new york diary part four

This entry covers Wednesday in New York and includes my photos of the exhibition space at the AC Institute.


As previously edits and omissions in square brackets.

The other parts
http://santiagosdeadwasp.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-york-diary-part-one.html

http://santiagosdeadwasp.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-york-diary-part-two.html

http://santiagosdeadwasp.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-york-diary-part-three.html

http://santiagosdeadwasp.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-york-diary-part-five.html

http://santiagosdeadwasp.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-york-diary-part-six.html

http://santiagosdeadwasp.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-york-diary-part-seven.html

http://santiagosdeadwasp.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-york-diary-part-eight.html



13/10/10 Morning
Noticably a little chillier this morning but a clear blue sky. Wandered round and got myself lost again but had a good coffee and cookie before getting back to the subway.



My cold hasn't quite shifted as I would have liked. Quite a lot coughing and phlegm last night. I hope thought it'll clear out today and tonight.


Realised this morning I feel safer on the streets here than I do in Manchester or a lot of UK cities. There seems to be less aggression. Or at least I'm not picking up on it if there is.



To save on eating out or buying ready meals because I'm here for five days I've bought ingredients for lunch and dinner. Lunch is Chinese [instant] noodles and dinner is two sandwiches of chopped tomato, spring onion, mushroom and peppered cheese.


It's a monotonous diet but it's only for a week and it keeps my costs down. I also have coffee and milk. Speaking of which this morning's coffee was cheap, tasted good and wasn't thick with sugar.



Did go for a short trip out to Manhattan and straight back last night when the internet cafe was shut and I didn't fancy a bar. Spent the rest of the time reading the paper and Some Prefer Nettles.


Left off writing because I didn't have too much to say and yesterday's diary entries were unfocussed and messy.



13/10/10 Afternoon
This morning I was able to blog a substantial chunk of my diary so far. It's interesting how much I've written given that I never meant to write a diary.


Of course I've had a lot of time to write and there are a lot of experiences. I'm finding it fun to walk around get lost and explore the city from within rather than check off the tourist spots.



More or less by accident I've seen Time Square, 42nd Street, Broadway, Ground Zero and across the water the Statue of Liberty. Not to mention Penn Station, the outside of MoMA and Central Park. These [last two] more by choice.


I may try and get online again tomorrow or Friday. More to check emails and Facebook than to blog anything.



Although I have a few notes about what I want to do with my performance, and a fairly clear plan, I still don't know what I'm going to do. And like I mentioned before as my first unplugged improvised performance it's going to be interesting.


Curiously people don't seem to be mixing too much at the hostel. I think if it had a common area like the place in New Cross it would be friendlier.



If anything it's a little scummier than the New Cross hostel - although the shower is better. There are enough clean areas in the kitchen and fridge to make it genuinely useful rather than an ordeal.


Yesterday I started noticing that a lot of the birds that looked familiar were not quite what I thought. Different colourings, different sizes. The most exciting wildlife encounter has to be the raccoon thought. I think I heard it hissing as I went away. I could be wrong about that.



Oh, the butterflies that look kind of like red admirals but a lot larger that I've seen gliding in the street are pretty cool.


Wondering whether the pages/stanzas from )TH GOOD /OLD W~AY I posted yesterday will get home before me. If they take the full ten days or more it's conceivable I might finish the next set and get them to Andrew [Taylor] before they arrive.



Back to wildlife sparrows seem to be a characteristic daytime bird. The squirrels strike me accurately or no as bigger and more aggressive than in the UK.


I like the exhibition and the space. It's resonant and I can get sounds from the walls and floor. Like the London show this is pretty densely packed. Not so much the volume of material more the density of what's in it.



The emphasis seems to be slightly more toward participatory works. But mine aren't the only relatively static pieces. The Seekers of Lice, if p then q, Knives Forks and Spoons and Anne Charnock works also require less directed participation.


I got some decent pictures and I'll probably get a few more tomorrow along with audio of the performance. Although if I take up the whole two hours I can't get everything.



Tonight get to a bar and make some preliminary plans for the performance. Tomorrow and maybe a little today collect some noise making objects.


I really like what's been done with the boxes - some of them stuck on the wall some on the window and others on shelves. The window ones especially get some interesting effects.



I'm not certain how much they enter into dialogue with other pieces. To a limited extent they do and there are parallels with features of the space which is nice. I particular a couple of knot holes in the floorboards echo the visual poem forms.


There are also some folded pieces and paper constructions although the latter are essentially books. While in London there was some visual poetry albeit utterly unlike mine here I don't think there is. Unless the more concrete works by Anne Charnock and Seekers of Lice count.



Once again I like the Seekers of Lice pieces. I also like Threads by Jill Magi although there hasn't been much participation with it. It's always good to see Ad Finitum but I'd guess that's going to remain just an object to most people.


The space itself was taller, longer and a little wider than I expected. The light was also better. It was perhaps a little easy to neglect if you were heading for the main space or if one or two people were already in there.



It's just after 15:45. Although I have the rest of today, the whole of tomorrow and Friday up to around 17:00 when I need to start heading for the airport it feels like my holiday's coming to an end before it's really begun.


But tomorrow is going t0 be packed and I'll have a lot to blog about when I get home. Remember to send David [Berridge - the curator of both Writing/Exhibition/Performance in London and The Department of Micro-Poetics exhibition here] and the AC Institute links to all the relevant posts and get get them copies of the photos and the audio. Not wholly clear how to get the audio to AC - maybe mail a CD but might be better to host somewhere it's downloadable.



How do the boxes and the exhibition as a whole function in the wider context of New York? Not dissimilar to London I think. Even more so in a way. While the space in London was a floor of a building in a corner of an industrial estate away from the main streets of what's in some ways a pretty peripheral part of London the case is different in two different ways here.


Chelsea where the gallery is and the wider area of Manhattan are not especially peripheral. But the street the gallery is on isn't easy to find and missing in places. It's part of one floor of a bigger building than in London. The exhibition is in a space away from the main space. There are also many more distractions nearby and much more heavily documented [artistic] history close to.



To me this makes the density and opportunity for reflective engagement the exhibition offers more valuable even than in London.


My one reservation brought into focus by the main exhibition is to do with the participatory works. The kind of instructions and imperatives they require risk working against a deeper engagement with the ideas underlying them.



So you follow the instructions because that's what you've been asked to do. Not because you want to or because there is any apparent meaning in the actions. This was a difficulty I had with my [sound] installation at the Chapman show [menu for murmur].


I would have rather left it without instructions. But then visitors would have had no idea how to interact with the piece. In the end the label was for me an afterthought and an ugly compromise. And all that was required in this case was a simple instruction to blow.



With more detailed and circumscribed instructions the desire is to ignore them and do something else or perhaps ignore the work altogether. With the Exchange Value show[s] I got tired of reading and trying to understand the instructions. They meant nothing to me and got in the way of appreciating the work.


The art event though some it did seem to speak for itself got drowned out in imperatives. I stopped looking, lost the joy of looking, and instead saw something that demanded an engagement of me I wasn't sure I wanted to give.



Though the problem was less acute with the Department of Micro-Poetics show it was still a consideration. Iw was more fun where the works carried an ambiguity about how you were supposed to engage with them.


That said I do have a love of work that exists purely as a set of instruction, as a process that each participant can recreate for themselves each time - hence title to go here and mutapoem. The only real difference is contextual - my pieces are designed so you can engage privately rather than publicly [if you prefer]. I'd also try to argue that the structure of them is different. In my pieces the work is remade every time (title to go here) or has the potential to be remade every time and changes the work forever (mutapoem). This may not be true.



But with that small caveat which is perhaps more a matter of personal preference than serious aesthetic concern I like the show. I guess I'm one of a handful of people if not the only person to have seen both exhibitions in situ.


Get me - globetrotting international artist.



13/10/10 Evening
Since the most enticing films on around 42nd St were The Social Network which I can't say interests me or Inception which starts late and is very long I've decided to come back to [The] Fulton Grand and spend another evening there. I can plan out some strategies for the performance and perhaps write a little more diary.

Considering objects for the performance I think I'll use readymades I have to hand. The ginger ale bottle, a newspaper if I remember to buy one to check the date, my pen and this notebook (for the plastic cover and spiral spine) and maybe my coffee jar to scrape and shake. I can bang my feet on the floor and tap and scrape the walls.



The big problem with the performance will be giving it structure but also bringing together a coherent piece at the end. I don't want to be reliant on objects either as I have quite enough as it stands to make a performance without voice.

So I think three stages each further subdivided should give me enough shape and enough reference points to keep me on track.



Stage one vocal improvisations. Start by going round the space making vocal responses to the various pieces. When they work repeat and annotate them. Also from time to time tap or scrape the floor or wall or use one of the objects. I recommend concentrating on the newspaper - to fold in echo of the various pieces - but also to shake, blow and tear. Make vocal responses or imitations of any object sounds or sounds from the space.


Seek out vocal resonances and exploit them. Don't be afraid of snippets of song - especially Long Lankin, The Good Old Way and The Prickle Holly Bush. While I'd avoid an imitation of the accent the two quotes of the trip - the inflight attendant's 'My job is smiling' and the subway litany 'Stand clear of the closing doors' I think could make an appearance.



Stage two try different configurations. Use notes to see what elements work together. Importantly see if you can keep making sound that sounds purposeful over a period of time.


Draw from these notes - the notes from this bar where I talk about chatter moving about the space, rising and falling. The earlier notes about the mother singing to and kissing her baby.



This I guess is the consolidation and composition phase.


Stage three bring it all together in a final piece. Bear in mind dynamics - start slow and quiet, build to at least one crescendo and then fade off - relatively quickly so it's clear it's at an end.



The difficult thing I want to reflect is the density and reflective complexity of the show. Some text - either read, read quickly or mutilated might help. So will a variety of textures, sounds and volumes. The tricky thing is that with this cold I can't sustain my breath for any length of time.


Although I have anxieties about all stages of the performance this last stage is the one that worries me most. For the whole performance I think I need to make a crib sheet for myself based on these notes. And right now there's not a lot more I can do prepare for the performance.



After I got off the subway a few stops late and wandered in the wrong direction for a while I realised that not for the first time there are parts of Brooklyn where I can walk several blocks and be the only white face.


There are parts of Manchester that are predominantly Asian but nothing so pronounced as here. This neither pleases me or worries me. It's simply an observation.



Some negatives of the trip. I have been tense a lot of the time unnecessarily and for no good reason. I haven't spoken to people much but then it not something I'd do at home a great deal. I haven't planned any days or gone to really any other galleries.


[Omitted]



Aside from that there are really no downsides. Most of these downsides are things I have at home anyway and my lack of plans is a good thing for someone on holiday. My first overseas holiday - how about that? Only two more nights though.


Manchester seems remote in time never mind distance. I guess shortly New York will be a mirage. Something like this coming this year amongst all the other changes must change me somehow. i've no idea how or how much though. Enough. Get on with the crib sheet.



Ok, that's done and I think I've settled on [The] New York Times as my sole object. Not sure where I'll place recorder but probably on the floor. Takes shoes off of course. Oh, that's sole object if you don't count the space, the walls, floor, windows, and my own body.


Wouldn't it be cool - bearing in mind that staying in flight the rest of my life isn't an option - to not have a home. To keep moving on place to place. Even as I write it I'm aware I value friends too much. I'd like the security of people I can go back to. And as well as that I still feel the need for a relationship. Despite the fact that my two 'long-term' relationships generously interpreted just about make five years. An eighth of my life - less I'm 41 in about 10 days.



But it has its temptations. To be who I want to be and do what I want without having to meet anyone's expectations. And I can learn given time - a year or two - to be gregarious. I've watched people recently, it's easy to meet people and talk to them. I just need to overcome my reticence.


Enough self-reflection. Self-reflection stopped you making a trip like this for close to 13 years after you got your first passport. Cutting out the indulgent self-reflection got you making visual art seriously, got you new friends, got you this performance and holiday, got you the three best years you can remember.



What were today's highlights? Pathetic as it seems getting online and blogging the first part of the diary as well as checking my emails and Facebook was cool. Coming to this bar bar again was a good idea. The coffee and cookie earlier were good. The nice gesture of the guy replacing my candle with a lit one on his way past. The two parents lavishing attention on their worried kid on the subway. The exhibition of course. The sunshine. And as usual getting lost.


Certainly been a more fun and less stressful trip than London. It's totally unbelievable I left for New York only a week after travelling to London. That it's only ten days since I performed there. [Omitted] Hell, not to mention Counting Backwards. The time's just packed. Oh and the visit to Mirabel Studios the night before I left [omitted].



Actually now I'm glad I wasn't nominated for the blog awards. They seem unimportant and it's one less unnecessary event for me to go to. [Money where my mouth is - if I'm nominated and shortlisted next year I'm not going.] Not at all unnecessary - there is still The Other Room on Tuesday that might be nice to go to. And my birthday a week Saturday.


Although I know I won't keep it when I get back it's been great keeping a diary and not tweeting. There is all the wonder and enchantment you can put in a tweet but you can become a servant to it and it not be as much fun. The diary has become necessary. It's the quantity of new sensations and the desire to share them and figure them out. It would be amazing if life could be like this all the time. Which I think is where the desire to keep travelling comes from for me.



The stupidest fucking musicals on or due to start here. Green Day's American Idiot I already knew about. But Spiderman on Broadway with words and music by Bono and The Edge? Are they for real? The Addams Family seems logical after that. How about 28 Days Later scored by Aerosmith? Deep Throat: The... oh, wait


Small dog straining at lead to get through the door and come into the bar behind a man.



I can't get over how much more relaxed things feel here.


Tuesday seems to have been the day jetlag had its effect. Everything fractured and dopey even though I thought I was doing well. Sunday and Monday were definitely the days for tiredness. But Tuesday nothing made sense.



That said I feel really exhausted now and it's only 10:30.


Didn't mention my biggest anxieties on this trip. That I might turn out not to have the tickets I thought I'd bought. That I wouldn't get to make the trip. That the hostel wouldn't be booked. That I couldn't figure out the transport and I'd miss flights or the performance. Above all losing track of the date or time.



Trying to remember how to make an origami cube for tomorrow's performance. Obviously everything has to be tucked in and you start with a square of paper but beyond that not a clue. The simple way would be to mark a small square inside the larger square at 45º then fold up along these lines and bring the pointed ends over and together at the top then tape them. But that isn't how it's done. It may be similar but you make it flat and then inflate through one of the corners. Nah. A few sketches later I can't remember.


Could check it out online or have a look in a bookstore but I really can't be bothered. A couple of unconnected observations. First the reasons why the American theme bars in Cardiff failed and just looked British the harder they tried is that they were in Wales and full of Welsh and English people. Childishly easy. Without the people and the place it's just a lot of shit stuck up on the walls. Second another thing that took me by surprise because I obviously don't pay attention in movies, I hadn't realised traffic lights here had amber. Albeit only used when stopping traffic.



But generally think another reason I want to go away again is I want things to be more alien, less like anything I already know. The less like home the less I hope I'll feel the need to be the person I grew up as. It'll accelerate the process of becoming warmer and nicer. I hope. Annoying to come this distance and still be the weirdo sat in the corner on my own. Ah, can't worry about it.


[Omitted]




The interesting thing about becoming a new person is how little some things concern me. It's a very efficient way of cutting through the bullshit.


Well that and seeing where it takes me. It's a whole new person to get to know at the same time as breaking out painfully and slowly from the skin of the old person.

Comments

Andrew Taylor said…
A brilliant enjoyable read.
Matt Dalby said…
Thanks, I'm glad it works.

It's a curious experience trying to write something uninhibited and with personal integrity while at the same time knowing you're going to make it public.

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