The work is preoccupied with how a self gets manufactured. It pulls at inherited scripts—gendered posture, intimacy as performance, the demand to be readable—without replacing them with a cleaner narrative. Recognition is treated as unreliable infrastructure: you are seen, mis-seen, applauded, corrected, left alone with what remains. Solitude and community don’t resolve anything; they shift the pressure from one surface to another.

Rather than offering the usual arc—wound, confession, recovery—Vivisections stays with the mechanics of continuation. Fragmentation is not presented as a flaw to overcome or a fashionable aesthetic; it’s the condition under which the body speaks. Vulnerability shows up as work: breath held, released, rearranged; language arriving in pieces; gesture repeating until it changes meaning.

What emerges is an environment where the personal is not a private story but a material with edges—where the cost of “coherence” becomes audible, visible, physical. The piece insists on the part that doesn't resolve: the self as something provisional, built in public, revised under gaze, and still stubbornly alive.