I actually dont know if this makes any sense. But this night is really about putting yourself out there. You might have to listen to a Radiohead song to get what is read.
I started writing lines in the dark (literally), but couldn’t finish. This night has no cadence. You’re just left waiting...for one more night.
Wanting that New York night paying homage to the “avant-garde.” Wanting the Lower East Side's leading edge.
It’s too convenient to say it one way.
If “my” narrative structure reminds you of Peter De Giglio’s Satanovision this night, you’re right.
Who’d have thought of repeated video takes – asking different questions, putting things in a new light.
* * *
"Good Artists Borrow, Great Artists Steal,” Picasso once said.
(what's worth stealing)
* * *
Some people pretend, some people define what people pretend.
(this could mean so many things)
Be who you are, just don't pretend to be.
* * *
If you want an edge, Penny’s Open Mic will cure you of what you can’t say.
* * *
You don’t know the beauty of the English language until you see Penny’s Open Mic where “some of the city’s inventive minds” gather every Tuesday (New York Magazine).
* * *
You won’t sit still. Sara G Y'All navigates the entire room like a holy spirit (with an unholy edge).
***
When I was a speechwriter, we had a rule of thumb: people stop paying attention after 6 minutes. Penny’s Open Mic somehow nails the 7th minute. And you can't go past it.
* * *
Social media has narrowed our attention span – but is social networking * reading *
“What I post online, it’s just in HTML, it’s not even in the air,” I told Penny.
(Live In New York City)
* * *
At Penny’s Open Mic, there is an inspired shift with each 7-minute act.
You are suspended for 7 which then adds up to 5 hours of 7. No show in New York City suspends disbelief this long. And this has added up to many years of 7.
* * *
New York Minute:
“Johnny Carson once said, it's the interval between a Manhattan traffic light turning green and the guy behind you honking his horn.”
* * *
It's not easy to put out a show 5 hours long in New York in a stellar way that elevates one's imagination of what is good.
* * *
When you're trying to create something new - art or invention - you ultimately have to do a lot of weird things en route... i.e. not "normal."
* * *
People can’t remember many things - maybe not even one thing.
When I see a cupcake – I can’t help but think of Joe Yoga. Why did he want us to remember only one thing – that cupcake truck people in the elevator talked about.
Avant-garde, he said, once meant “front line.” But today, it’s been watered down to mean novelty…when you say something for an audience of one, yourself.
* * *
Killy Dwyer is dada with a melody. Her performance is like the dance of coming together, falling apart and coming together (not knowing if the falling apart comes next). She expresses every inch of a feeling – without even thinking.
* * *
The best performers connect like mind-readers.
It’s Killy Dwyer’s birthday night. I wonder if anyone read her mind--that she'd land her face in the cake. I think she performs without thinking. Flawlessly.
* * *
Dancer, how can one tell the dancer from the dance ? Stolen from William Butler Yeats.
Tonight I saw an inspired dance by Lucile 'Frak' Graciano from Alter Ego. How do you steal that?
* * *
Long after our birthday, we start to think too much, and our movements become restricted.
* * *
I think I am living the dream before I sleep – in a city that never sleeps.
There are two parts in life: what lasts forever, what leaves us next day.
(there's a lot staying with me this night)
***
The last time I saw Sara G Y'All she dressed like a cat. But there’s no mistaking who she is – in or out of a cat suit. She has signature movements and word delivery. Killy Dwyer (re: unpredictable but you can see her a mile away) was the first person in New York City to make Sara G Y’All feel “normal.”
* * *
Sara G Y'All wanted to read something special she wrote for Killy. But she brought the wrong papers. What she has describes every interval at the gynecologist’s office.
Clarity or tonic
* * *
Subhah Agarwal, barely old enough to be in a bar, started this night deadpanning like a young edgy Sarah Silverman. A comic’s delivery is key to words said. Many comics can write, but can’t deliver. It’s the difference between on or off. Off-color or in color.
Subhah's a surprising talent. I think she was standing in front of me at Caffe Vivaldi the night before.
* * *
Mike Milazzo played Penny’s Open Mic anthem with unharnessed strumming and ebuillent blood – 3rd year in a row now.
He normally doesn’t follow the theme of the night – but would following be avant-garde? Tonight, he masterfully played tampon slide guitar (sponsored by Killy Dwyer) after he asked the crowd to throw things at him to play with his guitar. His cell phone solo was elaborative. Who knew such sounds existed?
* * *
When poetic spirits arrive in one room - there's nothing else like it.
Back from a Bowery Ballroom poetry slam, Tim Shea pondered how easy it was to answer the question what do you do professionally ("make cheese steaks") versus what do you do artistically (something "ambiguous").
He also pondered people rapping in iPod earplugs oblivious to subway riders. “Balls to the Wall.” He pondered if you could do this with poetry and recited Plath and other off-putting poets. “Balls to the Wall.”
* * *
I don’t know why I was thinking of this – do you ever notice zombies are devoid of human weakness?
Humans have no weaknesses it seems mostly when either art shows you the human you want to be or you’re a zombie.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ejga4kJUts
***
There’s something endearing about Monster – who discussed the banal nature of work. He never got work as a concept. Or why people can get so upset over someone arriving at 9:15am instead of 9am.
If you think about it…humans have invented a lot of weird ways that other animals don’t do. Like why pay for food?
* * *
Everybody Loves Darth Vader practically whispered, forcing us to listen hard.
He brought alive some obscure literary work of emotional turmoil.
You gotta love the variety of this night. It’s like a complete album.
* * *
While Justin Hillman was on stage, I was inspired to write: “Most people can’t handle the truth, that’s why we write status reports.”
When someone inspires me to think, I start my own train of thought, forget names and forget what was said.
* * *
A man in the crowd asked why one speaker didn’t like political material. He answered eloquently how disingenuous politics can be. “Did people care about Egypt before?" Will they after/
* * *
A man started to read the side effects of various prescribed drugs. At least, I think they are prescribed.
***
Often i wake up wondering what people fit into the same dream - what people are real to a dream.
(who gets to be in the dream)
***
In college, we had a masthead for our paper that associated your name with the most random moment. You had to be there to get it. That’s code for only we know.
***
Emleigh Wolf broke the 7-minute timer. Or was that Dan Mahoney who had already left a long time ago.
There was a copy of his face left behind on a mirror handle which Emleigh (and later Penny) wore. Handle with care.
Emleigh also wore Penny’s wardrobe. Sara G Y'All dressed in similar stripes too. I couldn’t remember where I’d seen that look. Then someone finally said it. It was just a matter of time: Dr. Seuss.
* * *
Dan Mahoney likes to dream, but not follow through. That’s how he sings his words. He delivers the opposite of lift off - a virtuoso of denouement. It is language that travels where you don’t think it will go.
* * *
Jaqi Furback sketched what Cosmopolitan Magazine denies. The world where most of the world lives –
* * *
Champagne Pam had some truisms about dogs. How they just trust people, but sometimes people fake throwing a dog a bone just coz they can.
* * *
Mike Doherty was invited past 7 minutes, a dancer next, still warming up. He sung a 3rd song like Warren McGoey in Toronto. You might not know Warren. But there’s always somebody you don’t know and one day you never know.
* * *
There’s a guy whose name I can’t spell that starts with an A (maybe 3 syllables) – I think he was crafty playing with words. That’s the thing with the arts…there’s a pressure to change your name so you can be remembered. Just be thankful your name isn’t Michael Jackson.
* * *
In the arts, there’s a pressure comparing someone to something known. Familiarity is both a friend and foe of an artist. Some people can only remember one thing. It’s how I think the pigeon hole got invented.
Jason White sung like Jim Morrison. Gabe Patino sung like Kurt Cobain. Not even sure I am getting the story right. I mean how do you really write about someone accurately? No journalist truly knows.
* * *
In the arts, there might also be a desire or pressure (shades of grey) to do something different. Brave Elephant sung cool tunes with unplugged vocals and guitars plugged in. Blair Frowner blew an avant-garde horn solo.
* * *
Lex Wily rapped live for the first time – and pulled it off. He found his groove and settled in. The first time is the thing for an Artist. Gotta get to that first time. Whatever that first means.
* * *
What lasts forever is timeless…living long past 7 minutes. Tonight I saw some performers for the second time in 16 months. I recalled moments from 16 months ago. And suddenly I see what they've become 16 months later. The day to day is skipped.
Bricken Sparacino delivered a story about a snow day. Her NY-bound plane was canceled so she could see a baby delivered late in LA.
16 months ago, if memory serves me, she eloquently delivered a story about estrangement during a night of Risk.
Two stories 16 months apart (farther apart than contractions she spoke of tonight): of estrangement then birth. This is how she’ll be remembered until I see her next. It boils down to what happened at this intersection.
* * *
There’s a bit of déjà vu this night. Andrea Ramolo texted me from her Times Square Manhattan Hotel room about the Bowery Ballroom while Tim Shea on stage talked about it. Brooke Macgowan sung Lucinda Williams' Greenville with a ukulele which Andrea Ramolo also sung with a guitar.
* * *
The night can’t be complete without a little satirical self-promotion. An independent film director fabricated a story to promote a fabricated story. When you can't make it up, it's unbelievable.
http://www.tellyourfriendsmovie.com/
The best journalism is non-fiction written like fiction. I stole that from either Hunter S. Thompson or Tom Wolfe.
Liam McEneany spent 2 years writing on Comedy Central and showed us a trailer now with 12,000+ views:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Oi5xA21SPk
What are the odds? I had seen it already via @Twitter.
* * *
Rebecca Seatle waited all night to sing. A beautiful voice that still can be heard.
http://rebeccaseatle.bandcamp.com/
She stays until the end of the night regardless of when her turn is.
* * *
Dave whose thumbs up you could barely see was sound for the night. His day job is working in a chat room. He’s never met his co-workers who will meet for the first time in New York City next week. He closes the night with a song he hopes to sing to them.
* * *
Freddy Marx was here. I think Michael Birch was here. And so was Michael Ogletree shook my hand after singing a song for Egypt.
* * *
If I missed you, got a story wrong, got a name wrong, don’t worry. It’s not you. I just drove 9 hours from Canada the night before. I'm a near stranger. My memory’s dazed.
Picasso broke his work into pieces. Some pieces were missing. Some were misplaced. And somehow he conveyed something true. This is New York as a metaphor.
You get to know people at a place, they become that place.
Then they leave that place and that place is still there.
"Everything In Its Right Place."
Most of the pictures are from the EPK known as Facebook...a Picasso of photos, words, and status reports. Thanks to all for making your piece.
~ February 8, 2011
