Juli's inconvenient truth

Sara Juli's dance with Death--now creeping towards its unavoidable terminus on November 2 at Performance Space 122--offers neither philosophical nor spiritual solace. It is what it is. Death happens, and in the course of it, it shows us exactly who we are. And that is what it is, too.

Managing to come across as both the proverbial elephant in the living room and the dying swan, Juli gives us a mess of things to ingest, if not digest. Pregnant and wearing a complicated, unsightly outfit that makes her look ungainly, she's the unexpected and unwanted guest at the party, the scorned one wielding the fickle finger of fate, speaking sometimes with clarity and unshakeable certainty, sometimes in gibberish but equal certainty, and sometimes just in a dull, mealy-mouthed mumble. (Death makes sense and makes no sense.) And Juli is, at times, the victim of fate who becomes our responsibility.

This party lasts for about 5o minutes, and there's not a minute in there that lets us off the hook. Not even the humor--so much a part of who she is as a person and as a performer--goes down easily, and when it comes, it is a tenuous and fragile and self-conscious thing.

It was easier--and a bit more fun--to examine our feelings about money with The Money Conversation, Juli's celebrated 2006 solo, despite the fact that talking openly about money is also a big American taboo. That work generated conversation, indeed, as Juli hoped, and it will be interesting to see if this new piece will have a similar result. Details, schedule and ticketing information