{"id":92,"count":35,"description":"Whose Body, Whose Voice <\/em>proposes a series of works witnessing my process of reclaiming personal agency through various representations of myself.<\/em>\r\n\r\nIn my decision to become an artist, knowing where to begin wasn\u2019t obvious. It took time to know what to make, to know what was important. But, I knew that I had to remake myself, put my body back together. It did not feel like it belonged to me. It belonged to some other plan for who and what a young woman should be.\r\n\r\nThe project to repatriate my body through my art found a starting point in the nineteenth century Grimm Brothers\u2019 fairy tale, The Handless Maiden<\/em>. I saw the dismemberment of the heroin\u2019s hands as a metaphor for women\u2019s loss of power, usurped by patriarchy and technology, creating trauma that limits women\u2019s sense of agency.\r\n\r\nIf I were to be an artist, the project had to begin with finding my hands. My first works in printmaking and in sculpture were filled with representations of my own hands, folded like those of the Mona Lisa and the image of a figurine of a girl with her head bowed and her hands held behind her back. I discovered women represented in centuries of art history in similar passive positions. Inhabiting these gestures personally through casting my own hands in plaster and paper was a way for me to nourish a different kind of power, to find understanding and strength in where and who I was.\r\n\r\nI made casts of my torso and feet, representations of tongues, as well as an armless figure inspired by the performance work of Ana Mendieta. The feet are grounded and active.\r\n\r\nIn the artist book Continuum\/Unfolding<\/em> the hands begin to unfold, and connect to a community of women writers. Another artist book, INTERSECTIONS conjunctions<\/em>\u00a0is a pivotal, in-depth exploration of women and space through writing.\r\n\r\nIn the series Neige noir,<\/em> I worked with a representation of my full body, just standing in the world, being connected and permeable to whatever is out there. These works are transformed, many years later, in the Words Fell, Finally<\/em> series. Here the figure is torn but reassembled. There are often two bodies in these works, one present, the other absent.\r\n\r\nIn two recent video works, I am fully present. In Crawl,<\/em> I emerge from a rocky crevasse and walk away from the camera. In Closer<\/em>, my body is situated in the expanse of the landscape, filmed by a descending drone camera. As it approaches, I pluck it out of the air - a gesture that denies its gaze and asserts my personal agency over my body and my voice.\r\n\r\n

Karen Trask in collaboration with Don Goodes, 2025<\/span>\r\n\r\n

===<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\u00c0 qui ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix?<\/em> propose une s\u00e9rie d\u2019\u0153uvres t\u00e9moignant de mon processus de r\u00e9appropriation de mon pouvoir personnel \u00e0 travers diverses repr\u00e9sentations de moi-m\u00eame.\r\n\r\nLorsque j\u2019ai d\u00e9cid\u00e9 de devenir artiste, il n\u2019\u00e9tait pas \u00e9vident de savoir par o\u00f9 commencer. Il a fallu du temps pour savoir ce qu\u2019il fallait faire, pour savoir ce qui \u00e9tait important. Mais je savais que je devais me reconstruire, remettre mon corps en \u00e9tat. Il ne me semblait pas m\u2019appartenir. Il appartenait \u00e0 une autre vision de ce que devait \u00eatre une jeune femme.\r\n\r\nLe projet de rapatrier mon corps \u00e0 travers mon art a trouv\u00e9 son point de d\u00e9part dans le conte de f\u00e9es des fr\u00e8res Grimm, La jeune fille sans mains,<\/em> datant du 19e<\/sup>\u00a0si\u00e8cle. J\u2019ai vu le d\u00e9membrement des mains de l\u2019h\u00e9ro\u00efne comme une m\u00e9taphore de la perte de pouvoir des femmes, usurp\u00e9 par le patriarcat et la technologie, cr\u00e9ant un traumatisme qui limite le sentiment de pouvoir personnel des femmes.\r\n\r\nSi je voulais \u00eatre artiste, le projet devait commencer par retrouver mes mains. Mes premi\u00e8res \u0153uvres en gravure et en sculpture \u00e9taient remplies de repr\u00e9sentations de mes propres mains, repli\u00e9es comme celles de la Joconde et d\u2019une figurine de jeune fille avec la t\u00eate baiss\u00e9e et les mains jointes derri\u00e8re son dos. J\u2019ai d\u00e9couvert que les femmes repr\u00e9sent\u00e9es dans des si\u00e8cles d\u2019histoire de l\u2019art adoptaient souvent des positions similaires, passives. Habiter personnellement ces gestes en moulant mes propres mains dans le pl\u00e2tre et le papier \u00e9tait une fa\u00e7on de nourrir un autre type de pouvoir, de trouver de la force et de la compr\u00e9hension dans ce que j\u2019\u00e9tais et l\u00e0 o\u00f9 j\u2019\u00e9tais.\r\n\r\nJ\u2019ai r\u00e9alis\u00e9 des moulages de mon torse et de mes pieds, des repr\u00e9sentations de langues, ainsi qu\u2019une figure sans bras inspir\u00e9e du travail de performance d\u2019Ana Mendieta. Les pieds sont ancr\u00e9s et actifs.\r\n\r\nDans le livre d\u2019artiste Continuum\/Unfolding<\/em>, les mains commencent \u00e0 se d\u00e9plier et \u00e0 se connecter \u00e0 une communaut\u00e9 d\u2019\u00e9crivaines. Autre livre d\u2019artiste, INTERSECTIONS conjunctions<\/em> est une exploration en profondeur des femmes et de l\u2019espace par le biais de l\u2019\u00e9criture.\r\n\r\nDans la s\u00e9rie Neige noire,<\/em> j\u2019ai travaill\u00e9 avec une repr\u00e9sentation de mon corps entier, simplement debout dans le monde, connect\u00e9 et perm\u00e9able \u00e0 tout ce qui existe. Ces \u0153uvres sont transform\u00e9es plusieurs ann\u00e9es plus tard dans la s\u00e9rie Words Fell, Finally<\/em>. Ici, la figure est d\u00e9chir\u00e9e mais r\u00e9assembl\u00e9e. Il y a souvent deux corps dans ces \u0153uvres\u00a0: l\u2019un pr\u00e9sent, l\u2019autre absent.\r\n\r\nDans deux \u0153uvres vid\u00e9o r\u00e9centes, je suis pleinement pr\u00e9sente. Dans Crawl,<\/em> j\u2019\u00e9merge d\u2019une crevasse rocheuse et m\u2019\u00e9loigne de l\u2019appareil photo. Dans Closer<\/em>, mon corps se situe dans l\u2019immensit\u00e9 du paysage, film\u00e9 par une cam\u00e9ra drone en descente. Alors qu\u2019elle s\u2019approche, je la saisis en plein vol \u2013 un geste qui refuse son regard et affirme mon pouvoir personnel sur mon corps et ma voix.\r\n\r\n

Traduction: M\u00e9lissa Guay<\/p>","link":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/awtheme\/whose-body-whose-voice\/","name":"Whose body, Whose Voice \u2013 \u00c0\u00a0qui\u00a0ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix","slug":"whose-body-whose-voice","taxonomy":"awtheme","parent":0,"meta":{"order":3},"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nWhose body, Whose Voice \u2013 \u00c0\u00a0qui\u00a0ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix Archives - Karen Trask<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/awtheme\/whose-body-whose-voice\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Whose body, Whose Voice \u2013 \u00c0\u00a0qui\u00a0ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix Archives - Karen Trask\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Whose Body, Whose Voice proposes a series of works witnessing my process of reclaiming personal agency through various representations of myself. In my decision to become an artist, knowing where to begin wasn\u2019t obvious. It took time to know what to make, to know what was important. But, I knew that I had to remake myself, put my body back together. It did not feel like it belonged to me. It belonged to some other plan for who and what a young woman should be. The project to repatriate my body through my art found a starting point in the nineteenth century Grimm Brothers\u2019 fairy tale, The Handless Maiden. I saw the dismemberment of the heroin\u2019s hands as a metaphor for women\u2019s loss of power, usurped by patriarchy and technology, creating trauma that limits women\u2019s sense of agency. If I were to be an artist, the project had to begin with finding my hands. My first works in printmaking and in sculpture were filled with representations of my own hands, folded like those of the Mona Lisa and the image of a figurine of a girl with her head bowed and her hands held behind her back. I discovered women represented in centuries of art history in similar passive positions. Inhabiting these gestures personally through casting my own hands in plaster and paper was a way for me to nourish a different kind of power, to find understanding and strength in where and who I was. I made casts of my torso and feet, representations of tongues, as well as an armless figure inspired by the performance work of Ana Mendieta. The feet are grounded and active. In the artist book Continuum\/Unfolding the hands begin to unfold, and connect to a community of women writers. Another artist book, INTERSECTIONS conjunctions\u00a0is a pivotal, in-depth exploration of women and space through writing. In the series Neige noir, I worked with a representation of my full body, just standing in the world, being connected and permeable to whatever is out there. These works are transformed, many years later, in the Words Fell, Finally series. Here the figure is torn but reassembled. There are often two bodies in these works, one present, the other absent. In two recent video works, I am fully present. In Crawl, I emerge from a rocky crevasse and walk away from the camera. In Closer, my body is situated in the expanse of the landscape, filmed by a descending drone camera. As it approaches, I pluck it out of the air – a gesture that denies its gaze and asserts my personal agency over my body and my voice. Karen Trask in collaboration with Don Goodes, 2025 === \u00c0 qui ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix? propose une s\u00e9rie d\u2019\u0153uvres t\u00e9moignant de mon processus de r\u00e9appropriation de mon pouvoir personnel \u00e0 travers diverses repr\u00e9sentations de moi-m\u00eame. Lorsque j\u2019ai d\u00e9cid\u00e9 de devenir artiste, il n\u2019\u00e9tait pas \u00e9vident de savoir par o\u00f9 commencer. Il a fallu du temps pour savoir ce qu\u2019il fallait faire, pour savoir ce qui \u00e9tait important. Mais je savais que je devais me reconstruire, remettre mon corps en \u00e9tat. Il ne me semblait pas m\u2019appartenir. Il appartenait \u00e0 une autre vision de ce que devait \u00eatre une jeune femme. Le projet de rapatrier mon corps \u00e0 travers mon art a trouv\u00e9 son point de d\u00e9part dans le conte de f\u00e9es des fr\u00e8res Grimm, La jeune fille sans mains, datant du 19e\u00a0si\u00e8cle. J\u2019ai vu le d\u00e9membrement des mains de l\u2019h\u00e9ro\u00efne comme une m\u00e9taphore de la perte de pouvoir des femmes, usurp\u00e9 par le patriarcat et la technologie, cr\u00e9ant un traumatisme qui limite le sentiment de pouvoir personnel des femmes. Si je voulais \u00eatre artiste, le projet devait commencer par retrouver mes mains. Mes premi\u00e8res \u0153uvres en gravure et en sculpture \u00e9taient remplies de repr\u00e9sentations de mes propres mains, repli\u00e9es comme celles de la Joconde et d\u2019une figurine de jeune fille avec la t\u00eate baiss\u00e9e et les mains jointes derri\u00e8re son dos. J\u2019ai d\u00e9couvert que les femmes repr\u00e9sent\u00e9es dans des si\u00e8cles d\u2019histoire de l\u2019art adoptaient souvent des positions similaires, passives. Habiter personnellement ces gestes en moulant mes propres mains dans le pl\u00e2tre et le papier \u00e9tait une fa\u00e7on de nourrir un autre type de pouvoir, de trouver de la force et de la compr\u00e9hension dans ce que j\u2019\u00e9tais et l\u00e0 o\u00f9 j\u2019\u00e9tais. J\u2019ai r\u00e9alis\u00e9 des moulages de mon torse et de mes pieds, des repr\u00e9sentations de langues, ainsi qu\u2019une figure sans bras inspir\u00e9e du travail de performance d\u2019Ana Mendieta. Les pieds sont ancr\u00e9s et actifs. Dans le livre d\u2019artiste Continuum\/Unfolding, les mains commencent \u00e0 se d\u00e9plier et \u00e0 se connecter \u00e0 une communaut\u00e9 d\u2019\u00e9crivaines. Autre livre d\u2019artiste, INTERSECTIONS conjunctions est une exploration en profondeur des femmes et de l\u2019espace par le biais de l\u2019\u00e9criture. Dans la s\u00e9rie Neige noire, j\u2019ai travaill\u00e9 avec une repr\u00e9sentation de mon corps entier, simplement debout dans le monde, connect\u00e9 et perm\u00e9able \u00e0 tout ce qui existe. Ces \u0153uvres sont transform\u00e9es plusieurs ann\u00e9es plus tard dans la s\u00e9rie Words Fell, Finally. Ici, la figure est d\u00e9chir\u00e9e mais r\u00e9assembl\u00e9e. Il y a souvent deux corps dans ces \u0153uvres\u00a0: l\u2019un pr\u00e9sent, l\u2019autre absent. Dans deux \u0153uvres vid\u00e9o r\u00e9centes, je suis pleinement pr\u00e9sente. Dans Crawl, j\u2019\u00e9merge d\u2019une crevasse rocheuse et m\u2019\u00e9loigne de l\u2019appareil photo. Dans Closer, mon corps se situe dans l\u2019immensit\u00e9 du paysage, film\u00e9 par une cam\u00e9ra drone en descente. Alors qu\u2019elle s\u2019approche, je la saisis en plein vol \u2013 un geste qui refuse son regard et affirme mon pouvoir personnel sur mon corps et ma voix. Traduction: M\u00e9lissa Guay\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/awtheme\/whose-body-whose-voice\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Karen Trask\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\\\/\\\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"CollectionPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/guz.ca\\\/aopa-karentrask\\\/awtheme\\\/whose-body-whose-voice\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/guz.ca\\\/aopa-karentrask\\\/awtheme\\\/whose-body-whose-voice\\\/\",\"name\":\"Whose body, Whose Voice \u2013 \u00c0\u00a0qui\u00a0ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix Archives - Karen Trask\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/guz.ca\\\/aopa-karentrask\\\/#website\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/guz.ca\\\/aopa-karentrask\\\/awtheme\\\/whose-body-whose-voice\\\/#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/guz.ca\\\/aopa-karentrask\\\/awtheme\\\/whose-body-whose-voice\\\/#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\\\/\\\/guz.ca\\\/aopa-karentrask\\\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"Whose body, Whose Voice \u2013 \u00c0\u00a0qui\u00a0ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/guz.ca\\\/aopa-karentrask\\\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/guz.ca\\\/aopa-karentrask\\\/\",\"name\":\"Karen Trask\",\"description\":\"Official Artist Site\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\\\/\\\/guz.ca\\\/aopa-karentrask\\\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"Whose body, Whose Voice \u2013 \u00c0\u00a0qui\u00a0ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix Archives - Karen Trask","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/awtheme\/whose-body-whose-voice\/","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"Whose body, Whose Voice \u2013 \u00c0\u00a0qui\u00a0ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix Archives - Karen Trask","og_description":"Whose Body, Whose Voice proposes a series of works witnessing my process of reclaiming personal agency through various representations of myself. In my decision to become an artist, knowing where to begin wasn\u2019t obvious. It took time to know what to make, to know what was important. But, I knew that I had to remake myself, put my body back together. It did not feel like it belonged to me. It belonged to some other plan for who and what a young woman should be. The project to repatriate my body through my art found a starting point in the nineteenth century Grimm Brothers\u2019 fairy tale, The Handless Maiden. I saw the dismemberment of the heroin\u2019s hands as a metaphor for women\u2019s loss of power, usurped by patriarchy and technology, creating trauma that limits women\u2019s sense of agency. If I were to be an artist, the project had to begin with finding my hands. My first works in printmaking and in sculpture were filled with representations of my own hands, folded like those of the Mona Lisa and the image of a figurine of a girl with her head bowed and her hands held behind her back. I discovered women represented in centuries of art history in similar passive positions. Inhabiting these gestures personally through casting my own hands in plaster and paper was a way for me to nourish a different kind of power, to find understanding and strength in where and who I was. I made casts of my torso and feet, representations of tongues, as well as an armless figure inspired by the performance work of Ana Mendieta. The feet are grounded and active. In the artist book Continuum\/Unfolding the hands begin to unfold, and connect to a community of women writers. Another artist book, INTERSECTIONS conjunctions\u00a0is a pivotal, in-depth exploration of women and space through writing. In the series Neige noir, I worked with a representation of my full body, just standing in the world, being connected and permeable to whatever is out there. These works are transformed, many years later, in the Words Fell, Finally series. Here the figure is torn but reassembled. There are often two bodies in these works, one present, the other absent. In two recent video works, I am fully present. In Crawl, I emerge from a rocky crevasse and walk away from the camera. In Closer, my body is situated in the expanse of the landscape, filmed by a descending drone camera. As it approaches, I pluck it out of the air – a gesture that denies its gaze and asserts my personal agency over my body and my voice. Karen Trask in collaboration with Don Goodes, 2025 === \u00c0 qui ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix? propose une s\u00e9rie d\u2019\u0153uvres t\u00e9moignant de mon processus de r\u00e9appropriation de mon pouvoir personnel \u00e0 travers diverses repr\u00e9sentations de moi-m\u00eame. Lorsque j\u2019ai d\u00e9cid\u00e9 de devenir artiste, il n\u2019\u00e9tait pas \u00e9vident de savoir par o\u00f9 commencer. Il a fallu du temps pour savoir ce qu\u2019il fallait faire, pour savoir ce qui \u00e9tait important. Mais je savais que je devais me reconstruire, remettre mon corps en \u00e9tat. Il ne me semblait pas m\u2019appartenir. Il appartenait \u00e0 une autre vision de ce que devait \u00eatre une jeune femme. Le projet de rapatrier mon corps \u00e0 travers mon art a trouv\u00e9 son point de d\u00e9part dans le conte de f\u00e9es des fr\u00e8res Grimm, La jeune fille sans mains, datant du 19e\u00a0si\u00e8cle. J\u2019ai vu le d\u00e9membrement des mains de l\u2019h\u00e9ro\u00efne comme une m\u00e9taphore de la perte de pouvoir des femmes, usurp\u00e9 par le patriarcat et la technologie, cr\u00e9ant un traumatisme qui limite le sentiment de pouvoir personnel des femmes. Si je voulais \u00eatre artiste, le projet devait commencer par retrouver mes mains. Mes premi\u00e8res \u0153uvres en gravure et en sculpture \u00e9taient remplies de repr\u00e9sentations de mes propres mains, repli\u00e9es comme celles de la Joconde et d\u2019une figurine de jeune fille avec la t\u00eate baiss\u00e9e et les mains jointes derri\u00e8re son dos. J\u2019ai d\u00e9couvert que les femmes repr\u00e9sent\u00e9es dans des si\u00e8cles d\u2019histoire de l\u2019art adoptaient souvent des positions similaires, passives. Habiter personnellement ces gestes en moulant mes propres mains dans le pl\u00e2tre et le papier \u00e9tait une fa\u00e7on de nourrir un autre type de pouvoir, de trouver de la force et de la compr\u00e9hension dans ce que j\u2019\u00e9tais et l\u00e0 o\u00f9 j\u2019\u00e9tais. J\u2019ai r\u00e9alis\u00e9 des moulages de mon torse et de mes pieds, des repr\u00e9sentations de langues, ainsi qu\u2019une figure sans bras inspir\u00e9e du travail de performance d\u2019Ana Mendieta. Les pieds sont ancr\u00e9s et actifs. Dans le livre d\u2019artiste Continuum\/Unfolding, les mains commencent \u00e0 se d\u00e9plier et \u00e0 se connecter \u00e0 une communaut\u00e9 d\u2019\u00e9crivaines. Autre livre d\u2019artiste, INTERSECTIONS conjunctions est une exploration en profondeur des femmes et de l\u2019espace par le biais de l\u2019\u00e9criture. Dans la s\u00e9rie Neige noire, j\u2019ai travaill\u00e9 avec une repr\u00e9sentation de mon corps entier, simplement debout dans le monde, connect\u00e9 et perm\u00e9able \u00e0 tout ce qui existe. Ces \u0153uvres sont transform\u00e9es plusieurs ann\u00e9es plus tard dans la s\u00e9rie Words Fell, Finally. Ici, la figure est d\u00e9chir\u00e9e mais r\u00e9assembl\u00e9e. Il y a souvent deux corps dans ces \u0153uvres\u00a0: l\u2019un pr\u00e9sent, l\u2019autre absent. Dans deux \u0153uvres vid\u00e9o r\u00e9centes, je suis pleinement pr\u00e9sente. Dans Crawl, j\u2019\u00e9merge d\u2019une crevasse rocheuse et m\u2019\u00e9loigne de l\u2019appareil photo. Dans Closer, mon corps se situe dans l\u2019immensit\u00e9 du paysage, film\u00e9 par une cam\u00e9ra drone en descente. Alors qu\u2019elle s\u2019approche, je la saisis en plein vol \u2013 un geste qui refuse son regard et affirme mon pouvoir personnel sur mon corps et ma voix. Traduction: M\u00e9lissa Guay","og_url":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/awtheme\/whose-body-whose-voice\/","og_site_name":"Karen Trask","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"CollectionPage","@id":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/awtheme\/whose-body-whose-voice\/","url":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/awtheme\/whose-body-whose-voice\/","name":"Whose body, Whose Voice \u2013 \u00c0\u00a0qui\u00a0ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix Archives - Karen Trask","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/#website"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/awtheme\/whose-body-whose-voice\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/awtheme\/whose-body-whose-voice\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"Whose body, Whose Voice \u2013 \u00c0\u00a0qui\u00a0ce corps, \u00e0 qui cette voix"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/#website","url":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/","name":"Karen Trask","description":"Official Artist Site","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/awtheme\/92","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/awtheme"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/taxonomies\/awtheme"}],"wp:post_type":[{"href":"https:\/\/guz.ca\/aopa-karentrask\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/series?awtheme=92"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}