Tonight Dirty Looks presented THIS IS NOT A DREAM at the Kitchen. The film is a series of interviews with legendary and up-and-coming performers examining the intersections of film and performance in their work. Glenn O’Brien argued that his ‘TV Party’ series showed the humility inherent in showing the camera, showing the shoes or airing dead time on TV. Nao Bustamante explained, and I’m paraphrasing… “as long as I can low a little “woop” into the universe which liberates television and gets people thinking about multigendered amorphously sexual creatures…” And Vaginal Davis quipped, “I prefer bad reviews.” The film works to allow the multitude of artists that have looked at our media saturated culture and dared to speak back, a platform to better explain what they did and why they did it. And just about everyone seemed to try and encourage audiences to stand up and engage the world.
DIRTY LOOKS: ON LOCATION (http://onlocation.dirtylooksnyc.org/) is a month-long series of queer interventions in New York City spaces. Over the course of July, artist film and video will appear in these queer social spaces and former sites of queer sociality (like shuttered bars, bathhouses and former meeting zones). A new piece, a different setting on each night of July.
Gavin Butt and Ben Walters introduce their documentary ‘This Is Not A Dream’ followed by extracts of the interactive performance by Dickie Beau.
Wildness was a party, people went there, they wore fur and sequined high heels, they danced and fought in a tiny backyard that was always covered in puke and shit because the toilet would give out. Drugs were easy to find. Usually someone was fucking someone in the bathroom. No one left alone. Unless the girls didn’t like you, in which case you should’ve been re-evaluting your priorities.
My first thought while entering Blasting Voice was, “Woah! Ashland (aka Total Freedom) did it” as the production quality was far more sheik then the reckless abandonment Wildness inspired.Then I noticed someone suspended by a rope over the stage area, I guessed it to be Ashland and imagined him angelically dropping from the ceiling, as he welcomed everyone into the space. I’d like to mention that hanging from a ceiling by rope is one of my favorite past times…
A youtube video projected on a wall shifted the audience’s attention away from the stage to a Sergeant giving a report back from the front lines of a war zone. His account of hunting the enemy and his earnest love of country eerily set the tone for the visual building onstage.
Vishwam Velandy hung from the ceiling like a cat burglar with a flashlight and headset, fumbling through the internet and ranting about his role as that of the “fun maker” when he’s just as melancholic as the next guy. As different youtube videos flashed on the wall, Velandy dove into the complex psychological condition brought about by internet social media culture, he likened the experience to the sufferings of multiple personality disorder. Simultaneously Velandy played poker and watched pop music videos as he lamented the banality of existence: the state of American life. Velandy couldn’t go to art school because his parents couldn’t afford it and he resented them.
As his rant wound down and he ascended back toward the ceiling, a smoke bomb went off in his pouch. Velandy cried out, “I can’t have the stage if I can’t touch the stage.” He was then pulled away from the stage and set on the ground. I couldn’t help but remember the recent mass shooting in Colorado, I wondered how I’d react if he suddenly imploded. Would I be covered in his blood? Would I run for the door? If, in the end, he blew up, it would have been an unforgettable performance.
Whenever I see a guy alone with a guitar I sort of freak out. You can tell Ilyas Ahmed really feels himself. It seemed like he was strumming for his life as he strummed his guitar and held the same notes excessively long, like he was trying to strum his way into heavenly noise. As he cooed into the mic, I kept thinking, he must really like Sigur Rose.
Lizzi Bougatsos came out with arms full of egg cartons full of egg shells, after a long process of constructing a huge rectangular Mylar installation center stage. A lighting and camera crew followed her around the room as she dropped cartons and eggshells on the floor. She talked about surviving in New York, explaining that she’s lived with a bit extra and had nothing, time and again, the great stabilizer being the feeling of “always walking on eggshells”.
She quipped that she’d developed tips on how to feel rich: drink everything out of wine glasses (obviously she doesn’t revere “Dot the I”); have one thing every day that makes you feel like you’re in Paris; take lots of bubble baths as they’re better and cheaper than a massage; look at the sun it smiles back at you; and more…. Then she disappeared back behind the Mylar installation and began to sing.
She sang out “I am the future of America” then distorted and looped the line, as she transitioned into an Ozlike character brandishing beats instead of the aspirations of tropes. She muffled over and over, “Did anyone bring me a teddy bear?” A bear wrapped in cloth was thrown from the back of the room, I couldn’t see it, as I couldn’t see the floor in front of the Mylar installation, but my friend says a teddy bear sat up and wiggled around as Bougatsos came out, grabbed it and pulled it back with her behind the installation. A few moments later the bear was raised above the installation and turned into a puppet. Then she seemingly undressed as she hung her clothes over the Mylar, as her set wound down, she climbed up through a cloud of smoke, revealing the cute gap between her front teeth.
I definitely suggest making it out to the final three nights of Blasting Noise for Phoebe Jean, J Patrick Walsh III, Analisa Teachworth, Devonté Hynes, Math Bass, Raul de Nieves, Elijah Crampton, Max Eisenberg, James Ferraro, Tim DeWitt, Wu Tsang, Shayne Oliver. Continue reading →
