I know I live under a log, but even so sometimes a tiny bit of the outside world filters in and I don’t remember any hype about this show. Which is fine with me because I have a tortured relationship with pre-show information.
I hate to hear anything about a movie before I go see it. I am regularly disappointed by the relationship between program/advertising material and performance, usually because the material colors my expectations in an unhelpful shade. To say nothing of the injustice of having to create a blurb and press release months before knowing what the performance will be. (Just some of my innumerable weaknesses.)
All of which is a way to begin with the front of the program for this puppy. Beginning with “1906 die bruke” there’s the list of art world monikers in lower case and chronological order, interspersed with the performance’s title (or maybe it was the preamble) in all capitals ending in 2006 with “PERFORMANCE“. (I had trouble getting the strikethrough into the title of this post.)
So this is what I was thinking: it’s nice to see something that appears to take into consideration the long work of people dealing with representation and its place in the world. As if art was something that didn’t need to be defended. As if art had its own history, culture, economy, social institutions, practices, discourses, etc. that are simultaneously as independent and as engaged with the world as the practices of medicine, economics, architecture, agriculture, etc. are. In other words, as if the way so many relate to art as external, peripheral, irrelevant, misguided, elitist, self-indulgent, or ignorant was just plain wrong.
I also thought, in my smalltown Minnesota way, “What chutzpah.” Or hubris, maybe. As if this performance was the culmination of a century-long process. But in a way it’s inevitably true, as it is for any contemporary work no matter how thoughtless or badly done. And this of course points out the weaknesses of the whole idea of historical progress. Which in turn is tied into the notion of “career” and any associated endpoint.
So with that as my preamble, I will mention that I liked the depiction of creative work among those of us whose personalities fluctuate between the petty dictator and the under-appreciated laborer. And the necessary interdependence of these perspectives — creation of pop songs and performance works aren’t all that different in abstract essentials from the daily of work of “real” jobs. (As those of us who work a “day” job to survive know from experience.)
Following the formal device of the creation of something and to its presentation was a comforting storyline, particularly so when its a pop song. (And it was catchy, although hearing any three notes over and over for an hour is bound to make them stick in your head — not until I went to Cub afterwards for some groceries (shopping without the kids! Freedom!) and had one of those 70s pop song pummeled in.)
I also liked the use of projection and material used so well by Shimon Attie and others. There’s something exciting that happens when you project images of material on the material itself. And of course the smoke/fog shifts from clarifying to dispersing to obscuring the image.
There was a lingering whiff of self-righteousness in the relationship between the creator and the audience (there she was, two rows in front of me with her headset, now she’s onstage adjusting the positions of the instruments, now the show is over and she moves downstage with a crew member, watching the audience). She was an advisor on Sarah Michelson’s Daylight (Minneapolis), and the two works seem to share an investigation of audience/performer power relations that assumes audiences know little to nothing about their expectations, role, power, etc. which ends up being condescending.
In general this was the most interesting thing I’ve seen there this year in part because it was aware of its own history and practices, in part because it didn’t hesitate to be entertaining as well as thoughtful, and despite a sometimes condescending or hubristic attitude.
There were also the writings inside the program which for me worked like parallel, or distinct, lines of thought with the performance — and were also something to read when things got dull. Thanks!
Yeah, I get it. Claude Wampler seems to want to interrogate/celebrate the strange, even geeky ephemerality of the creative process, the tension between liveness and its opposite, the contingent relationship between the audience and the performer (not to mention the real and the virtual or, maybe, the authentic and its counterfeit), the fluid nature of performance . . . blah-di-blah-blah-blah . . . but this show was dull and poorly executed–all smoke and no mirror. First, the audience was manhandled by the artist: “You must sit where I decide!” “The best seats in the house are in the very back row.” Still, even in the back the special effects were disappointing and, seemingly, under-rehearsed (though the ghost-like drummer hovering about ten feet above his kit was kinda cool). Watching the goofy band (think Status Quo meets The Flaming Lips) coax out a drab prog-rock tune was funny and maybe even clever for about ten minutes; beyond that it was simply annoying ad infinitum. It didn’t help that I was sitting next to a young woman who started tapping her toes and singing along with the band during the first or second iteration and didn’t stop for the next 45 minutes! At one point she got up to dance in the aisle, hooting and hollerin’ and screaming for Bobby, and I’m thinking this gal’s got to be a part of the “art” cause if she isn’t I’m feeling kinda sad for her (she had her own light as well). And the audience, like sheep, played into Wampler’s desire to confront their positionality. They/we (ok, I was silent and ready to leave the theatre) “performed” the role of rock audience in what can best be described as communal pastiche. The woman to my right waved her cell phone in the air like a Bic lighter (her cell even rang, much to my delight, but, alas, she refused to answer; such display of decorum would never happen at the Target Center) while others cat-called and clapped in unison in classic “we want an encore” fashion. As I got up to leave the audience, still seated, looked to the stage for reassurance that they had not just been punked. But the stage remained empty and the song remained the same.
Comment by Jeff Turner — 1/25/2008 @ 5:16 pm
As I left the Walker, I quipped to my partner, “I can see why she called it ‘career ender’.” I wasn’t angry (like I think I was supposed to be?) but I was disappointed. It was utterly dull and manipulative. I get it. Audiences are stupid cattle that artists should alienate. I read RoseLee Goldberg too. But where’s the new and interesting here? Where’s the development of….anything? This is one of the most underwhelming offerings I’ve seen at the Walker in a long time. I respectfully disagree with you, Mr. Campbell, and will probably never attend another Wampler event. Which is probably moot, since this is the end of her career.
Comment by Jen Tuder — 1/25/2008 @ 7:17 pm
I would heartily agree with Jeff Turner and Jen Tuder above. To be completely honest, when the performance ended I was utterly indifferent and bored. I felt it was just another obtuse commentary on performance as a genre. My ears perked at the announcement that there would be a Q & A session - perhaps something interesting would come of this evening yet! Alas, all that was to follow was some commentary on audience/viewer expectations, a hilariously offensive comment on the New York vs. Minneapolis art scenes (the shift in energy in that room was lightening-quick as the herd of Minnesotans bristled!), and nary a mention of what the artist's intention or statement might be.
Comment by Ellen Mueller — 1/25/2008 @ 9:16 pm
Please retell the hilariously offensive comment, Ellen. Give the rest of us a chance to be hilariously offended.
Comment by Lightsey Darst — 1/26/2008 @ 9:59 am
I didn’t find the comment offensive, though perhaps offense was taken. She (almost) certainly didn’t mean to be offensive. It was something about the difference for her between showing in NYC and in Minneapolis. On further thinking about it I believe she may be thinking that what she had there was a “Minneapolis” audience and one can forgive her thinking that, because she did after all come to Minneapolis to present her work. But what we who live here know quite well without knowing we know it sometimes is that the WAC is not Minneapolis. It is in fact unique in Minnesota and the audience there is not at all Minnesotan. We may be Minnesotans when we walk in but once we’re in there we change. We become Walkerian or whatever. What I mean is that it’s a space ruled by the peculiar filter of the Walker which does its very best to set itself apart from Minnesota and by in large succeeds in not being Minnesotan, because if there’s anything Minnesotan it’s the general effort not to stand out. So Wampler is caught in a hall of mirrors which must seem strange since that’s what she’s doing, setting up a hall of mirrors so that we can see ourselves, but unfortunately what we see is not ourselves or even her but the WAC’s notion of who we all are. A frustrating experience all round but that’s what we pay and/or get paid for at the WAC. It’s not her or us we experience, it’s It, the place where we’re meeting. And I doubt that’s her purpose though on reflection she may decide that that works too. I think in the discussion she was discovering the spot she was in, as she seemed to think changing the name would help. I don’t think changing the name of the series would help, because the situation is deeper than the name.
I might add that there does seem to be some things that work better in that context than others and perhaps this sort of exercise she seems to be carrying out here is not suited to what I see as the peculiar situation there. In any case the thing to discuss is not so much the piece which is translucent, it’s the context within which it was shown, which is what we experienced.
Comment by Ben Kreilkamp — 1/26/2008 @ 11:22 am
Honestly, I don’t remember the exact wording because the effect on the audience was so much more entertaining than the comment itself, (if anyone clearly remembers it, do recount it… I know I’m certainly not getting this right-on…) but it was something about in New York you could do this kind of a piece and get certain results, whereas here it is different. This seems like a very obvious and logical statement, and upon retelling, it is not that funny (unfortunately, or fortunately, a had-to-be-there experience), but the reaction from the crowd was the amusing part to me. A palpable defensiveness filled the room, and the discussion devolved (or perhaps evolved) away from the performance piece into a discussion about why the artist felt New York might be a better location for the piece, and ultimately ended in the artist apologizing for her remark (kudos to her for acknowledging her snafu).
Now that I’ve explained the joke away
…anyway, just trust that the folks on either side of me and myself all chuckled as soon as Wampler finished the sentence because we could all feel the audience collectively seem to think, “dem’s fightin’ words,” a la classic western movie. Clint Eastwood might have been suddenly illuminated on stage pushing over a poker table, and it would have felt totally fitting and possibly a part of the performance.
Comment by Ellen Mueller — 1/26/2008 @ 11:57 am
Sure, a Twin Cities audience is going to be different than those folks who wander into the Kitchen in Manhattan, but only by a few degrees. I’m not ready to hate on Minnesotans (writes the relocated southerner) as a way of assuaging the artist’s intent or even her “cultural” confusion. Nor am I willing to blame the Walker for booking shows that put us midwesterners in our place (a theory I completely reject). I’ve seen a lot of wild and woolly stuff in the McGuire Theatre (and the Southern and a variety of places in town) but audiences have, by and large, enjoyed the ride. Hell, I remember the giddy sense of exhilaration walking out of Elevator Repair Service’s GATZ, and I remember the probing questions racing through my mind after Richard Maxwell and the New York City Players visited the Southern a few years ago. Wampler’s work felt derivative, overly academic (Phil Auslander will love this thing), and, as I’ve said elsewhere, cynical. It’s not us, it’s not the Walker, it’s the work. There was no there there.
Comment by Jeff Turner — 1/26/2008 @ 12:06 pm
Just to restate:
Yes a Twin Cities audience is going to be different that those folks who wander into the Kitchen in Manhattan, but only by a few degrees.
****************
Lets talk a few Degrees of Separation
In Minnesota people likely drove an automobile to the performance, in New York an audience member more likely rode Public Transportation.
In Minnesota in the McGuire, people were watching a much larger space than the New Yorkers in the Kitchens performance space.
In Minnesota the Walker Stage does not have the monacre of being a “performance with media” pioneer or hotbed of creation. I would say from my opinion that walking into the Kitchen you actually may expect a piece like Wamplers.
************
How about the middle, the things that are closer and more likely to be the same;
There would be likely a few young people in New York who had their IPod in their pocket, or out and being turned off as the lights dimmed like the young people that were sitting in front of me tonight.
People who see shows at the Walker and the Kitchen likely read about what to see at the venues on the internet and use the internet in their daily lives.
Both probably pay more money for and spend more time with media based services (including the Internet, phones, Netflix, whatever) and devices than they spend in $ or time to see live entertainment.
The conditions that created the audience ‘cheers for no one’ effect (clapping singing, cat calling, throwing , yelling , foot tapping ) I think would be the same, and just as likely to take effect.
*****
Yes if Ms Wampler’s career goal was to make it big in the entertainment world, then she should just comment about Britney like that Chris fellow on Youtube (”LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!”), rather than spending her money and time creating (wonderful in my opinion) High Art Trash like this (again, wonderful ) show.
Comment by E Lynch — 1/26/2008 @ 9:29 pm
Oh yeah, and someone tell me what’s wrong with talking about performance (or representation) during a performance? Would you rather hear about polar bears?
Comment by E Lynch — 1/26/2008 @ 9:32 pm
I think it was necessary to stay for the Q&A to understand the performance… but not because of any answers Wampler gave. She didn’t address what was really going in with the piece, because it was still going on at the time… the performance continued through the Q&A. Actually, the heart of the performance was in the Q&A in my opinion. The questioners were planted and well rehearsed. Her comments on the title of OUT THERE and the NY scene VS Minneapolis were staged and Phillip Bither was performing with her. Some of the comments here lead me to believe that a lot of people were taken in by this act, which I think is kind of hilarious and makes this program one of the better performances I’ve seen lately. I was extremely agitated by the people in the audience who were planted there - until I realized they were involved. After I realized this I understood that nothing really happened on stage that was worth thinking about. It was all happening in the audience. Without the Q&A and the plants, there was nothing there.
But, the only thing I never understood was out of the 6-7 questions asked (I went to the Friday night show) how many were not plants? The journalist from St. Cloud was hilarious to me and may have been sincere, but I still don’t know! Did the bad behavior on the part of the planted audience members encourage more bad behavior from the innocent audience? If so, who were the innocents? That question alone leaves me thinking about this one with a grin on my face.
Comment by bartleby — 1/27/2008 @ 3:10 pm
Mr./Ms. Lynch, why don’t you lay off the scorn and speak more directly. If you’ll look again at the other comments, you’ll see they come from educated art viewers, not philistines.
I take it that part of your point is that the difference in audience and venue affected the performance negatively. Okay, I can buy that. The McGuire is not a big theater, but it did feel cavernous for Wampler’s piece. Also, I can see that if everyone had known what to expect, we might have responded to it all differently. But I can’t see how this is the fault of the audience. This is a bit like saying the revival would have gone over better if the audience had already been believers.
Comment by Lightsey Darst — 1/27/2008 @ 5:57 pm
Oh this is so exciting! What a great birthday present! I was out of town this weekend (celebrating) and so I didn’t get to take part in this conversation (”hem hem…” [yes, that’s a children’s book reference]) until now.
So for example:
For me, this list sounds like a laundry list for an artist to cram into a blurb — or for a publicist who knows what shoes need shining. I agree: blah-di-blah-blah-blah. Although these “issues” can be seen in the work, I was less interested in these than in how the performance used the opportunity: it’s particular mode of representation.
This was a piece by a visual artist, which in this case I think makes a difference. As a general rule, the visual artists I know are much more aware of representational codes than the theater artists I know. I think this is because, as a premise, when you’re a painter you’ve got the paint and then you’ve got the canvas. Your practical materials begin there. The artwork is determined by how, where and why you apply the stuff. The different practices that result is pretty much art history. To me, this means that the subject matter is at the very least continually informed (if not having its parameters completely (pre)determined) by these choices that are foundational. Representation is what you start with.
In other words, (in general) before you decide what you’re going to paint, you decide how you’re going to paint — abstract? figurative? surreal? cartoon? collage? etc. Even if you do it at the same time.
My itching ennui about the other OUT THEREs has to do with the level of awareness of this kind of question when it relates to performance. My pleasure and appreciation for Ms Wampler’s career-ender comes not from any intelligent and pleasurable investigation of a laundry list of thematic issues (’cause I found those a little head-up-one’s-own-nether-regions, frankly) but because this was a piece aware of its own history, practices, and place in the world. And that, my friends, is something that needs to take place if we are to ever manage to escape the mummification of performance that passes in expensive buildings for “Theatre” these days.
As far as the technical skill or entertainment value of this piece, I don’t agree that it was dull or poorly executed, but I have no quibble with anyone who finds it so. Those are arguable points on the basis of taste and perception.
And I do think that an aspect of these perceptions is completely accurate: there wasn’t much going on. If we try to interpret what was happening onstage we are left with little material to work with: a band (maybe not so hot or hip as they would like to be) working up a song (maybe not as good as it could be) as video projections on smoke and screen, and then coming out live and performing it. This lack makes us search for more: Britney Spears’ perfume in the bar (Leave her alone!), who in the audience are plants, audience manipulation, etc. and to remove our Minnesota Nice Gloves (Ahhh! Now we can stretch out them fingers! Crack a knuckle or two! Freedom!)
Yes, the performance manipulated the audience, but so what? It’s not like we’ve never been manipulated before. Most of the time its not by the artist and not so apparent. I agree with Mr Kreilkamp’s assertion that the space and its culture has a lot to do with how we experience what it holds. We don’t like being told what to do? Or we don’t like knowing that we’re being told what to do?
Bartleby has one on me. I didn’t stay for the Q&A. I was done and I went shopping — real life has a way of butting in. But my impression of the performance was similar to Bartleby’s: that it wanted to bring up questions of audience and performance realities, not answer them. And, as I mentioned elsewhere
[…just a minute, my chin is still sticking out, let me…ungh…there…okay….]
audience and performance realities can be seen as parallels or metaphors of other offstage relationships, media/public, government/constituents, etc. (see the “reportage” in the program) although theater’s place in relation to pop concert is perhaps more interesting to the clothed few than the naked multitudes. Representation is everywhere and it doesn’t make you a bad guy to be interested enough in it to engage it as part of your work. I find when things seem dull it is always a good idea for me to attempt to pay even more attention.
[>>>POP!<<< okay, my head’s out again…]
From some of these blogs, it sounds like there’s a little defensiveness creeping in, or we’ve got a sackload of blame and we want to apportion it. For a bad time? Who’s to blame for that? Why do we want a good time? Maybe because of the money we paid (full disclosure: not me, blogging gets you in the door free), the size and scope of the venue, the prestige of the name, etc. Well then, it is up to us to lay the blame where it belongs. Or maybe it’s blame for the artist who didn’t make a fulfilling meal for us. But we know the role of the artist is not to provide what we want, don’t we? Maybe it’s me, and others like me, for being obstinate enough to enjoy the show. Is it for the artist because we feel she has put us in an uncomfortable place, thinking that we are being played for dupes, for suggesting we are simple-minded? Without getting all Freudian, why do we feel that? We know crowds are much more stupid (and dangerous) than the individuals that they consist of. How about an alternative, one in which we make use of our intelligence and our innocence and play along with the game? Not (necessarily) to become sheep and do as we think we are asked, but to experience the performance as it escapes the boundaries of the stage. Engage our feelings of anger, resentment, boredom and guilt — as well as pleasure, generosity, excitement and freedom — trust that there is something to this, and make our efforts to take on what we experience here and now. It is somewhat fatuous to say so, but this blogging is a part of that work, no?
At the risk of being impertinent, we must take responsibility for our own choices. Plants or no plants, sitting through or walking out, innocent or guilty, representation or polar bears, media or live, truth or fakery, dull or interesting. It’s only art, sure. But it’s damn serious about it.
“Painting is not done to decorate apartments,” as Mr Picasso once said. And performance is not done to accompany our dinners.
Comment by Charles Campbell — 1/29/2008 @ 12:06 am
I’m glad the discussion has been so varied.
In hindsight, I really enjoyed Wampler’s piece. Taking it in, I was annoyed, bored, tense (I was moved three times by the house management on Thursday).
I felt very punk’d, play’d, tease’d and generally smeared… like watching the band rehearse… as though I was just there waiting for a ride home (though I rode my bike an could’ve left at anytime).
I was moved to the balcony, so any sense of their being plants was lost on me. I wish I had thrown myself into this one… nothing to be polite about.
I’ve gotten pretty into the blogging thing… check it out… as though this show was important and all things responding to it are upholding its validity (that’s blogging sarcasm).
Comment by Scotty Reynolds — 1/29/2008 @ 12:15 am
I liked it too! I saw a lot of arty-schmarty things I laughingly recognized, and a lot of things I never saw before. (Disclaimer: I ALWAYS love coming into a performance space and seeing a drum set set up [let alone one that will soon have SMOKE pouring out of it :]) I laughed too loudly at a joke with a cool/stupid digital organ sound as a punchline! (Too funny for words!) I liked the Bear, and the bear, and the bass player’s legs, and The Bass Player’s Legs, and the Nice Lady’s Beautiful Red Pants, and the unlimited feeling of confusion and safeness. Hey! What’s not to like? More, more! (i’m the guy who at the end held up the bic lighter I remembered I had in my back pocket that I had found under a seat at the Southern Theater the day before at the awesome IGUAN/Oleg Soulimenko show[some fascinating parallels here, anyone else see both?…)
Comment by will fehlow — 1/29/2008 @ 2:08 am
A lot of the arguments in Mr. Campbell’s post above don’t work for me. I don’t think that the critique of this work is simply “it manipulates the audience.” Rather, I think it is a tread-worn, and not very insightful, version of audience-manipulation that isn’t breaking new ground.
The statement that the piece “wants to raise questions, not provide answers” is a facile move, but doesn’t really do much for me. What questions are raised about representation? What productive and new avenues are opened by the piece via these questions. I don’t think I’m asking for a straight-forward modernist narrative here, but rather looking for the value of the questions. And honestly, I don’t see anything here that takes these questions anywhere interesting or productive.
One last thing: any time you have a piece like this one that is designed to frustrate and doesn’t provide easy answers, there will be a wide variety of audience responses. I think we ought to honor that, rather than engage in the demeaning rhetoric of “obviously you didn’t get it,” and “maybe it’s not _after-dinner entertainment_,” as if critique of the show can only be done from a position of lazy ignorance. That’s just arrogance.
Comment by Aaron Klemz — 1/29/2008 @ 10:17 am
Alboslutely. I find the terms of the argument that Mr Klemz points to much more interesting to talk about than whether we felt manipulated or whether we liked the music. My point is that I didn’t find the piece to be solely about provocation, but to be provocative — among other things. And whether we find the questions raised by the performance interesting is the beginning of a conversation that we can have because the piece dealt with its own mode of representation instead of taking it for granted. Representation was part of the content of this performance, yes (and as such it may indeed be old hat), but it was also part of the subject matter (and this is uncommon and must be taken into account in any critique).
I also find the argument that “a performance raises questions rather than answering them” to be too often plain old cheating. But my point, however poorly expressed, was that the piece was about performance and audience realities in a way that was conscious of them and made the audience conscious of them — and did not (instead) take the conventions as given and leave them unquestioned.
This is, as Mr Klemz suggests, an old approach that maybe we should be more used to at this point. But when I suggested that the performance was meant to “bring up questions,” perhaps I was not specific enough. I do not mean that I could come up with a list of questions Ms Wampler raised. I meant that the subject/issue of audience and performance realities was raised — was part of what the show was “about.” Whether any of us found this interesting is a question that we can ask only because these issues of representation were included in the mix. I felt that this whole audience manipulation technique was a little self-righteous as mentioned above, but I also found it to be a suggestive part of the whole — which to me included “questions” about levels of reality and art/formality that I have been seeing in many places (from Emily Johnson’s Choreographer’s Evening to Oleg Soulimenko at 9×22 and his “New Hypnotism” to Jerome Bel) and that I find interesting.
I am not unhappy to see a variety of answers. Au contraire mon frere. My hope was that my impertinence above suggesting that we must take responsibility for the part we play was not meant to suggest that only appreciation is responsible. That would be cruel and pointless. And stupid. And I make no presumptions of knowing more than anyone else — I am not sure who Mr Klemz is quoting as saying “obviously you didn’t get it”. I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid.
I do hope that with my late-night blather I am able respectfully to suggest that there are other ingredients of the work to take into account. Criticism of theater and performance is so often a repetition in words of what happened on stage and a mere value judgment cloaked in experience and vocabulary. This piece is the first one I’ve seen for a while (and at all so far in this series) that comes from an awareness of its mode of representation. My point is that critique of this show must attempt to take this into account and that not to do so is unfair and inaccurate.
And I stand by my statement that performance is not done to accompany our dinners. Although of course it is, just as painting is also done to decorate apartments. This does not suggest that critique is not possible nor that satisfaction is the only legitimate response. Engaging the performance requires effort on our part. That is something that I have been neglectful of in the past. What I said:
was meant to be inclusive of all responses. But I’m so tired of apartment decoration even if it’s well done that I am happier seeing something that is not apartment decoration even if I feel it failed on some other planes.
Comment by Charles Campbell — 1/29/2008 @ 6:31 pm
I noticed that Claude Wampler did not get the customary, polite standing ovation that is practically de rigeur for any performance in Minnesota, and now a public controversy about art - it looks like MN 2.0 has arrived. I was at the Friday performance and at the Q&A, I was sitting right behind the dancing lady in gold and saw the guy next to her squirm at such outrageous display of what exactly?
I actually did enjoy the show, fucking catchy, but what I enjoyed even more and what I am still enjoying is the discussion and the outrage (is that really real or is it planted?). I like MN 2.0 - there is just one thing that any visiting artist will have to remember:
You can fuck with us as an audience as long as you want, even if we don’t quite understand what all this is about, that’s ok, but don’t you dare fuck with our heartland sensibilities. Simply amazing. Ok, so maybe we are at MN 1.9.98
JM
Comment by John Minn — 1/29/2008 @ 7:12 pm
Which part is the heartland sensibility?
The show I was at did get what might have been the de rigueur standing ovation (complete with stomping, shouting and rhythmic clapping — planted and otherwise), but it was a little different than others that I’ve seen. For one thing the average age of the audience was under the city speed limit.
Comment by Charles Campbell — 1/29/2008 @ 7:48 pm
I took her comment on the NY performance scene and NY and MN audiences being different as just that - they are different, as somebody earlier pointed out, and they react differently to the same stimulus. The defenders of the heartland got their shorts in a knot over that comment.
Comment by John Minn — 1/29/2008 @ 9:15 pm
Wow I have missed a lot here; I blame not having a day job at a computer.
So mostly because of the directness; here’s a response per Lightsey piece by piece:
###################
Mr./Ms. Lynch, why don't you lay off the scorn and speak more directly. If you'll look again at the other comments, you'll see they come from educated art viewers, not philistines.
*******************
I don’t understand why you thought my comments were scornful; they were not written in a negative light at all. I was just trying to investigate and bring up as many simple differences and similarities as I could come up with between the Kitchen and the McGuire performances (without being at the Kitchen).
I don’t think anyone in Minnesota is (or that I am? are you saying?) a philistine or is to be treated as such. However now that you bring the notion up, the piece itself was very simple; even Philistine’ian in form. Aside from the elaborate frame including the technology (the Walker [the McGuire, the front of house staff], the technical objects 10 audio lines, somekind of video playback device, a substantial video projector, all the time in the space that the piece needed) I felt like I was watching MTV, the extras on a DVD, or an internet video segment. Never a performance. And that simple form of ‘prerecorded something’ was only odd, because of the ELABORATE technological and theatrical frame. I am still very surprised at all the hubbub over “what happened” for the simple reason that the event itself was incredibly familiar, usual, and widely accepted faire.
(let us continue)
****************
I take it that part of your point is that the difference in audience and venue affected the performance negatively.
****************
No, again, I never said anything about negativity, you’re wearing arrogance colored glasses.
###################
Okay, I can buy that. The McGuire is not a big theater, but it did feel cavernous for Wampler's piece.
****** I said that the McGuire is much bigger than the Kitchen.
###################
Also, I can see that if everyone had known what to expect, we might have responded to it all differently.
******
Well of course. All I said was that questioning liveness and media culture as live work tends to pop up more in the Kitchen (because they program and conduct workshops on the matter ) more often. The Walker doesn’t conduct larger artist rearing processing; if we’re talking shows that have been here in similar vane, two years ago “Superamas” had a similar vibe, the Big Art Group’s work some years ago as well, and of course who can forget the behemoth of Builders Association/dbox.
####################
But I can't see how this is the fault of the audience. This is a bit like saying the revival would have gone over better if the audience had already been believers.
****
Any revival goes over better if you’re believers, just ask Elvis.
#####
Again, I think you looked my writing as if I was flaming at you all; I was in fact trying to be as un-critical and stilted as possible. Sounds like I failed. I apologize.
Sorry Minnesota; I love you very much (sincerely).
Comment by Mr/Ms Lynch — 1/30/2008 @ 7:09 pm
Additionally, does anyone want to have dinner or coffee over this discussion?
Comment by Mr/Ms Lynch — 1/30/2008 @ 7:13 pm
Did anybody check their email today? I did get a link to a video showing the end of this performance, looks like the “plants” are there as audience, applauding and finally taking a bow. I recognize som eof the faces, certainly the woman with the polar bear head. There are LOTS of them, the question is was there anybody real in the audience?
Comment by John Minn — 2/20/2008 @ 6:03 pm