A good ArtSwarm night last night. Spent most of yesterday preparing. I always think it would take hardly any time but it ends up taking almost all of the day. I ate just before leaving but was still starving and exhausted at the end of it, too tired to sleep after carrying the equipment up and down the stairs. After I've survived, I consider it a great workout.
A very good night, a huge mix of acts including poetry, story, and play readings, to songs, music without words, and a projected slideshow. Our most eclectic night yet. These nights are so hard to judge, the acts, the 'quality' of them, is very subjective, and part of the aim of this is for performers to learn and refine their own skills, so everything that takes place is equally good (except, from my point of view as emmcee, acts which overrun or avariciously grasp at shared resources. This is very rare, in fact, I think of the 60 or so acts over 6 events to date, only one has overrun their allotted time). I like to try new things and, if anything, gain most from things which are rough and flawed. We can't learn from things that go to plan. It's public practice of the new that this sort of event is exactly for.
Generally, I feel elated and uplifted at the end, as well as shaky and aching, and often annoyed, worried, exhausted, wondering why I do them and if I should continue. At the end of each one I tell myself that it was the last one, that I can't face another. Not due to any treatment by anyone else; Deborah, performers, and audience alike are hugely supportive and positive to an amazing degree, but these events are draining physically and emotionally, and can feel unrewarding and relentless. Yet, perhaps that is the essence of art itself, and the essence of life too. The essence of art and life is the pursuit of crazy, seemingly meaningless, excessive and tiring explosions of expression; climbing a mountain in a storm, raging against the wind, smashing the walls with fists and warrior's cries. This is the romantic ideal. As such, perhaps this feeling itself proves that these ArtSwarm events are indeed art, moreso than the ArtsLab on the radio, moreso than ArtSwarm the YouTube show.
Here I am as 'Ttom Catt' singing Let's Dance Little Squirrel. I rehearsed it a minuscule three or so times, yet discovered on the night that my mask made seeing what I was playing impossible, so the performance turned into a surrealistic punk performance. I am sure that this made it better, turned a mere rock song into an transdimensional emotional orb.
Little squirrel...
Hey, little squirrel...
Let's dance
little squirrel
Let's dance
to-night
Take a chance
little squirrel
I will not
bite
Ready or not I'm coming
My heart is beating fast
I feel my eyes dilating
wide
and you are in my sight.
Little squirrel!
Little squirrel!
Let's dance
little squirrel
Let me have a
taste
Try your luck
little squirrel
there's no time to
waste.
Ready or not I'm coming
My heart is beating fast
I feel my eyes dilating
wide
and you are in my sight.
Little squirrel!
Little squirrel!
