Thursday, March 23, 2006

There's 4 in Every Crowd

So, I've had a fairly bad day/week and realize most of the way through my day that I need to find something to do with my evening besides practicing. What does one do? Go to a show, of course. I decided to find one off the beaten path. I'm pretty sure that there's a reason no one is beating a path to this show, though.

So, I hit a show whose advertisements had a vaguely performance art kind of feel. Hey, whatever....I like seeing people scream and look creepy. I frequently do both.

Instead, I got a throwback show. The first piece was nothing more than a trombonist doing free improv with himself on recording, from the previous two nights. I guess he's going to keep layering this for several nights until even he doesn't really care. I'm not sure if he's been out of the house recently, but I've heard this before. Just because a Mac was invented doesn't mean that layered recordings are new. I fidgeted for about 30 minutes through the same tired licks. Granted, there were a couple of nice moments, but they were far outweighed by too many busy glissandi.

The second guy did a few versions of a W speech from January. Amusing...4 variations...Charades, N+7 (a substitution variation for all of the nouns in the text), reactive facial expressions (silent and short...but still lame), and a subtractive phoneme scheme.

The 3rd man read his diary...He actually played some audio of a rainstorm with it. I thought that I was narcisistic with this blog, but he's a winner on that front. At least no one thinks you're rude if you get up and walk away from your computer.

The last was the most perf. arty of them all. A man just doing stuff: Cutting a 2X4 with 4 different cutting implements. I was actually worried at one point whether he was going to lose control of the box cutter and send it into my frontal lobe. I wasn't sure whether or not I'd object. He also spent time rolling around on the floor as well as throwing wet paper towels at objects he placed on a wall. We were all rooting for him to hit the damned targets as we knew this thing would go on until he did.

The audience was appropriately tiny. So small, in fact, that I'm positive that I'll be identified should one stumble onto this blog. Thank god I didn't sign up for the mailing list or give anyone my name. Of course, from the diary reading, apparently one of them lives not far from me. Perhaps I'll have to carry some form of a mace now. (No, not the pepper spray stuff...But an actual mace...with spikes.)

The moral of the story? Practice more, spend less time with random shows. Next time I'll either ask a friend for a recommendation or just STAY IN. Watching NCAA basketball would have been preferable, I'm sure.


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