Anthony McCann seeks out the elusive Other with all the conviction and raucous self-loathing of a mad saint. Eroticized, debunked, adored and despised, the sayer of these incantations ventures fearlessly into the known, buoyed only by the persistence of the body in its current manifestation. His penetrating, pervasive doubt lends a perverse clarity to the journey, and lends shape to the spirit world. “I approach the house in tiger pants/ thinking of surrender and of holding on.”
