Of Anxiety and Hope
There is a moment at the start of Alex Prager's Run (2022) when you can see a poster in the window of a pristine cast-iron-style storefront, "repair service" printed in bold red letters. It is part of an establishing shot that drops us in perfect-seeming small town America, maybe in the 1950s: sunlight on parked cars, a spotless sidewalk. What could ever need to be repaired here?
An answer comes fast. To the choric swell of Ellen Reid's 2019 composition, also titled Run, four suited figures heave a giant reflective sphere around a corner and send it barreling down Main Street. The orb, now a wrecking ball, slams through everything in its path. It crushes a flower pushing up though the pavement, smashes windows, flattens a man into the ground, and jettisons a woman into the air. Townspeople scatter, screaming. The sphere, once gleaming, gets grimier, smeared by the hands that set it rolling and dirtied as it spreads chaos...Read the full article in the printed issue. Get OVER Journal 4
