Weekend Two

Just got home from ETI's "All's Well That Ends Well," at 12th Ave Arts.  They did a good job; I had trouble reading through that one.  I thought Janet Hietter as Clown/Widow and Linda Cleckler as Lafeu/Duke were particularly outstanding; they made watching it fun.  They have a free show tomorrow night at Luther Burbank Park on Mercer Island, and are then taking it to Echo Glenn, after which the program is done and it's out into the world for them.  Congratulations to all of the ETI students.

Saw all eight performances of NWNW week two yesterday.  Impressions: OCD; Ritual; Timidity; Identity; Validation; Race; Authenticity; Reasons to Live; Dark.

My favorite was the last piece on the mainstage, PE/Mo's "Anatomy of an Accident."  I think there were eleven performers on stage.  My impression was that it had to do with racial profiling, not just by police, but by witnesses as well.  Assuming guilt.  Building up the story because you can.  Wondering what the "truth" of the moment was.  The movement was contained chaos, a contained violence, and at times I was concerned for the well-being of the performers as they smacked down to the ground, though my second thought was that they had really good fight choreography.  I was mostly engaged, and it was a potent piece of "theatre," save one bit with the "police woman" which came across as superficial, it was 30 seconds to a minute, and I couldn't tell you where it was (I'd have to see it again), but there seemed to be a lot of consideration in the rest of the piece, and this moment lacked that, it went for the general, and in that felt momentarily lazy, and as an audience member, you lost me, which is a shame.  Became a distraction to an otherwise powerful performance, which again I loved.  (I mention it because I've been reading Peter Brook's "The Empty Space.")  The choreography was fabulous.

My other two favorites were the theatre piece "Awaiting Oblivion or" by Tim Smith-Stewart, and "The Beautiful" by Dani Tirrell.  The latter dealing with how to find one's identity, how to be the "real" you as a gay, black man in America.  There was a bit about violence against transgender people as well.  (Which begs the question, "How is gay marriage or a transgender individual a threat to you?"  It has nothing to do with you.  It takes nothing away from your rights to marriage-and the legal privilege that distinction affords you, nor does it affect your own masculinity (or femininity, though most perpetrators of violence toward gays and transgenders tend to be male.)  It's a sad state of affairs that the violence has seen an uptick recently.  It was high when I first moved to Seattle back in the late 80's, as well, but it had seemed that as a society we had evolved beyond that in the intervening years.  So the recurrence makes me somewhat disappointed with humanity, here.)

"Awaiting Oblivion or" had to do with "How to be ok when everything is not ok-Temporary Solutions for surviving the dystopian future we find ourselves in at the present."  At one point there was a debate between Hedda (Hedda Gabler) and Nora (A Doll's House) with Hedda giving reasons to die, and Nora giving reasons to live.  I enjoyed the discussion.  They brought up "Thelma and Louise," that car plunging off into the Grand Canyon at the end.  And as a side note, I never really bought into that as a feminist statement (even though the screenwriter is considered a feminist.)  It always felt cheap to me, like the raw end of the stick.  Why is the only available way out for the women to die...how is that "winning" anything?  Is that the only option available to me as a woman?  Thelma made a series of bad choices and then Louise drowned with her in her vortex.  Louise had a decent life, a supportive partner, who even sent them money (which, through another one of Thelma's bad decisions, was lost.)  And the police investigator was on their side in the end, but both he and Louise's partner were ineffectual as heroes.  Enough digression, at the end of this performance there was an alternative ending to "Thelma and Louise," wherein they become praying mantises and escape to Mexico.  (Even becoming zombies and devouring the men would have been a preferable ending (for me), though admittedly, an entirely different genre of movie.)  When we did movie nights on campus in college, that was often the choice.  (And yes, it's just a movie, my problem isn't the movie itself, but that it became some feminist rallying cry.)

Kudos to all the performers and writers over the two weekends.  Thanks for putting yourself out there.

And all this inspired me to actually sit down and write two pages of a performance piece I've been thinking about.  I probably won't use these particular pages of writing, but I cracked open the mystery.

NWNW One

I can hear the (happy?) screams of little kids through my window...it's after 11:30, think there was a "princess" party up the street earlier, maybe it's still going on.  It's a nice night out, too warm to be inside, really.  (Seriously, there's a pub across the street and I can't hear them at all.)

So, went to the other half of NWNW Festival, weekend one, tonight.  LED, Travis Clark & Benjamin Kamino, Members of the Seattle Irish Dance Company, and Jessica Jobaris & General Magic.  Impressions: my favorite was LED's Barbarian Princess, based on the life and art of Zelda Fitzgerald.  There were six dancers, and one (multi-instrument-and-singing musican), plus writing and pictures projected on a screen in the back.  While I didn't necessarily follow the story (if there was on), and so also didn't get the wardrobe change, I loved the choreography, the way the bodies moved, the way they occupied the space, how they transported themselves and each other through it.  At one point, I was watching only the musician (Andrew Stensaas), because I realized he was the one singing, that it wasn't a recording.  The whole thing made me think that maybe actors sometimes get lost in the words, there are too many words, the words become too important, and the message gets lost.  I don't know what the remedy is, or if one is even needed...this from an actor/writer who is using a lot of words.

How does one choose to occupy space?

Travis Clarke & Benjamin Kamino The Journey It Takes.  (More words.)  Morse code.  Emily Dickinson.  Isolation.  Separation.  Wanting to connect.  Not knowing how.  Nothing works.  Nothing gets through.  One-sided.  Oblivious.  So what I saw was one person staying on course and oblivious to the other person who wants to connect and keeps reaching out in various attempts but getting no response.  And finally (rather than giving up, so good for him) he physically throws himself in the path of the other to get his attention, there was some connection, meeting at that point, and it ended shortly after.  I kinda' wanted it to go a bit longer in order to see if the first one would just crawl over and continue on his way or if the second one succeeded in capturing his attention for real, not just becoming a nuisance or an obstacle that one has to overcome.  I hope so (but we don't always.)  That said, probably not about that at all.  (And this was the one coming into it that I was most interested in seeing, there's nothing in the program though, to explain anything.  I'd seen a write-up of a previous performance art piece by Travis Clarke, and I like his work.)

Seattle Irish Dance Company.  Two talented dancers and a fiddle player.  They were good, don't think there was a story in there.

Jessica Jobaris & General Magic A Great Hunger.  From the description in the program, it had to do with a friend's suicide fifteen years ago.  Maybe it was stages of processing that.  Or perhaps elements of that relationship.  Not sure what the nudity or simulated sex acts had to do with that, though some of the other visual elements (especially the opening sequences) might have.  That was the crowd favorite of the night.  It was interesting to watch, and I enjoyed the dancing, I just couldn't follow it.

So last night.  Faith Helma I HATE POSTIVE THINKING.  I guess I'd categorize it as a solo performance.  She was talking about the difference between manifesting something due to positive thinking vs. putting an idea in your head and then being more attuned to opportunity around you and so spotting it and acting on it when you notice it.  What struck me most of her performance was her discussion of how when we are learning things as a baby or a little kid, our failures are something to be celebrated because we are trying and we will get there, but then somehow when we get older failure becomes something to be ashamed about...why is that?  When does this happen?  (I was reading something about that earlier in the day.)  I think she told us to go out and fail at something tomorrow.  (Don't know if I did.)  And then she danced like a fool for 30 seconds to fail at something for us.

Markeith Wiley 31 and Counting.  I think it was supposed to be a conversation about race (he's black.)  He had a shadow follow him and copy his movements (and who could dance really well.  The shadow was a white woman, dressed in black, her head and face covered in black.)  He puts on "approachable" clothing and starts talking about being the exception (my words), but his words are drowned out by the music the DJ is playing.  Part of me wanted to be in front of him to hear what he was saying (I was on the opposite side of the theatre), but part of me believed that the point was that his words are getting drowned out in the conversation.  I was getting that the point was that he wasn't being heard, and yet I actually wanted to hear what he had to say.

The other two, Violets on Smoke and Nancy Ellis...I don't know how to talk about either one.  I liked them, but yeah, I don't know how to talk about them.  Maybe it will come to me later.  I have used many words, so I will stop.

Friday

This year's NWNW Festival at On the Boards is heavy on the dance (weekend two is mostly dance.)  Attended the first night of the Studio Showcase earlier tonight: Violets on Smoke Rooms, Faith Helma I HATE POSITIVE THINKING, Makeith Wyeth 31 and Counting, and Nancy Ellis Nancy's NANCY.  (I'll write more on this, working one more film festival shift, shortly.)

Earlier I'd gone to a screening of The Glamour and the Squalor at the Harvard Exit.  A documentary on the radio DJ, Marco Collins, who pretty much changed the music landscape of the early nineties by breaking bands on KNDD in Seattle.  I remember my friends and I feeling hopeful and excited when we started seeing signs around that there was gonna be a new radio station...it was such a dismal radio market if you weren't into testosterone-fueled rock or oldies.  (There were the college radio stations, but there was some weird programming thing going on at KCMU (now KEXP) and people were boycotting it.)  I was going to a lot of shows, finding out about bands through record stores and friends, but there wasn't much airplay of stuff I liked.  When it came on the air it was such a breath of fresh air, like "someone gets me."  (Me and thousands of others.)  Music has always been to me, not just something in the background, but as necessary as breathing.  If I listen to it (and even more so when I was younger) I really listen to it, I pretty much stop doing anything else.  So if I hate the music, it's incredibly grating, and they were playing things I loved.  I just remember that first night it went on the air and being so happy.  (And hearing veteran DJ's Pat O'Day and Marty Reimer basically speak their minds about radio in the film, how calculated and controlling the format is, was incredibly refreshing.)

It was such a perfect moment.  (And I hadn't realized how many risks he was taking to get the music on the air, i.e., the time he locked the station, turned out the lights, unplugged the phones and fax machine and played the entire "Vitalogy" album before it was released.  Nor how many musicians can thank him for having a career, because if he liked it and played it, other venues picked it up.)  Marco is not on the radio now, except as a guest DJ sometimes on KEXP (which is the only radio station in this market regularly playing new music.)  I think there may come a time again where people want that gatekeeper again, there is so much out there with the internet, how do you find the gem amidst it all?

And while it wasn't quite as deep (it's close) as the Cobain documentary (which he was involved with as well), it was pretty honest about who he is, what he's been through (the bullying, the addictions, his sexuality.)  Pretty vulnerable to put that out there.  Just makes me like him more, and appreciate everything he's done more.

Last showcase

Walking out of the theatre tonight, someone behind me said they felt traumatized. Someone else answered, "I can't figure out if it was too much or just enough." Tonight's mainstage performances all dealt with death.
1) Paul Budraitis. I liked it, he's definitely a great performer, but while the beginning "speech" made sense on it's own, it didn't connect with the rest of the work for me, which is a shame. It was a solo piece, great staging for it - performer in a large, particle-board box on stage, speaking into a camera, visually projected onto outside of box, other visuals projected both onto box and to back stage wall. Began and ended with him sitting on top of the box, watching the projections on the back wall. Interesting vulnerability in that, almost child-like. (Also, I know someone that the beginning of his second story happened to, turned out differently.)  First of stories, plane crash, human error. Second story, finding out your child died. I wanted to understand how it all fit together, (and I'm not dumb or superficial if I can't see inside someone else's thought processes) I asked the people sitting next to me during intermission. Maybe it represented universal suffering, somebody feeling that, but why suicide? Or is the narrator already dead? But then again, why? And how does that relate to the two middle stories?  Incidently, he taught a class I took this past winter and I wanted to see his performance work, so, basically, he's why I went to all the performances.  (I suppose I could ask him, but I don't think he'll tell me.) 
2) New Animals. Wanted to connect with it, did off and on. Liked the choreography and there were parts of it that were incredibly moving, but enough parts that didn't connect -why the lining up of the solo cups? Interesting visually, but was there more than that?-(blurb, blurb, a little more context, please-for both pieces) that it lost me.
3) bobbevy. Interesting concept, beginning section went on too long before dancers connected, something about the visuals, or the sound tones that went with it kept causing me to black out so I missed a lot of it.  Someone seated near me said they they liked the concept but it could use editing. Also mentioned they would like something to draw audience into the performance put in the program.
4) Satori Group-Ghosts. Says it's a work in progress. Narrator sees ghosts, is called into the land of the ghosts, attempts to save one.  My favorite of the night (yes, that's ironic: there's an affiliation between this group and the one I wrote so much about about a month ago), conceptually well thought out, beautifully performed by ensemble. Definitely want to see more of it. Most redemptive of the four pieces tonight. Along with Josh Martin's piece from last weekend (and Pony World), my favorite from the festival. But impressive work across the board for all the sixteen performances I saw (I missed the installation piece last weekend, and I won't go back tomorrow.) Conceptually interesting (because I can't think of words right now) work, great performances, and kudos for creating new work and putting it out there, for the ideas, for the process, for the work. (I'm banning myself from using the word "conceptual" for at least a week. Get thee here o dictionary or thesaurus.) I think this was the strongest grouping overall and I "enjoyed" the performances, as much as you can say that for performances about death and loss.

Speaking of redemption, I hope I can resurrect my cast-iron frying pan. Housemate pretty much destroyed it this morning (by turning the burner on high and forgetting about it.) I've scrubbed out the ash and covered it in oil, in hopes it won't be all rusted in the morning. Not gonna re-cure it tonight. It's late, bus trip was almost 2 hours coming home, door to door. (I've gotten in the bad habit of not using articles in my sentence structure much anymore. They don't use them in finnish, but we do in english. Are those supposed to be capitalized?)