I see a few people are still dropping by here every day, and I assure you: I still have more to post about the 2006 festival. (OK, so I'm not ready to let go yet... You shoulda seen the looks on people's faces when they saw us organizers meeting yet again @ Hardware last week. "Fools! Don't they know it's OVER?!")
But no posts from me for a while--heading offline for a week, then I'll return with those final thouhts. Don't let my temporary absence stop you from posting some post-fest thoughts of your own in the meantime!
Monday, August 14, 2006
Monday, August 07, 2006
Scene Report: Day 10 (Saturday)
One lesson I learned last year was that if I didn't post reports like this on the blog within about 24 hours, it was practically a lost cause, because I'd forget what I originally felt about a show, and there would also be about 5 more to deal with on top of the previous 5. I knew that this year, but I came home so wiped out most nights toward the end of the second week that I didn't have the energy to write, no matter how excited I was about a given event. Next day I was torn between catching up on the blog or heading out for more shows. Or dealing with festival business of one kind or another, or maybe just trying to sleep as late as possible.
All of which helps to explain why I missed some shows I really wanted to see, like this one I'd heard so much about and this one by a young playwright/director I had wanted to support. So instead, my day began with a search for
The Allentown Telecommunications System,
a street piece that was supposed to happen on Elmwood between Allen and North. I doubt I would have had much luck finding it if I hadn't experienced artist Julie Perini's project from last year in the same spot.
The original premise this time--a tin can phone stretched across Elmwood--sounded really cool, and I was sad to learn that it had fallen through when Perini's collaborator had to leave town. Here's what happened instead:
The compromise was fun but frankly disappointing, especially because it didn't seem like there was much effort to draw people to the project. It was so subtle that I'm guessing few people ever even noticed it. That's a shame, because the general theme--a clever critique of interpersonal communication in the cell phone era--is well worth exploring. Oh, well: maybe next year.
From there I headed to Cafe 59 for the
Spirit Wind performance.
The fairly tiny space filled up quickly, and more and more people kept pouring in. I was especially gratified to see so many kids at this one--not that it was tailored for children, but it was certainly one of the more accessible events of the festival. Part self-contained dance performance and part lecture-demo, it opened my eyes to the deeper themes and metaphors behind the movement vocabularies of tai chi, kung fu, and other martial arts techniques. (It put the "art" in "martial arts," you might say.)
I was expecting something a little more New Age-y, but K G Price's partly improvised keyboard and percussion score was a lot more aggressive than meditative in spots, much to my relief. I kept thinking the performance would have worked really well outdoors, say in Days Park, but one of the performers told me afterward that the group rehearses/performs there every Sunday anyway, and they needed level ground for some of what they wanted to do in this show.
Speaking of Days Park, that lovely spot became my next stop for the evening as I enjoyed the concert by Montreal songwriter/guitarist
Francis Halin
with his bass player (whose name I can no longer remember because I waited so long to post this).
Small turnout, and I wish there'd been at least three times more people. Granted, the brochure description was misleading: this was not a poetry reading, it was a collection of poems by French and Quebecoise writers from the 70s set to music, in addition to several of Halin's own verse. The lyrics were in French, a language few of us spoke, but that didn't matter one bit to me since Halin's guitar playing was so pleasant, his melodies so catchy, and his between-song patter so charming. (Well, I'm focussing on the poppier side of his work; there were also plenty of darker, nearly atonal aspects, too.) He generated a lot of positive word of mouth, and impressed everyone in attendance by giving away copies of a special Buffalo CD sampler from three of his recordings. It was clear he was sharing his music for the sheer love of doing so, and that made the concert all the more enjoyable. Keep an eye and an ear out for him, and hope he returns to town someday soon.
Grabbed a quick meal at Hardware Cafe, then enjoyed a second helping of Pan-o-Matic's combination broadcast/street performance
The Zero Hour.
I had loved this at the Albright-Knox, but felt overwhelmed and overloaded then, and wanted to experience it again.
The first time around, what I had enjoyed most (and wanted to be able to enjoy even more) was the freeform audio collage, but the Rust Belt version was much more interactive, more of a street spectacle. True, my particular group did not actually enter Sweet Tooth and order ice cream in the languages we'd just learned from each other (though other groups evidently did), but we did do the Time Warp to squaredance music, and pretty much everything else our guides instructed us to do. My favorite moment came when an older couple abandoned their initial plan to get sweet treats (in English, I assume) and joined us instead in the wearing of the ridiculous foil hats. Well, the wife joined in while the husband stood patiently by as she lined up at the Rust Belt window, waved her hands to the music, TimeWarped, and everything else. In its combination of a simple concept with multple layers of content, The Zero Hour is surely one of my favorite public art performances in a long, long time.
I had to leave the broadcast in order to prepare for Ronawanda's 10 p.m. appearance.
MC Vendetta
was wrapping up her latest show when I got to the Hardware Cafe just before 10:
The second annual Shakespeare in the Parking Lot (okay, Parking Space)
was next. Scott Kurchak and I emceed again this year, and the audience did the rest, rooting through props and costumes from the trunk of my car (one of two vehicles which doubled as lighting instruments, with some assistance from flashlight-wielding onlookers). We could only go on as long as there were performers willing to spout some Shakespeare, and that meant about 30 minutes this year, much to the disappointment on late arrivals. Some folks used the scripts we provided, others delivered soliloquies they knew by heart, and a couple of folks ventured into the realm of poetry slam, which seemed like a signal that it was time to wrap things up. Judging from audience response, you can pretty much count on this returning next year. Makes a nice tradition for the penultimate night of the festival. (I think we can use a few more participatory events, too, so if you have any ideas in that department, propose 'em in 2007.)
Here's Kim Young as Lady Macbeth:
and here's a nice shot of the crowd:
Special thanks to John Carocci for these two photos, and the many others from SITPL he has posted here. Much nicer than my cell phone pix, wouldn't you say?
Topped off the evening at La Tee Da for Happy Hour, where I reconnected with old friends and made new ones, then slumped home (skipping the band lineup at Merlin's, much as I wanted to check it out) to rest up before Day 11. Watch for a report on that one, soon.
Amount spent on admissions for the day (6 shows total): $14 (I donated an extra large amount to Francis H since I was the guy who talked him out of charging $9)
All of which helps to explain why I missed some shows I really wanted to see, like this one I'd heard so much about and this one by a young playwright/director I had wanted to support. So instead, my day began with a search for
The Allentown Telecommunications System,
a street piece that was supposed to happen on Elmwood between Allen and North. I doubt I would have had much luck finding it if I hadn't experienced artist Julie Perini's project from last year in the same spot.
The original premise this time--a tin can phone stretched across Elmwood--sounded really cool, and I was sad to learn that it had fallen through when Perini's collaborator had to leave town. Here's what happened instead:
The compromise was fun but frankly disappointing, especially because it didn't seem like there was much effort to draw people to the project. It was so subtle that I'm guessing few people ever even noticed it. That's a shame, because the general theme--a clever critique of interpersonal communication in the cell phone era--is well worth exploring. Oh, well: maybe next year.
From there I headed to Cafe 59 for the
Spirit Wind performance.
The fairly tiny space filled up quickly, and more and more people kept pouring in. I was especially gratified to see so many kids at this one--not that it was tailored for children, but it was certainly one of the more accessible events of the festival. Part self-contained dance performance and part lecture-demo, it opened my eyes to the deeper themes and metaphors behind the movement vocabularies of tai chi, kung fu, and other martial arts techniques. (It put the "art" in "martial arts," you might say.)
I was expecting something a little more New Age-y, but K G Price's partly improvised keyboard and percussion score was a lot more aggressive than meditative in spots, much to my relief. I kept thinking the performance would have worked really well outdoors, say in Days Park, but one of the performers told me afterward that the group rehearses/performs there every Sunday anyway, and they needed level ground for some of what they wanted to do in this show.
Speaking of Days Park, that lovely spot became my next stop for the evening as I enjoyed the concert by Montreal songwriter/guitarist
Francis Halin
with his bass player (whose name I can no longer remember because I waited so long to post this).
Small turnout, and I wish there'd been at least three times more people. Granted, the brochure description was misleading: this was not a poetry reading, it was a collection of poems by French and Quebecoise writers from the 70s set to music, in addition to several of Halin's own verse. The lyrics were in French, a language few of us spoke, but that didn't matter one bit to me since Halin's guitar playing was so pleasant, his melodies so catchy, and his between-song patter so charming. (Well, I'm focussing on the poppier side of his work; there were also plenty of darker, nearly atonal aspects, too.) He generated a lot of positive word of mouth, and impressed everyone in attendance by giving away copies of a special Buffalo CD sampler from three of his recordings. It was clear he was sharing his music for the sheer love of doing so, and that made the concert all the more enjoyable. Keep an eye and an ear out for him, and hope he returns to town someday soon.
Grabbed a quick meal at Hardware Cafe, then enjoyed a second helping of Pan-o-Matic's combination broadcast/street performance
The Zero Hour.
I had loved this at the Albright-Knox, but felt overwhelmed and overloaded then, and wanted to experience it again.
The first time around, what I had enjoyed most (and wanted to be able to enjoy even more) was the freeform audio collage, but the Rust Belt version was much more interactive, more of a street spectacle. True, my particular group did not actually enter Sweet Tooth and order ice cream in the languages we'd just learned from each other (though other groups evidently did), but we did do the Time Warp to squaredance music, and pretty much everything else our guides instructed us to do. My favorite moment came when an older couple abandoned their initial plan to get sweet treats (in English, I assume) and joined us instead in the wearing of the ridiculous foil hats. Well, the wife joined in while the husband stood patiently by as she lined up at the Rust Belt window, waved her hands to the music, TimeWarped, and everything else. In its combination of a simple concept with multple layers of content, The Zero Hour is surely one of my favorite public art performances in a long, long time.
I had to leave the broadcast in order to prepare for Ronawanda's 10 p.m. appearance.
MC Vendetta
was wrapping up her latest show when I got to the Hardware Cafe just before 10:
The second annual Shakespeare in the Parking Lot (okay, Parking Space)
was next. Scott Kurchak and I emceed again this year, and the audience did the rest, rooting through props and costumes from the trunk of my car (one of two vehicles which doubled as lighting instruments, with some assistance from flashlight-wielding onlookers). We could only go on as long as there were performers willing to spout some Shakespeare, and that meant about 30 minutes this year, much to the disappointment on late arrivals. Some folks used the scripts we provided, others delivered soliloquies they knew by heart, and a couple of folks ventured into the realm of poetry slam, which seemed like a signal that it was time to wrap things up. Judging from audience response, you can pretty much count on this returning next year. Makes a nice tradition for the penultimate night of the festival. (I think we can use a few more participatory events, too, so if you have any ideas in that department, propose 'em in 2007.)
Here's Kim Young as Lady Macbeth:
and here's a nice shot of the crowd:
Special thanks to John Carocci for these two photos, and the many others from SITPL he has posted here. Much nicer than my cell phone pix, wouldn't you say?
Topped off the evening at La Tee Da for Happy Hour, where I reconnected with old friends and made new ones, then slumped home (skipping the band lineup at Merlin's, much as I wanted to check it out) to rest up before Day 11. Watch for a report on that one, soon.
Amount spent on admissions for the day (6 shows total): $14 (I donated an extra large amount to Francis H since I was the guy who talked him out of charging $9)
Sunday, August 06, 2006
It's over, but it's not over
Just got home from the Closing Night Party at Nietzsche's, and like everybody else in attendance, I'm wiped out. Fear not: I still have two more "Scene Reports" to file, plus a few random observations, and I will do so as soon as I regain consciousness.
But this seems like a nice place to invite you, gentle reader, to share your thoughts on the festival--the highs, the lows, what you loved, what you hated, what you would like to see next year. (A word about that last part: NOTHIN' happens unless someone makes it happen, so you're welcome to say "I want more stuff to see 10 more venues in 2007," but we're going to hope that means you are volunteering to work on the Venue Committee--and we will welcome you with open arms!)
FYI, our wrapup meeting is this coming Wednesday, August 6, at 6 p.m. in the Allen Street Hardware Cafe (245 Allen St.) We'd love it if you showed up in person to share your thoughts, but if you can't make it, post suggestions and feedback here and we will share them with the group.
After the meeting, we'll all take a break for the rest of the year (hallelujah!) and probably reconvene in January to start planning next summer's festival. (Once again, the last week of July and the first week of August.) And we are definitely going to need fresh help to pull it off. Watch the main site for details about future meetings. (If I remember, I'll post 'em here, too, along with minutes of each meeting--if I get that ambitious.)
So stay tuned for some more Ron-posts in a day or two. It's gonna be hard to stop!
But this seems like a nice place to invite you, gentle reader, to share your thoughts on the festival--the highs, the lows, what you loved, what you hated, what you would like to see next year. (A word about that last part: NOTHIN' happens unless someone makes it happen, so you're welcome to say "I want more stuff to see 10 more venues in 2007," but we're going to hope that means you are volunteering to work on the Venue Committee--and we will welcome you with open arms!)
FYI, our wrapup meeting is this coming Wednesday, August 6, at 6 p.m. in the Allen Street Hardware Cafe (245 Allen St.) We'd love it if you showed up in person to share your thoughts, but if you can't make it, post suggestions and feedback here and we will share them with the group.
After the meeting, we'll all take a break for the rest of the year (hallelujah!) and probably reconvene in January to start planning next summer's festival. (Once again, the last week of July and the first week of August.) And we are definitely going to need fresh help to pull it off. Watch the main site for details about future meetings. (If I remember, I'll post 'em here, too, along with minutes of each meeting--if I get that ambitious.)
So stay tuned for some more Ron-posts in a day or two. It's gonna be hard to stop!
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Off the beaten path: Gusto at the Gallery and Rock'n'Bowl
There was a certain small amount of controversy among the Infringement organizers this spring about whether we should take the festival into totally un-fringe-y spaces like the Albright-Knox (which also happens to be quite far from the heart of the action in Allentown). I was all for it, because I want to do everything in my power to help audiences and artists find each other, and I couldn't care less about distinctions like "mainstream" and "alternative." Back in the day (ie, the 60s and early 70s) , some of Buffalo's major cultural organizations (the AKAG, the BPO, Studio Arena) were hotbeds of experimentation and collaboration; it was only when they started to ossify that artists felt a pressing need to start creating grassroots alternatives. Under the directorship of Louis Grachos, the gallery has taken a huuuuuuuge leap forward in recent years, and its "Gusto at the Gallery" series of free Friday events is an unmistakeable sign that the museum is once again embracing not just (truly) contemporary culture but local culture as well.
Judging from Friday's mini-infringement fest, I'd say the gallery was a great fit for the fest after all. The lineup, like the rest of the festival, was an uncurated grab-bag and unfolded in numerous sites around the museum. Sadly, I missed the site-specific production of The Staircase (after missing every one of its performances at Nickel City as well, dammit) and the dance piece by Janet Reed and her company, and I only caught the final moments of Kathleen Foster's poetry-and-visual-art piece, ...And So I Moved to Buffalo:
I did manage to see the strolling madrigal singers the Western New York Chorale performing first in the auditorium and then in the sculpture court:
Anyone who thinks the festival is nothing but a collection of oddball avant-garde bizarreness (not that there's anything wrong with that) might be advised to take note of this community chorus performing music from the pre-medieval era through the 19th century in a fairly straightforward (if informal) way. I had misread the description of their program and expected a full bill of ballads from the early days of sailing on the Great Lakes, but those didn't come along until fairly late in the set. Perhaps because that was what I was expecting, I thought those songs were the strongest part of the performance, and I also thought the show worked much better outdoors than in the auditorium, but I loved the very fact that these men and women were part of Infringement.
Where else could you go from sea shanteys and medieval polyphony to hiphop in the space of an hour? I'd really enjoyed Aaron Piepszny's dancing in the Temporary Dream/Nimbus show the night before, and I wasn't quite sure at first if it was the same guy wowing the crowd in the Lower East Gallery,but it was:
That photo absolutely does not do justice to the power of Piepszny's performance. For one thing, he was constantly in motion, his body a veritable museum of classic breakdance, locking, robot, and other pop culture moves spiced up with the language of contemporary dance. You also don't get to see the impressive audience he gathered--young and old, black and white, (ahem) "mainstream" and "alternative," etc. A delightful festival moment.
As was the segment that followed, in which Annette Daniels Taylor (a Gusto regular by now) and the Flawless Records team offered up their signature blend of spoken word, R&B, gospel, and hiphop.
Throughout all of this, people were strolling all over the gallery wearing the unmistakeable headgear of The Zero Hour:
I'll say more about this incredibly fun mobile radio broadcast in a separate post (since I revisited it the following day in its Allentown digs), but let me just say it was a mind-expanding way to experience the Albright. As a friend and I wandered aimlessly wherever the signal allowed us, we'd bump into other foil-hat-wearing gallery goers, and many bemused newcomers. I talked to another (non-equipped) friend for at least 5 minutes before she caught on that we were listening to something in the headphones beneath the crazy headgear. "Ohhhhhhh," she said when I finally let her listen in. "I thought you just got really high before you came to the gallery and decided to wear foil on your heads."
After we left the museum, we headed even farther away from Allentown, to the Kenmore Lanes for a taste of Rock-n-Bowl 2006:
This WBNY-sponsored event would have gone on with or without the festival (and I doubt there was much crossover in terms of audience), but it looked like folks were having a great time. We couldn't stay long because we had to meet up with still more friends returning from the previous night's Flaming Lips/Death Cab for Cutie show in Cleveland to compare notes. I would have loved to have seen the Cleveland concert, but nothing on earth could have dragged me away from Buffalo this week.
Judging from Friday's mini-infringement fest, I'd say the gallery was a great fit for the fest after all. The lineup, like the rest of the festival, was an uncurated grab-bag and unfolded in numerous sites around the museum. Sadly, I missed the site-specific production of The Staircase (after missing every one of its performances at Nickel City as well, dammit) and the dance piece by Janet Reed and her company, and I only caught the final moments of Kathleen Foster's poetry-and-visual-art piece, ...And So I Moved to Buffalo:
I did manage to see the strolling madrigal singers the Western New York Chorale performing first in the auditorium and then in the sculpture court:
Anyone who thinks the festival is nothing but a collection of oddball avant-garde bizarreness (not that there's anything wrong with that) might be advised to take note of this community chorus performing music from the pre-medieval era through the 19th century in a fairly straightforward (if informal) way. I had misread the description of their program and expected a full bill of ballads from the early days of sailing on the Great Lakes, but those didn't come along until fairly late in the set. Perhaps because that was what I was expecting, I thought those songs were the strongest part of the performance, and I also thought the show worked much better outdoors than in the auditorium, but I loved the very fact that these men and women were part of Infringement.
Where else could you go from sea shanteys and medieval polyphony to hiphop in the space of an hour? I'd really enjoyed Aaron Piepszny's dancing in the Temporary Dream/Nimbus show the night before, and I wasn't quite sure at first if it was the same guy wowing the crowd in the Lower East Gallery,but it was:
That photo absolutely does not do justice to the power of Piepszny's performance. For one thing, he was constantly in motion, his body a veritable museum of classic breakdance, locking, robot, and other pop culture moves spiced up with the language of contemporary dance. You also don't get to see the impressive audience he gathered--young and old, black and white, (ahem) "mainstream" and "alternative," etc. A delightful festival moment.
As was the segment that followed, in which Annette Daniels Taylor (a Gusto regular by now) and the Flawless Records team offered up their signature blend of spoken word, R&B, gospel, and hiphop.
Throughout all of this, people were strolling all over the gallery wearing the unmistakeable headgear of The Zero Hour:
I'll say more about this incredibly fun mobile radio broadcast in a separate post (since I revisited it the following day in its Allentown digs), but let me just say it was a mind-expanding way to experience the Albright. As a friend and I wandered aimlessly wherever the signal allowed us, we'd bump into other foil-hat-wearing gallery goers, and many bemused newcomers. I talked to another (non-equipped) friend for at least 5 minutes before she caught on that we were listening to something in the headphones beneath the crazy headgear. "Ohhhhhhh," she said when I finally let her listen in. "I thought you just got really high before you came to the gallery and decided to wear foil on your heads."
After we left the museum, we headed even farther away from Allentown, to the Kenmore Lanes for a taste of Rock-n-Bowl 2006:
This WBNY-sponsored event would have gone on with or without the festival (and I doubt there was much crossover in terms of audience), but it looked like folks were having a great time. We couldn't stay long because we had to meet up with still more friends returning from the previous night's Flaming Lips/Death Cab for Cutie show in Cleveland to compare notes. I would have loved to have seen the Cleveland concert, but nothing on earth could have dragged me away from Buffalo this week.
Temporary Dream
I caught this show on its second and final night at Gallery 164. (Ah, if only it had had a longer run!) Given how impressed I was by the last event I'd seen in this space by the same folks, Story of a Girl back in April, there was no way I was going to miss this one.
If you ask me, choreographer Beth Elkins and designer/architect Brad Wales of Nimbus Dance have done more for movement/performance in WNY than just about anyone else I can name. Granted, I don't follow local dance that much, mainly because I haven't cared for most of what I've seen--until these folks came along. Their combination of movement, media, live music, and other material feels fresh and exciting. I've seen other artists using many of the same tools in other cities--primary in the East Village in the mid80s and early 90s--but this doesn't seem like a retread, more like a reinvention for a new place and time. Watching Thursday night's show I had the strongest sense yet that Buffalo's live performance scene is in a kind of golden age right now.
This was a perfect coming-together of artists from several media whose individual work I've long admired: media artists Brian Milbrand, Meg Knowles, and Vince Mistrettra, musician/video artist Dave Gracon and his band (they're really the ones called "Temporary Dream," I believe), architect Wales, dancer/choreographer Elkins, and her small but amazing company of performers.
While the evening had a looser structure and theme than Story, it held together beautifully, since all the elements were so strong. I enjoyed it all, but Brian Milbrand's 3-screen projection The Film Robert Longo Should've Made was a particular favorite. Think of it as a remix, in the DJ sense, of Longo's horribly disappointing feature film debut, Johnny Mnemonic. By eliminating the (silly) plot and all the dialogue (thus rendering Keanu Reeves blissfully mute), replacing the original's color with breathtakingly crisp black-and-white, and presenting the whole thing as a triptych with live accompaniment by Gracon and company (sounding very much like early Longo buddy Glenn Branca's group), Milbrand created something that totally lived up to its title:
The final piece of the evening brought everything together: the band played while the dancers did lots of aerial work (on straps hanging from the ceiling, as rigged by Wales); meanwhile Milbrand and Mistretta were hand-manipulating 16mm film (live!) and projecting results on the dancers' bodies:
FYI, the male dancer in these photos is Aaron Piepszny, and I saw his solo piece at the Albright-Knox Friday. If you read this in time, you may still be able to catch his show at College Street Gallery on Sunday night at 7.
Like everyone else in Thursday's show, he's evidence of a wonderful moment in Buffalo's cultural history.
If you ask me, choreographer Beth Elkins and designer/architect Brad Wales of Nimbus Dance have done more for movement/performance in WNY than just about anyone else I can name. Granted, I don't follow local dance that much, mainly because I haven't cared for most of what I've seen--until these folks came along. Their combination of movement, media, live music, and other material feels fresh and exciting. I've seen other artists using many of the same tools in other cities--primary in the East Village in the mid80s and early 90s--but this doesn't seem like a retread, more like a reinvention for a new place and time. Watching Thursday night's show I had the strongest sense yet that Buffalo's live performance scene is in a kind of golden age right now.
This was a perfect coming-together of artists from several media whose individual work I've long admired: media artists Brian Milbrand, Meg Knowles, and Vince Mistrettra, musician/video artist Dave Gracon and his band (they're really the ones called "Temporary Dream," I believe), architect Wales, dancer/choreographer Elkins, and her small but amazing company of performers.
While the evening had a looser structure and theme than Story, it held together beautifully, since all the elements were so strong. I enjoyed it all, but Brian Milbrand's 3-screen projection The Film Robert Longo Should've Made was a particular favorite. Think of it as a remix, in the DJ sense, of Longo's horribly disappointing feature film debut, Johnny Mnemonic. By eliminating the (silly) plot and all the dialogue (thus rendering Keanu Reeves blissfully mute), replacing the original's color with breathtakingly crisp black-and-white, and presenting the whole thing as a triptych with live accompaniment by Gracon and company (sounding very much like early Longo buddy Glenn Branca's group), Milbrand created something that totally lived up to its title:
The final piece of the evening brought everything together: the band played while the dancers did lots of aerial work (on straps hanging from the ceiling, as rigged by Wales); meanwhile Milbrand and Mistretta were hand-manipulating 16mm film (live!) and projecting results on the dancers' bodies:
FYI, the male dancer in these photos is Aaron Piepszny, and I saw his solo piece at the Albright-Knox Friday. If you read this in time, you may still be able to catch his show at College Street Gallery on Sunday night at 7.
Like everyone else in Thursday's show, he's evidence of a wonderful moment in Buffalo's cultural history.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Infringies (aka The IFfys): The do-it-yourself awards
Several audience members have suggested that there by some sort of end-of-festival awards as a way of singling out particular shows and performances from among the 200 or so total. Now, we infringement organizers can be a contentious group, but we pretty unanimously nixed this idea for two reasons, one philosophical and the other logistical:
1. It goes totally counter to the spirit of the festival, encourages competition instead of collaboration, sets up a potentially bad vibe, etc., and
2. It's physically impossible for any one person to see everything in the festival, so there's no way to objectively rank stuff.
So instead of a panel of jurors, we thought it might be fun if EVERYONE felt free to create awards of their own--not just for shows, but for audience members, venues, weather conditions, you name it. Some random examples we've tossed around for awards beyond the usual kind: drunkest audience member, smallest crowd, most creative use of a small budget, etc. But really: use your imagination. Be as serious or as silly as you want. IF we get enough of these before Sunday night's ultra-casual Closing Night Party at Nietzsche's, maybe we'll read 'em out loud. If not, they'll be here for all the world to see until the end of time, or until Blogger goes out of business, whichever comes first.
Post your nominees/winners in the comments section below.
1. It goes totally counter to the spirit of the festival, encourages competition instead of collaboration, sets up a potentially bad vibe, etc., and
2. It's physically impossible for any one person to see everything in the festival, so there's no way to objectively rank stuff.
So instead of a panel of jurors, we thought it might be fun if EVERYONE felt free to create awards of their own--not just for shows, but for audience members, venues, weather conditions, you name it. Some random examples we've tossed around for awards beyond the usual kind: drunkest audience member, smallest crowd, most creative use of a small budget, etc. But really: use your imagination. Be as serious or as silly as you want. IF we get enough of these before Sunday night's ultra-casual Closing Night Party at Nietzsche's, maybe we'll read 'em out loud. If not, they'll be here for all the world to see until the end of time, or until Blogger goes out of business, whichever comes first.
Post your nominees/winners in the comments section below.
Brush up your Shakespeare!
As I write this, SHAKESPEARE IN THE PARKING LOT is mere hours away. This late night event was so much fun last year that we decided to bring it back once more.
This is self-serve Shakespeare--it's up to the audience to make the show, so bring your own props, costumes, and scripts, or use ours. (Hot tip: you can download selected monologues here
and full plays here.)
Of course, you're welcome to just watch, too. Emcees Ronawanda and Auntie Establishment will do their best to make sure a goodly time is had by all.
Saturday, August 5th at 10 PM
in front of
The Allen Street Hardware Store Café
245 Allen Street
It’s FREE!!!
This is self-serve Shakespeare--it's up to the audience to make the show, so bring your own props, costumes, and scripts, or use ours. (Hot tip: you can download selected monologues here
and full plays here.)
Of course, you're welcome to just watch, too. Emcees Ronawanda and Auntie Establishment will do their best to make sure a goodly time is had by all.
Saturday, August 5th at 10 PM
in front of
The Allen Street Hardware Store Café
245 Allen Street
It’s FREE!!!
SOME IMPORTANT FESTIVAL UPDATES
Hey Infringers - Just a quick update to let you all know about a few new cancellations we've had at Day's Park:
S.Vestas, the fire dancers everyone's been talking about, had to cancel all of their remaining The Sky Could Fall shows. They will not be performing anymore this weekend.
Also, Laughing at Clouds is cancelled for Saturday and Congenitalia is cancelled for Sunday.
But there's good news too - Francis Halin will still be performing his remaining shows at the park. I did not see his show on Friday night, but heard from another Infringer that it was incredible - some great music.
There's still plenty more Infringement left too and only two more days to take it all in. Keep checking our festival website and the festival info hotline (408.0488) for all the latest updates.
S.Vestas, the fire dancers everyone's been talking about, had to cancel all of their remaining The Sky Could Fall shows. They will not be performing anymore this weekend.
Also, Laughing at Clouds is cancelled for Saturday and Congenitalia is cancelled for Sunday.
But there's good news too - Francis Halin will still be performing his remaining shows at the park. I did not see his show on Friday night, but heard from another Infringer that it was incredible - some great music.
There's still plenty more Infringement left too and only two more days to take it all in. Keep checking our festival website and the festival info hotline (408.0488) for all the latest updates.
Kinda Sexy
The Sky Could Fall
Overheard at the end of last night's show presented by S.Vestas (the fire dancers):
First guy in a trance-like state, "That was kinda sexy. Women and fire."
Second guy in a trance-like state simply responded, "Yeah."
Perhaps they were so subdued by the fire because that's all they could say before wandering off. But then, who hasn't been drawn in by watching fire in motion at some point in their lives? Staring into a bonfire, letting a match burn down until it almost reaches your fingers, using sparklers to write your name in air...fire can be powerful, scary, relaxing, seductive...it all depends on you.
(A note to parents: Fear not, for as Ron said earlier, the show is still definitely suitable for the young ones. For a more in depth review and an "obligatory crappy cell phone shot" see Ron's post below.)
S.Vestas did indeed hold their mayhem parade from Nickel City down Allen Street right into Day's Park before their show. There were probably around a dozen people (many of them in some sort of costume), but it seemed like more - mostly due to all the noise they were making. It was a happy noise though - my favorite was the five gallon bucket used as a drum. I was in front of Nietzsche's when they went by and everyone outside the bar stopped to feast their eyes on this delightful spectacle. If we're lucky, they'll parade again. You have three more chances to catch this enchanting show.
The fire dancers aren't the only women bringing heat to this year's festival...
Flawless Presents: Words and Music
As part of this Flawless Records performance, Annette Daniels Taylor simply steals the show. Last night at Nietzsche's was the second time I saw her perform as part of Words and Music. I've seen her perform solo twice before (both times in connection with Infringement) and every time I've seen her up on stage she has just blown me away. She has a lot of power in her voice, not just in the way she speaks and sings, but also in what she has to say. She does a beautiful spoken word piece in honor of her Grandma Cilla Mae, who has clearly been a huge influence in her life - that piece alone is worth coming out to see the show. Annette has an incredible stage presence and she knows how to work an audience. Before she was done, several people who were up front (waiting to see another band that was not part of Infringement) came to the back to hear her perform.
Of course, Annette doesn't do all this alone. She has a lot of help from DJ Reazon, JHeat, MODES and Aaron Piepzny. Flawless describes their show as a stylistic collaboration between musical beats and poetic lyricism. All of these performers do have a lot of style - the beats and the lyricism go down smooth. Be good to your ears and take in this show while you still can. Their last performance is tonight during Gusto at the Gallery at Albright Knox.
Saucebox
This group originally formed in 2001 as a forum for young women writers. Eventually they split up and went their separate ways, but two of it's founding members have regrouped with some new women artists. And just in time too...seven of these women are using their talents over the course of Infringement to celebrate and give voice to who they are and women everywhere, past and present.
When I saw this show early on in the festival, the line-up included four of the women. Katherine DuVall, a visual artist, brought several of her pieces to the show that were on display all around the room. It is well worth spending some time checking it out after the performance (the work she brings to the show is all for sale). The other three women were all spoken word artists: MC Vendetta, Kisha Patterson-Tanski and Robin Brox, founder of Saucebox and host for the evening.
If you've never heard MC Vendetta perform, you really should. She warmed up the crowd with a couple of her shorter poems before doing a longer piece from her other show Preserving Our American Way of Life (you can catch that show this Saturday and Sunday). She has a lot to say and does so with great passion, intensity and guts. Her words clearly invoked strong feelings in the audience and reached across the generations too - an older couple came in at the beginning of her Preserving piece and were so absolutely impressed by her words, that they immediately bought a cd and couldn't stop raving about her (even though Robin was already up on stage doing her thing).
Perhaps my favorite thing about this show was that each artist had such a different style. Robin and Kisha each performed in a quieter, calmer fashion. That is not to say they were any less passionate about spoken word or their own performances, they just delivered their words in a subtler way. Some of their poems were still pretty intense, but they also brought a lot of humor to this show.
My only regret is that I cannot see all of their performances. All four of these women appeared again last Sunday along with two new performers, Shayna Raichilson-Zadok and Elizabeth Mariani. While I did not see that show, I did hear something about dueling fiddles (?) from someone who did. I don't know about the specifics on that, but you can find out for yourself. The last Saucebox performance is tonight at Rust Belt Books and will include spoken word by six of the women, including a first appearance by Rebecca Stanievich, and on the night before her wedding no less.
Three More Days...
There are plenty of other shows to see too, but only three days of Infringment remain, so whatever you think you might want to see, just get out and see it while you still can.
Overheard at the end of last night's show presented by S.Vestas (the fire dancers):
First guy in a trance-like state, "That was kinda sexy. Women and fire."
Second guy in a trance-like state simply responded, "Yeah."
Perhaps they were so subdued by the fire because that's all they could say before wandering off. But then, who hasn't been drawn in by watching fire in motion at some point in their lives? Staring into a bonfire, letting a match burn down until it almost reaches your fingers, using sparklers to write your name in air...fire can be powerful, scary, relaxing, seductive...it all depends on you.
(A note to parents: Fear not, for as Ron said earlier, the show is still definitely suitable for the young ones. For a more in depth review and an "obligatory crappy cell phone shot" see Ron's post below.)
S.Vestas did indeed hold their mayhem parade from Nickel City down Allen Street right into Day's Park before their show. There were probably around a dozen people (many of them in some sort of costume), but it seemed like more - mostly due to all the noise they were making. It was a happy noise though - my favorite was the five gallon bucket used as a drum. I was in front of Nietzsche's when they went by and everyone outside the bar stopped to feast their eyes on this delightful spectacle. If we're lucky, they'll parade again. You have three more chances to catch this enchanting show.
The fire dancers aren't the only women bringing heat to this year's festival...
Flawless Presents: Words and Music
As part of this Flawless Records performance, Annette Daniels Taylor simply steals the show. Last night at Nietzsche's was the second time I saw her perform as part of Words and Music. I've seen her perform solo twice before (both times in connection with Infringement) and every time I've seen her up on stage she has just blown me away. She has a lot of power in her voice, not just in the way she speaks and sings, but also in what she has to say. She does a beautiful spoken word piece in honor of her Grandma Cilla Mae, who has clearly been a huge influence in her life - that piece alone is worth coming out to see the show. Annette has an incredible stage presence and she knows how to work an audience. Before she was done, several people who were up front (waiting to see another band that was not part of Infringement) came to the back to hear her perform.
Of course, Annette doesn't do all this alone. She has a lot of help from DJ Reazon, JHeat, MODES and Aaron Piepzny. Flawless describes their show as a stylistic collaboration between musical beats and poetic lyricism. All of these performers do have a lot of style - the beats and the lyricism go down smooth. Be good to your ears and take in this show while you still can. Their last performance is tonight during Gusto at the Gallery at Albright Knox.
Saucebox
This group originally formed in 2001 as a forum for young women writers. Eventually they split up and went their separate ways, but two of it's founding members have regrouped with some new women artists. And just in time too...seven of these women are using their talents over the course of Infringement to celebrate and give voice to who they are and women everywhere, past and present.
When I saw this show early on in the festival, the line-up included four of the women. Katherine DuVall, a visual artist, brought several of her pieces to the show that were on display all around the room. It is well worth spending some time checking it out after the performance (the work she brings to the show is all for sale). The other three women were all spoken word artists: MC Vendetta, Kisha Patterson-Tanski and Robin Brox, founder of Saucebox and host for the evening.
If you've never heard MC Vendetta perform, you really should. She warmed up the crowd with a couple of her shorter poems before doing a longer piece from her other show Preserving Our American Way of Life (you can catch that show this Saturday and Sunday). She has a lot to say and does so with great passion, intensity and guts. Her words clearly invoked strong feelings in the audience and reached across the generations too - an older couple came in at the beginning of her Preserving piece and were so absolutely impressed by her words, that they immediately bought a cd and couldn't stop raving about her (even though Robin was already up on stage doing her thing).
Perhaps my favorite thing about this show was that each artist had such a different style. Robin and Kisha each performed in a quieter, calmer fashion. That is not to say they were any less passionate about spoken word or their own performances, they just delivered their words in a subtler way. Some of their poems were still pretty intense, but they also brought a lot of humor to this show.
My only regret is that I cannot see all of their performances. All four of these women appeared again last Sunday along with two new performers, Shayna Raichilson-Zadok and Elizabeth Mariani. While I did not see that show, I did hear something about dueling fiddles (?) from someone who did. I don't know about the specifics on that, but you can find out for yourself. The last Saucebox performance is tonight at Rust Belt Books and will include spoken word by six of the women, including a first appearance by Rebecca Stanievich, and on the night before her wedding no less.
Three More Days...
There are plenty of other shows to see too, but only three days of Infringment remain, so whatever you think you might want to see, just get out and see it while you still can.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Scene Report: Day 7 (Wednesday)
Queen Kong
Dana Block takes the notion of a one-person show to the limit: not only does she play all the characters, but admission ($5 or pay-what-you-can) is via an unstaffed can, stage lighting is nonexistent, she runs the sound herself, and does a costume change midperformance, beseeching the audience to enjoy the music on the boombox while she's gone and everything else grinds to a halt.
This show is nuts, and I mean that in the best possible way. Take the premise: Leni Reifenstahl (under a slightly different moniker, but how many other 90-year-old German women film directors can you name?) plots a comeback by filming a new version of King Kong starring Ken and Barbie. The usual complications ensue.
I really don't want to give too much away, especially since the whole show is less than half an hour long, but there's just so damn much good stuff here, including the best use of both slam poetry and the Vagina Monologues I've seen. Oh, and here's the Queen herself:
There's something delightful, and also a little off-putting, about the sight of a grown woman playing with dolls and costumes with this much abandon. I thought at various points about Gilda Radner, Andy Kaufman, and especially Pee Wee Herman--but I'm only mentioning those revered names to provide some reference for Block's idiosyncratic craft, in which the toys of childhood are used for thoroughly adult purposes. I had absolutely no idea what to expect when I walked in (probably a far more sedate multi-character comic monologue), and I completely enjoyed the whole bizarre adventure. Leni assured the crowd it was a work in progress, and I'm pretty tempted to return near the end of the run to see where the hell it all ends up. If you appreciate a truly eccentric sense of humor and relish rough edges as much as I do, you'll want to check this out for sure. (The show continues every day through Sunday at Rust Belt.)
Journey to the West
All of us organizer types were astounded when we learned that an artist was planning to come all the way from Taiwan to perform a 15-minute puppet/video piece twice during the festival. Sadly, the live portion of the show was not to be, but the video seems to stand on its own just fine. The short, witty animation/live action segment was fun and just weird enough to leave folks scratching their heads.
Ask Her to Dance
I wanted to be sure to support this new project by two young media artists (Brian James Griffo and Ryan James Detzel) not only because the stills on their site looked cool but because they just seemed so excited about being part of the festival and I didn't want them to be disappointed with a small turnout. Little did I know they'd pack Hallwalls' screening room with very little help from me or anyone else! Their video, a travelogue of their journey to Thailand, was technically quite impressive--a real treat for the eyes (and the ears, since it feels a bit like a music video for a 70-minute mix tape--a really nice mix tape at that). I confess I had my qualms about the content--which was somewhat interesting as an abstract portrait of a foreign country seen through the eyes of American visitors; not so interesting when the two filmmakers were onscreen, at which points it seemed too much like (extremely well-edited) vacation footage. Much of the imagery here was glorious to behold purely on a visual level--I just wish there was more going on beneath the dazzling surface. (Though I admit I ducked out early in time to get to a 9 o'clock show, so maybe I missed something crucial near the end.) The tape will make a killer demo reel should these guys decide to pursue jobs in the industry, and I wish them luck if that's their goal (even if it's not a particularly infringe-y one--but hey, maybe they'll donate a portion of their first million to the festival...). No matter what, they've got a good feel for the possibilities of their chosen medium, and I expect to see great stuff from them in the future.
The Sky Could Fall
Watching this Montreal-based duo breathe, eat, twirl, and dance with fire in Days Park with an audience of 100 other folks was one of those moments I'm going to cherish from this year's festival for a long time to come. I'm having trouble finding words to describe this one, but then why do I need to bother? If that last sentence isn't enough to get you out to the park after the sun goes down between Thursday and Sunday night, then you clearly have no idea what a special opportunity awaits you there:
That's a burning umbrella, in case you can't tell from my obligatory crappy cell phone shot. John Carocci, my colleage in the Real Dream Cabaret, has posted some far better images from tonight's show here, and the group's own site has many more from past performances around the world--but trust me, no photo can capture the experience of fire in motion. FYI, this is one Infringment show you can bring the kids to see with no qualms. (Bonus FYI: The group announced after the show that they are planning a "mayhem parade" from Nickel City Co-Op to Days Park starting at 8 p.m. tomorrow, although that was before they learned the Violent Femmes are at Lafayette Square.)
Happy Hour at La Tee Da
I finally made it to La Tee Da, the festival's nightly post-show hangout. Heard this was hoppin' last Saturday; tonight there were about three tables' worth of folks I recognized as performers and/or organizers, along with a nice jazz combo. Lots of talk of plans for the future, a little festival gossip, tasty bread and hummus, and 2-for-$5 beers. Can't beat that.
Amount spent on admissions for the evening (4 shows total): $8 + the boombox I donated to S. Vestas for the run of their show.
Dana Block takes the notion of a one-person show to the limit: not only does she play all the characters, but admission ($5 or pay-what-you-can) is via an unstaffed can, stage lighting is nonexistent, she runs the sound herself, and does a costume change midperformance, beseeching the audience to enjoy the music on the boombox while she's gone and everything else grinds to a halt.
This show is nuts, and I mean that in the best possible way. Take the premise: Leni Reifenstahl (under a slightly different moniker, but how many other 90-year-old German women film directors can you name?) plots a comeback by filming a new version of King Kong starring Ken and Barbie. The usual complications ensue.
I really don't want to give too much away, especially since the whole show is less than half an hour long, but there's just so damn much good stuff here, including the best use of both slam poetry and the Vagina Monologues I've seen. Oh, and here's the Queen herself:
There's something delightful, and also a little off-putting, about the sight of a grown woman playing with dolls and costumes with this much abandon. I thought at various points about Gilda Radner, Andy Kaufman, and especially Pee Wee Herman--but I'm only mentioning those revered names to provide some reference for Block's idiosyncratic craft, in which the toys of childhood are used for thoroughly adult purposes. I had absolutely no idea what to expect when I walked in (probably a far more sedate multi-character comic monologue), and I completely enjoyed the whole bizarre adventure. Leni assured the crowd it was a work in progress, and I'm pretty tempted to return near the end of the run to see where the hell it all ends up. If you appreciate a truly eccentric sense of humor and relish rough edges as much as I do, you'll want to check this out for sure. (The show continues every day through Sunday at Rust Belt.)
Journey to the West
All of us organizer types were astounded when we learned that an artist was planning to come all the way from Taiwan to perform a 15-minute puppet/video piece twice during the festival. Sadly, the live portion of the show was not to be, but the video seems to stand on its own just fine. The short, witty animation/live action segment was fun and just weird enough to leave folks scratching their heads.
Ask Her to Dance
I wanted to be sure to support this new project by two young media artists (Brian James Griffo and Ryan James Detzel) not only because the stills on their site looked cool but because they just seemed so excited about being part of the festival and I didn't want them to be disappointed with a small turnout. Little did I know they'd pack Hallwalls' screening room with very little help from me or anyone else! Their video, a travelogue of their journey to Thailand, was technically quite impressive--a real treat for the eyes (and the ears, since it feels a bit like a music video for a 70-minute mix tape--a really nice mix tape at that). I confess I had my qualms about the content--which was somewhat interesting as an abstract portrait of a foreign country seen through the eyes of American visitors; not so interesting when the two filmmakers were onscreen, at which points it seemed too much like (extremely well-edited) vacation footage. Much of the imagery here was glorious to behold purely on a visual level--I just wish there was more going on beneath the dazzling surface. (Though I admit I ducked out early in time to get to a 9 o'clock show, so maybe I missed something crucial near the end.) The tape will make a killer demo reel should these guys decide to pursue jobs in the industry, and I wish them luck if that's their goal (even if it's not a particularly infringe-y one--but hey, maybe they'll donate a portion of their first million to the festival...). No matter what, they've got a good feel for the possibilities of their chosen medium, and I expect to see great stuff from them in the future.
The Sky Could Fall
Watching this Montreal-based duo breathe, eat, twirl, and dance with fire in Days Park with an audience of 100 other folks was one of those moments I'm going to cherish from this year's festival for a long time to come. I'm having trouble finding words to describe this one, but then why do I need to bother? If that last sentence isn't enough to get you out to the park after the sun goes down between Thursday and Sunday night, then you clearly have no idea what a special opportunity awaits you there:
That's a burning umbrella, in case you can't tell from my obligatory crappy cell phone shot. John Carocci, my colleage in the Real Dream Cabaret, has posted some far better images from tonight's show here, and the group's own site has many more from past performances around the world--but trust me, no photo can capture the experience of fire in motion. FYI, this is one Infringment show you can bring the kids to see with no qualms. (Bonus FYI: The group announced after the show that they are planning a "mayhem parade" from Nickel City Co-Op to Days Park starting at 8 p.m. tomorrow, although that was before they learned the Violent Femmes are at Lafayette Square.)
Happy Hour at La Tee Da
I finally made it to La Tee Da, the festival's nightly post-show hangout. Heard this was hoppin' last Saturday; tonight there were about three tables' worth of folks I recognized as performers and/or organizers, along with a nice jazz combo. Lots of talk of plans for the future, a little festival gossip, tasty bread and hummus, and 2-for-$5 beers. Can't beat that.
Amount spent on admissions for the evening (4 shows total): $8 + the boombox I donated to S. Vestas for the run of their show.
Sincerity Forever
Here's a little beef of mine: David Mamet gets all this attention for being some great master of dialogue, when in fact there are plenty of other contemporary playwrights out there doing pretty amazing things with language, and not in nearly so formulaic a fashion. Take Mac Wellman, whose 1990 play Sincerity Forever makes something entirely fresh out of one of Mamet's favorite devices: endless repetition of simple phrases (many of them commonly considered obscene). Most of the characters in this brief (under an hour) show are ostensibly smalltown Klansmen, but they behave like horny high school students while simultaneously addressing the Big Questions of existence itself. (Spoiler: the answers to those questions involve potty-mouthed furballs.) "Life is so mystical sometimes," one of them says during one of many moments that seems straight out of an updated remake of Our Town (albeit an NC-17 remake).
Wellman has been a highly regarded writer for the stage for a couple of decades now, but as far as I know the Subversive Theatre's is probably the first local production of one of his plays. And it's a doozy, staged under the stars on a set that consists of a vintage Mustang convertible, behind Quaker Bonnet on Allen St.:
There's no place I would rather have been on the hottest night of the year than watching this show, revelling in Wellman's often-hilarious flights of fancy as delivered by a wonderful ensemble cast.
On the night I went, director (and festival poobah) Kurt Schneiderman introduced the play by mentioning its origins in the heyday of the NEA culture wars at the start of the 1990s, but don't get the wrong idea: this is by no means a period piece. You don't really need to know anything about its historical context to appreciate the message; in fact, in these days of rampant religious fundamentalism on multiple fronts, I'd say it feels more relevant than ever.
(An added bonus, if you want to call it that, to Tuesday night's performance came from a particularly noisy voice during the masterful final scene that I first assumed belonged to a cast member--particularly since the voice was spewing the same wild and nonsensical profanity as the characters in the show. Turns out this interruption was not in the script, but the cast incorporated it so briliantly that my head started to spin. Infringement, like those furballs, is a force beyond anyone's control, it appears.)
Three more chances to catch this one as of now; click here for details.
Wellman has been a highly regarded writer for the stage for a couple of decades now, but as far as I know the Subversive Theatre's is probably the first local production of one of his plays. And it's a doozy, staged under the stars on a set that consists of a vintage Mustang convertible, behind Quaker Bonnet on Allen St.:
There's no place I would rather have been on the hottest night of the year than watching this show, revelling in Wellman's often-hilarious flights of fancy as delivered by a wonderful ensemble cast.
On the night I went, director (and festival poobah) Kurt Schneiderman introduced the play by mentioning its origins in the heyday of the NEA culture wars at the start of the 1990s, but don't get the wrong idea: this is by no means a period piece. You don't really need to know anything about its historical context to appreciate the message; in fact, in these days of rampant religious fundamentalism on multiple fronts, I'd say it feels more relevant than ever.
(An added bonus, if you want to call it that, to Tuesday night's performance came from a particularly noisy voice during the masterful final scene that I first assumed belonged to a cast member--particularly since the voice was spewing the same wild and nonsensical profanity as the characters in the show. Turns out this interruption was not in the script, but the cast incorporated it so briliantly that my head started to spin. Infringement, like those furballs, is a force beyond anyone's control, it appears.)
Three more chances to catch this one as of now; click here for details.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Rants 'n' Raves
My last few multi-artist reviews took up a lot of room, so here's another of those periodic spaces where you can post reviews of your own. Have at it! (And if you want to file "scene reports" of your own, feel free to email them to me and I'll gladly post 'em for you. The more voices, the merrier around here.)
Scene Report: Day 5 (Monday)
Caught two shows back to back at Nietzsche's last night, and it's hard to imagine two more different events in the same room (both of them well worth my time):
Locust Sympathizer
I missed the first half of this show, but I got the basic idea pretty fast: dark ambient industrial sounds, most of them produced by Ben Hockenberry adjusting a table full of knobs and plugs. Samples of The Decider in Chief uttering fragmentary phrases like "America must reward..." and "Justice is distorted..."
If all that sounds familiar and/or off-putting, be aware that Hockenberry's approach to the genre also incorporates traditional American folk instruments like a banjo, washtub, and jug, which tells me he's up to a lot more than just making noise. (He had an accomplice, but the other guy was mostly hidden behind the aforementioned table, squatting on the ground.)
It's dark music for dark times. Given that folks on the other side of the world are busily blowing each other up while our little festival rages on, it feels perfectly right for this particular moment in history. You've got one more chance to catch this, Thursday, August 3rd, from 8:30-9:00 p.m. (That show is a shared bill with Praying For Oblivion.)
Ramona and Juliet
At the opposite end of the spectrum in every way was this fast, funny, four-person feminist re-envisioning of Romeo and Juliet. I happened to catch the opening night not only of the play, but of the new company presenting it, Brazen-Faced Varlets, and I am completely convinced that both are going to cause a sensation in this town. The room was full (on a Monday night, no less), and people loved the show. DC-based playwright Shawn Northrip (a boy writing quite skillfully about girl stuff, ladies and gentlemen) ditches 98% of Shakespeare's dialogue but retains the essential plot of R&J (based on my super-fuzzy memory of it)--only now the central battle is not between two families or even the Sharks and the Jets, but between queers and homophobes. The laughs are broad (and raunchy) as all get-out, but they are relentless, and every single cast member in the quartet--Heather Fangsrud, Lara Haberberger, Kelly Beuth, and Katie White--does a beautiful job delivering them. (Beuth and White must play a dozen characters between them.) Nietzsche's is not the most lavish setting in town for live theater, which makes their collective accomplishment all the more impressive. (Here's hoping they make a cameo appearance during this year's Shakespeare in the Parking Lot this Saturday, hint hint.)
I've been missing Hag Theatre since they evaporated a couple of years ago, and the arrival of BFV is an extremely encouraging sign for the future of lesbian and/or feminist theater in Buffalo. Welcome, welcome!
There are three more performances of Ramona during the festival--tonight through Thursday night--and I have a feeling you'd better arrive early, because something tells me this one's gonna be packed.
Amount spent on admissions for the evening (2 shows total): $5
Locust Sympathizer
I missed the first half of this show, but I got the basic idea pretty fast: dark ambient industrial sounds, most of them produced by Ben Hockenberry adjusting a table full of knobs and plugs. Samples of The Decider in Chief uttering fragmentary phrases like "America must reward..." and "Justice is distorted..."
If all that sounds familiar and/or off-putting, be aware that Hockenberry's approach to the genre also incorporates traditional American folk instruments like a banjo, washtub, and jug, which tells me he's up to a lot more than just making noise. (He had an accomplice, but the other guy was mostly hidden behind the aforementioned table, squatting on the ground.)
It's dark music for dark times. Given that folks on the other side of the world are busily blowing each other up while our little festival rages on, it feels perfectly right for this particular moment in history. You've got one more chance to catch this, Thursday, August 3rd, from 8:30-9:00 p.m. (That show is a shared bill with Praying For Oblivion.)
Ramona and Juliet
At the opposite end of the spectrum in every way was this fast, funny, four-person feminist re-envisioning of Romeo and Juliet. I happened to catch the opening night not only of the play, but of the new company presenting it, Brazen-Faced Varlets, and I am completely convinced that both are going to cause a sensation in this town. The room was full (on a Monday night, no less), and people loved the show. DC-based playwright Shawn Northrip (a boy writing quite skillfully about girl stuff, ladies and gentlemen) ditches 98% of Shakespeare's dialogue but retains the essential plot of R&J (based on my super-fuzzy memory of it)--only now the central battle is not between two families or even the Sharks and the Jets, but between queers and homophobes. The laughs are broad (and raunchy) as all get-out, but they are relentless, and every single cast member in the quartet--Heather Fangsrud, Lara Haberberger, Kelly Beuth, and Katie White--does a beautiful job delivering them. (Beuth and White must play a dozen characters between them.) Nietzsche's is not the most lavish setting in town for live theater, which makes their collective accomplishment all the more impressive. (Here's hoping they make a cameo appearance during this year's Shakespeare in the Parking Lot this Saturday, hint hint.)
I've been missing Hag Theatre since they evaporated a couple of years ago, and the arrival of BFV is an extremely encouraging sign for the future of lesbian and/or feminist theater in Buffalo. Welcome, welcome!
There are three more performances of Ramona during the festival--tonight through Thursday night--and I have a feeling you'd better arrive early, because something tells me this one's gonna be packed.
Amount spent on admissions for the evening (2 shows total): $5
Scene Report: Day 4 (Sunday), Part Two
Handclaps and Cowbells: A Klezmer Dance Party
I was so tired by the time the sun was setting Sunday night that I almost didn't go to Soundlab, but I'm mighty glad I did, because this Paul Kozlowski-curated evening was a high point of the festival for me so far. The space was used brilliantly, starting with a shadow play (masterminded by an artist whose name I didn't catch) featuring a huge cast of puppeteers and musicians in one nook of the room:
Then came The Baby Machines on the main stage for some relatively straightforward, very catchy indie rock featuing a strong lead vocalist (who later cameoed during one of Paul's numbers):
Next up was Gaybot from Rochester. Sheer insanity. I described it to one latecomer as the look and sound of a human brain melting. I forget how many people were in the band, and it was hard to tell because throughout the night there were so many people running around in bizarre costumes that you were never quite sure who was "in" what. Safest to say we were all a part of everything, although only a few of us came wearing feathers, rubber nipple-y outfits, or other festive attire. I do know for sure that Gaybot included one cheerleader, one guitarist playing heavy metal cock-rock solos that were always being interrupted by other band members, and one guy who stood completely still on the edge of the stage like those guys that used to accompany Public Enemy--at least until he burst into maniacal dancing for about thirty seconds, then stopped. Instruments were bashed, PA-system speakers were whirled around, and general mayhem ruled. The word "Gaybot" appeared often during their lyrics. I thought of Negativland a little. And I was glad no one got hurt.
After that, Paul K (and his partner whose name I never know) got the whole room dancing to his virtuoso flamenco guitar playing, and without losing a beat, the 12/8 Path Band took over. I am normally not the biggest fan of the 12/8 and was a little skeptical about how they'd go over at Soundlab, but I'll be damned if they didn't rock the house. Their blend of New Orleans brass band and Latin and African rhythms was so much fun, and such a huge crowd hit, that I'm pretty sure almost everyone in attendance will be remembering that night for a long time to come. I turned to a friend of mine at the bar and said, "When is the rest of the world finally going to catch on to what an amazing hotbed Buffalo's art/music scene is?"
I had intended to leave many hours earlier, but I was having such a great time I couldn't get out the door. By the time Dimetrodon played (the band I had originally come to see!), it was getting late, so I figured I could catch a few numbers and then depart. I know 'em, I love 'em, but I had to get some sleep sooner or later.
Thanks to all the musicians, to masterful Paul K, to Curt Rotterdam and Kyle Price, and to Craig Reynolds and everyone at Soundlab for a wonderful night.
Amount spent on admissions for the day (4 shows total): $6
I was so tired by the time the sun was setting Sunday night that I almost didn't go to Soundlab, but I'm mighty glad I did, because this Paul Kozlowski-curated evening was a high point of the festival for me so far. The space was used brilliantly, starting with a shadow play (masterminded by an artist whose name I didn't catch) featuring a huge cast of puppeteers and musicians in one nook of the room:
Then came The Baby Machines on the main stage for some relatively straightforward, very catchy indie rock featuing a strong lead vocalist (who later cameoed during one of Paul's numbers):
Next up was Gaybot from Rochester. Sheer insanity. I described it to one latecomer as the look and sound of a human brain melting. I forget how many people were in the band, and it was hard to tell because throughout the night there were so many people running around in bizarre costumes that you were never quite sure who was "in" what. Safest to say we were all a part of everything, although only a few of us came wearing feathers, rubber nipple-y outfits, or other festive attire. I do know for sure that Gaybot included one cheerleader, one guitarist playing heavy metal cock-rock solos that were always being interrupted by other band members, and one guy who stood completely still on the edge of the stage like those guys that used to accompany Public Enemy--at least until he burst into maniacal dancing for about thirty seconds, then stopped. Instruments were bashed, PA-system speakers were whirled around, and general mayhem ruled. The word "Gaybot" appeared often during their lyrics. I thought of Negativland a little. And I was glad no one got hurt.
After that, Paul K (and his partner whose name I never know) got the whole room dancing to his virtuoso flamenco guitar playing, and without losing a beat, the 12/8 Path Band took over. I am normally not the biggest fan of the 12/8 and was a little skeptical about how they'd go over at Soundlab, but I'll be damned if they didn't rock the house. Their blend of New Orleans brass band and Latin and African rhythms was so much fun, and such a huge crowd hit, that I'm pretty sure almost everyone in attendance will be remembering that night for a long time to come. I turned to a friend of mine at the bar and said, "When is the rest of the world finally going to catch on to what an amazing hotbed Buffalo's art/music scene is?"
I had intended to leave many hours earlier, but I was having such a great time I couldn't get out the door. By the time Dimetrodon played (the band I had originally come to see!), it was getting late, so I figured I could catch a few numbers and then depart. I know 'em, I love 'em, but I had to get some sleep sooner or later.
Thanks to all the musicians, to masterful Paul K, to Curt Rotterdam and Kyle Price, and to Craig Reynolds and everyone at Soundlab for a wonderful night.
Amount spent on admissions for the day (4 shows total): $6
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