Often the works are trivial or silly but they reflect Staton's disdain for selling

Often, the works are trivial or silly, but they reflect Staton's disdain for "selling unique, crafted objects to men in suits". She has since set up stall in the ICA, at the San Francisco Art Fair and in Middlesbrough Art Gallery. Like an Avon Lady, the artist Sarah Staton once put her work in a case and touted it round the smaller galleries: Bing bong - Staton calling. Opening the case, she'd display her Bum Life Collection, a squalid multiple that reflected the most impoverished of lifestyles. Her abject folio consisted of nothing more than a collection of papier mache cigarette butts and home-made coins - objects that had cost her nothing and which, apparently, weren't worth anything either They were a hit. Sarah Staton has re-written the rule book on how to survive. Leaving St Martin's in the late 1980s with nowhere to show, she opened up her Bloomsbury squat as a gallery, and named it Milch.

It became the best alternative space of the early 1990s, but Staton moved on, to decorate the lawn of the Serpentine Gallery with a Union flag of smashed bottles, and to plant a group of resin plants, the Viral Buds, in a Devon country park, for a show called Ha-Ha. Her most successful project to date has been the Sarah Staton Supastore, a peripatetic shop selling works by up-and-coming contemporaries, unknowns and established artists such as Sol LeWitt, Mile Kelley and Steve Willats. When the Supastore took over the Laure Genillard Gallery last year, Staton filled the space with unwearable clothes, funky multiples and one-off object-poems. There are also discounted tickets (pounds 6.00 for pounds 4.50) for those calling the box-office mentioning the Independent.. On offer are five pairs of full-price tickets for the price of one to the first to call the box-office on: 0171-713 6000.

On Wednesday 9 August Jumpstart presents Ceci n'est pas une Danse, a dance theatre piece inspired by the work of the surrealist painter Rene Magritte (above). "Oh less, less, less, less about you," he intones, "and more, more, more, more about me." Just as the Waikiki Lounge starts to wind down for the night you are surprised to catch yourself aching for more.10pm to 3am, this Wed (fortnightly) at Venom, 13-17 Bear Street, London W1, pounds 7. Up until the 9 September a fascinating season of new work is on show at the Lilian Baylis Theatre, Sadler's Wells, London EC1. With more than 50 companies taking part, Mosaics 95 presents a different programme every night, providing a showcase for the country's up-and-coming talent. Murray, a bedraggled performance poet, drawls through a Soho satire in which a gay man turns heterosexual before launching into "Everybody's Taking Cocaine".

A young chanteuse appears and, against a low synth growl, sings a couple of Marilyn numbers, lending "She Acts Like a Woman" a menace worthy of The Crying Game. "We want to see the films that don't get shown, hear the music that doesn't get played and dress up," says Waikiki stylist Rachel Van Asch. "We're not interested in parody like other alternative clubs. We're paying a tribute to a golden age."And suddenly, it stops sounding like swagger. They boogie to the theme tune from Planet of the Apes and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang against a projected backdrop of black-and-white movie clips. The onlookers look on in a B-movie trance.The theremin seems to have an invisible effect on the nerve clusters that control sociability for, from hereon, the mood changes. A trio in sequinned minis dances on mushroom-shaped podiums and the dance floor fills with men in tuxedos and women in ballgowns.

It is, in fact, the world's first electronic instrument, the theremin. He teases the aerial with slight hand gestures, coaxing out "Amazing Grace", and the theme from Star Trek. I make my excuses and return via the fluorescent canvas-and-foil Hawaiian beach, to where a man in a dinner jacket is standing motionless in front of what looks like a primitive radio. Ali, a friendly transvestite, says that the VIP lounge is a "way of re-establishing a bit of elitism, a sort of return to the spirit of the Eighties". "I'm afraid that if you don't have a VIP ticket, you'll have to perform vile and unnatural acts."A short while later, I am in a room lined with cushioned recesses, canopied by what look like Bedouin tents Techno throbs in the background. "I've just got back from Hollywood, where I spent three months shopping," Kick-Box says silkily.