Unplug: Dare to Live Life Live

I’m the first one to want to tweet and text from the opera. I want to take pics of the impressive velvet curtained proscenium and tweet them. I want to record the orchestra tuning and tweet that too. Maybe I’ll make a little video of the Crazy-Cool Old Lady in the Silver Lamé Pantsuit, or snap one of those two guys who show up in matching black leather get-ups and I’ll upload those to Facebook before the curtain rises. I’ll take an artsy micro-environment pic of my über-fabulous silver tasseled scarf resting against the red velvet of the seats. That’s a good tweet. Then I’ll check and see how many hits my pics got on Twitpic or if anyone retweeted my tweet. Oh, yeah, I am good at this.

So let me say, when it comes to live performance, I am all for classical musicians and performing arts peeps experimenting with non-traditional, unconventional audience practices: twitting, texting, social media connectivity, all before, during and after performances. There are some cats out there working through all of that. The Houston Symphony recently had a “tweetcert”, where the company tweeted program notes during a live performance; the Royal Opera House created an opera from tweets. That’s cool. Go for it, guys.

Wanna know what I think?

The constant, unrelenting, electronic social “connectivity” is gimmicky (certainly when it comes to what arts groups can do with it in a live performance situation) and ultimately only serves to disconnect us from each other and from what’s going on around us in Real Life. And well, it appears that it’s really screwing with our cognitive abilities. Forget The Arts, I’m talking about our brains, people.

The NYTimes recently ran several articles on brain chemistry and the constant tech barrage, and lo and behold! - it seems it might be bad for the ol’ noggin. Are we going to become so ADD from all the tech input and multi-tasking, that we can’t even hold a conversation, much less sit quietly for an hour at a performance?

If we lose the ability pay attention, we lose the ability to experience life.

So, here’s what I’m gonna do:

When you come to a Divergence Vocal Theater performance & social event:

For little you, m’dears,

My artsy conspirators and I create:

• a space to unplug from Digital Life and connect with in-the-flesh human life-forms, tête-à-tête.

• a beep!-bleep!-zing!-ting!-brrrrinnnng!-free environment.

• an update-free, cellphone-free, iPad-free, iPhone-free, Droid-free environment.

• a place where you can relax and escape from the onslaught of emails, texts, tweets, pics of your third cousin’s neighbor’s newborn, and links to hilarious Youtube kitty videos.

Maybe we’ll even make little sockie sleeping bag cozies for your iPhone so it can get some shut-eye.

What then?

We feed your soul with music.

And, yes, you’re very, very welcome. It is, quite seriously, my pleasure.

-Misha

PS - Oh, yeah, of course don’t forget to tweet this and post it to Facebook! :)

The Hazard Factor

I found myself in rehearsal yesterday saying how important I think it is that artists are able to “plug into each other’s work”. In a time when budgets are tight, rehearsals are limited, and creative demands high, a very practical way to address performance-making is to collaborate with artists whose work, independently, is very strong, interesting, and even seemingly incongruent. The incongruence is the exciting ‘hazard factor’ - the wild card that makes the work compelling and dynamic. Autumn Spectre’s elements include the butoh-inspired dance of Toni Valle; the only-Timothy Evers-can-create-this character of a mourning Englishman; the dreamy sitar playing and atmospheric elemental Wind of Aaron Ray Hermes; Megan Reilly’s multimedia and lighting; and the core of the evening: beautiful contemporary art song mediations on loss, death, regret, longing, and hope. These settings of Dickinson, Jonson, Shakespeare, Whitman, Vachel by master composers anchor the performance. The characters’ archetypal quality provide points of navigation, I can simply get out of the way and allow the audience to connect-the-dots of an open and non-linear narrative, hopefully, in ways I had not even thought of.

Autumn Spectre

October 2 & 3, 8pm

First Cumberland Presbyterian Church (River Oaks)

More info here