Joni’s Intima Pours Salt on the Wound
Intima made its debut at 16 Weirfield Street, a neighborhood home to underground performance staples such as Trans Pecos and TV Eye. Its permanent settlement marks a shift from past iterations thrown at clubs like Market Hotel and H0l0, with DJs of the Club Eat, umru, and Juliana Huxtable variety. Joni believes “it’s easy to go to a club and disappear, but with rave music and performance, we can reverse that effect, and bring people together in a powerful moment.”
Following that spirit, the new Intima will focus on thoughtful and daring performance pieces: Isa Spector, a movement director with a recent Hunter Schafer collaboration, presented a movement piece to mark the venue’s second night of programming. Artist and performer CrackheadBarney&Friends, who shared the stage in July with Nile Harris at his Abrons Art Center run “this house is not a home”, will see an upcoming slot at Intima as well.
Hung from a high staircase, a black Telfar puffer-bag stood guard over audiences as the launch night played out. Rising smoke and a harsh backdrop of raw concrete, wood, and murky light were on display, just how Joni likes it: “Performance venues in New York can be so preened and polished, but we’re doing this with authenticity, and want it reflected in the space too.”
The crowd featured jubilant spectators, photographers, and fans in regalia that can only be described as the Retail Pharmacy-Anna Bolinification of the Bushwick club circuit.
As the lights went down, eerie tones and electronic sounds emanated from the walls. Joni, the grand-dame of the evening, descended a dark set of stairs in a lacy garment and delicately taped heels. Collaborator Hattie Wiener (87 years old), sat on with a soft smile.
Performance captured by Regev Pardo
The duo wrestled both emotionally and physically, using a piano as a prop for playing, climbing, and culminating in the instrument’s tumble into a tumultuous cloud of dust and sound. After the piano's demise, a moment of palpable fear and excitement lingered, opening a mental gateway that seemed to murmur: "What could possibly unfold next?"
The paramount action of the evening occurred as Joni, perched atop a stack of speakers, showered salt from a vase onto Wiener's motionless form, with a haunting monologue as the backdrop.
The pulsating energy of Intima is not happenstance; it's a deliberate manifestation of Joni's commitment and urgency to create community. Intima, named for the innermost coating of an organ, is a testament to the intimacy and trust that converges to form the essence of the space — inviting all to partake in the unfolding enigma.
