On a recent trip to the Venice Bienale, which was quite nice, by the way, I made a small 3 day trip to Sardenia.
I stayed outside of Alghero, in a tiny town named Fertilia. There, I was first greeted by its stark minimal appearance. 
After a scorching and beautiful day at the beach, the next I traveled by bus to nearby Alghero. There, I and a friend stumbled upon a french tourist boat heading to Neptune’s Grotto.
After a rather bumpy and exhilerating boatride, we docked rather precariously and scuttled into the 70 million year old cave. 
Once inside, I was stunned, both by its pristine enormity as well as its peaceful self-awareness that it projected. Whenever I feel humbled by nature, it brings me a sense of such intense grounding in both the particular and the general that I can only laugh outloud. Which I did.
And the laughter resonated off of growing walls in a most remarkable way.
Last night, in the backstage room at Le Poisson Rouge in New York, I was talking with Raz Mensai (Badawi), and he mentioned a project he will do in Oporto, Portugal’s catacombs.
It triggered a memory of a film I once saw, where Hermeto Pascoal played a cave as an instrument. Little did I know, it was a grotto.
