Figure Drawings 2
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Figure Drawings 2 by Lily Selthofner, pen on paper, 12″x10,” 2023. Figure Drawings 2 by Lily Selthofner, pen on paper, 12″x10,” 2023. -
Figure Drawings 1
Figure Drawings 1 by Lily Selthofner, pastel on paper, 12″x10,” 2022. 
Figure Drawings 1 by Lily Selthofner, pastel on paper, 12″x10,” 2022. -
Caution Wet Floor
Caution Wet Floor Caution Wet Floor (2/23): Co-directed with Eva Thomas, Caution Wet Floor is a movement and visual arts study of revolutionary pathways, and cautionary signs. This filmic journey explores agency, boundary, and the murky depth of the industrial subconscious, wandering through underground tunnels. Within the uncanny industrial world of liminal spaces are basements and laundromats. The slip of paint on the human body, footprints, when dance creates its material artifact intentionally. The painting is a language and has been interpreted as a choreographic notation. It is an archaeology in time, with singing and soundscapes from the same basement, and grey timeless echoes, chasing. The story perpetually unfolds as the pathway revolutionizes itself — a chamber. Fear holds us back from inevitable transformations, all lines eventually reveal themselves as circles. Through movement, song, and painting, the piece questions our attachment to imagined security in pathways and beckons a surrender to the creative truths in winding sunless tunnels
Questions from Deborah Hay’s choreographic inquiries in Using the Sky: A Dance https://lilyselthofner.com/climbing-lost/
Climbing, Lost by Lily Selthofner — poetry used in soundOn the sonic exploration of chambers in this hallway:
I am walking through a long and windy hallway in the basement of my building, using my flip-flops as an attempt at echolocation (and time-keeping). The metronome of my steps reflects the tension in my toes, and the slope of this perpetually down-hill hallway. I can hear my memories from earlier in the day resonating in the too-hot fan, the smell of the trash shoot’s opening being pushed around. The tensions are apparent in my movement and in my perceptions of the sound itself. Likewise, exiting the liminal space, alone in the dark, implies entering the real-world, and I don’t know which I prefer. Unfortunately, the sounds I make in this hallway can probably be heard by people in the laundry room nearby (even though that space is also quite loud). My consciousness is external as I listen to myself from afar, trying to blend in with the resonances of the hallway.
The sonic effect is irreducible to either objectivity or subjectivity – in that the sound effect describes “the sound milieu of a socio-cultural community, and the “internal soundscape” of every individual” (9). From here, I wonder exactly how conscious perceptions can also distort the physical signal, as the physical signal can distort perception – especially in the technological infinity of modernity (8). It is difficult for me to conceptualize, as I already felt that the relationship between internal and external was likewise irreducible to either objectivity or subjectivity– for example, what is the true difference between saying a mantra aloud or just in one’s head? Do others’ perceptions of my saying something, through the external space, change the physical nature of the sound, by altering its meaning perhaps? Further, in a telepathic context, how do other conscious beings (animate, moving – everything from other humans to the objects in my room) affect the nature of sound that “I” emanate? Perhaps a cluttered mind and a cluttered room are issues of sound rather than/alongside sight…
I wonder how defining sound attributes with language, or even just the conscious awareness expressed through language, changes the nature of sound. Is sound self-defining, having autonomy and agency, or is sound only an aspect of such animacy? Is language the best way to share articulations about sound, and come to the same page? Would urban noise pollution be less physically and psychologically damaging if it was talked about differently? Or thought about differently? How has the nature of sound changed with the advent of technology – doing this work without ‘conscious input?’ At this moment I am seeing the importance of teaching how to listen. I am also wondering about how my relationship to movement can change how I listen. I just read a quote from Trisha Brown (postmodern dancer/choreographer who didn’t use music with her work until much later in her career) saying that because music inspired feeling and movement within her, she felt it was ‘cheating,’ or at least distracting, to her goal of exploring movement in a ‘pure’ way. While I agree, I also think that every inevitable movement is also an inevitable sound, and alters the way we perceive sound. This ties back to the pace of my flip flops reinforcing the state of listening that was co-created by my movement, the perception of sound, and the sound ‘itself.’ Perhaps the solution here is a focus on internal rhythms, and the infinite chamber of perception.
Visual Art Component of Caution Wet Floor -
Exploration: Pathways
Written exploratory response to questioning posed by choreographer Deborah Hay, excerpted from Using the Sky: A Dance. Made for an assignment in the Dance Composition: Form course at Barnard College.
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Exploration: Between Dance and Anthropology
Exploration: Between Dance and Anthropology by Lily Selthofner -
Exploration: What does it mean to Speak Your Truth?
Exploration: What does it mean to Speak Your Truth? By Lily Selthofner -
Stillness
Thoughts on Stillness by Lily Selthofner -
Splash Again(st)
Sometimes people feel like fish out of water.
This short film and visual art piece are components of a performance art work exploring stillness, created for the Performance Art course at Columbia University.
Created February 2023.
Splash Again(st) Visual Art Component 
Process — Thoughts on Stillness -
Hold Them Near
Hold Them Near by Lily Selthofner, acrylic on paper, 24″ x 18,” 2022. -
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Premonition Lighthouse
Premonition Lighthouse by Lily Selthofner, watercolor on paper, 4″x6,” 2022. -
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10th Dimension
10th Dimension by Lily Selthofner, mixed media on paper, 8.5″x 11,” 2020. -
9th Dimension
9th Dimension by Lily Selthofner, mixed media on paper, 8.5″ x 11,” 2020. -
Earthly Romances
A poem by Lily Selthofner.
What A Weird Place to End Up in by Lily Selthofner. the sun grew in two sizes
and the flowers became mountains.
teetering above
little ants orbiting summer skin
mistakes float on falling leaves
aching knees
marching westward
towards redemption
sorting open skies
with thunder breaths
and forgiving dances
antsy steps into vastness.
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The Appeal of Cremation
A poem by Lily Selthofner, 2021.
Photo by Lily Selthofner, 2016. release into the smoke
ashy fiery flames
burn the same as ancient wood.
a rising phoenix
or a slow decompose
earthy wormey dirt
breaks down my baby bones.
an immortal transition
away from life’s debt
face melting, skin burning
maggots fill the lily.
inhale, exhale, stop.
which to choose:
to fly or to rot.
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Creek
A poem by Lily Selthofner, 2021.
A Small Crossing by Lily Selthofner time, insurmountable and irrelevant
children, innocent and…We are love
able, craving simple warmth in tumultuous weather…
sharp edges drawing silent blood.
a future with… a present without
I pour from a cup filled with riveting ocean waves
sending sprinkles from afar
with uncertainty, may we dive.
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Washed Out
A poem by Lily Selthofner, 2021.
Eastern Horizon by Lily Selthofner. the same force that rolls waves upon the shore
sweetens breeze and echoes arial song
the backbone
brushes a woman’s dress as she walks
and screeches to her silent serenade
early ocean foam carries scavengers
little trinkets:
wind-washed seashells
casting little shadows in the late morning sun.
the waves ricochet
in fortune days
hiding empty messages from above
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The Mystery of the Future
A poem by Lily Selthofner, 2022.
Photo by Lily Selthofner, 2022. cyclical, seasonal
what burden to bear?
the weight may sparsely disappear
ease
spots trouble in the distance
the telescope of uncertainty
smeared with the fog of conditioning
sticky fingers wiping away
attachment to the good, bad, looming and lingering
in favor of a lighter next time.
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Recycling
A poem by Lily Selthofner, 2021.
Photo by Lily Selthofner, 2022. a looming threat manifests
in each gray moment unspent
simply sedated, devoid of sacred
anxiously awaited in bed.
sometimes,
I miss when things were fun and easy.
sometimes,
things are fun and easy.
the breeze ties your hair back
so you see, clearly
the universe is giving.
‘wasting away’
is gathering the strength
to sink into ease again.
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Refraction
A poem by Lily Selthofner, 2021.
Breath by Lily Selthofner people all around me
are they hurting, are they healing?
are they writing, are they reading?
are they feeling, seeing
the world through which they hurry?
an imperfectly manicured journey, scrolling vulnerability
as complex opacity confuses passerby
eyes blinded by neon lights
while hands
grasp towards what is transparent.
Do you belong here:
in the city, on the street?
or with ancient earthworms digging under your feet?
may we see each other in timeless hues, idle mysteries uncovered.
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Curiosity
A poem by Lily Selthofner, 2021.
Photo by Lily Selthofner, 2022. wheels push the days into months
learned figures of god to follow
reality left unswallowed
loving hugs to marvel
with memories of source preceding,
beauty lingering
may each young vessel of potentiality
emerge unscathed, wrapped in the knowledge of birdsong
into each coming day and month
a baby, growing old
growing up.
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Concrete Talons
A poem by Lily Selthofner, January 13, 2022.
Photo by Lily Selthofner, 2022. scavenging
little moments of daydream escape.
from school bus to subway train
I travel
to and from the same location.
roads paved, from rural hometowns
to massive Manhattan highways
everyone waits
for the light to change.
We are all the same.
Fill my backpack with your labored desires,
so you may rest. sweet relief
remains submissive
to the beck and call of heavy traffic.
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Fatigues
A poem by Lily Selthofner, November 7, 2021.
Numbness by Lily Selthofner. hunger left unsatiated
by an empty break.
berate the day–
arrive late
to every calling.
a fragile child
gripping heavy wrists
tackles an impossible option–
feel or function?
stagger through the thick mud of self-hatred
reach for the door–
before the enemy consumes.
bland years stink of decay
the soldier remains
shackled to the frail bed frame.
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Seven Minutes
A poem by Lily Selthofner, 2021.
Photo by Lily Selthofner, 2022. decibels sway,
ache and echo.
overwhelming,
sentimental.
rolling wheels screech.
ebb and flow
effervescent urban glow
alarms the tired benches of gray halls,
weeping into blankets
of cold, timeless boredom.
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Full Moon in Aries
A poem by Lily Selthofner, Oct. 2021.
A Constellation by Lily Selthofner don’t part
from dreams. open eyes
release
anxiety
one foot forward
the other lingers
behind
until the next swing.
a dip plunging in
seek refuge in its entirety
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Climbing, Lost
A poem by Lily Selthofner, November 2, 2021, Manhattan, NY.
An Optimistic, Nostalgic Tree by Lily Selthofner ‘Uphill battles should never be climbed –
alone.
find a perch, enjoy the view
nostalgic perceptions
wander towards the present
where I may seek to take an easy step with you.’
