Monday, May 24, 2010

vogue part 3: parkour

So I think parkour is awesome. Plus it's a great way to talk about frame in a setting that isn't on a screen with that built-in frame. (remember how these were about frame? yeah it's a thing.)

Here are two videos of a parkour group called Physical Graffiti.



What I think is so great about parkour is that it takes the rigid environment of a cityscape, with its buildings and railings and hard edges and corners and geometry and what not, and overlays fluid lines and movement, it gives it an energy and life that ordinarily one doesn't associate with such a landscape. It turns the whole city into a playground. I feel like Buster Keaton would be on a parkour team if such things existed then. Have I mentioned I'm a little crazy for Buster Keaton?

The thing about playgrounds, too, is that they're designed to have such movement occur on them, it's encouraged with its crazy shapes and and colors. Even just the look of an empty playground is active and inviting, not lifeless and heavy. You see things on playgrounds where it's not even clear about how you're supposed to use them because there isn't one way, you're supposed to play and climb on them how you want.

I wish I had the ability to see the world, the everyday business boring practical world, like that. It's probably why I like site specific performance, since that's essentially what that is. If I had the strength and total lack of concern for my physical well being I'd give parkour a shot.

I'm also totally impressed at the precision it requires. Especially when they make huge jumps and land on a very small spot. It's so clean, not flailing around or struggling to maintain balance, they just...stop. And they practice, making sure to get the proper height or distance so they don't fall and die, and then they can embellish where they feel like it. And they train so they can get to the point of just playing and knowing instinctively how much power to give it.

And you know I say that it's a thing we can talk about regarding frame without a screen but parkour videos are a big part of the deal. On Mtv's Ultimate Parkour Challenge the first half of the competition has been to make a video of their team on the course and they're judged on not just the actual parkour that appears in the video but the way it's shot, the angles, the editing and everything else. And that makes sense really, videos are an easy way to gain exposure and visibility with such a great network like Youtube at your disposal. Again, maybe I'm late to the game on that but it wasn't something I realized.

And I do really like the videos Physical Graffiti makes, they always pick great music and have great editing and a just a great eye for how to put everything together.

Speaking of Mtv's Ultimate Parkour Challenge, I gotta tell ya, it's great that the sport can get such widespread recognition by taking the sport and putting it into a more conventional sports tv show format, but I think makes for pretty deadly television. That Andy Bell is one uncharismatic personality. To me it takes the worst things of sports shows- the commentary, the parts where people who don't know how to talk try and ask the competitors how they felt- and paired it with a sport that doesn't follow the same set up as organized sports. There are no calls to feel one way or another about, no technicalities to call someone on and you can't really cheat.

This is all just talking around the point though. I wish I could speak more articulately about what makes parkour great but really I don't know enough about it to go into more detail. I think parkour's really cool and I'm glad it's getting the exposure it deserves. And ultimately I think it can speak for itself.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

The head of a dead cat

I was listening to this lecture by Alan Watts, who's a lecturer, interpreter of Zen Buddhism, philosophy and theology and what not in case you didn't know, about the idea of the Self as Play. It's a really interesting lecture that meanders a bit but I'll see if I can summarize some of the points he was making, at least the points that piqued my interest. He said that the Self and all that is is maia and that maia is an illusion, so therefore the Self is an illusion. And as an illusion, it serves no direct purpose, it doesn't work or try, but instead it plays. In fact the Japanese would say that someone doesn't die, they play at dying.

He continues on saying that because the Self is an illusion it's pointless to try and figure out what one's Self is. It's only when we stop trying to figure out what our Self is that our Self does us any good; when we stop and let it play. In my imagining of this idea, if we were to try and determine the Self, one could only discover oneself in letting it do and be, rather than trying to force it to be something we've decided it IS or should be.

Naturally this leads me to think of clowning. for a change. I'm thinking again of the argument between clown as free form playing and improvised self-expression vs. plans, practice and routines. I've already said here that I'm an advocate for the latter, I just find it more personally satisfying and I think modern clowns discount its benefits. You need to get from A to B...but how you get there is where you can play. I might say though, as one who believes in the clown as more than just a thing you do but a thing you are, that to discover oneself AS clown through play is totally valid.

Still with me? ok, moving on.

He also says that measurements are an illusion since, essentially, they are. They aren't a concrete thing ("you don't see inches lying around") but in fact they're "elaborate systems of cosmic bookkeeping."

So I was thinking about this idea of measurement as illusion in two particular senses. One, in terms of performance. I took a class a little while back called Scripts and Scores (I feel like I may have mentioned it here before but I can't remember). If I can insult my teacher and summarize that too, the class was about creating performance of a dance/theatre variety and the ways in which we record it. As in, how do you represent the performance to someone else in a physical form for them to use as a guide? do you draw stick people dancing around? Do you set it up with panels like a comic strip breaking down each step? Do you write it out like a screenplay with who says what, what each scene looks like, etc.? Do you make a box with strips of paper and pull them out randomly? Is the box itself the recording? Often it seemed like the recordings were just as important as the actual performance. At the time it just felt frustrating to find creative ways to represent what we were doing since I would find a system that worked and just wanted to work on the performance, not spend time making its record interesting to look at, too.

Today, after the fact, I can appreciate the value of doing this, and it led me to think about the fact that the ways in which you record something, commit it to paper or whatever, deal with what the performance essentially IS. what IS movement? what IS sound? Do I need to draw movement lines around a stick person or put in sound effects a la Batman? If I wanted to represent long pauses would I need to draw the figures with lots of space in between? And then would I need a key in the corner to make myself understood?

Now this is great for a class in which we're encouraged to represent abstract ideas, like movement and sound, in new and creative ways but what if we applied this to other things in the world? What if quarterly reports came in expressive paintings or fortune cookie fortunes taped to oranges? No interpretive dance, though. I'm tired of that joke.

unrelated story, my friend once wanted to advertise for our school's literary magazine by writing the name on little rubber bouncy balls and throwing them down a hallway. If it wasn't such a blatant safety hazard it would be the way I advertise for everything I'm a part of.

Anyway.

So the other way in which I'm thinking about the illusion of measurement is what if we applied this to ourselves? What do we each measure our lives in? and yes, we could get all RENT about it and measure in love and whatever, or we could put on our big girl panties and actually think about it seriously. I'd say I probably measure mine in cups of tea, moments of stillness, days my hair looks good, laughing, and muffins. Although muffins would be a greater measurement, one I wouldn't expect to occur as often. Like a year.

So as always, onwards and upwards. It's really exciting to read and listen to ideas that can apply to performance and art and creation as much as it applies to life. You should all check out Alan Watts too, he has a lot to say about everything. And he says it well.

And if you stuck around til now, here's something for your troubles.

Monday, May 3, 2010

no matter how much you push the envelope it will still remain stationary

For all the well thoughtout, thoroughly researched, expertly crafted pieces of brilliant and moving artwork out there, sometimes there's nothing better than a well-executed tribute to the rockettes performed for people who already love you. good times.


think cold thoughts.

water that is filtered drunk with ice cubes made with not filtered water is gross.