sad people dance too.

last weekend, i attended late nite at pillsbury house theatre, which is hands down the best deal in town. for $5 (student rate, but they are so kind, they don’t even card you), you get a homecooked meal and a ton of stellar (and some less than stellar) performances. it’s always nice for me to go and see an intergenerational and multiracial crowd, and more often than not, someone there to give me a ride home (thanks lindsey!) some may describe the twin cities arts scene as insular, but i like to think of it as homey. though we couldn’t stay till the very end (late nite = 8pm to midnight = past my bedtime), we did catch some cool acts worth mentioning.

one.

bill cottman and j. otis powell staged an in-progress work about jazz. i don’t know much about jazz, and have only heard of coltrane, not yet listened to him, but i do know that i love music and people. both cottman and powell are programmers at kfai, and the set-up had cottman at a desk with headphones and a mic, smooth-talking on the air. i have had enough shows at macalester’s wmcn to know that i don’t necessarily want to have a regular dj show (too much stress and awkwardness), but i would like to posts a few playlists here and there, or dream up some mixes every now and then. it’s like how i don’t necessarily want to be an academic as my day-to-day, but still have life-long intellectual engagements.

for an autobiographical exercise, i wrote about my musical progression, which began with me absorbing my brothers and sister’s music, before getting into my own style via obsessive internet downloading. music is where i find my ego. i listen mostly to women, of color and queer, and sometimes there is a venn diagram with overlaps, but not often.

two.

aniccha arts had two dance pieces, which were beautiful and moving and inspiring and lovely. since living in the twin cities, i have had the opportunity to consume much dance theatre, at macalester and in the community, but i still find myself at a lost when processing it all and grasping at language to describe what i see and felt. i also hardly ever know what the gestures represent or mean, if anything, if everything. i have to really focus, and sometimes i get lost and then it’s over and have to pretend i know what happened when people talk about it afterward. all i know is that i love it when bodies move together, when you can see labor and love collide. make babies maybe on the floor.

i also love multimedia and intermedia. there was a screen with projected digital images that somehow felt organic and moved about so, growing and dying, and jumping about. there was play with layers and bodies and desire. i believe in postmodernism, and i believe it is about movement.

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