Anne Bogart's SITI Company: Who Do You Think You Are

As soon as I looked at the setting on the stage, I knew the performance would be odd. My eyes were immediately drawn to the black and white bull's-eye in the center of the floor. Flanking this were two sets of unopened beer bottles. Above it all was a tangle of fluorescent lights, almost appearing to be a nest. 

The show began with a woman walking in on stage, but oddly enough the lights did not dim or alter in any way prior to her entrance. Briefly distracted by this, my attention was refocused as more people entered the scene. Their dress confused me. I could not pinpoint the period they were supposed to be from. Individually they would probably not necessarily seem out of place, but together they somehow seemed to been pulled from the past. Not one particular year or decade mind you, but maybe more of a strange average of the years between 1960 and 1990. It is difficult to explain. 

In terms of strangeness though, the set and dress were nothing compared to the performance itself. Everything was extremely disjointed. Scenes occurred in varying lengths, often with no overly apparent chronology. Between each scene, the lights would darken and an extremely loud droning sound would occur. There was a narrative, but I don't think the specifics of the story were at all important. Instead, I think the feeling it was trying to convey into the audience was more relevant. Unfortunately, I am at a loss as to how to put this feeling into words. Convoluted disjointedness begins to describe it, but it was certainly not all of it. 

During the approximate second half of the performance, things were more straightforward, but only slightly so. The story previously being conveyed was more or less abandoned, but now it was somehow being explained, at least indirectly. The brain and how it works was randomly being explained. Sometimes in technical terms, sometimes in odd human representations. The more that was explained, the more I had a bizarre sense of being more confused yet more enlightened. I thought I began to understand the first half and its relevance to the second, but now I am seeing multiple possibilities, all of which seem equally wrong and right. 

Despite my slight annoyance and obvious confusion while seeing the performance, I appreciate now how much it made me contemplate it possible meanings and how it all related to myself and the rest of the world. Perhaps that was its real purpose.

SITI: Under Construction...and Caution!

I attended the Saturday evening performance of SITI: Under Construction and I felt a spectrum of unexpected emotions. I'm anxious to hear about Tuesday's performance to compare.

The background setting in the theatre really looked like the stage was under construction. The lights were on and the actors and people were walking around as if they were still in the final setup. There were no secrets or unveiling of the show...it was all out there from the beginning.

As my watch read 7:30, the actors appeared on stage and one actor invited everyone to come find new seats, closer to the front. The audience wasn't full so he insisted that we all sit "in the same room." I cautiously stepped forward and found new seats with my guest.

The show opened with an explanation of the "scenes" that were going to be performed followed by a song. There were a series of "scenes" which appeared to be set in the 1950s. I'm so glad I brought someone because I needed someone to confirm my confusion and ultimately discuss what happened in the show immediately after.

The show continued and I sat back and tried to piece together the diverse group of actors who changed outfits, moved props on stage and conveyed a story to the audience. However there are two moments that stand out to me the most in this show and maybe stand out the most to me in terms of the entire semester.

This is where I would have liked to see a CAUTION sign...
One woman came to the front and read note cards in front of a microphone and to be honest I don't remember what was read because on the rest of the stage each actor committed suicide...well not really but each actor represented a way to end your life. It was graphic. It was disturbing. A recorded tape also played simultaneously like a news broadcast discussing tragedies, deaths, etc. One man took off his clothes on stage and wrapped himself in a large, clear tarp and rolled around the stage to signify suffocation. Another man was masking taped to a pole by other people and hung there between two chairs. He was carried to the side of the stage and he looked like he was wrapped in a cocoon.
At this point a family with a young child got up and left. I was more shocked that there was no warning in the program about nudity or graphic images/messages. I don't think there was much description at all about the performance. I felt bad for that boy because he didn't know what was going on and I remember a time when we left a movie theatre early because it ended up being too sad or inappropriate and I have never forgotten that.

I know this is getting long but I wanted to highlight the other most "memorable moment." After the suicide display, one of the actresses came into the audience with a microphone and went up to somebody and simply asked, "When was the last time you had sex?" The man was embarrassed but went along with it and answered. Several people were asked questions about their personal sex lives and I kept thinking get that microphone away from me!

One thing I almost forgot! At the end of the performance, the audience was invited to come on stage and look at the set and props, even move them around to finish off their message about chaos in society and how they made the set which is random, and changeable. The show came full circle in that sense: the actors invited to the performance in a closer seat and then invited us back to join them on stage by the end.

All in all, it was different and in a way I'm glad I went and have a chance to blog about it because I just have so much to say. It wasn't what I expected and I still don't fully understand it. I've decided it was abstract. It was art.

Art Tatum, playing "Yesterdays"

Though we've already had a class discussing the Charles Rosen concert, here's my comment on the concert: this video of the jazz pianist Art Tatum (1909-1956), playing his version of the song "Yesterdays." Reportedly, when the Rusian composer Sergei Rachmaninoff heard Art Tatum play, he declared Tatum to be the best piano player in the world, in any style.

Grand Text Auto

After taking in the exhibit "Grand Text Auto" at the Krannert Museum, I was struck by how old-fashioned it all seemed, though these artists/writers apparently consider themselves avant-garde. Much of this--narrative interactivity, randomly-generated texts, etc--has been done since the 1950s, as can be seen by this video of William S. Burroughs describing "cut-up" writing.


Cut-Ups from Matti Niinimäki on Vimeo.

The interactive computer game also seemed extremely old hat, the graphics primitive even by late 1990s standards, while the narrative was basically a soap opera that couldn't get going unless you assumed the role of an avatar and nudged it along. Lots of work, little reward.

The work in this exhibit appeared more like ancient artifacts than anything cutting edge--quaint examples of a by-gone age, in the face of the vast resources of (and audience for) interactivity on the web.

The Thousand-Hand Guan Yin

Okay, I'm not sure why I'm posting this, except that it's one of the oddest and yet most amazing dance performances I've ever seen, particularly because all the performers are deaf, and yet all the movements are carefully synchronized with the music. This is the China Disabled Performing Arts Troupe, performing the Thousand-Hand Guan Yin, or the Bodhisattva of Compassion. More information on the dance's symbolism can be found here:
http://tywkiwdbi.blogspot.com/2009/04/thousand-hand-guan-yin.html

Anyway, if this performance doesn't fit the terms "art, creativity and diversity," then nothing does!

Gamelan music video

Since Stephen brought up gamelan music, I thought I'd look for a representative music video. This one is pretty good . . .

Charles Rosen: Pianist Extraordinaire

Piano recitals don't rank very high in my book. I played piano for several years and ultimately dreaded the recitals. I didn't understand why we had to showcase our skills when we were just learning. It was an embarrassing, nerve racking experience that led to my decision to stop playing piano. Lame, I know.

However Charles Rosen changed my view of a "piano recital." The first half of the show was a beautiful combination of peaceful music primarily by Chopin. I enjoyed all the pieces but the first one seemed to stand out the most. I'm not sure if it was because it was the first one I heard and I was simply surprised by his skill but throughout the first half, all I kept thinking about was the first Beethoven piece.

While the concert was approximately two hours, it went by faster than I thought. I really enjoyed switching perspectives to see Rosen's fingers play the piano. The determination and precision in each slow and quick movement kept my attention throughout his final pieces. My hands tired from clapping so I couldn't imagine the exhaustion he felt.

Lastly, he memorized all pieces as there was no sheet music in front of him. He is obviously an experienced pianist and his showcase of talent throughout the performance covered a variety of pieces that surprisingly entertained me with no problem. I worried that the music would lull me to sleep but I was jolted awake by focusing on him as he played.

Pianos are one instrument that always throw me off because I can't possibly grasp how so much sound and quality comes from just one instrument. Charles Rosen was like a one man band or more fittingly a pianist extraordinaire.

Piano, gamelan and the Matrix

Last night, watching Charles Rosen perform solo piano works by Beethoven, Chopin and Brahms, I thought about how strange this must seem, and probably boring, to someone unfamiliar with classical music. The piano is pretty much the only instrument on which people play long, solo recitals, a tradition begun by the 19th-century virtuoso Franz Liszt ("le récital, c'est moi"). It doesn't have the sonic variety of the orchestra, or even the capability of changing the sound once a note starts: you press a key and make a sound, and it decays. You can play soft or loud (which explains the instrument's original name, "piano-forte"), and you can make notes sustain by pressing the damper pedal. That's it. Yet with this limited palette, composers have written volumes and volumes of music in every style imaginable. And discerning listeners recognize the "voice" of different composers and pianists just in the way they write for the piano, or play it. In the monochromatic timbre, or sound-color, of the piano, super-signals lie embedded, like the messages of Morse code emerging from undifferentiated dots and dashes. It's not by accident that piano keys are black and white.

These thoughts last night led me to Bali, where I visited last summer to play gamelan music. The gamelan is a metal percussion orchestra, tuned differently than western instruments: instead of 12 pitches, there are only seven, or even sometimes four or five. To uninitiated listeners the music may all sound the same (very fast and loud). But Balinese listeners follow the intricacies of the music, and hear wondrous variety in each piece, commenting on daring compositional gambits, unexpected flourishes, and so on. This kind of not-understanding, or snobbery, can happen in almost any kind of music or art—your parents don't understand the music you listen to. But something about the monochromaticism of the piano, or the limited pitches of the gamelan, seem to put this issue into relief: hearing the super-signal becomes even more important when the surface of the sound is relatively undifferentiated.

It makes me think of the scene in The Matrix where Neo and another character are looking at the green computer symbols cascading down the videoscreens before them. Neo (the uninitiated) sees only symbols; but the adept sees "a blond here, a redhead there." He sees past the surface, directly into the super-signal. This kind of seeing, or hearing, lies behind all kinds of human activity—it's pattern recognition. Perhaps the reason piano music appeals to so many of us is because it strenuously exercises our powers of high-level pattern recognition.

I was not able to make the Rosen performance last night, but I did see the Illini Union Board's presentation of West Side Story over the weekend, so I shall write about that.

I remember seeing West Side Story when I was much younger, perhaps 10 or 11, and liking it very much, so I was very excited to see this most recent performance. The scheduling of the event targeted all the moms here for mother's weekend, and the crowd certainly showed it. I was surrounded on all sides by parents. There was even a person behind me who I overheard saying that this was their third time seeing the performance (their son played Action). I too was seeing someone I knew in the performance. A friend from my floor played Officer Krupke. From high school, I was used to seeing a bunch of people I knew on stage. But seeing just one person I knew, and the fact that the production was definitely larger than a typical high school's, his presence seemed like a much bigger deal. 

The performance itself was overall very well done and extremely entertaining. The orchestra sounded great and so did the performers, although sometimes it was apparent that certain characters mics were not turned up to the same volume level as others, but this could have been on purpose, I am not sure. The girl who played Maria had a beautiful and strong voice, but sometimes she would overpower the boy who played Anthony and nearly make him impossible to hear (there was specualtion that he got the role just because he was a senior anyway). The awesome array of songs were definitely a highlight of this (and I assume all other) productions. The  great songs had me singing to myself at random a full two days after, and I certainly was not alone. 

Rosen article

I apologize for not having a more direct link...not really sure how to do that but this should work:
http://the217.com/articles/view/pianist_charles_rosen_to_play_foellinger_great_hall

Click for an article from Buzz magazine about Charles Rosen for Wednesday's performance!

Mariza

The guitars immediately impressed me with their beautiful sound blended together. I couldn't believe they could move their fingers so fast. Then Mariza came in. She looked like a giant compared to the others sitting down, but absolutely gorgeous. I was constantly watching her steps and thought she'd trip on her long dress any moment, but she never even stumbled.

Her voice amazed me. I got shivers multiple times throughout the concert. I liked it when she danced to the beat or moved her arms around, she really got into the music which made me get into the music even more.

Each musician was amazing at their instrument. I liked hearing each solo throughout the concert, especially the drummer. He had so many different objects to use that I was excited to see what was next. They all felt their music, I love seeing people really into what they're doing.

I liked that Mariza talked to us, it became more personable. I also liked how she sang in english for one of her songs. I could tell she was really trying to connect us to her portugese music and it worked. I was surprised to hear how beautifully she sang in english, but I liked her usual way of singing more.

I've had her songs stuck in my head since I left the concert, I can't get them out.

Mariza

Mariza impressed me. I saw the YouTube videos on the blog but the experience in a live theater was different. Her powerful voice carried throughout the audience, with and without a microphone.

Her dress stood out immediately as she appeared to be a gigantically tall, skinny, model. She gracefully moved across the stage as if her feet floated above the ground

At first the lighting bothered me because I thought it was too dim. I wanted sharper contrasts between light and dark. I could see Mariza and appreciated the individual spotlights for the different musicians. But I wanted to see the detail of her necklace, dress and makeup. We were seated higher in the theater so I'm not sure if a darker illusion fell over my eyes but by the end I was pleased with variety of lighting and greater emphasis on the spotlight.

As for her singing...it was powerful. It was in Portuguese but as she mentioned everyone in the audience was united by the music. I didn't really mind that I didn't know the exact translation. I was able to look around at the musicians or her stage presence. I think she made a very personal, stage presence and a high comfort level between audience and performer. There was not a fourth wall in my mind. She broke that by teaching us new words, asking for us to clap and shout out where we were from. I think she truly cared about her performance and wasn't like an American pop star who goes on concert tour and doesn't always seem to be the happiest camper.

Lastly, I'm glad she sang one song in English because it just proved to me the capabilities of her voice. It still sounded excellent when she wasn't singing her native language...which further impressed me!

birds

Looking through the work of Audubon I was immediately filled with remembrance of a taxidermy museum, then realizing that that is exactly what he did. Don't get me wrong, his drawings and paintings were very beautiful and precise, but they gave off a sort of creepy dead feeling to me. Some of it was too still, too real to be true. I was very impressed with the expressions he captured on each of the birds faces, that seemed like something that would be very difficult and I thought he conveyed each bird's expression very well.

The photographs is the next room also impressed me. I liked searching for each bird in each picture. It made you notice more in the picture that you usually wouldn't have if you didn't have to search for a specific object. I liked seeing the surrounding of the bird and how they fit into it perfectly. My favorite was the picture with a girl infront of the bird. It made me feel like the bird was watching the girl, waiting for something exciting to happen, where in reality people are usually watching the birds and waiting for something exciting to happen.

I felt a little awkward in the beginning of Manson's workshop, feeling young and not knowing what to expect. I enjoyed getting to know each person by how they acted and what they said while introducing themselves. Throughout the workshop Manson constantly made me feel comfortable in my surroundings, making me feel the earth beneath me, listening to everything from my heartbeat to the buses outside. She made me actually feel and think about what was going on at that exact moment through my body and mind.

I also wanted to join the dancers outside in the rain, and if I wasn't wearing a dress I probably would have. I was jealous of their freedom. They did whatever they felt at that exact moment, falling to the ground, against trees, in the rocks, mud, and onto eachother. Sometimes they reminded me of young children, without a care in the world. I wanted to feel what they felt. Manson's workshop was bizzare and I've never experienced anything like it but I think it gave me many new things to think about.

Birds!

As I walked around the Audubon exhibit and examined all the works presented, I could help but be extremely impressed. From the slight ruffle in some of the birds' feathers to fact that each bird was live size, the attention to detail was extreme. I was curious as to how Audubon conducted his work, and I was pleased to find there was a video in the exhibit that told us how. The grid matching method that Audubon used was interesting, but I was surprised at how painstaking the process seemed to be. The man replicating the process told how his arm was tight not too long after starting, so I cannot imagine how Audubon managed to work for the hours at a time he was said to have devoted to the birds. Slightly unrelated, I found it rather entertaining to discover that Audubon was a strong advocate for protection of wild birds despite the fact that on an average hunting day he was reported to have bagged a hundred birds at a time. 

For the second part of our visit to the exhibit, "Navigation: An Investigation into Physical Intelligence", I really had no idea what what was going on at first, and I don't think a lot of other people did. I was expecting a small group of humbly dressed dancers somehow jumping around in an attempt to imitate the flight of birds. Little did I know that would be the one attempting to imitate a bird. Attempting to emulate the movement of a flock was extremely interesting and even fun, but I was most intrigued to learn how birds are able to navigate. I was already aware of the use of magnetism, but was surprised and delighted to find that birds are able to hear things such as the Atlantic Ocean's waves crashing on the eastern shore or the wind blowing through the Grand Canyon and use them to navigate. 

Monson's final part of the performance, which I've decided to call the Earth and Rain Dance, was extremely engaging. I am having difficulty pinpointing exactly why, but I think it was because the performers just completely let loose and seem to let their body interact with the environment unhindered. I found myself wanting to join them, but given the mud and rain (and perhaps  my lack of confidence) I decided just to watch. In the future, though, I would love to try the dance out.

Jennifer Monson Workshop

Last Thursday, after viewing the Audubon exhibit I didn't know what to expect for the dance workshop. As we waited for the performers to arrive, we realized we were the performers. Jennifer Monson was an eccentric character who broke the boundary between speaker and audience. I think it was very effective to have everyone introduce themselves and form a circle like in a discussion setting. A group of strangers became like a flock of birds migrating around the museum and listening to each other. Members of the group even referenced peers by name as if we were all close friends.

I must admit I was antsy at the beginning because I just didn't know where she was going to or what she was going to do. I really wanted to see her dance because she seemed like an experienced, unique dancer. However I enjoyed the group activity and meditation aspects of the workshop. It was a refreshing break from my afternoon and I left feeling as though I couldn't accurately convey what happened without sounding ridiculous. "...Then we ran around the first floor of the art gallery avoiding potential predators..."

Finally, Monson and a few of her students performed outside in the rain. It was obviously a very natural setting and all of the onlookers seemed very impressed from behind the glass window. Monson and her students were in their element, unaffected by the rain or the wet gravel. It was their stage and they danced and embraced the surrounding with no difficulty.

Looking back, it was a unique and bizarre experience that I don't think I would have enjoyed as much if I knew what was coming. That element of surprise or lack of control helped me go with the flow and work with the other audience members to learn from Monson.

A range of Portuguese music

Yes, Mariza is a wonderful singer, and fado music can be entrancing, but it isn't the only music from Portugal! To give a little musical context for the upcoming Mariza concert we'll be attending, here are music videos from other Portuguese artists. The group Dazkarieh is a sort of punk/folk ensemble, and the video for their song "Vitorina" has a distinctive nervous energy.


Rodrigo Lêao is a composer and keyboard player who specializes in a kind of deep cabaret, and "Voltar" is typical: silky and sultry.


Jorge Cruz sings a folk pop music with attitude. In this video of his song "Nada," he walks across various Portuguese landscapes. I recognize the green Zêzere river valley, the mountainous Serra da Estrela, the Dom Luis Bridge in Porto, the wheat fields of the Alentejo, and the sunny Costa da Caparica.


Finally, the great jazz composer and pianist Mário Laginha. This solo piece, "Fado," is from his award-winning CD "Cancoês & Fugas." The video is a slideshow of old photos of Lisbon, plugging into the deep love the Portuguese feel for their capital city.


So, enjoy! I'm a Portuguese music fanatic, and I'm really trying to restrain myself here, believe it or not. So don't get me started on Portuguese rock and roll, and the going-on-20-years-and-counting band Rádio Macau . . .

Okay, I can't restrain myself. Here's Rádio Macau: a lousy single photo video, but a slow, unsettling song, featuring the unusual voice of lead singer Xana: "Quando Entro Nos Teus Olhos," from their latest CD, "Oito."

Our Lines Combined...

Before break, I know we mentioned trying to create poems from each other's favorite lines...so I just tried it out. I think it is a neat idea...reminds me of the bird videos in a way how (this is far fetched) but we are all moving "our wings" on our own with our own lines but together we form one moving mass of birds which results in one poem that appears to fit together like it always was like that...I know it sounds weird but those birds are neat!

Here is goes:

The characteristic silence of the audience was shattered.
...made me jump out of my seat... twice.
It lets your imagination run wild.
It was a new world.
There's something about objects falling out of thin air that excites me.
Complete drama. Complete love. And I melt for it every time.
I was surprised that something so simple could be so powerful.
The show was bizarre.
It's really all about perspective.
I loved seeing their emotions through their eyes.
I realized I was also walking into a new world, one I've never been in before.
I got goosebumps whenever they hit a note with full power and held it there, and I waited and hoped for another note to strike me even harder.
Each experience, regardless of whether I enjoy it or not, will have value.
So I went in as a blank slate.
I was sad when I realized it was over.
I'm glad I stepped into that world.

Anna Deavere Smith (!)

When Tuesday night came around, I was honestly at first greatly annoyed that I had to attend this event. My homework was copious and I knew it was going to take me a great deal of time to complete. Even though I eventually got to bed very very late, I am still extremely glad that I went. 

The name "Anna Deavere Smith" always sounded vaguely familiar to me, but I never investigated. Went I flipped over the program for the show and saw her picture, again I felt that she was extremely familiar. I flipped again to her bio, scanned, and then knew exactly where I knew her from. She played Nancy McNally on the television show West Wing. She was a secondary character, but still important. West Wing was and is still my favorite television show, so seeing Ms. Smith in person was extremely exciting for me (and also probably made my enjoyment of her importance basically automatic). 

Her impressions were amazing. I have never heard of most of the people she emulated, but I thoroughly enjoyed all of them. From an anthropological perspective, the act of one person portraying a group of very different people's opinion on the loose topic of "Change in America" was extremely interesting. I felt as though I was witnessing 8 (?) different case studies at once. 

Again, I enjoyed her entire performance, but there were several highlights. Her first person (Studds perhaps?) was extremely entertaining. Stick me in a room with a spunky old person who tends to ramble and I'll be happy for hours. This Studds person seemed just like that and I am sad that I never encountered him. I also enjoyed her Anne Richards. For some reason, I have seen many things that have somehow randomly included her, and I always found her very entertaining. Smith's impression was delightful. My favorite person she emulated was of the Korean woman. I found it extremely interesting to get a non Black or White opinion in what was depicted as an only Black and White racial issue. 

Ms. Smith's performance was thoroughly. I am very glad to have gone and would attend another one of her events in a heartbeat.

Mariza, from Portugal

Here is a video of a beautiful song performed by Mariza, widely acknowledged as the greatest fadista (singer of fado songs) of her generation. Fado is a style of music that has often been described as a kind of Portuguse blues or soul music, because of its deep passion. Here is the song "Meu Fado":

Mariza - Meu Fado - 2005
by mado88

Here's another video, from a live, outdoor performance in Lisbon, right beside the grand Tour de Belém, where Mariza sings"Há Uma Música do Povo," with lyrics by the great Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa:


The Portuguese adore Mariza, and here's a video sketch, "Super Mariza," that pokes some affectionate fun at her, by the comedy troupe Gato Fedorento (Stinking Cat), which is the Portuguese equivalent of our SNL. No Portuguese language ability needed to appreciate the essential humor!

my lines

I could not stop laughing for 5 minutes straight. My stomach hurt.

I haven't laughed that hard in I dont' know how long.

... made my heart jump.

There's something about objects falling out of thin air that excites me.

Complete drama. Complete love. And I melt for it every time.

I got goosebumps whenever they hit a note with full power and held it there, and I waited and hoped for another note to strike me even harder.

I felt very small sitting down.

I was always looking for a melody, and once I expected one to soon come, it ended abruptly.

...made me jump out of my seat... twice.

It was a new world.

... and I followed it through the quest for righteousness.

... game me vivid pictures in my mind and strong feelings.

I realized I was also walking into a new world, one I've never been in before.

... made my heart throb to the beat.

... kept me at the edge of my seat.

I was sad when I realized it was over.

It was surprising, beautiful, intense, and outright hilarioius.

I'm glad I stepped into that world.

... immediately brought me back to my childhood.

... was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

It made me feel important. It made me feel unique. It made me feel real.

"Thats me?!" I thought.

I would read into myself and begin to realize who I really was.

It lets your imagination run wild.

I loved seeing their emotions through their eyes.