ENTERING THE MARINE MAMMAL TANK, A CACOPHONY OF WHISPERS BOMBARDS THE AUDIENCE. THE WHISPERS COME FROM NUDES WITH PLATINUM HAIR AND MATCHING TAN LINES LOUNGING IN THE BLEACHERS. THE TANK IS CAKED OVER IN THICK YELLOW CONCRETE EMBEDDED WITH BRASS. SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMERS IN RESIN HELMETS RISE TO THE SURFACE OF THE WATER, FLOATING INTO KALEIDOSCOPIC SHAPES. THE NUDES’ WHISPERS MORPH INTO A CONTINUAL MELISMA, IN CEASELESS TENSION PLAY.
