The show is demanding a lot of me now. I've written one of the most dense, brutal, disjointed texts I have ever encountered, and it is really very difficult to memorize.
Incredible, I'm a self-sabatouer. But the piece will be great. Unforgettable, and hopefully inclusive. I don't want to make performance art that is a wall to slam up against.
But, also, I don't want to make people laugh, solely for the sake of being digestible and liked. I think the great courage of this piece is risking detestment.
I think the more raw I get, the more I develop the visceral and align it w/ Mark's drones and phones, the more it will suck the audience in.
We're contemplating running it for two weekend later this year, perhaps as a late night show.
Mark and I are kind of scared of what we're making. We're both aware of the taboos and darkness of the material. I'm worried whether or not there is even an audience here for this....I think its very European, and MN-nice sensibilities will definitely be on edge, or won't entertain it, and dismiss it because of the "difficulty" of the material.
It's also not easy to perform. I feel I have to command the material effortlessly in order to plumb the true emotional depths the performance demands. Deserves.
Not trying to prove anything.
I remember feeling the burden of trying to translate all my research on modern philosophy and suicide over the last 18 months into a cohesive performance/document. But then, I started just writing the material, after I had absolved myself of the burden of such a task as cramming all my research into one form. Then I found that the research has very much been internalized, and then some. I'll never look in the mirror the same way again and I'll certainly think twice about bringing a child into this world.
Most of what comes from me, if I turn off the intellect, and tap into the emotional, I have come to see through rehearsal that the performance's "normal things" come from a very informed and sympathetic place. What I thought was irrelevant, is now shocking to me. Very shocking. And painful.
Again, Mark and I can only refer to what we're doing as "fucked up." Then I think Heiner Muller said it too, you have no right NOT to write what comes out of you. The life of the art cannot be censored by your own reservations or prejudices.
I think that is the most courageous part of all this. Putting myself and the piece out there, coming to Mark with it, us coming together over it, and then sharing it with the world at large.
There are no answers.
I spent another 2 hours bleaching today...and I think all I've done is killed capillaries.
We relieved ourselves of telling a story. Of fabricating. Of lying. Stand stay nothing for all we care. Stand and stay nothing.
Today, Mark asked me what was with all the chairs. I wish I had a good answer. Perhaps they sounded like a good idea initially...now however they're just a burden. 7 purple heavy ass dust collecting albatrosses, that I have to carry up and down stairs for every rehearsal.
its cold. and dirty. the dirt I don't mind. the prick of a pin I do. the place, very cold. and I spent an hour working just to realize it was the totally wrong placement for the piece in space. the sightlines are non-existent. a horrible room to do a "performance" in. sharing it with monster-sized catastrophe sculptures. trying a new space thursday.
so, I'm looking for elbow pads. Knee pads too. I want to hurl myself around a room, but I'm concerned that the floors are concrete. Like me soul.
TKAPB and I were in the studio, had our first jam. If I was outside that door and heard what we were making, I'd be very afraid for the individuals inside.
...it's also for fair party discussion. At a polite evening, it was delightful for someone to admit to me how much they feared death. I wish I hugged him, but I think the shame kept us apart.
it's official, I'm working with To Kill a Petty Bourgeiosie to make distr|actions the wonderfully gritty beautiful unique unpleasant curious demanding twinkling challenging flossing coloring pondering mechanical show it needs to be.