I went to the Wilkinson Gallery last night to see an intermedia performance by artists Anna Parkina. Need to check out what other people are doing in my interdiscipline.
At any rate, I wasn't in love with the performance, but it was worthwhile to put a couple of things in perspective about my own practice.
The performance involved a video projection, a cello player, some ambient crowd/commuter train sound, and Parkina doing what can only be described as "interpretive dance" in the most gaudy and stereotypical sense. (please note that I'm not saying this to be catty, judging from the playfulness of her other work that I glimpsed, she'd probably agree.) The video was a mirror image of itself where figures would pop out of the seem between the two images and make an interesting shape. There were times when either her live body or her shadow (or both) were beautifully complementing the form that the recorded mirror bodies were creating. I felt that could have been the whole piece right there.
I saw in her performance, that while she clearly has done work in video before, she's still struggling with the big challenge of working across disciplines: you get kinda overwhelmed with all the cool stuff that's at your fingertips and it's really really hard to edit it down into a cohesive whole. And even when you think you have, it's still too much.
The question this raises, which I think I'm trying to address is: Is it interesting to watch the chaos of too many parts not working together for those rare glimpses when it does come together? I clearly think that the answer is yes for my own work, but am I that patient with other people's work? Mmmmm. not really.
This is really telling! I'm glad that I'm proud of my work and want to embrace the quirks and uncomfortable moments and I do love work that takes the quiet little pops and fizzles that are all around us and make something beautiful out of it. I guess maybe the difference is that I don't always feel that's what other artists are trying to do with their work, that they are trying to present a polished piece when they haven't yet harnessed all the nuances of the different media they're trying to throw together into one piece. It's really a tall order. Maybe I'd like it better if I thought it was really trying to embrace the chaos?
The performance also confirmed for me that it's important that people that come to my show are able to come and go as they please. I felt soooo trapped at this performance last night and I wanted to act out, which is very unlike me. I think it's because I'm so close to this type of work right now with the final show only a month away. I don't care that not everyone wants to stick around my work for a long time, I certainly stay with some pieces longer than others. However, I've also had people note both during my scratch performances and the Nunnery show that they wanted to sit with the piece for a while. I'm happy to have people come to my work on their own terms and not put a finite time limit on something that seems to want to continue to evolve longer than a 20-45 minutes time slot.
Showing posts with label performances. Show all posts
Showing posts with label performances. Show all posts
Wednesday, 30 July 2008
Monday, 22 October 2007
Phillip Glass: Music in 12 Parts performance
Summary from Barbican website:
Music in 12 Parts, a four-hour music marathon composed for the Philip Glass Ensemble, is both a massive theoretical exercise and a deeply engrossing work of art.
The score is the culmination of Glass' explorations and theories on repetition, and is considered to be a seminal composition that defined minimalistic music in the 20th Century.
Another trip to the Barbican without a ticket. This time I ended up in the 4th row ust off the edge of Glass' keyboard. I had a prime vantage point to witness the human side of Glass' work. I've seen a bunch of his pieces performed live, but at 4 hours, I think a major component of the performance of Music in 12 parts is the durational experience of all participants.
It was amazing to witness Glass lose his formality and get swept deeper and deeper into the rhythms and texture. And to watch all of the performers ride the waves of intense concentration, exhaustion, elation, confusion. Mind you, every performer was an extremely accomplished musician and/or composer in their own right, so the talent was impressive to watch in their commitment and competence.
What I found most interesting is the choice to perform everything live. Glass' music is often seen as being almost inhuman in its mechanical repetition and insistent rhythms. However, there were points last night where the musicians simply couldn't go on and for the first time I saw another side to Glass' compositions - the test of just how far you can remain in a precise regimen before the human needs to break the cycle (usually for breath!) The breaks, occasionally getting lost in the score, etc. were as much a part of the performance at the end. I haven't read about Glass at all, so I don't know if this is anything he's interested in. In this age of looping and pre-recorded playback in concerts, I'd be very surprised by his choice to do this all live if he didn't want those hiccups to appear. Will research this a little bit.
I was reminded about how much I think that Glass' music is like a physical object, rather than just sound. There is so much weight and mass to parts of it.
There are tons of people who will happily sit and listen to this really "high brow" music for 4 hours. Lots of folks even brought picnics for the interval! I needed this reaffirmation because I think I'm mostly interested in the potential of the black box and want to explore abstract performance. I feel like alot of the attitude towards this kind of performance has come from not having a chance to experience it or find a point of access to it. <-- something I need to find back up for aside from personal experience Having all that time in the dark listening to the slow movements of the piece, I had loads of time to come up with some ideas that I want to try try out in performance. I'm finding that most of the ideas that pop into my head these days are more about physical composition - set elements, fabric or costume, sound. It's exciting, but also intimidating because it's going into areas that I will have to seek loads of technical advice on. And on a totally humorous and random note: There were some guys taking a photo together and blocking the aisle at the start of the main interval. I was right behind them when the photo was being snapped, so I made a face at the camera. My partner then told me that one of the guys was Leonard Cohen. I ruined someone's fan "buddy photo" with Leonard Cohen! Heh.
Music in 12 Parts, a four-hour music marathon composed for the Philip Glass Ensemble, is both a massive theoretical exercise and a deeply engrossing work of art.
The score is the culmination of Glass' explorations and theories on repetition, and is considered to be a seminal composition that defined minimalistic music in the 20th Century.
Another trip to the Barbican without a ticket. This time I ended up in the 4th row ust off the edge of Glass' keyboard. I had a prime vantage point to witness the human side of Glass' work. I've seen a bunch of his pieces performed live, but at 4 hours, I think a major component of the performance of Music in 12 parts is the durational experience of all participants.
It was amazing to witness Glass lose his formality and get swept deeper and deeper into the rhythms and texture. And to watch all of the performers ride the waves of intense concentration, exhaustion, elation, confusion. Mind you, every performer was an extremely accomplished musician and/or composer in their own right, so the talent was impressive to watch in their commitment and competence.
What I found most interesting is the choice to perform everything live. Glass' music is often seen as being almost inhuman in its mechanical repetition and insistent rhythms. However, there were points last night where the musicians simply couldn't go on and for the first time I saw another side to Glass' compositions - the test of just how far you can remain in a precise regimen before the human needs to break the cycle (usually for breath!) The breaks, occasionally getting lost in the score, etc. were as much a part of the performance at the end. I haven't read about Glass at all, so I don't know if this is anything he's interested in. In this age of looping and pre-recorded playback in concerts, I'd be very surprised by his choice to do this all live if he didn't want those hiccups to appear. Will research this a little bit.
I was reminded about how much I think that Glass' music is like a physical object, rather than just sound. There is so much weight and mass to parts of it.
There are tons of people who will happily sit and listen to this really "high brow" music for 4 hours. Lots of folks even brought picnics for the interval! I needed this reaffirmation because I think I'm mostly interested in the potential of the black box and want to explore abstract performance. I feel like alot of the attitude towards this kind of performance has come from not having a chance to experience it or find a point of access to it. <-- something I need to find back up for aside from personal experience Having all that time in the dark listening to the slow movements of the piece, I had loads of time to come up with some ideas that I want to try try out in performance. I'm finding that most of the ideas that pop into my head these days are more about physical composition - set elements, fabric or costume, sound. It's exciting, but also intimidating because it's going into areas that I will have to seek loads of technical advice on. And on a totally humorous and random note: There were some guys taking a photo together and blocking the aisle at the start of the main interval. I was right behind them when the photo was being snapped, so I made a face at the camera. My partner then told me that one of the guys was Leonard Cohen. I ruined someone's fan "buddy photo" with Leonard Cohen! Heh.
Labels:
artists,
audience,
duration,
objects,
performances,
Philip Glass,
sound
Wednesday, 3 October 2007
TaDA!
It's been a long day.
My brain is full and my belly is empty.
1) Complicite's A Disappearing Number at the Barbican
- Video as character/performer vs. video as backdrop/set/environment
- the human form placed in both these contexts too
- How to transition from one phrase/scene to the next? Does it have to be clear?
- How much information is too much? Too little?
- What level of control do I want to have on the final piece?
2) Action Theater workshop at movingartsbase - Class One
My brain is full and my belly is empty.
1) Complicite's A Disappearing Number at the Barbican
- interesting use of layers - set, bodies, video projections
- seamless and thoughtful use of technology held together by a talented group of performers
- some small pieces that were neat, but didn't fit in with the larger movement and themes of the piece and felt gimicky (like the table viewed from above)
- so much stylised choreography that didn't seem jarring
- a full house! at a large venue! matinee! for a very non-traditional production! does it have to do with location? reputation? amazing.
- there was something for everyone, high brow and low brow, visual or textual. there were probably points for everyone where they were really engaged and points where they were annoyed. and those points were different for everyone. as it should be.
- rehearsal style challenging. not knowing what a piece will be until it is up and running and changing even then. interesting at first, but still a technique that once mastered might mean moving past (from actor)
- Video as character/performer vs. video as backdrop/set/environment
- the human form placed in both these contexts too
- How to transition from one phrase/scene to the next? Does it have to be clear?
- How much information is too much? Too little?
- What level of control do I want to have on the final piece?
2) Action Theater workshop at movingartsbase - Class One
- establishing partnership & group dynamics
- allowing us to notice what our tendencies are movement wise (to mimic) when we are playing it safe and trying to establish a new relationship with a group
- doing this without much direction
- the instructor pointedly asked us "What did you like about that one?" after each performance. There was no negative criticism. Also was assisting us in clarifying what it was about the performance that made us feel it was funny, dramatic, etc. Body? Face?
- eye contact between performers charges the space. I found each sketch compelling, even when the movement was simple or unskilled, simply from the connection between the two people on stage.
Labels:
action theater,
companies,
complicite,
performances,
workshops
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