Tearing Myself
do you get it how badly
i’ve wanted to do this
unravelling each and every moment within myself
(to) study it
(to) understand it
(to) breathe the dust in between
did i make this?
i was there
i chose this yarn i chose these stitches
but did it choose to be this way because i asked it to
or am i telling myself i did
(so) i could feel better
(so) i would be in Control
do you know how badly
this has itched around my body
convulsing and contracting
a snake that’s slithered itself stuck in some fishnets
another moment to crawl out another to build upon
if i take this apart
can i try again?
did i choose to make it how it is
or did i just go with whatever was left
(begging) to regain Control
(begging) to feel like i have it because i wanted it
because i like it
not because if i wouldn’t
you couldn’t know how badly
it strangles my ribcage
because if i had said it out loud it would have been true
and i would have been tearing myself
apart in the kitchen on a Tuesday
and i might have cried
and that would have been too much
MDT 2022
Tearing Myself begun with a poem. I found myself obsessed with yarn, making and unravelling, what it meant to make again, to learn, to teach. How my hands knew how everything got to be how it was. If I did it once, I could do it again. How so many women before me had learned the same lessons and knew the same things, more things. What is it about learning from a mistake that is different from learning from someone telling you what to do? Does it stick better when you remember the work you had to do to learn it firsthand? To make to make. To make and make again. To make to make again. To make to take apart.
draft one
draft one is a video project depicting the making of and unravelling of a crochet top. The top was constructed in a single sitting and is constructed in a way that allows for constant unravelling in a way where it is still possible to wear it while performing the action.
The video contains partial nudity. For best experience listen with headphones.
Music, animation, filming, performing and editing by MDT.
Premiered at Things that go EEK in the Night, London, May 2023.
Text:
(humming)
There are many signs of making as you look around my space. Pasts, presents, futures of projects. A lot of work in perpetual progress. Making to make, to make something, something to hold, to show, to wear, to share, to learn, to experiment, to earn, to perfect, to have, in sickness and in health, to be, to breathe, to make - again. I was knitting a sweater at work and someone asked me if it was a commission or for me and I said it was just for fun. I got a pair of compression gloves so crocheting wouldn’t give me carpal tunnel syndrome. Making to make what I like, what I want, what I need, to surround myself with, to think and not think, to make myself.
(pause)
(humming harmonies)
draft two
draft two was a live performance lasting 9 minutes 27 seconds. It features the performance action and an accompanying audio track. The performance action starts seated with a normal ‘get un-ready with me’, by taking off shoes, jewellery and other clothing items. When all that is left is the dress, the performance continues standing. After some mental preparation, the next action is the unravelling. The loose thread is on the bottom of the dress which is purpose-made to unravel in one go, just as the top from draft one. The action varies in speed and energy but never stops. The unravelling continues until the whole dress is simply a pile of yarn on the floor. The final action is catching my breath and picking up the remaining yarn to wear it.
Sound, performing, and lighting by MDT. Tearing Myself draft two was first performed during Things That Go Eek In The Night, London, August 2023
Text:
(humming)
When is something really done? Finished, cast off, ends trimmed, blocked, tried on, signed, sent off, worn? When you don’t have anything to add or anything to take away? When there’s nothing next? Sometimes I look at what I’m doing and think: if anyone were to ask how I’m doing it I would not know how to explain it. Women from all over the world in different times have come up with all of this on their own and passed it down to who they wanted to listen and learn, until it reached my great grandmother, and my grandmother, and my mother and me, and my teachers, their mothers and daughters, and how it will one day reach my sister, through her mother or grandmother, or me. I want to write myself into this pattern, weave the ends with my own, build on their foundations and start my own. How can I learn from the past and build for the future when I can only be now?
(humming continues)
(humming harmonies)
I did it once, I can do it again (repeated in variations).
(live heavy breathing sounds)