Instant Narrative by Dora García, presented by the University of Michigan Museum of Art

This week I checked out the Instant Narrative exhibition at the museum of art. Instant Narrative, an exhibition by Dora García, turns the museum audience into the exhibition. A blank white screen faces a large open space. People gather to stare at the wall, wondering what this piece is all about. That is when words begin to appear on the screen. At first, people may be under the impression the timing is pre-planned—that is, until they discover the typing is about them. This is the beauty of the exhibit—it’s never the same thing twice, a spontaneous work of art always-already in the making, completely dependent on an audience, completely independent of any external inspiration.

The typist will be one of a handful of students hired by the UMMA. This only adds to the multiplicity of voices participating in the art. I was so interested in how the exhibit worked that I visited a total of 3 times to make sure I was around for different audience sizes and different student writers. The composition of the audience certainly affects what gets written on-screen, but the student writer’s voice is equally important. Some students are highly descriptive of the spectator’s clothing or mannerisms, while others ponder the stories behind the audience members. One student writer even expressed relief that a couple audience members had shown up at all on a particularly slow day.

By my third time visiting the museum, I started feeling a little adventurous. Realizing I was as much an author of the exhibit as García, the museum, or the student writer, I decided to give the current student writer something interesting to write about. So I broke out into a spontaneous dance in the middle of the floor. I got as weird as I possibly could. I start waving my arms around, doing fist pumps, spinning in a circle. I’m sure if I did this at the MOMA I would’ve been kicked out in a second. I actually did seem to upset the security guard standing in the room a little bit—but more on that later. The writer described my strange actions, describing my actions with creative adjectives, even expressing excitement to see an audience member attempt to interact with the exhibit directly.

This brings me to my one fault with Instant Narrative. Although I understand the need for security in a museum full of priceless art, I believe the presence of security guards surrounding Instant Narrative greatly alters the effect of the exhibition, perhaps in a way the artist did not intend (although I do not know much about García’s work so it would not be fair for me to say this). I felt the purpose of the exhibition was that if we look at our lives the right way, everything we do is awe-inspiring, everything we do is a work of art. Instant Narrative is supposed to work because the audience members do not realize they’re being watched at first. I felt watched all 3 times, however, not by the typist, but by the guards. Particularly on my last visit, I felt unwanted, I felt perceived as a threat, and I feel this places problematic limits on the scope of what Instant Narrative can communicate. Now I understand this is a society and we can’t all act like animals, but at the same time I feel like Instant Narrative should open up a space for the audience to get creative, and I think more could be done to make the exhibit feel natural rather than controlled. So go check it out, see if I’m wrong, if I’m crazy, or maybe if I’m even on to something. Only one way to find out.

PREVIEW: Romeo and Juliet

 

WHO: The Department of Musical Theatre

WHAT: William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet

WHERE: Arthur Miller Theatre

WHEN: February 20-23

COST: $10 for students

Shakespeare’s most famous tragedy tells the story of Romeo and Juliet, a couple of young star-crossed lovers from feuding families. As they try to be together, a series of unfortunate events and misunderstandings ultimately lead to their deaths.

PREVIEW: Hay Fever

 

 

WHO: The Department of Theatre and Drama

WHAT: Hay Fever a comedy by Noël Coward

WHERE: Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre

WHEN: February 20-23

COST: $10 for students

Set in the English countryside, the play focuses on the eclectic Bliss Family. Unbeknownst to the others, each member of the family invites a romantic interest to spend the weekend. As things take a turn for the outlandish, the guests become caught in the middle and must decide if they are willing to stay. Described as a cross between high farce and a comedy of manners, Hay Fever is sure to be entertaining.

 

REVIEW: Graham Colton at the Ark

If you have never been to the Ark before, the best word to describe it is intimate. Upon entering you are guided upstairs by the sound of indie music, to a room that you would almost expect to be used for art house movie screenings than concerts.

As Cumulus singer Alex Niedzialkowski (even Graham Colton didn’t dare attempt to pronounce that last name) put it, the Ark was like a “classroom.” Cushioned chairs filled the back while coffee tables adorned the front—in other words, not the proper conditions for standing and jumping to the beat.

It is a rare treat to attend a concert where the opening band is as good as the headliner. Cumulus, a band from Seattle, was one of those cases. Indie-pop at its best, Cumulus combined meaningful and heartfelt lyrics with the kind of bittersweet melodies you would find in films like 500 Days of Summer.

Alex’s voice is slightly reminiscent of Regina Spektor: her words have the same enchanting feeling that would make me love the music even if she was only singing the alphabet. Luckily, that wasn’t the case.

Most important of all, Cumulus had a memorable character. As an emcee, Alex was exactly the kind of endearingly awkward you might expect from an indie artist who writes deep lyrics. Unlike many bands that simply play through their set and leave, Cumulus spoke to the audience, added emotion to their playing, and overall proved to be a fantastic opening band.

After a brief intermission, in which I purchased Cumulus’ album despite mistakenly listing the wrong zip code for my credit card and had to start the process all over again, Graham Colton took the stage.

Graham is the kind of artist comfortable to be on stage. He makes comments freely, such as telling the audience they helped themselves to a bottle of celebratory alcohol before the show, or the fact that he repeated his name in case anyone “stumbled in from outside.”

Every song rocked with energy. Between songs Graham encouraged the audience to stand, and by the end of the concert most of the room was indeed standing. It was hard not to: Graham spent his time dancing or jumping on the stage, snarky comments by the bassist made everyone chuckle, and a fellow singer-songwriter in the band that was probably equally as talented as Graham.

Songs from Lonely Ones certainly had a more aggressive, electric sound. Taking 18 months off to reinvent himself seemed to work. Yet, even his earlier stuff was as good as it has always been.

Check out Graham Colton. Check out Cumulus. And if you have never been to the Ark before, do it!
Graham Colton

Graham Colton

REVIEW: The Steel Wheels

When it comes to the performing arts I am very particular about what I like and what I don’t like. My parents joke that music school has ruined music for me because I am hypercritical of every performance; noting errors in pitch, technique and strange stylistic choices for discussion during intermission and following the show. Often, I am the last person to stand during a standing ovation (conveniently started by the performers family), grumbling to the person next to me about how the performance was good but did not deserve a standing ovation.

Given my critical tendencies when attending performances, I attempted to lower my expectations for Friday’s performance by the Steel Wheels at The Ark. Though my companion for the evening does not share my critical ear and eye, they have a deep appreciation for the music and for the sake of the evening I resolved to internalize any negative impressions, saving them for this review.

The doors to the Ark opened at 7:30 for the sold out 8 pm concert, and though it was well below freezing when we got into line at 7:15, the line stretched down Main Street and wrapped around the corner. Though the show was General Admission and there were easily 100 people ahead of us in line we were able to snag two seats in the second row near where the bassist would stand.

From the moment that The Steel Wheels took the stage the audience, which consisted of patrons as varied as two elementary schoolers a row ahead of us to a gentleman who had needed help with his hearing aid before the start of the show, was enraptured. The show, which lasted 2 hours consisting of 2 sets interrupted by a 15 minute intermission and followed by a 3 song encore, resulted in 3 immediate standing ovations and a final applause lasting almost five minutes after the performers had left the stage (not an exaggeration, I timed it).

The performance that The Steel Wheels gave was deserving of such a response. The energy which was exuded from the stage infected the audience and the music which they played sounded identical to their CDs with amplification and use of reverb as the only technological aids.

Clearly evident to the audience was the supreme musicianship of all the performers on the stage and the fierce friendships which they had developed with each other because of the music. Trent Wagler’s vocals held the group together and served as the primary communicator with the audience, standing center behind the only microphone while singing and walking around the edges of the stage, making eye contact with members of the audience while playing his guitar as other instruments soloed. Jay Lapp played 3 instruments throughout the night bring a new color and technique with each instrument change. On the mandolin, he proved to be a formidable musician and interacted well with the audience, especially when providing vocal harmonies. Eric Brubaker on fiddle and Brian Dickel on Bass appeared lost in the music, physically behind Wagler and Lapp, often with eyes closed with little interaction with the audience.

Overall, this performance was one of the most flawless that I have ever seen. Technically, each member of The Steel Wheels is a master of their instrument(s) leaving no room for critique. As a group, the performers engaged the audience while clearly enveloped in the music. My only complaint lies with their programming of the evening. The beginning of the second set started off slowly, playing three lesser known songs with slower tempos, resulting in a sluggish feel to the first half of the set. Additionally, during the encore Wagler lightly played the opening chords from “Lay Down Lay Low” as the group discussed which songs to play. Since “Lay Down Lay Low” is my favorite song of their I was needlessly disappointed when it was not included in the encore.

For those of you have yet to attend a show at the Ark I would strongly recommend the experience. Since Jay Lapp’s family resides in Ann Arbor, it is likely that The Steel Wheels will be returning to the Ark in the future. When, and if, that is the case I was most definitely be in the audience looking forward to another wonderful night of superbly played music.

 

Pataphysical Explorations to Disrupt Reality in the Most Unproductive Ways: An UMMA Dialogue with Christian Bok, David Doris, and Stephen Rush

Pataphysical Explorations to Disrupt Reality in the Most Unproductive Ways: An UMMA Dialogue with Christian Bok, David Doris, and Stephen Rush

Last week the Museum of Art held one of the weirdest series of performances and dialogues I’ve seen in my life. Presented by experimental poet Christian Bok (University of Calgary), art historian David Doris (UM), and music performance professor Stephen Rush (UM), the event challenged the audience to reconsider their preconceived definition of art, philosophy, and what ought to be presented in a museum in the first place.

The event featured a poetry reading and dance, a lecture on the art of turd polishing (which is exactly what it sounds like), and a talk on avant garde musical performance. I will focus on the poem recitation/interpretive dance.

I expected something a little off-kilter—pataphysics is a philosophical precursor to Dadaism, an attempt to create “imaginary solutions” to explain physical pheonomenon in the world.

But I still wasn’t prepared to see an interpretive dance performed by a group of students while Bok read Green Eggs and Ham aloud. Bok spoke aloud with energy and enthusiasm, accenting words at odd times such as to break the rhythm of the meter. He broke from his recitation at points to ask the dancers questions, and as they all yelled their answers in cacophonous unison, he told them to “shut up!”. The dancers themselves lay on the ground, performing independently and entirely uncoordinated.

The performance felt spontaneous, unrehearsed, and highly chaotic. Nevertheless, it was an excellent demonstration of Bok’s philosophical premise: the notion that the universe is chaotic and beyond human understanding. He explained his philosophy through the lens of multiple disciplines, primarily quantum physics, Hinduism, and Dadaism—a strange, perhaps even contradictory set of disciplines.

Quantum physics and Dadaism cohere in that quantum physics suggests a level of unpredictability and incoherence intrinsic to life and the universe. According to Bok, humanity’s scientific understanding of the universe is still so limited that we have trouble even randomizing models for planetary movement.

Hence, our everyday life is full of unwanted unexpected events. Bok’s pataphysical response to the accidents or randomness of life is colored by the Hindu philosophy of mindfulness—living in the moment, seeing the unexpected as an opportunity rather than a problem.

Keeping this in mind helps made some sense of Bok’s nonsensical performance. Artistic performances are intended to be creative acts. Yet most performances are rehearsed, binding originality and individual expression in a very specific structure. This pataphysics-inspired performance give the performers the freedom to be unique and individual with their every movement—Bok’s breaks from the Seuss poem allow him to imprint a personal touch on a classic text.

Bok’s performance also forces the audience to re-learn how to watch an exhibition in the first place. Rehearsed performances not only limit how an artist can express themselves, they also force a set of conventions on how to appreciate art on the audience. When we’re confronted with a strange, avant-garde performance unlike anything we’ve ever seen, we don’t know how to react, how to understand what is going on. Instead of feeling confused or uncomfortable, perhaps we should go with the flow, appreciate that we’re doing something new.