Showing posts with label David Miller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Miller. Show all posts

Sunday, July 19, 2015

David Miller, a former member of the Mobius Artists Group, is launching his new (and first!) chapbook, The Afterimages : Joanne Rice

Mon Sep 29, 2014



Thought you might be interested in learning that David Miller, a former member of the Mobius Artists Group, is launching his new (and first!) chapbook, The Afterimages, published by Cervena Barva Press on Saturday, October 4 at 2pm.

Cervena Barva Press Studio, is located at the Arts at the Armory
Building, 191 Highland Avenue, Somerville - room B8 (basement).

He will be reading with Lee Varon and M.p. Carver

Mobius friend, Jane Wiley did the cover art.

If you cannot make the launch on October 4, perhaps you can see David on October 11.
He will be reading as
part of the Mr. Hip Presents series in Jamaica Plain.

That event is from
6-8:30 pm. Here's the link:
http://www.mrhippresents.com/events/2014/10/11/mr-hip-presents-october-reading.
The UForge Gallery's site is here: http://www.uforgegallery.com/ .



photo credit: Variations 8 (by John Cage) at Skowhegan.  Produced by David Miller.  Participating artists include, in this photo,  L-R: Bob Raymond, Larry Johnson, Jane Wang, David Miller, Margaret Bellafiore, Jed Speare.  At the Skowhegan School of Painting and Scuplture.  8/6/11.  Photo by Marilyn Arsem.

Happy 100th, John Cage! - notes on Ryoanji : David Miller

Wed Aug 29, 2012

As mentioned in the previous post, on September 5 Tom Plsek and I are celebrating John Cage's 100th birthday with a free concert at the Berklee College of Music Practice Facility on Fordham Road in Allston. All through 2012, there have been concerts and festivals honoring Cage's centenary year, with more to come (see http://johncage.org/2012/events.html). But, as near as we can tell, on the birthday itself, this is the only Cage celebration happening in the Boston area. For fuller information, including directions: http://www.mobius.org/events/happy-100th-john-cage.

The previous post included some thoughts about Two5, a piece from John Cage's late period. We're also doing the later-period work, Ryoanji, in a version for trombone and percussion, as well as the middle-period Solo for Sliding Trombone from the Concert for Piano and Orchestra.

The title Ryoanji designates a set of related compositions for solo instruments or voice in different combinations; there is also a version for orchestra. It is inspired by the famous rock garden at the Ryōan-ji temple in Kyoto, consisting of fifteen rocks in a bed of raked sand. Sure, there’s a decent Wikipedia article about the temple and garden, but for variety: http://www.yamasa.org/japan/english/destinations/kyoto/ryoanji.html. “Put simply, this rock garden is acknowledged to be one of the absolute masterpieces of Japanese culture.”

Cage’s experience of this garden inspired a set of visual works beginning in 1983, featuring the outlines of rocks, and work on the music began afterwards. To produce the solo parts, Cage traced portions of the outlines of a set of stones – these curved line become complex, irregular glissandi. There are places where the contours overlap, creating multiple voices at the same time. The percussion part for Ryoanji remains the same regardless of which combination of solo players perform. It consists of a slow, irregular set of beats on two objects simultaneously – one metal and the other wood. Where the solo parts are inspired by the rocks themselves, the percussion part provides a bed, like the raked sand.

Because there are multiple “voices”, a typical performance of this piece requires a solo trombonist to prepare recordings of the other voices. In our case, we’re taking a different approach, with multiple live trombonists – a rare treatment of this work. We’re looking forward to hearing what this trombone choir will sound like, set against the steady, irregular striking of wood and metal.

And we hope you will be able to join us.

Happy 100th, John Cage! Some Performance Notes : David Miller

Sun Aug 12, 2012

John Cage was born on September 5, 1912. To celebrate the 100th anniversary of his birth, Tom Plsek and I (with guests) will present three of his works, centered on the trombone: the Solo for Sliding Trombone from the Concert for Piano and Orchestra (1957), Ryoanji for trombone and percussion (1985?), and Two5 for trombone and piano (1991). Event page and info: http://www.mobius.org/events/happy-100th-john-cage.

This performance is the latest in a series of Cage-related events presented by the Mobius Artists Group, beginning in 1993 with an overnight performance of Empty Words, and recently continued with multiple versions of Music for Amplified Toy Piano, organized by Jane Wang as part of the Art of the UnGrand series (http://www.mobius.org/events/toy-piano-mini-fest-mobius). Tom inspired and organized our version of Empty Words, following Cage’s death in August 1992, setting in motion the events which led to our presentation of Fontana Mix with Four6 in the mid-1990s, the entire series of eight Variations, presented between 1996 and 2011 (http://www.mobius.org/events/cage-variations-viii-skowhegan), and a program we titled Cage for Trombone, also in the 1990s. Our birthday concert includes works from Cage for Trombone: while Tom and I have performed Ryoanji since that time, we’ve always wanted to get back to Two5, and this is our chance. So I’ll say a little something about that to start with.

Two5, one of Cage’s late works, belong to the series of some forty compositions referred to as either “number pieces” or “time-bracket pieces.” They’re called “number pieces” because their titles refer to  the number of performers involved (from one to 108). The superscript numerals simply designate the “position” in this group of compositions with that number of performers: in this case, the fifth piece titled Two. The phrase “time brackets” refers to Cage’s notation for how sound events occur in time. Typically, a single tone, group of notes, or other sound event will be noted on a fragment of musical staff, with spans of time in minutes and seconds within which the performer may choose to begin, and choose to end, the event. The order of events is generally fixed, but timing is flexible.

This description of Cage’s notation doesn’t convey the richness and variety found in the “number pieces” taken as a whole. Two5 is a quiet work lasting exactly forty minutes. Within each of the time brackets, the trombone performs single notes or very narrow glissandi. Cage provides a microtonal notation, with any of six pitches available between half-steps of the conventional Western scale. The piano is somewhat more active, with sequences of single notes and intervals for each time bracket. This doesn’t mean the piano dominates, though – Cage requests that the piano “should sound absent minded, without regularity or presence.”

The challenge with the piano part, of course, is that as a performer I have to be the opposite of absent minded. Two5 is the kind of work easily described as “meditative.” For me, preparing the performance has been like putting a meditation practice in action. Each tone and interval is a separate event, not leading to or following from any other. Each is therefore a fresh start: no downbeats, no cadences. Each touch requires the same quality of individual attention as every other touch. This is also true, I believe, for performance in general (beyond performance of music), but here the challenge is relentless. What I hope is that my quality of attention will infuse the performance sufficiently that the audience may experience the alert but relaxed attention that meditation practice aims for.

Later on we'll have notes from Tom, and some comments on the other pieces - so stay tuned.


Low Concept: gestures from O Superman : David Miller

Sat Apr 07, 2012

There were three sources of preexisting material in the performances of Low Concept: Brecht/Weill's song Die Seeräuber-Jenny ("Pirate Jenny"), the Adagio from Ravel's G major piano concerto, and Laurie Anderson's music O Superman music video. The first was evident, as I exposed the song in four stages, concluding with a kind of performance/staging in German. The second remained unnamed: I performed the first part of the Adagio, transcribed for a single piano, on a toy piano. If someone knew the music well enough they might have recognized it, though I don't believe anyone did. The third remained quite buried. I quoted only a brief passage from Anderson's lyrics, and only once. What I did quote and enact, at several points, was a description of the gestures she uses in her original music video (viewable here for example). Interesting intellectual property question, possibly: the video work is hers, her performance is hers, but the text below is "mine," I believe.

I did not attempt to describe one passage ("neither snow nor rain" etc.) where she makes use of sign language. I didn't want to hack around with a language I do not understand - like imitating the sounds of a spoken language you don't understand. You could just wind up mocking people.

The full rendition of Pirate Jenny segued directly into the italicized portion of the text below, which the audience had seen three times before, but now for the first time with the words: 'Cause when love is gone/there's always justice/and when justice is gone/there's always force/and when force is gone/there's always Mom/Hi Mom. That may have been the moment when people suddenly realized why Laurie Anderson was credited on the program. (Thank you Laurie Anderson. I still love this work.)

O Superman gesture score

Left arm raised, elbow at chest height and bent, fist closed at shoulder height

lowered almost horizontally, raised again, lowered, raised again

hand open, fingers together, thumb separate – elbow straightened and bent in a stiff handwaving gesture

arm dropped to side



arms at sides, elbows at sides, forearms slightly extended – straighten elbows so arms angled away from body

raise forearms and elbows away from sides – elbows bent at chest height, forearms up making V, hands open

then curl hands in to body above shoulder height

open hands flat again, make “money” gesture with fingers

rotate hands so backs of hands are toward body, forefingers point horizontally away from body

open hands flat so palms face front



left arm, elbow at side, palm open to front, 3rd-5th fingers curled slightly in front of index finger

gun gesture with thumb and index finger, 3rd-5th fingers curled in to palm

palm opens, facing up – forearm still at same angle to body and elbow at side

turn palm to face front, move palm toward viewer



right arm crossed in front of body, hand open, fingers together, placed above heart

open arm extended to right, elbow close to but not at body, slightly bent – forearm horizontal

turn palm up, raise left arm and hand in same position –look at left hand – tilt arms back and forth

turn arms over, palms down but curled out as if pushing away, then lower arms at sides and look down

raise arms away from body, elbows bent at chest height, fists at eye level

then drop arms – inverted, forearms hang vertically from bent elbow in same position, fists hanging at end of forearms

then repeat raising and dropping fists

raise arms to same height, elbows bent at same height, open palms pointing up making 90 degree angle with head

then move hands to face front

relax hands

lower left arm to horizontal position, hand open but facing down, wave hello with right arm in same position



Left arm raised, elbow at chest height and bent, fist closed at shoulder height

straighten elbow and extend arm, palm facing front, fingers together, thumb separate

bend elbow so upper arm is at 90 degree angle, separate all fingers and thumb, palm still forward

straighten elbow and turn hand into gun gesture

bend elbow and raise hand with gun gesture – when index finger is pointing up, curl hand into fist

straighten elbow with fist – when arm horizontal, point sideways with index finger

bend elbow with index finger extended – when index finger pointing up, curl hand to make a bird head silhouette

extend bird head slightly – open “beak” three times

raise hand to face front, open fingers, forearm toward body, elbow in same position

straighten elbow and extend hand with pointing forefinger

bend elbow and turn forefinger so pointing at self

turn hand and make “rabbit” with thumb and forefinger curled and touching, three fingers curled above
quickly extend forefinger pointing to left

bend elbow, open hand facing front, open fingers – bend elbow further so open hand angles towards body, then

straighten elbow so hand faces out

bend elbow again

straighten elbow so index and middle fingers extended, together, point left, thumb atop index finger, other fingers curled in

bend elbow so index and middle fingers point up

straighten elbow, then bend it again, all fingers together, palm slightly curling so fingertips point toward body

straighten elbow, palm facing up, pull left sleeve with right arm

bend elbow to make fist – facing toward body

straighten elbow – index finger pointing left

bend elbow – fist turns toward body, index finger curls over fist

mostly straighten elbow – relaxed finger extends at a gentle angle upward and out

immediately bend elbow, open fingers, palm facing front

straight elbow, palm forward – repeatedly bend and flex elbow with open fingers facing forward, increasing pace

end in fist with elbow bent



Notated by David Miller, March 2012

Low Concept: Saturday night open source text : David Miller

Sat Apr 07, 2012

This is the text generated by the audience members and me during the Low Concept performance on Saturday. This is available for anyone to use for any purpose, in part or whole, as long as it's noncommercial and you share alike: "Low Concept performance text by No Attribution Needed is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Based on a work at http://www.mobius.org/blog/david-miller." You don't have to attribute it, but do let me know about it.

One difference from the Friday night text is that, on Saturday, I asked questions of the audience by typing them so they displayed on the screen. Friday's questions were posed verbally, and are not part of the text. But as on Friday, "I" refers to different people at different times.

Performance text, Saturday, March 31, 2012

Saturday night text

We’re doing introductions. Meeting each other again after a long more or less pause, hiatus, however you want to express it, I guess. I am glad to see you all in the same room. I don’t think that’s really happened many times, even considering the time that has gone by. So, so, next thought. Straight against the keyboard, Fingertips. Sound of keys, sound of cameras, sound of breathing, my own heart, actually. Actually what? What follows actually? Not entirely sure. I was about to finish that sentence with something definite and affirmative, and in fact there’s probably something there but I don’t any longer know what it is. Especially as I get farther away from the sentence itself. Wilful self-distraction.

I will ask you a question or two during the course of the performance. I hope you will feel comfortable answering this question, these questions. No assumptions though.

A string of lights in the window in the house opposite. White strings of holiday lights, probably suspended across the glass of the window, but perhaps actually suspended in the room itself? Not that plausible, I guess, not impossible either.

Save file. Oh and yes, this isn’t a Mac. But I don’t get religious about it.

Question: when you were young (any young age counts), something happened to you that - say - opened your mind to the rest of what your life might be. Surely this happened to you. I can say this because I am fortunate to know all of you in the room.

So -- would someone like to mention something to us along this line - and may I enter it here?

I wrote my first poem when I was 10 and my teacher asked me if I had plagiarized it. I asked, what does that mean?

My teacher said, did your parents help you write it? My answer was no.

When I was 19, I was cast as Sonya in Uncle Vanya by Chekhov and that probably answers the question.

One more?

When I was in the third grade I wrote a book report on flying saucers. One of my sources was my coach, who had been in the air force. He was pursuing flyers saucers and found he could not match the subtlety of their movement. It changed his life and hearing about this changed my life.

Thanks.

Another question: what do you have nostalgia for?

The present. (And how is the present an object of nostalgia? No really.)

Because I miss everything even as it’s happening.

Yes, I get that.

The Sixties. No, really, too. I was listening to the Rutles album Archaeology just this afternoon.

Another?

My son when he was just a small child.

Thanks.

Scraping, rubbing, tearing. Last summer we visited the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture in Maine. Several of us from Mobius and me. Performing a piece by John Cage called Variations VIII. The idea - go to a place you do not know and have never been to before. Make a performance based only on what you find there. Bring nothing. So we did, six of us. Jane Wang, Jed Speare, Margaret Bellafiore, me, Larry Johnson, and Bob Raymond. My part of the performance ended with Bob and I working together. The building was set at the bottom of a kind of kettlebowl. The rim of the kettlebowl was lined with large boulders. Bob and I took scrapers from the fresco studio in the same building and a remote microphone and walked from boulder to boulder, scraping and sounding as the sound came out from inside the building and the audience came out of the building and sat on the grass under the stars. Which then is where we had Q and A afterwards.

One more question.

What were you just thinking about now?

His uncle who just passed away yesterday. I am very sorry to hear this, Andrew.

That I miss Bob.

Another?

Or you can bring it in later.

Same question, maybe? What is on your mind just now? Or, ow.

The answer to your question was on my mind.

And do I assume correctly that this was it?

Yes.

Yes I said yes I will yes.

Low Concept: Friday night open source text : David Miller

Sat Apr 07, 2012

During each performance I did a fair amount of free-text writing from my notebook computer, projected for the audience to read on a larger monitor. You can see this in one of the photographs. I also asked questions of the audience during the performance, and incorporated their answers into the writing. So that for example, "I" in the resulting text often, but not always, refers to me.

I told each night's audience, and now I'm telling anyone who reads this, that this collective writing is available for anyone to make use of, in whole or in part, for any other purpose except commercial purposes. Anyone includes you, whether you came to the performance or not. To use the Creative Commons language: "Low Concept performance text by No Attribution Needed is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Based on a work at http://www.mobius.org/blog/david-miller." No attribution to me is necessary, but do let me know if you use this and how you used it. I'm just curious about it.

Performance text, Friday, March 30, 2012

Friday night text - Low Concept

It’s 8 pm, so we’re beginning. People I haven’t seen in quite awhile are here, as well as a couple of people I haven’t met, or don’t recall having met ….

One question I have for myself in doing this kind of writing is whether or not I should keep the typos. I, no that’s an example right there, I was going to begin with a sentence with “I”, then changed my mind, then changed my mind back again to start the sentence with “I” as I just did. But I still, or perhaps “till” haven’t answered the question about the typos and probably won’t answer that question. Here is George Moseley. Now he’s is going around, no he’s not yet going around to the side, he’s standing by his bicycle. But I think he gets it. George is sharp like that, or “shart” whatever that is. People think I type quickly who only listen but that’s because they are also listening to me backspace to correct mistakes. Too hasty.

First thought, best thought, Ginsberg said, but I can’t say I always agree with that, no disrespect to his memory. By, or but, first thought is more or less what this is about. Well, first thought and then second thought. This keyboard has one key positioned differently from my last laptop, so characteristically I wind up highlighting and deleting a whole lot of text, fortunately I can undo it if I catch it in time. Like that for instance. If I could figure out the problem I’d correct it. Save.

I am simply typing. You could address this question later. It would be worthwhile to incorporate not only what comes from my own mind. But then again, this might be like being called on in class. Right?

A question about the question. Did we know it then? Did we only know it later? What opened your mind. Well, to help I will give an example. It would come from theater, almost inevitably. In college, I saw a production of Alice in Wonderland by the Manhattan Project - highly physical theater, almost entirely actor’s bodies. Plural. It completely opened up how I thought about acting and theater. There were other experiences. I knew it at the time, But there were probably resonances later.

Arthur - movies at the Garden Theater in Greenfield Mass. With lights in the shape of stars that came on before the show. One of his favorite places, in Greenfield, Also a little village on either side.

Thought, two examples, given were kind of safe to talk about perhaps? Other examples could be borderline traumatic, not so easy to talk about. So many, that “warped him” he says, repeating misspelling too.

One thing that I often think about when I come to this space on Norfolk Street - at Mobius, or when it was Meme Gallery - is that I think it really was Norfolk Street where this person I used to know well lived around 1983. This person, that’s coy. This woman I used to know well. I haven’t spent a lot of time on Norfolk Street since then, or even at the time. But I keep thinking it was on the next corner from this one, a house that is now painted a light blue, (color is redundant), where I did not stay the night, and we both knew I was not going to stay the night, and we both knew why, and I never in fact did. And I was only in that house once. But it seems so certain to me that it was the house on the next corner. I was living in Somerville at the time and I am not sure how I got home - but now as I am writing this I remember that I do know how I got home. I just walked home, all the way up Prospect Street through Union Square in Somerville and close to Sullivan Square. It was a long walk and I had a lot to consider.

The nostalgia question is embarrassing.

Mobius on Congress Street. Why is this question embarrassing? I have a lot of nostalgia and it seems that a lot of people don’t and maybe it’s a good thing, because you could get stuck in the past. Maybe the question is not embarrassing, but after all. But it feels good. But after all, here you are getting this question out of nowhere. Are there uses for nostalgia?

What does nostalgia mean? How would you define it?

Is that why Aerosmith is going on tour? Whose nostalgia. The fans’ Mountain Park. I went to Mountain Park as well when my family was growing up. My first amusement park. My girlfriend in college went with me later on, years later. We were on one of those tilt-a whirl rides. A couple of young boys were on the ride too. It was not very large. One of them got sick and vomited. My girlfriend got sick seeing this and vomited too. I started screaming at the ride operator, STOP people are throwing up!  But, like Arthur, I still miss Mountain Park. Nowadays Mountain Park is the name of an outdoor music venue, in more or less the same area.

Low Concept: Photo/Video documentation : David Miller

Sat Apr 07, 2012

To follow up on the performances last weekend of Low Concept (March 30 and 31), we've pulled together a Flickr photo album set, and three videos on Vimeo by John Rice.

The Flick photographs are by Jane Wiley from March 31, though the first four pictures are not from the performance but are images of my earlier preparation at home, practicing Ravel at a toy piano in the dark.

John's first two videos are from March 30. The first is of Alisia Waller's street action. The second focuses on Joanne Rice's street action. The third video, from March 31, focuses on Alisia and I.

Thanks to Jane Wang for organizing the documentation.

Low Concept: Experimental? Theater? : David Miller

Mon Mar 19, 2012

IMG_4776 (view photo on flickr.com)

When Jane Wang was putting together the Art of the UnGrand Series, she asked me if I would develop an experimental theater contribution. I was happy to take that on. It has been sort of my brand over the decades (though she didn't put it that way). But this begs a couple of questions, in particular because it's been about 30 years since the phrase "experimental theater" attracted very much attention. What is the "theater" of this piece, and how is it experimental?

I am familiar with the pejorative, not to mention outright hostile, associations that are sometimes attached to the word "theater", and I'm not going to give space to those here. What I'd say is "theater" about this piece as it's developing is: 1) its aesthetic impurity, and 2) its partial use of preexisting materials.

Theater has permission to use preexisting materials, typically though not exclusively called "scripts." The emphasis here is on permission rather than requirement. Even a cursory look at global theater history and practice shows that it's not all been about play production, nor has all play production followed the Western mainstream/commercial model. And this is not a play.

There are five of us in this performance, but I'll only write here about what I plan to do. I will be using three pieces of preexisting material: one song from a Weimar Republic musical theater piece, a fragment of a piece of concert music from around the same era, and gestural material derived from a video produced 30 years ago by a still well-known performance artist. That's all I will say - if you are reading this and come to the performance, I don't want to generate confused expectations. I selected these materials over the past few months because they have spoken to me for decades. That is, it became more or less inevitable that I would use them.

It's not too much to say that I experience a process something like alchemy in the transformation of writing or other forms of notation (musical scores, actions on video) to live performance. I am attracted, frequently, to preexisting material because I have a sense that it will contribute strongly to my work. I have a sense that it will provide a matrix for a series of actions or moments, with their associated exact flows of affect or feeling-tone, that are irreplaceable and have no equivalent in anything I would "create" directly. So I transform them by incorporating them into my work. We know how this works from mashups and collage. This also has to do with my deep commitment to an idea of work that is based in present-moment doing, as compared with an intellectual property-related concept. Work is what you do, as compared with what you (literally or figuratively) sign your name to.

And experimental? Well, it's not the mashup part, as that set of techniques is well established. My question going into this is, will the five of us developing Low Concept create a container that holds both the preexisting and the spontaneously generated material? Because there will also be a good deal of the latter. For me, this is still unfamiliar territory.

(Cathy, Jed, Alisia and Joanne may or may not be using elements of preexisting material in what they do. That's up to them. I'll mostly find out about this at the same time the audience does.)

Low Concept and the space itself : David Miller

Wed Mar 14, 2012

When I began work on this piece last fall - when it still seemed like it might truly be a solo performance - I pretty much knew nothing to begin with. (Thus the title.) I started by gathering together all of the miscellaneous notes I'd made over the years, in little notebooks mostly, for performance ideas that had never yet taken shape. Some of those still seemed resonant, though few of that selection have survived to this point. One resource that I'd never made real use of is my handwritten copy of Eno's Oblique Strategies deck. I never had a copy of my own, but copied a deck owned by Mario-Erik Paoli, a Mobius Artists Group member in the 1980s, onto index cards. So why not start with that? I shuffled the deck and picked "Decorate, decorate." OK.

I used to consult the I Ching with some regularity in the 1970s and somewhat in the 80s. Hadn't looked at that in ages either, so I threw some old pennies. This turned up Coming to Meet, changing to Pushing Upward. The commentary on Coming to Meet is heavily misogynist, and to that extent it wasn't too interesting - except that it described the return of darkness. Or Yin. Or - The UnGrand. Pushing Upward suggested adaptation to obstacles and growing around them. (Remember "The internet interprets censorship as damage and routes around it"? Or words to that effect from the 90s.)

Mulling over these inputs, I came back to the knowledge that I am often most inspired by the characteristics of actual spaces. (This is analogous to being inspired more by working with others than working alone.) I want to not just stand in a room and perform, but develop the room itself, as far as the circumstances allow. Last August, I and several current or recent MAG members performed John Cage's Variations VIII at the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture in Maine - the place where it was first performed. The nutshell description of this work is that you go to a place you're not familiar with and create a performance based only on the resources you find there. Bring nothing. There can't be a more site-specific approach to performance than this. (And no, we did not repeat what Cage did.)

I like the current Mobius space on Norfolk Street in Cambridge. I like its windows onto the street and the fact that the office and bathroom spaces are symmetrical at the back of the room. I'm intrigued by the fact that it's so small. So early on, I riveted to the idea that Low Concept would develop the qualities of the space, including its view of the street. I asked Cathy Nolan Vincevic if she would take on "Decorate, decorate" in relation to the space, and to my delight, she agreed to do so. Jed Speare and I will work on sounding the space. It is resonant enough all by itself, but I want to see what happens if we also over-amplify it. Not meaning for it to be too loud, but rather, amplifying unneccesarily, so that every sound might be heard both in acoustic and electronic space.

And darkness - we will perform without room lights. There will be lots of ambient light from the street, so it won't be in blackness. But the lighting will be what the external environment beyond the windows provides, aside from a few task lights.

There is more to say about the likely actual content of the performance. More on that later.

Huh, and just now I discovered that you can buy the latest edition of Oblique Strategies. Think I will.

Low Concept: "A Solo Performance for Five People?" : David Miller

Wed Mar 07, 2012

When Jane Wang asked me to make a performance for the Art of the UnGrand series, we may both have had the default assumption that it would be a solo performance. Certainly that was my assumption at first - probably because solos have long been the default format in the performance art world. I've done a number of these myself. I think this has to do with performance art's relationship with the visual arts, where individual work is the norm. (I am sure someone will correct my facile understanding.)

But although solo performance is something I have done in the past and may very well do again, for a few years now I basically have gone blank when thinking about it. Virtually nothing comes up - no images, no concepts, no sense of commitment, no inspiration. Despite my almost incessant use of the first-person-singular in my writing, I'm not actually that interested in myself. I am interested in myself as I collaborate and learn from others. This is enlivening to me, and I can give a great deal to working closely with even one other person.

There was a threshold moment I experienced about a decade ago. I was at a dance concert at Green Street Studios in Cambridge. I don't remember which company it was. I was suddenly washed over by this feeling of great ache and emptiness, as I watched the dancers working together, committed together, in this situation of complex mutual interdependence. That seemed like living to me. Working alone suddenly seemed like starving or suffocating.

So in starting to develop this piece, Low Concept, I quickly came to grips with the fact that it would not be a solo. At minimum, if anything at all was going to happen by the end of March, I would at least need someone to talk with.

As it has turned out, there will be five of us. We will be working in a coordinated, somewhat interdependent but also independent fashion - each of us doing what we do, simultaneously and with mutual understanding. We will not have a shared "script" or "score," however - more like a commonly understood scenario. The conversations I've had with Jed and Cathy have informed what all three of us are developing. I have asked Joanne and Alisia to develop completely independent actions, integrated with the rest of the performance only by their occurrence in time. I don't know what they are going to do, at all. But even knowing that what I do may be interrupted by what they will do helps me develop my own work.

Of course, in this posting I haven't said a single concrete thing about imagery, themes and so on. Another post or two for that. This one is about working method, and why this might be a solo performance for five people.

March 7, 2011

Low Concept : David Miller

Sun Feb 19, 2012

Low Concept

Performance by David Miller, Joanne Rice, Jed Speare, Cathy Nolan Vincevic, Alisia Waller

March 30-31, 8 pm

Low Concept is the experimental theater entry in the Art of the UnGrand series. What might “experimental theater” mean at this point? Being theater, it is aesthetically impure. Being theater, it has permission to make use of pre-existing material. (Emphasis on permission rather than requirement.) What is UnGrand about it? Aside from the likely use of toy piano (but wait, that would be music), work on the piece began with nothing. No High Concept. A performance built inductively from widely disparate materials that brought themselves forward as givens. Including, in particular, the exact characteristics of the Cambridge Mobius space and its immediate surroundings.

Two readings from Eno’s Oblique Strategies: 1) Decorate, decorate. 2) Don’t be afraid of clichés.

David Miller