Nick Dunston

“Tardigrades”

Originally, I considered the title of this piece — “Tardigrades” — to be a bit of a misnomer. Tardigrades are some of the toughest living animals in the planet. They can survive lack of food or water for up to three decades, can withstand extreme temperatures, are highly resistant to physical harm, and have even been reported to be able to survive the vacuum that is outer space. The place inside of me from which this piece comes, on the other hand, is a meditation on the fragility of the modern human. From that same place comes a buried desire: the desire to survive as well as tardigrades, to be as protective not only on a physical level, but, if this is not asking too much, on emotional and mental levels as well. 

But it turns out, “Tardigrades” is not entirely a misnomer. For one, tardigrades are microscopic — their immediate world is more than enough for a space of endless wonder for the unknown. Additionally, their toughness comes with a price — they often must slow down their metabolism in a way that shuts them down, shields them, and renders them to nothing more than simply being alive. This piece was written during my biggest and most drastic life change. A change that was informed by a force that every human on the planet is currently dealing with, a global pandemic. With so many unnecessarily prompt endings of lives, and a worldwide rethinking of “life as we know it”, it is easy for me to get overwhelmed to the point of feeling helpless, perhaps longing for the survival skills of tardigrades. And while humans aren’t as good at surviving, simply surviving is not the only part of our genetic programming. We thrive, we create, we share our vulnerabilities with each other, and sometimes, a global catastrophe is the only thing that can remind us of how fragile we are. 

Tardigrades does not attempt to provide a solution nor reconciliation for the death and damage that we have faced, and that which we will continue to face throughout 2020 and beyond. Rather, it is an offering, a gentle reminder, that we are not indestructible. It is a humble piece of encouragement to continue to try our best, to acknowledge our mortality just a little bit more, and do strip our wants down to the bare essentials of what we need to be nourished and fulfilled. Each and every one of my works are, in part, declarations of self-worth and self-love. I find that when we don’t try to protect ourselves the way tardigrades do, that we are opening ourselves up to levels of pain that could be simply unimaginable. But in many cases, we also have the choice to be as vulnerable as we will let ourselves be — and the levels of beauty and joy that that brings are also unimaginable. Personally, I’d pick that over being able to survive in space. Every time. —Nick Dunston

“Tardigrades” was generously commissioned by the Baryshnikov Arts Center (NYC, NY)