculiar body suit trimmed with crinkles. He and Karol dance together, and the three of them recombine in new extremes of dissonance. At one point, Elam picks up the other two — I think they’re stretched in arabesque at the time. They slink around one another’s bodies, get dropped on the floor. Elam hangs upside down by the knees from Gutgsell’s shoulders, making monster growls and futile scrabbling gestures.
Karol pulls Elam from one of these tangles and starts to lead him away in a sketchy foxtrot. Like everything else they did at Concord, this overture was left unresolved. The dance ended, but they could have kept on for hours without running out of moves.
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