Val Vibrata
live stoner rock wafting to the unscathed handmade wood & concrete cabin high up the mountain. it's cecilia's birthday, it took us 9 hours to get here, there's copious pasta, wine, hearth-baked potatoes, cheer, another entourage from way south rented a car in Rome to be here ... strange health-related shyness of g's old friend ... also bitter testimony about cavalier govt carelessness and unfairness, with ready comparison to katrina. it's a party by of for survivors. sweet actors and artists who have been living in stark blue govt issue tents, not able to cook indoors, not having a say in where they go or who can visit them when. an off-putting privilege-wielding boss-therapist from the now destroyed university leaves the table inside where he was being various kinds of jerk and comes out to the porch where I retreated, he needs to vent: I can barely follow him but he's also a victim, seething. they will be under special restriction during the surely triumphal G8 meeting, but to them it seems to be only a brief episode of a drawn-out dreary process. I think we'll try to offer a performance there in november, 50-50 them and us.
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intense hospitality
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before that I took a solo quixotic 1-day trip to the venice biennale. i didn't know what i was in for travel-wise--the main garden where takes place is at the furthest edge of the archipelago and the city is a maze. I did get there with 90 minutes before closing and saw a lot more than expected. I missed Wodiczko's exhibit in the Poland pavilion but was glad to spend some time with Öyvind Fahlstrom (including a great painting/cartoon of root-form frames illustrating a concise answer to the question "what's wrong with capitalism?"). There was an unsigned entire Frank-Lloyd-Wright-like house for sale, with lots of disturbing in-joke art and furnishings--in the stairs up to the library balcony have been half destroyed by tremor; the elegant dining table has a Salcedo-shibboleth-like crack splitting it in two; there are framed panhandling signs from various world cities on the wall... some pavilions I breezed through (France, Russia, Venezuela, Korea, Australia, Finland) some I lingered in (Spain, Holland, Morocco, Hungary) ... a lot of strong moods & environments ...
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on the way there, flights were a mangle of delays and negotiations, but meant we got to spend the night in the Bronx
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composition of music, composition of activism ... five looks:
gesture
function (in and of)
analogy
stress
operation (participation)
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intense hospitality
---
before that I took a solo quixotic 1-day trip to the venice biennale. i didn't know what i was in for travel-wise--the main garden where takes place is at the furthest edge of the archipelago and the city is a maze. I did get there with 90 minutes before closing and saw a lot more than expected. I missed Wodiczko's exhibit in the Poland pavilion but was glad to spend some time with Öyvind Fahlstrom (including a great painting/cartoon of root-form frames illustrating a concise answer to the question "what's wrong with capitalism?"). There was an unsigned entire Frank-Lloyd-Wright-like house for sale, with lots of disturbing in-joke art and furnishings--in the stairs up to the library balcony have been half destroyed by tremor; the elegant dining table has a Salcedo-shibboleth-like crack splitting it in two; there are framed panhandling signs from various world cities on the wall... some pavilions I breezed through (France, Russia, Venezuela, Korea, Australia, Finland) some I lingered in (Spain, Holland, Morocco, Hungary) ... a lot of strong moods & environments ...
---
on the way there, flights were a mangle of delays and negotiations, but meant we got to spend the night in the Bronx
---
composition of music, composition of activism ... five looks:
gesture
function (in and of)
analogy
stress
operation (participation)