The first, you may remember, was the Aeolian Ride that Will and I took part in on 9.8.07.
We had an absolute blast wearing these wind pods that inflated as we rode our bikes. What I found most interesting was the response (or lack thereof) from people who saw us-- it went anywhere from dumbfoundedness to all-out coveting (yes, one girl in Williamsburg wanted to know where she could get one).
I was chatting with a few of the other riders and we were all taken with the fact that the General Public wants an Answer. It does not suffice, apparently, to do Art for Art's Sake. We must have been commenting on something (war, dental hygiene, AIDS-- one guy even went so far as to purport that we were an Arty Sect of the KKK!) When I was asked by a woman in SoHo what I was and replied sincerely "whatever you want me to be", she thought I was kidding. Honestly, beyond "an art project", I didn't really know what we Were Doing, but it was fun. Isn't that ok?
Then all last week, I took to the streets with Hope, Jeff and a full blown gang of ladies for another round of Piper McKenzie madness as part of One Million Forgotten Moments, a project spearheaded by the very energetic and pure-of-heart Yehuda Duenas. With a grant and space from the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, he and his team converted an old video store storefront into a fantastical jewel-box theater, where the audience sat in the window and watched the action on the street.
Our piece was a full-blown girl-gang street brawl in front of the window, followed by a candlelit funeral procession (we killed one of our own in the piece) that wound down the median and across the street into City Hall Park.This was a strange piece to be a part of as a performer, mainly because of the glass separating us from the audience: there was no palpable response. But there was another chunk of audience-- any and everyone who happened to walk on by.
Like the Aeolian Ride, we got a full range of audience response, from simply "what's going on" to "is this for September eleventh?" to an angry "What in the hell are you people doing?! Get a job!" The last one there was my favorite, mainly because it came from one in a group of seemingly drunk 16-year-olds. Either way, it got people talking, and many stayed to watch the rest of the performances.
So for the last two weeks, I felt a little bit like we were back in Berlin. Well, not really, but there was a glimmer of excitement in taking it to the streets, even briefly.
3 comments:
It's felt a bit like Berlin for me too!
I would especially like to commend you on that video. Excellently shot.
Anyway, the million forgotten moments was a lot of fun. I was on the inside, of course, and when you looked out onto the street it you could always tell when someone was performing if they were in costume. But for everyone else, it was hard to tell if they were in on the act of just happened to be standing there. I thought one guy was actually part of it as he was dancing and slowly stripping off his shirt, even as batman flew across stage and tackled him off to the sidelines. Only because I was standing next to the director did I realize that the stripper was just so taken by the show that he joined in!
I'm not sure it's totally fair to say that Art for Art's Sake doesn't suffice for the General Public. In New York, a group of inflated people riding bicycles aren't necessarily doing Street Art--they could be publicizing something (in which case asking for an Answer is the appropriate response), or they could be protesting something (ditto), or they could be some wacko religious cult performing a ritual to prevent the aliens from stealing their thoughts (in which case the less interaction the better).
At the same time, I'd also like to defend the desire for an Answer. For me part of the joy of Street Art is that, unlike art in a museum (or most performance art in a theater), the viewer can engage actively with what's going on. How many times have you stood in a museum looking at a painting wishing you could talk to the guy/gal who painted it about why s/he made various choices, or what some of those choices are intended to represent?
That said, I think it's a fabulous video and I wish I'd been there.
Good points all around, Mr. Derfner. I must say that I, too, like to know just what it is that I'm looking at, and often will ask. When we replied, all inflated and bike-riding, that we weren't symbolizing anything, the disgust, shock and disbelief was astounding.
Did I mention that a cop thought we were sperm?
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