So heartening, to see performances like this – this kind of fecund, skewed, delightful conversation between disciplines – in a time where, on the surface, all is stasis, contraction, a cultural hunkering-down.  Um, no.  Let’s blow the doors off, artists, let’s climb out the holes in the roof and look around, let’s test ourselves, let’s have some fucking fun.

Being a Detroiter is a real asset in this endeavor, or so it seems to this native, at least.  We are experienced at making much out of little, we see the gleam in rust, we can operate in the dark, we know our way around.  And we can, do, and will continue to make our own fun, out of ephemera, concertina wire, velvet rags, and strings of all kinds.

(OK, this has been the Manifesto Moment of the day.  Back to the script-writing …)