ART
“Tableau on a Nightstand”
On view at your left nightstand until you summon the will to clean it up, this rich multimedia work explores the detritus of quarantine through wry, revealing juxtapositions. An empty beer bottle balances on stray puzzle pieces; the crumpled wrappings of mini peanut-butter cups sit coyly atop an untouched copy of “The Power Broker.” This piece exposes a dynamic tension between indulgence and improvement, inviting reflection on one’s own standards and the velocity at which they have slipped. A companion piece, “Bunch of Shit That Fell Off the Nightstand,” is on limited display only a few feet below.
CLASSICAL MUSIC
“Vacuuming for Two Full Hours”
A fearless pioneer of her instrument, your neighbor Beth has composed a challenging meditation on time and space. The performance is site-specific, and hinges on the listener’s knowledge that your neighbor Beth lives in a small studio apartment. Questions float up from the monotonous hum like dust motes in a sunbeam: What could she possibly still be vacuuming? Is this a prank? Is this a dream? The sound is literal in one sense—it is the sound of a vacuum cleaner—and yet it is also a metaphorical elegy. By the final bars of “Vacuuming for Two Full Hours,” your neighbor Beth has lost most of an afternoon, and you have lost your entire mind.
DANCE
“HEY! NO!”
In this startling contemporary ballet, a solitary orange cat starts to leap onto your lit stove, dramatically changing course with a tour en l’air when you yell at him. A brief but electrifying program.
FOOD & DRINK
Full-on Strega Nona Situation in Your Sad Little Kitchen
Pasta reigns supreme at this culinary pop-up, where the guest is expected not only to prepare her own Barilla tricolor rotini but also to wash the dishes afterward. The ambience is one of quiet dread—go ahead and read the news on your phone while dining. A half sleeve of Ritz crackers is an irresistible, if unambitious, appetizer, and the signature dessert (an ice-cream sandwich consumed without pleasure while standing over the sink) is not to be missed.
MOVIES
“Netflix Menu Screen”
A plot is set in motion when a character makes a choice—but what happens when the character is you, the choice is which film to watch, and a pandemic has broken your brain? This postmodern montage of Netflix movie previews is unique upon every viewing, but manages to retain a defining core of hopelessness. Rachel Weisz gives a standout performance as Somebody in Some Movie You Scrolled Over by Accident. (Running time: infinite.)
NIGHT LIFE
D.J. Your Neighbor Beth: “Joni Mitchell, But Loud”
You haven’t heard “Both Sides Now” till you’ve heard it blasted at night-club-dance-floor decibels through thin plaster walls, a fact upon which this classical vacuumist turned d.j. has built her unavoidable career. The set arcs toward a transcendent moment of blissful silence, until, noticing that the album has ended, D.J. Your Neighbor Beth commands Alexa to play “Blue.”
THE THEATRE
“Sleep Much More”
Like New York’s interactive-theatre phenomenon “Sleep No More,” this immersive piece breaks down the invisible barrier between actor and audience. In a significant departure, the actors and audience members are separated by actual, physical barriers, so as not to spread a deadly disease. A realistic domestic set is well stocked with props, and the plot is entirely up to you. Will you bake a loaf of bread? Call an ex-boyfriend? Start a fight with a stranger on the Internet? If you’re like most of the participants who have contributed to this hit show’s extended run, you will fall asleep as the matinée begins and awaken, sweaty and confused, to find that it is dark out.
READINGS & TALKS
“Oh, God, Am I Talking to Myself?”: An Evening with You
Oh, God, you are talking to yourself.
https://www.newyorker.com/humor/daily-shouts/goings-on-about-home