Reflection on 5th Avenue Duets
Sabine and I entered the Tower at exactly 1pm on July 5th 2025. The two act score I wrote, memorized and thoroughly discussed playing in my head. I rode the escalator down to the public seating area, moved a chair to face away from the center of the largest American flag in the building, and sat. This flag was to be my backdrop until 2:00. Sabine, capturing me on livestream and photograph, moved about the four floors of balconies, giftshops, and restaurants.
As I sat, I observed the potent display of the Donald Trump brand, the American flag, and consumerism. Music echoed in the void of the atrium, bouncing off the rose colored marble and golden mirrors. Tourists’ cellphone cameras focused on the patriotic spectacle, sometimes with a smiling poser in the foreground. I recalled the feeling of pausing outside the tower while protesting the United States involvement in the war on Gaza. In my mind, I saw colleagues of mine standing side by side just inside the entrance, holding signs displaying Immigration Customs Enforcement detainees and describing them as “Kidnapped by ICE”. I remembered opening Instagram to see a mass arrest of Jewish Voice for Peace members who flooded the public space shouting “Free Mahmoud Khalil”. But looking at the building, all I saw was a commercialized funhouse, entertaining, deceiving, and disorienting those inside, including myself. The lines are blurred between president and business man, country and cooperations, and politics and business strategy. I understand that the state is a purse with Donald Trump in charge. But the business operation on the lowest four levels of the building is connected only by name. Trump Tower is not a space of federal diplomacy by any means, which raised the question: why use Trump Tower as a place for political protest? The act of shouting demands to the president in this building is as symbolic as the political power living there. The mainstream media is the messenger from protester to president. All I had was my YouTube livestream.
176 views. Not monetized. Sitting still, alone, and in my bright red dress turned very few heads. My chosen act did not draw me visible or notable attention from Trump Tower visitors. But fifty minutes of my stillness generated enough concern for two detectives to begin questioning me. They were not upset but approached me “for my own safety”. When they asked me to alter the performance I complied, as dictated in the score, leading me and Sabine to prematurely begin the next act.
In Act II, heads turned towards my composed performance. I moved and my movement was unusual. Limbs precisely extended in various directions. Thumbs up then thumbs down. I had practiced this dance repetitively, but never in the view of this sized crowd, which included security who hovered close by, their gaze making me hyper aware. I skillfully dropped to my knees and was back on my feet in a matter of seconds. I crossed my arms, held my foot in my hand, and bent forward with my arms behind my back. Every pose, twenty-five total, and every transition was exact. Sabine photographed every one throughout five predetermined locations in and outside the building. When shooting, the space between Sabine, the lens, and myself became a no-pass zone for pedestrians. Was this out of respect or to avoid being captured on photograph? Either way, they stopped and watched. And if they kept walking their eyes often stayed on me and Sabine. In Act II, the two of us controlled the movement of the passersby. Bodies organized around our duet.