Local band Paul’s Apartment playing at Peach’s Grill for Neil Thompson’s benefit, September 27 2008
A celebration of melancholia. It makes viable the associated passions and validates the emoting of the state not just as a purge but as connection, as creative expression, as celebration. As an exploration or some/one of the many unique things life brings us in moments. They are fleeting but through expression they are caught, captured, shared, “made visible.” And through this we can relive them, if we wish, or remember them, or feel less alienated because, alas, someone has managed to “make visible” that which we have struggled to explain our entire lives. The validation makes our experience somehow richer—perhaps because now we have the vocabulary for it.
I am listening to the soundtrack to Circus Contraption‘s “Grand American Traveling Dime Museum” (1 l, I keep repeating to myself, 1 l, not 2). It makes me want to run away and join the circus. Oh yes. But not just any circus. Oh no. THEIR circus. The most brilliant and beautiful and spectacley circus ever. And they are contemporary—it’s rare for me to love anything contemporary. Could this mark a new beginning for me? (“Means to a beginning”?)
It’s difficult to be listening to them on headphones at a coffeeshop, when all I can do is bop my head and sway my upper body a bit; when I want to do is jump around, making interpretive dance with my contortionist body. “Red Noodle” in particular—when I am alone I cannot help but leap to my feet when it comes on.
They lift my spirits, they cure what ails me. “A bracing curative for the afflictions of our times,” they say. I must agree.
I wrote something on this show before: On the spectacle and/of Circus Contraption
Technorati tags: circus
Circus Contraption‘s Grand American Traveling Dime Museum
Theater For The New City, NYC, 9/13/06
“A bracing curative for the afflictions of our times”
Circus Contraption opened with a bang—a spectacle-bang. The translucent curtain covering the band was yanked away dramatically, dragged across the floor by unseen hands/tools, and a massive billowing of smoke was released. Simultaneously, the decorated band plunged into the first musical number, a beautifully dissonant arrangement. The ringmaster began his seduction… Continue reading
(I’m on a quest to get my mom into The Clash, because she missed them the first time round. This was an email to her, with the attached songs. I did this before with “The Card Cheat.”) Continue reading
I wrote and directed a play recently. You can read about it here and here.
The music was an integral part of the show, something which I did not really reflect upon. It might be too late to do it now.
Though I will say, a fellow director remarked, “The soundtrack to a play is always the soundtrack to a director’s life.”