Beneath the beautiful photograph of a woman water-carrier from eastern Turkey is the 90-minute tape Folk Dance -repeat. The pretty woman is shown as people are shown in photographs: she is in the centre; behind and beside her are unimportant things, incidentals. Once the machine is switched on and plays the first few bars, there is a physical surge of excitement, one straightens up, lifts one's head, gets lighter, almost floating, and now one could get started. But why does it come so hard to me, why does it come so hard to me? What? How good, really, is one's adhesion to the ground? To stand, to fall, to fly.