["Joan Jonas: New York Performances"] Growing up in New York, I was very lucky to be living near museums. I remember going to MoMA and going to the Metropolitan Museum, and I remember the first time I ever went to the opera. It was a Wagner opera. I went with my mother, and I remember I had toys that I was playing with. I just remember the valkyrie-- the women dressed in armor. Big women with horns on their head. Then later when I was a little bit older, for instance, I was lucky enough to see a Balanchine piece: "Afternoon of a Faun" with Tanaquil Le Clercq. You know, things like that make a big impression on you when you're young. ["Organic Honey's Vertical Roll" (1973)] I wanted to develop my own language, and the minute I started performing, I began to invent in a different way-- through my body movements, through how I use music, sound, and three-dimensional space I was very interested in film and how to translate my work into another medium so that it would not disappear. My first film, it came from an indoor performance-- my first performance at... it was at Saint Peter's Church, actually. We decided to film it outdoors; I wanted to put it outdoors. ["Wind" (1968)] And it was just coincidence--it was the coldest, windiest day of the year in the Long Island Sound, right on the beach. It was very, very difficult. It was really freezing. I went there with a group of young artists who were my friends and we worked together. Judy Padow, Eve Corey, Keith Hollingworth... they were the performers. I was in it, too. Peter Campus did the camera, and then we edited it together. [Songdelay by Joan Jonas] ["Songdelay" (1973)] [sound of two blocks being clapped against each other] [sound of a ship's horn] In some of my pieces there are other artists, like the outdoor piece, "Songdelay". The people in that little group was Gordon Matta-Clark, and Carol Gooden, and Tina Girouard, and Steve Paxton, and Penelope. [sound of two blocks being clapped against each other, delayed from the visuals] I'd set it up and give them all kinds of props and objects or tasks. For instance, Gordon and Carol just painted a circle and a line. That's what they did. And then they walked back and forth with a stick. Penelope, I gave her the sticks to play with and she stuck them in her pants and did a little dance. So, people both followed directions and then they played with the objects. So it was very playful and people had more time, and I'd say it was a more relaxed, kind of, atmosphere. In a way, we all helped each other and worked together, and people really enjoyed being in other people's works. You know, everybody had time to do that. In the Sixties and Seventies, it was comparatively easy to do a work outdoors. You didn't have to get permission--you could just go there. And there was many interesting sites, like the place where I performed "Songdelay". I first did it at Jones Beach, but then brought it to Chambers and the West Side, right on the river. And the piers were still there. It was beautiful! [sound of a ship's horn] So that's all gone now. You can't do that anymore. ["Street Scene" (1976)] [sounds of people singing in the streets] Then another time later in 1976, I went down at night with Pat Steir and Andy Mann, and we just improvised for the camera in the streets--in Wall Street. You can't do that anymore, either. You know, so that whole playfulness is gone. It's not something I do so easily anymore. I had to write to the New York Times to say, you know, "No one's ever reviewed my work." People didn't know how to write about it. And then the guy came to every performance, but that was only at that moment, you know. Everybody knew that that moment was special, in the Sixties and Seventies. It was a special moment. I'm not saying it's better or worse, but it was just a special moment. ["Joan Jonas Dances As Organic Honey, Fictional Woman"] Now, young artists in other places are doing the same. Of course, they always will be. So maybe in Brooklyn, or the Midwest, or Chicago, that this kind of work is going on, for sure. But New York is not so exciting to use. There's not so many empty lots or places.