In con­struct­ed are­nas, fields of oper­a­tion with bound­aries and com­part­ments, sta­tions and poles, chan­nels and cir­cuits, bod­ies are asked to move and behave in pat­terns and sequences in rela­tion to each oth­er. They are asked to act in reac­tion to each oth­er, in con­cert with all oth­ers. They are giv­en direc­tions, prompts and codes, restric­tions and con­di­tions, all in order to pro­pel the col­lec­tive cre­ation for­ward to its ful­fill­ment. There is no accom­plish­ment, no achieve­ment, no prod­uct, and no result. There is no objec­tive, no desired out­come. Unlike a game, there is no indi­vid­ual moti­va­tion, no strat­e­gy, no win­ning or los­ing. Unlike per­for­mance, it is not pre­pared or rehearsed. It is more an open-end­ed exer­cise. The instruc­tions are gen­er­al — go this way, go that way, say this, say that — but style or man­ner of expres­sion is irrel­e­vant to the whole. The con­straints of the work, whether mate­r­i­al or con­cep­tu­al, pro­vide a struc­ture to be infil­trat­ed by the com­pos­ite spon­ta­neous response. There is only one poten­tial point to the exer­cise: the ampli­fi­ca­tion of joy. If any­thing, as artist, I — in the first per­son sin­gu­lar now — can iden­ti­fy in myself and in the par­tic­i­pants, an instinct for com­mon joy. The sense of com­mu­nal activ­i­ty, the shar­ing of a mutu­al task, even (or espe­cial­ly) one with no clear objec­tive where the focus of the work becomes the process itself, shin­ing light on the expe­ri­ence of coop­er­a­tion as it occurs simul­ta­ne­ous­ly, pro­duces joy by acci­dent, not by design. If this work could be con­sid­ered inves­tiga­tive, which is inevitable if not inten­tion­al, as obser­va­tion and analy­sis are inex­tri­ca­ble from my expe­ri­ence of the work as artist, the find­ings reveal and reaf­firm our incli­na­tion to cre­ate plea­sure in common.