The artist’s performance videos invoke the wild, inestimable human spirit and make Black people the characters of universal stories.
STOWE, Vt. — Across three adjacent screens, a warrior slathered in black oil and clothed only in dark briefs draws her double-edged sword, carefully, ceremoniously, across another combatant’s. The opponent falls back, both sword arm and sword outstretched to keep her at bay. The warrior grips her blade with her naked left hand, applies force. Her opponent sinks to her knees still holding her own sword like a talisman, like a shield, like a plea for détente. The aggressor pulls back as murky crimson water swims up and around both warriors’ legs. Around them swirl six other performers, all armed with swords and clothed similarly, with their skin wholly coated in a dark lubricant so that only their palms, the insides of their ears, or their gleaming teeth break the obsidian spell. Even the typically white sclera of their eyes look dark (an effect I find out later is produced by wearing contact lenses) so they seem like members of an alien race performing a ritual of yet unknown significance.
I am watching “TЯUTH,” a three-channel video installation by Miles Greenberg at his solo show at the Current in Stowe, Vermont. The video is a lyrical, 15-minute distillation of a seven-hour durational performance staged in 2023 at Powerhouse Arts in Brooklyn, New York. Though the performers, who are all Black, make dramatic cuts and parries, as a former fencer I can tell they have carefully rehearsed, not intending to hurt each other. Greenberg confirmed this, conveying to me via the Current’s curator and executive director, Rachel Moore, that the swords are steel but the edges dulled. Regardless, the scenes are visually arresting. Throughout the video most of the engagements shown involve two fighters, but one scenario involves several fighters attempting to subdue a single warrior, which raises the stakes of danger, though I am relatively sure no one will be harmed.
One of the most entrancing moments arrives when Greenberg, who is one of the performers, draws the flat of his sword against his tongue, thus transferring the black pigment to his mouth as he smiles conspiratorially at the camera. I am reminded of Friedrich Nietzsche’s contention in his On the Genealogy of Morality that the human animal was originally incalculable and wild, not acting in predictable, normalized ways. He argues that our development of custom, law, and punishment has caused us to become calculable despite our chaotic animal nature. In an adjoining gallery, another video work even more powerfully invokes that sense of our wild, inestimable spirit.
“LE MIROIR,” a six-channel video presentation displayed on six monitors installed in a circle, is the second and final work in this show. It consists of an edited recording of a 2025 performance at Marrakesh's historic El Badi Palace for the 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair, combined with footage shot in the Emirati desert on the border with Oman. There are 10 performers, again covered in black pigment and clothed in black athletic wear at various points in the video, standing atop plinths with mirrored surfaces and seated within a serene pool of water. The plinths are the mirrors, reflecting the surrounding landscape as the performers strike stylized and statuesque poses. Their sclera and irises here appear all white, again making them seem like users of magic, and they are attended by local animals that might represent their familiars: piebald pythons and white storks. At one point, a lone man sits atop a mirrored disc in a modified lotus position while a python swirls around his bare neck, chest, and shoulders. A significant part of the work follows Greenberg and another man engaging in physical play: walking while holding hands, tumbling down a desert dune together, carrying each other on their backs. The Current describes the work as “a surreal queer love story inspired by the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice,” which seems plausible but may be a bit too precise for what Greenberg ultimately offers.
Facts Only
* Miles Greenberg is an artist.
* A solo exhibition of Greenberg's work is held at the Current in Stowe, Vermont.
* Rachel Moore is the curator and executive director of the Current.
* "TЯUTH" is a three-channel video installation.
* "TЯUTH" is a 15-minute distillation of a seven-hour performance staged in 2023 at Powerhouse Arts in Brooklyn, New York.
* The performers in "TЯUTH" are Black and use dulled steel swords.
* Performers in "TЯUTH" wear dark briefs, black lubricant on their skin, and dark contact lenses.
* "LE MIROIR" is a six-channel video presentation displayed on six monitors in a circle.
* "LE MIROIR" contains footage from a 2025 performance at El Badi Palace in Marrakesh for the 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair.
* "LE MIROIR" contains footage filmed in the Emirati desert on the border with Oman.
* Performers in "LE MIROIR" wear black athletic wear, black pigment, and white contact lenses.
* Animals appearing in "LE MIROIR" include piebald pythons and white storks.
Executive Summary
Miles Greenberg’s solo exhibition at the Current in Stowe, Vermont, features two primary video installations, "TЯUTH" and "LE MIROIR," which translate large-scale durational performances into cinematic experiences. "TЯUTH" depicts Black performers engaged in choreographed, ritualistic sword combat, utilizing black oil and dark contact lenses to create an otherworldly aesthetic. The work explores themes of conflict and ritual through carefully rehearsed movements with dulled steel weapons.
"LE MIROIR" shifts the setting to Marrakesh and the Emirati desert, utilizing mirrored plinths and a palette of black pigment and white contact lenses. This installation juxtaposes statuesque poses and interaction with animals, such as pythons and storks, with intimate physical play between Greenberg and another man. While the gallery describes the work as a queer love story inspired by the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, the imagery remains open to broader interpretations of magic and the human spirit.
Full Take
The strongest version of this narrative presents art as a vehicle for reclaiming "universal" storytelling, using the Black body not as a site of historical trauma, but as a canvas for myth, magic, and queer intimacy. By stripping away traditional markers of identity through obsidian pigment and alien-like lenses, the work attempts to move beyond the "calculable" nature of social categorization into a realm of raw, inestimable human spirit.
The prose relies heavily on the author's personal intellectual framework, specifically referencing Nietzsche's theories on the "wild" human animal to provide a philosophical scaffolding for the visual experience. This is a classic aesthetic interpretation where the observer's academic associations lend depth to the artist's intent. However, the narrative remains descriptive and appreciative rather than argumentative; it seeks to evoke the feeling of the art rather than persuade the reader of a specific political or social thesis.
Patterns detected: none
The underlying paradigm is one of "Universalism through Particularism"—using specific bodies and curated aesthetics to argue for a shared, primal human experience. It echoes the historical pattern of the avant-garde, where the "surreal" is used to bypass rational social constraints to access a deeper emotional truth.
This approach affirms human agency by centering the performer's body as a source of power and mystery. The primary benefit is the expansion of who is allowed to occupy the role of the "mythic hero" or "magical being" in contemporary art.
Bridge Questions: How does the use of "alien" aesthetics (contact lenses, pigment) either enhance or obscure the intended universalism of the Black experience? If the Orpheus and Eurydice framing is "too precise," what other myths better describe the tension between the choreographed violence of "TЯUTH" and the intimacy of "LE MIROIR"?
Counterstrike Scan: A coordinated campaign would use this narrative to perform "sanewashing," using high-art aesthetics to mask more aggressive underlying ideologies. The actual content is a standard art review and does not match this pattern.