I stepped into last class expecting more or less what was discussed - one or two performances, followed by discussion, followed by the forever-delayed Robert Wilson video. My attitude was less than stellar - I was tired, hungry, stressed, and wanted the day to be over.
The first thing I noticed upon entering the room was that Devin was wearing earplugs and holding an airhorn. This worried me - as a musician I don't take my hearing for granted - but decided that as long as I had the option to cover my ears there wouldn't be a problem. I sat and waited for everyone to arrive, the initial class announcements, and the performance to begin.
The first fifteen minutes of the reading was fascinating to me on many levels. I wondered about Devin's intent, whether there would be a change, and the role of the airhorn, which was sitting on the floor. I watched the class's reaction as they pondered similar questions. Some initial restlessness grew and faded as realization dawned that the piece wasn't ending anytime soon, and we all seemed to lean back in our chairs and relax.
It was at this point that my thoughts began to drift. The quietly-spoken, random words took on a sort of trance-inducing rhythm, and my thoughts wandered far away from the building. At first the threat of the airhorn kept me at least semi-present, but after another thirty or so minutes I forgot even about that.
I never actually fell asleep, but I was deeply daydreaming. Over an hour into the performance and I decided to check the time on my phone, which snapped me back to reality. The dynamic in the room had changed - it seemed everyone's attention was much more fixed on Devin than before. I realized that there was some form of tension - had he made a motion I had missed? I watched, and not long after he made a false reach toward the airhorn, and the tension increased even more. While I was lost in my own thoughts, a hostage situation had developed.
For me, I was being kept not only from leaving, in fear of setting off the airhorn, but also from losing focus, in case I missed my chance to cover my ears. I followed Joe's direction and preemptively stuck my fingers in - I did not want to be caught off guard. I noticed at this point Devin seemed to get more uncomfortable - the tension was switching to the other side. Now the audience was expecting something, was acting slightly irritated, and Devin was in response acting more uncomfortable - speeding up, making faces, not hiding the struggle it was becoming to continue. Not long after, the airhorn went off, Daryl left the room, and the mood shifted yet again.
After the airhorn blasts I made a decision. The piece was fascinating, but I realized that it was unlikely to end. I gave it a few more minutes to see if a big finish was coming, and when the feeling of the room fell back to it's previous place, I left. Part of me was driven for the need to use the restroom, and the other part of me was tired of sitting, and afraid of missing the next use of the airhorn.
A while later the class convened in the hallway. Corinne was irritated about not being able to do her performance, and was encouraged to do it anyway. She took off, and we discussed the piece. It was decided that it was unlikely to end within the class period, but our discussions of leaving were cut short when we realized that Corinne was performing.
Corinne's destruction of the pumpkin became much more interesting as a contrast to Devin than a performance itself. The mess, the colors, and jagged and violent actions were a fantastic foil to calming repetition. She was obviously driven by anger at not getting to perform the way she wanted to, but it added a new dimension to Devin's work by forcing him into the background - his endurance, while impressive, was becoming part of the wall, something less noticed than used as a frame of reference. This continued with Daryl's recitations, even moreso - I was now paying attention almost fully to Daryl, and Devin's presence I only noticed once or twice as an amusement.
After all the action, when things returned normal, I was suddenly bored. I barely noticed Devin - he had become part of the wall, and I felt as if I was sitting in an empty room. I thought of the waiting rooms in Doctor's offices. This turned from boring to stressful, as I was now thinking about everything I had to do outside of class. With one last glace at Professor Gort (who had obviously long since decided to not give any indication), I left.
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