{"content":[{"text":"pull his audience deep into the choreographic \n mind (Lostmovements). Now he is making \n space and time for the mental and physical \n prowess of harpsichordist Elisabeth Chojnacka \n (1939 – 2017), who bent the use and sound of \n her instrument to her monumental will.","bbox":{"left":0.432953,"top":0.024371,"width":0.480022,"height":0.14912799999999998}},{"text":"Ostensibly, Martens does this by presenting a \n series of seven solos, each set to a particular \n piece of music performed by Chojnacka. From \n the first it becomes clear that Martens’ is \n closely following the angular, clipped tones \n from the instrument: to a recurring, brief \n cluster of short notes in the bass line, he takes \n a series of small steps forward, dipping his \n knees and one shoulder, while looking the \n audience in the eye. To the middle notes he \n stretches his arms sideways and for the higher \n notes, his arms move high up, his forearms \n parallel and sliding backwards and forwards to \n each pluck of the strings.","bbox":{"left":0.432953,"top":0.212696,"width":0.486262,"height":0.35457399999999994}},{"text":"But there are more layers to Martens’ \n performance. The solos are embedded in a \n patchwork of interviews with and about the \n musician. The composers who wrote for her, \n Lucinda Childs who choreographed alongside \n her, and Chojnacka herself. Some of it on \n video, some of it is audio only – which is very \n powerful – and some of it is text, projected \n onto the white backdrop in three languages, \n English, Dutch and French. An image arises of \n Chojnacka as a strong-willed, hard-working, \n talented instrumentalist who could take any \n piece of music and dexterously deepen it with","bbox":{"left":0.432953,"top":0.606468,"width":0.470941,"height":0.3288939999999999}}],"images_bbox":[],"images_bbox_not_text_overlap":[]}