Scene report: Day nine

I cannot tell a lie: after a long workweek, finding the weather unexpectedly pleasant, I came very close to sitting out one of the biggest nights of the festival--and knew I would regret it if I did. Still, I made time to listen to this 1985 interview with the late Merce Cunningham and this one with John Cage from the same year on Fresh Air while working on a fresh batch of Self-Infringement instructions. It's pretty safe to say there would be no Infringement without these two fearless pioneers of Art Under the Radar, and I wish there was some way to salute them during the festival. So: "saaaaaaa-LUTE!," as they used to say on Hee-Haw.

After a quick stop at Rust Belt, I paid a quick return visit to Mrs. Squandertime, who was back in action after taking a night or two of rest. I see she has company in the window of 224 Allen now, too, in the form of a witty computer installation called eyeMacs (by another of my WoyUbu colleagues--represent, y'all!):



One window over is another cool-looking digital project whose name escapes me, but I'm told it's the work of 224's owner. There's an interactive component, and if I remember, I'll add more details about that here later:



I got to the Albright-Knox just in time to miss all of the Infringement festivities in Gusto at the Gallery, but I heard good reports from many people about the poetry and the dance. I did manage to make my way through the museum's two current exhibitions, one devoted to (allegedly) "subversive" work in the permanent collection and the other a lovely tribute to Ed Ruscha, another of those precursors who gave everybody else permission to do weird stuff in the name of Art. Walking around the upstairs galleries gave me a nice opportunity to think about how "subversive" work bubbles up from spaces like most of the other venues in BIF into mainstream cultural institutions like the AKAG about 20-30 years later, or doesn't, and how sometimes lately that process is sped up by a couple of decades. Some subversion gets forgotten after a good night's sleep, and some ends up accompanied by a child-friendly wall text in a major American museum. My tour of the show also gave me yet another chance to marvel at just how much money Matthew Barney makes for his often gorgeous, always completely hermetic jibberjabber. Plus, he gets to date Bjork!

While I saw no actual BIF work at the Albright, I consider the costumes of Euphraxia and Red Moon to be art objects in themselves, not so far off from Barney's elaborate getups. The dancers looked astounding in the bright lights just outside the museum's entrance. Because I am not David Lynch, I lack the ability to take a photo of them that captures the surreal glory of the moment:



Headed from the AKAG to Days Park for the first of three performances this weekend by Pyromance. I shot video of their fire dance, but haven't yet figured out how to upload it, so you'll just have to get to the park Saturday or Sunday to see them in action. (They promise a new show every night, so go early and often.) While waiting for them to set up, I ran down to La Tee Da to catch another snippet of Pho Malpica, which is shaping up to be the word-of-mouth hit of BIF09. I escorted the newly arrived cast of Car Stories to it, and then crossed paths with them again later during the aptly named Yet Another Cool Showcase at Nietzsche's. I was very happy that I got to catch ROJOMOJO's set: straightforward blues, an excellent country-flavored original (something about the grass being bluer on my side--I don't remember the chorus, but it was a damned catchy song), and covers of Marvin Gaye and James Taylor, all performed without a shred of rockstar pretense. Anybody who thinks Infringement is nothing but bizarre, out-there oddness (not that there's anything wrong with that!) is missing the fuller picture: it's a celebration of homegrown creativity in all its manifestations, from Cunningham-influenced weirdness to feel-good party music.

To coin a phrase, it's all good.

Scene report: Day four

Garden Walk and personal commitments kept me from doing much on the Infringement side Sunday. I only had time to make a brief appearance at ...

•A sound check/rehearsal/hangout session by Grammar School, a supercool noise/punk band whose members look to be about 10-12 years old apiece, outside Lagniappe's. If Sonic Youth had a Saturday morning cartoon where they were depicted as pre-teens, they would surely look something like this:



I especially enjoyed the look and attitude of the Mini Kim Gordon. I heard no actual music but would in no way be surprised if they end up dominating avant-rock in the 2010s. They were apparently next in line to perform at

•the College Street Block Party, which is always a good time. When I was there, I saw the Global Village Idiots



and watched kids making a glorious mess with paint (much to ringleader Klinger's delight).



•I ducked into Nietzsche's for Mimi Loco, only I missed her entire set. Said hello. Seemed nice enough. Drove here from DC just for Infringement.

•Final stop of the day was the Yard for Zombie Fest. I've driven by the big graffiti'ed text reading "The Yard" on the side of an industrial building off the Thruway (where Niagara splits off with Tonawanda St.) for at least a year now and wondered what it was. And now I know: yet another archetypal DIY Buffalo venue! You pull up to the back of a warehouse, sit on i-beams (which carry the music directly through your body, via your ass!), and marvel at Bflo's Rust Belt legacy. THIS PLACE WAS MADE FOR METAL! If Penelope Spheeris ever directs another installment of her ongoing Decline of Western Civilization doc series, she should film concerts here:



Me, I'm not that much of a metalhead, but I enjoyed the three songs I saw from the Phoenix Resistance (which included one by Alice in Chains and one by GNR, neither of which was one of those ironic indie covers I was just going on about) as much as I possibly could. Mainly I enjoyed the only patch of truly great weather of the weekend. I was in the right spot at the right time, along with about six other audience members, only one of whom could accurately be described as zombie-clad.

Scene Report: Day three

Saturday was one of those days that makes WNY such a special place to live; in addition to Infringement, I spent some time on the outskirts of both the Canal Fest (still probably my fave of all the area's many small-town summer festivals) and Garden Walk. Between those two and Infringement alone, there must have been at least 400 things to see and do yesterday, even with the crappy weather, so at this point in my life, I'm pretty much convinced that anyone who claims Buffalo is boring is too stupid/boring to waste my time on. If you don't get what's remarkable about the place you live, don't bitch to me about it! So here--on my way out of the house and back into GardenFringementLand for another day, is a quick recap of just the Infringey things on my itinerary yesterday:

First up was Nobody's Estro-Acoustic Showcase and Potluck, where my husband and I saw most of Lara Buckley's set and the first three songs from Erin Sydney Welsh before the ticking clock sent us to our next few non-festival stops. I know Buckley mainly from her always-memorable guest appearances with the Real Dream Cabaret, but this was my first chance to experience a fuller set (and from the audience instead of backstage), and I loved what I saw and heard. In this incarnation, she was performing songs that reminded me of Phil Ochs's material in the way that her lyrics invest topical subject matter with heartfelt ultra-personal meaning--only with a voice far more acrobatic than Ochs's, and accompanied by loops of nature sounds. The terms "freak folk" and "psych-folk" get bandied about a lot these past few years, but they seem to really fit Buckley's work almost literally. Undercutting the acoustic prettiness of the music is the sense that the singer (or at least her songwriting persona) is a woman on the edge. Highly recommended. So is Welsh--at the tender age of 13, she's got the confidence and stage savvy of a far more experienced performer. If you've ever wondered what it must have felt like to catch Ani DiFranco as an unknown teenager in a Buffalo bar, this may be the closest you'll ever come:



I often assume music scheduler Curt Rotterdam's titles for showcases are tongue-in-cheek, but this really was a potluck, and the pulled pork was particularly yummy. This was my first time to Nobody's, and the venue encapsulates much of what thrills me, as well as much that annoys me, about Buffalo's ongoing DIY art scene--it's clearly a labor of genuine love, absolutely in line with a rich tradition of artist-run live/work spaces in this town, deliberately beneath the radar but radiating a passion for art. At the same it's not exactly what I would call inviting to a first-time visitor: intimidating entrance, pitch-black interior, no ventilation (until I stumbled upon an ancient air conditioner in the back), almost no seating, and just plain dirty in that punk-rock way that gets a little old as one reaches a certain age. I was originally planning to head back after midnight for Nobody's Electronic Showcase" but the thought of hanging out with total strangers in total darkness in somebody's (er, nobody's) living room made me opt for my own home instead. I'm sure if I was in a different mood, or 20 years younger, or both, I would have gone back, and probably loved the show. (Call me bourgeois, but I've got my own Autechre albums to listen to, and A/C to boot!)

After a few detours, it was off to an opening at the WNY Book Arts Center. 'Twas my first time there after reading and hearing a lot about the place, and it's safe to say I was blown away by the joint: street-level gallery and gift shop, incredible collection of (working!) vintage printing equipment in the basement, future home of Just Buffalo on the second floor. There is a lot I want to say about this place and my maiden voyage to it, but in the interest of time I will vow to post those remarks elsewhere, later. Just go check it out, pronto--and tell 'em Infringement sent ya.



We headed next to Gateway Gallery (yet another first visit--does Buffalo know how to crank out new spaces, or what?) for Walri but they were still setting up when we got there, so we braved the rain for a quick bite at Sample (this was exactly the kind of situation Sample was born to address!) and then caught a good chunk of Phó Malpica: The Last White Elephant in the alley next to La Tee Da. This butoh-influenced site-specific dance/audio/video piece is the first example I've seen this year of the kind of work that suits Infringement best. Sure, it could be performed at any time in any location, but it fits its impromptu venue like a teeny-tiny glove and uses the festival setting to generate critical mass. Being a bit of a butoh-phobe myself, my favorite thing about the performance is the way it creates an audience for itself, and then inadvertently makes them part of the spectacle. Every time someone walked out of LTD or simply headed down Allen, they came across an oddly configured clump of onlookers staring at ... something, but what? How could you resist the temptation to investigate for yourself, in the process discovering a delicate, moving piece with both aesthetic and (subtle) eco-political impact? Don't miss this one.




We nearly missed all of Walri's set as a result, returning to Gateway just in time to hear the Rochester-based band play "Ziggy Stardust." Taken out of context, it was hard to tell at first whether this was that indie-rock staple, the Ironic Classic Rock Cover, or we'd stumbled upon a Monroe County cover band. (Spoiler: it was option A.) There were only two songs after that, and I loved 'em both enough to buy a CD on the spot and to mark my calendar for their next BIF show, this Wednesday.

Scene Report: Day one!

Given how little of last year's festival I got to see and write about, I vowed to start early this time around. Didn't see or do a lot tonight, but I'm glad I forced myself out into the rain and onto Allen Street.

*Stopped at Rust Belt to deliver the Self-Infringement box which Brian Milbrand and I have filled with a fresh batch of audience instructions/scripts. (On my laptop I still had most of Brian's contributions from last year, so I started by creating "remixes" of all of them--tweaking his ideas in subtle or drastic ways--and then came up with some wholly new ideas.)

*While at Rust Belt I ran into several people who had headed to Lafayette Square for the Neko Case/Jason Lytle show that got rained out. I felt perversely relieved about this, because it was the first show I've really wanted to see at TATS in at least 3 years, but the weather scared me off, and I was feeling guilty about wimping out. Come back again soon, Neko!

*Quick bite to eat, which gave me time to start studying the beautiful job that Artvoice did with the thankless task of laying out the complete festival schedule. This is the first year I didn't end up proofreading that beast, which may add to my joy and surprise at its final form.

*Next up, a stop at Nietzsche's for the annual kickoff party, which was a chance to catch up with a lot of the current organizers. (Here's a badly lit photo of one of them, Josh Smith, involved in some sort of Mad Libs activity with the emcee between sets:)




Since I am not really among their numbers anymore, I can say without any hint of back-patting that these organizer dudes and dudettes look like they're doing a phenomenal job with an undertaking that keeps growing exponentially; I was truly impressed at how smoothly the party seemed to be going. I walked in on the middle of a lengthy instrumental by Rochester's X-Planet Id, a jammy jazz-fusion-y trio:



Not normally my cup of tea, but I soon found myself really liking them and ready to recommend them to a friend who really goes in for rock/jazz hybrids. I wasn't as fond of the vocal numbers that followed, but they seemed like an ideal First Festival Act for moi. (They were not the first act to play, mind you--that honor went to Pat O'Keefe, whom I've only seen in action during the annual "Samples @ Sample" press preview. I gotta catch a set of his this year!) I wanted to stay longer but had bill-paying work waiting at home, plus I felt like I needed to start mapping out my weekend, pronto. Forgive me, MC Vendetta, for missing what I have no doubt was yet another stellar performance of yours. (There were lots of other acts, too, and for all I know, one of them is still playing at this very minute, but I have an appointment with a mattress and pillow now.)

*On my way back to my car, I noticed that the video projection screen filling the window of Space 224 was now active. (Full disclosure: I thought it was incredibly beautiful earlier in the evening, when it was showing nothing but bright blue light, which I originally assumed was the piece, and I was perfectly happy with that.) Took me a few seconds to realize that what I was seeing was not a slideshow but video, and then to marvel at the elegance of the (slowly changing) image, and then to read the accompanying text (highly recommended if you want to get what's going on), and finally to realize that the creators of this work are none other than my friends and collaborators Dave Pape and Josephine Anstey. The installation is called Mrs. Squandertime--love the title, love the premise, and I look forward to visiting the window at 224 Allen many more times during the festival to see what Mrs. S is up to next.



Speaking of squandering time, it's looking like I will be attending little if any of the festival on Day Two, so I am counting on you, dear reader, to fill me in on what I missed.