All manner of performance art could be said to exist “between the live body, the still image, and the sculptural object,” as Maria Hassabi’s Web site describes her own work. But the Cyprus-born, U.S.-trained dancer, choreographer, and visual artist is nearly alone in penetrating that “between.” Cultivated with great patience and perseverance over the last two decades, Hassabi’s most pressing medium is time. It ticks achingly slowly for her, when it doesn’t stop altogether. Differing from butoh, however, the issue is not so much the body’s organic disintegration as something more sinister: how what we might assume is our most authentic self—our unwitting body—turns out to be mainly a mashup of found objects and images. The self makes do. The work is not didactic, though, but delicately, surreptitiously moving. For the Festival d’automne, Hassabi presents the hourlong solo On Stage, which asks “what it means to sustain a place, a pose, a representation … What happens when the process of an image is revealed.” She moves, and doesn’t move, at the very lip of the proscenium stage, before it drops off into the dark. —Apollinaire Scherr