He Fa on David Bowie

Silver-white parallel lines narrow to a point at the chest, then circle outward along black trouser legs. The stage outfit associated with David Bowie gains He Fa's broad face and calm expression here, with an extremely narrow upper body joined to two enormous curved lower forms. Even standing entirely still, the lines seem to keep sending the gaze sideways, creating a movement that requires no foot to set off first. I want to reckon the eye's travels separately from the body's journey. A gaze can easily return along a curve, while actual legs need weight, space and a next place to land. The image does not show those conditions, so I cannot call its dynamism an action already completed. Beautiful curves make it easy to forget that a feeling of continuous motion may arise from complete stillness.

The narrow gap between the trouser legs leaves the smallest distinction for movement. It shows that left and right remain two parts; however continuous the lines, they have not welded them together. I am willing to see a promise here: performance can alter a body greatly while still making visible where it can separate, which path has not been swallowed by the surface's wholeness.

Stillness is not a flaw awaiting correction. A stationary body can also change a gaze, and a stage need not prove its energy through displacement at every moment. The real question is whether we openly distinguish these two achievements. An outfit can organize attention brilliantly without necessarily being suited to long-distance walking. Acknowledging that difference allows both abilities to be judged accurately.

I let the silver lines keep looping back, without urging them toward a straight endpoint. He Fa's unhurried face leaves the body with a little less mythology of automatic progress. When it is time to step, I will first inspect the gap between the trouser legs, then decide where to go. A route the eyes have traveled need not be passed off by the feet as a journey they too have completed.