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“A mass of dust, world’s momentary slave, Is man, in state of our old Adam made, Soon born to die, soon flourishing to fade.”
(Barnabe Barne – English poet, 1569—1609)
This is a close-up of one of those four men who were emptying plaster bags from a truck in my street in Varanasi (Benaras).
It was very dusty, although they reminded me “butoh” dancers performing with white-body makeup.
This japanese contemporary dance came after the second world war and among several things the choreography is a remembrance of the suffering of Hiroshima’s atomic bomb.
It raises the question of how is it still possible to dance after such a thing and in some ways it is easy to compare this concept of art to those workers living in dust.
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