What does the window of the Ralph Arnold Gallery taste like?
Ask performance artist Ayana Evans.
A week after the opening of her exhibit “How Often Are You Photographed Without Your Permission?”— curated by the 2024-2025 Artist and Scholar-in-Residence Jessica Lanay — Evans returned to Loyola for the Chicago premiere of her performance “Operation Catsuit.”
Three student performers slithered into the gallery as Evans followed behind as Bill Withers’ “Can We Pretend” played over speaker.
Sophia Tripp, a second-year sociology major performing alongside Evans, said she didn’t fully realize she would be performing until she arrived at Evans’ student workshop, which occurred the week prior.
Tripp said she was excited to experience freedom through art.
With a loose script denoting the order of events, Evans emphasized audience participation drives the direction of the performance.
There were several instances of the audience being told what to do but no guidance on how to feel about it.
“I want them to feel something, but I almost feel like I want to pull more of you out of you,” Evans said.
Tripp and fellow student performers reached the center of the crowd and laid on their backs, reaching toward the ceiling, as Lanay wrapped the seated audience in wafts of tulle.
As Withers’ song wound down, Evans directed everyone to hum while thinking about their love, dreams, and wants, invoking a communal vibration.
As the humming reached its peak, the opening notes of Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)” filled the room.
Immediately shifting tones, Evans said it was time to dance, sing, and dissolve inhibitions.
Recording the performance for her marketing and communications job with the Department of Fine and Performing Arts, third-year philosophy major Molly Livesay said the performance turned into much more than an obligatory work trip.
“This builds community, this brings joy to people,” Livesay said.
“It was such an interdisciplinary performance with aspects of fine arts, theater, and music.”
Livesay said she left with more than her required footage — she left with an appreciation for Evan’s unique approach to art.
Through the laughter and lyrics, Evans cleared a space in the center of the room to stand on a chair.
The artist’s signature neon green catsuit was the focal point in the chaotic gallery.
“It’s always high energy,” Lanay said of live performance art.
“It’s always involved and there’s always a certain amount that you have no expectation for because the audience can pretty much do whatever they want.”
Next, Lamps’ “I Owe It To The Girls” played while the student performers threw pillows into the crowd to encourage a pillow fight among audience members.
The song stopped midway through — and the audience with it.
Evans directed the attendees to sit down, close their eyes, and begin to meditate.
Murmurs came from Evans and the student performers, distracting the meditating audience as they wove through the crowd.
Livesay said people seemed unsure, even scared, of participating in the performance.
Yet, Evans’ energy connected everyone in the room, allowing them to release their fears.
“People weren’t as afraid to go for it,” Livesay said.
“They weren’t afraid to be embarrassed because they were like, ‘Oh, we’re doing this together.’ And that provided strength.”
A loud, singular scream interrupted the murmurs.
After a few seconds, Lanay instructed attendees to open their eyes and face the window.
On the sidewalk side of the gallery’s floor-to-ceiling windows, Evans held up a sign instructing the audience to approach her as “Superstar” by Luther Vandross cascaded across the crowd.
Lanay encouraged the audience to sing along, but few obliged.
Evans said she doesn’t choose her music based on what she thinks the audience would know, but what’s true to her.
“I like to have things that I like,” Evans said.
“Things that remind me of my childhood and my family.”
The performance was particularly gratifying for local friends and family like Nabu Pickett, who said Evans receives unwavering support in Chicago, despite largely performing in New York City.
“Ayana attracts love and good people,” Pickett said.
Evans cleaned the outside of the window with rubbing alcohol and a towel before pressing her face against it — some audience members choosing to press their faces back against hers on the other side.
Then, Evans took a bottle of chocolate syrup and poured it across the window, licking it as it dripped down.
Evans took a waft of fabric and a chair and made her way onto West Sheridan Road, steps from the Red Line viaduct.
“I love doing stuff in the street,” Evans said.
“I know that sounds weird, but I love fabric and standing on chairs in the street.
It’s my favorite thing in the world.”
Lanay said the experience curating Evans’ exhibit was “one of the biggest honors of her career so far.”
The honor was enhanced by celebrating the life of performance artist and Evans’ mentor Lorraine O’Grady, who died Dec. 13, according to The New York Times.
Evans and Lanay worked through O’Grady’s loss while putting the exhibit together.
O’Grady was a pioneer for performance artists, Lanay said.
From mentoring students in Loyola’s Fine Arts Program with her Art of Africa class to reaching others through her essays and articles, Lanay said she hopes to continue O’Grady’s legacy of exploration of the fractalization of West African aesthetics in the diaspora.
Both Lanay and Evans said they hope attendees, specifically students, left the performance with more of themselves than when they entered.
“Student freedom first,” Lanay said.
“Student freedom yesterday, today, tomorrow, and always. Period.
image source from：https://loyolaphoenix.com/2025/04/the-chicago-debut-of-ayana-evans-operation-catsuit/
