8 posts tagged “performance”
I fell off the 8 Days of Happiness wagon, and I'm three shows behind. Quickly, then! To the reviews!
Show #11: The Success of Failure (or, The Failure of Success), Cynthia Hopkins, Walker Art Center.
I left the theater in a pretty weird mood and then wrote some trippy space-time, life-death, faith-knowledge stuff that I am too shy to post (plus, I don't have to! This isn't some kind of writing workshop! Ha!) The second half of the show is raw. She is honest and there's rebellion in her. Watching someone enumerate their failings for you in clear, judgmental, but accepting tones is going to make you feel a little crazy and dangerous afterward. I'm not sure I liked it. I'm not sure I didn't.
Show #12: My Never Being Loneliness. Two works by Melissa Birch & Molly Van Avery, Open Eye Figure Theater
I hate to compare shows to one another, but these three all bear the comparison, since they are meta-autobiography-fiction (you know it when you see it?). It was great to see that genre done in three different ways--the extreme fiction/truth spectrum of Cynthia Hopkins, the poetic work of Melissa Birch, and the funny, surreal writing of Molly Van Avery. I am proud to live in a community that supports these two (and their collaborators, Maren Ward and Arwen Wilder).
Show #13: The Infinite Multiverse, by Chris Yon, Bryant Lake Bowl
Man, Chris does not shy away from precision. Daring to hit sound cues so perfectly. It sounds ridiculous but it's true--there didn't seem to be room for error, but it didn't matter because everything in the Ballad of Angry Dad seemed to click together perfectly. In I've Got the Heebie Jeebies, there was a long sequence of unison movement and I couldn't figure out if I was more astounded by the perfect unison of the performers or the shadings of difference that flared up because they were all doing the same thing. It was a trip, and uh, need I mention that his dancers (Justin Jones, Kristin Van Loon, Taryn Griggs) are crazy good at what they do?
Here is a promo shot for the upcoming Mad King Thomas show at the Bryant Lake Bowl, called Love Me, Love My Questionable Art.
January 7, 11, 14, 2009
7 p.m.
$8-12
I will write more on the show later, but you should click through to Megan Mayer's flickr page because there are scads of pictures of us being ridiculous in our heart costumes!
I leave on Saturday morning. I know that on a Wednesday morning,
slouched over a keyboard, Saturday seems as far as death, but today,
for me, Saturday is terrifyingly close.
I'm in just a little tiny panic. Just a little one about what to pack, how to carry it, why the eff do I not own the perfect, respectable, roomy backpack? Is this the craziest idea I've ever had? Do I really have to go back to REI? Is my performance in Melbourne really going to happen? Etc. You know. It's hard to pack up life for a month and not worry. There is a lot to wrap up...at work, at home, in Mad King Thomas land. Consequently I've been a bit of a wreck lately, in that annoying way where you don't realize how grouchy you are until you yell at Paul when he offers to bake your favorite cake in a (clearly futile) attempt to cheer you up.
I underestimated this trip just a touch. My last (and so far, only) long sojourn, when I studied in Mongolia, was significantly different. You have to panic about things like bringing enough Immodium AD. I had to have my gallbladder removed before I went (no joke). I had to get an AIDS test that no one ever asked to see, about six different immunizations, a visa, traveler's checks. I had to pick out the ten CDs that I was interested in listening to for the next five months. A phrasebook. I had to learn Cyrillic. I was in school.
This time...my visa took about five minutes and is entirely
digital. Uh...they have pharmacies. I have no currently malfunctioning
organs (at least as far as I know). They speak English. But even in
the five years since I went to Mongolia, things have changed. I've got
an iPod. Traveler's checks are a non-entity. I have to pay to check
my luggage. I have a job that I have to come back to, so I have to get
sleeping pills to force my body into nocturnal obedience. Oh, the
American economy is crashing. You know. Stuff like that.
I'm trying to organize MKT performances through sheer force of will
(maybe when it's all over, I'll detail for you exactly what happened
and what I had to do to get it to happen--assuming it DOES happen).
And I have to figure out how to make a dance film.
But I have a blog now, so I won't have to send
out brutally long emails to everyone I know. And I'll be able to share
pictures way way faster.
The second part of the good news is that I get to say: It doesn't matter if my tires are a little flat, it doesn't matter if I need a new belt, etc. None of these things matter until July! Utter respite from stupid daily concerns!
Plus I will have a great excuse to wear dramatic sun hats for an
entire month. And I get to have a balmy winter solstice. And see
little penguins. And other great stuff. We're going to see Australian
Rules Football and rugby, and we're riding roller coasters, and living
on a boat, and couch surfing, and ... It's going to rule.
Ultimately it's going to be a Truly Excellent Adventure.
See Marc Bamuthi Joseph's the break(s).
Tonight, April 11 at 8 pm
Tomorrow, April 12 at 8 pm
Walker Art Center, McGuire Theatre
I saw it last night and this show:
- Cracked me up
- Made me think (still making me think today) about personal identity, race, music, culture, globalization, dance, politics, art, generational differences, hope, the future, relationships, demographics, how much I still have to learn...
- Made me uncomfortable
- Made me happy and relaxed
- Reminded me that there are bigger questions than the petty day-to-day bullshit that eats up my mind
- Gave me hope
- Impressed the hell out of me on an artistic/structural level
- Impressed the hell out of me on a performative level (Bamuthi shifts in a heartbeat between poetry and casually shooting the shit, hip-hop and contemporary dancing...you don't even notice the transitions..and also the MC and the DJ were amazing.)
- Offered up some new reading material (Can't Stop Won't Stop by Jeff Chang is first on the list)
- Reminded me that seeing art and having fun and listening to music are important things to do
- And, last but not least, changed the way I relate to hip-hop.
This picture makes the show look way more boring than it is:
I want to go to Australia (Brisbane) to visit my sister.
That's all well and good, and was quite simple, until I realized that it would be great to perform there.
This is the stupidest idea I've ever had.
Lone Twin did it, in a spectacular way. I just want to know how to be Lone Twin.
What I'm looking for is either mired in government bureaucracy (how to get a working visa, how to get a grant, how to fund it) OR it's some underground arts organization that is impossible to find (just like MKT is impossible to find). It ain't easy to be making contemporary live art in this work-a-day world.
It's over?!
Yes, it's over.
I can't possibly summarize the weekend in anything other than bullet points (I'm not sure I can summarize anything in any form other than bullet points anymore).
- We had an unprecedently positive and communicative audience. The number of post-show remarks, hugs, comments, and emails have buoyed me through an exhausting and exhilarating and emotional weekend. I wish I could remember all the kind words but many of them are lost to the excitement of the moment.
- The first night had a respectable audience, the second night very nearly sold out (only maybe...2 seats unclaimed) and the last night had only 10 or 12 empty seats. This is a sight better than our first performance at that theater, over a year ago, when we went out to a house of ... 12 people. The total number of people at that show went up to 20 but dang. In a theater that holds 100+ people, I think we did ourselves proud this time.
- We got our first standing ovation EVER on Friday night. I cried like a big baby in front of 100 people as they all cheered and clapped and stood up and loved us. And then we got our second standing ovation on Saturday.
- I cried during the show, on Friday and Saturday night. It is a rare occasion for me to cry at all, much less in front of a bunch of people when I'm supposed to have my game face on. Maybe there are pictures of me with my big racoon eyes. I guess I need waterproof mascara. Dang.
- It is a special thing to hear people crying in the audience. I've never heard that before, and it made me feel alternately guilty and happy. Mostly it made me cry harder. See above.
- Mom and Dad loved it (so they said, and I believe it). It is amazingly comforting to hear their laughter in the audience.
- It is awkward and scary (and flattering) to have so many people say that this was the best one yet, when we will no longer have the same time, funding and support. Of course we don't want to slip lower, but....
I sent a live picture from the show--I get to fiddle with my cell phone during the pre-show performance and I sent the following not-so-flattering photo over to you, my fellow Voxers:
There is an intense hopefulness, I think, with live performance. It is scary and hard, but there is always the hope that somebody will like what you've done. As much as you want people buying tickets, what you really want is somebody who appreciates the work that's gone into putting a show on for them. One of the best emails I received said:
Congratulations for adding value to the world, making people think, and entertaining us.
That's not so much to ask for, is it?
Thank you to everyone who came to the show, or who cheered me on here at Vox or wished me good luck. Your support and enthusiasm makes the struggle worth it. I hope I can return the favor. I am filled with appreciation and gratitude.
It is astonishing to see someone perform, someone you know and don't expect to be surprised by, and to still be stunned by the mystery that is buried within each of us, that secret person who doesn't get let out to play. I can think of no better reason to perform than to let that secret someone out on stage, briefly, to do what they want to do and to let you know what exactly they are thinking. It is a secret intimacy, and one that does not pass often between anyone but lovers.
Thanks, Emily.
Hello!
I started Vox Minneapolis because I'm sure there are plenty of savvy Minneapolitans on Vox, but I don't know where to find them. I moved here from New Mexico five years ago, and even though it's not home, the city has grown on me. A lot.
Here are five cool things in Minneapolis that I love, or that I want to check out. Hopefully there's a little something here for everyone:
- The Minnesota Zen Center. It seems like a remarkable place, and here it is tucked away on the edge of Uptown.
- Lurid Thoughts and Lucid Visions, by Wicked Sister Dance Theater. I don't know them that well, but I do know some of the performers, who are very very skilled. It's at the Red Eye Theater and opens this Friday.
- The Bryant Lake Bowl Theater. Easily my favorite venue in this town of thousands of theater seats. Kristin Van Loon is the artistic director, and she sure knows how to pick 'em. Plus the food is great and you can have a beer. Plus you can bowl there.
- Surly Brewing Co. brews the beer that convinced me I really like beer. Bender and Darkness are my favorites, but lots of people go mad for Furious. Technically not in Minneapolis, but their beer can be found all over the place.
- Midtown Global Market. I love it there. United Noodle AND Holy Land in one magical place? This place strikes unerringly at my little foodie heart. I can get the best hummus in town, and lingonberry jam, and pretty little trinkets, and a pinata, and dance lessons, and fresh produce, all in one single trip. It is painful in its beauty.
What are your top 5 recommendations in Minneapolis?
