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The Dresden Dolls show 11/9/2004 4:54:51 PM
Opening for the Dresden Dolls. There are photographs of my performance at
http://www.smoe.org/jeffw/gallery-new/dresden_dolls_avalon-2004-10-30_people?page=3
Saturday, October 30th, 2004:
I first heard the Dresden Dolls while sitting on one of Amanda Palmer's bureaus as she played piano in one corner of her bedroom while Brian Vigilione played drums in another corner along with a dozen or so other crammed in one nook or cranny at some party in 2000 or 2001. I was immediately taken by the songwriting and the unusual instrumentation. I also kept coming back because Amanda threw the best parties.
Now it is 2004 and the Dresden Dolls are the best known band in Boston, have videos on MTV, and are on a national tour with a brief hometown stopover. I'm scheduled as one of the acts for the evening's show of music and performance.
I walk from Kenmore Square station towards Landsdowne Street, going against the flow of Red Sox fans leaving Fenway Park. I spot two teenage goth girls getting out of a car, looking a bit bewildered. They must be headed to the same place. I nod hello to them and they ask me about human statues. I listen for what sounds like the Dresden Dolls doing a sound check and intuitively yank on a rope that opens a door that leads from the wet sidewalk to the Avalon Ballroom’s load in area. It's a huge room and I hadn't been in it since seeing Patti Smith on her 2000 Gung Ho tour. I take in the sights and search for whomever is in the know but not otherwise occupied with the soundcheck.
I find Whitney setting up the merchandise table in the lobby. I'm not clear as to her exact job description, but she has been with the tour all along and it was her call for artists to which I had responded. She is helped by Clara, a local performer who is acting to coordinate the other local performers. Whitney has the tour hell story of having her cell phone stolen the night before in New York and having to hit the road at some ungodly hour just to load in at Avalon before Lansdowne street is filled with celebrating Red Sox fans-- on the other hand Whit seems to have good humor about the whole thing and on yet another hand (the one not holding my makeup kit) I might be misremembering the chronology of her story.
I am ushered to the changing room which is shared between Avalon and the adjoining nightclub, Axis. The changing room is huge, and used to be the secondary dance floor for Axis-- it still has its own bar and a DJ booth. I'm stretching in preparation and beginning my costume changes. Turns out that we're sharing the floor with the bands performing downstairs at Axis that night, The Subhumans and Toxic Narcotic. As I apply the third layer of clown white on my face, Amanda stops by to tell me I "look mimey." I make small talk with one of the guys in Toxic Narcotic, who seems bewildered by all the young women in lace and powdered faces and a mime in spandex and stripes.
Count Zero goes on first on the main stage, I do the "wandering performer" bit, doing a slow stylized walk through the crowd, taking a moment to observe something, stopping under a spot light on the dance floor and performing such Decroux figures as "drinking a glass in 26 moves" and the variations on "prise et pose." I look at the various living statues, hoping to play some variant of the scene from "City Lights" in which the Tramp admires the nude statue in the window. Most of the statues are standing still, maybe even look fetching in their costumes but have undynamic poses, as if they thought it would be cool to be a statue without thought of what to do once on the podium. However, I come upon Clara, in a silver gown and silvery makeup with a silvery parasol.
Clara has taken a dyanmic pose, holding her arms out as if frozen while in motion. It takes strength and gives the illusion of the incomplete movement. I begin to study her in my white face persona, she begins to move in response. Soon, we are improvising together in a strange dance with sudden starts and stops with her on her podium and me below her. It becomes one of a number of improvisations we share that night-- she is the only one I come upon with whom I can work.
After Count Zero is done with their set, the MC returns to the stage, tells a dirty limerick and introduces me. The spotlight comes down onto the side stage where I have been standing in first position for the last few minutes. I take a bow and the music comes on. I begin the first gestures of "The Argument" which has been retitled "The Debate" given that this gig is but days before the election. "The Argument" began as a structured improvisation between William J. Barnum and myself from the early version of the Cosmic Spelunker Theater show, "Give and Take" in which we each become advocates of a different sort of movement. I would advocate precise rectilinear motions (usually parallel or perpendicular to the floor and Bill would advocate wild curvilinear motions. Soon, we would care less for who was right than who could dominate the stage and some slapstick violence would ensue-- this was meant as a parody of James Van Looy's poem "What Money Means to Me" which James would read from a podium. Later on, I would develop it into a solo piece in which I would play both characters. The last time I had performed it on the stage was at All Asia Café where a chortling man in the audience thanked me after the show in the unmodulated speaking voice of the deaf, telling me that he understood every word of it.
I had prepared myself to perform to the Raymond Scott composition "The Tobacco Auctioneer" but given that the one recording I had of that song was too short, I asked a friend to burn a CD with two copies of "The Tobacco Auctioneer" back to back. However, things don't always go as planned.
My friend thought it was a waste to have a CD-R with only two songs on it, so he replicated the entire disc with that one track duplicated and had not told me that was what he had done, so when the CD began, it began with Duke Ellington's "The Dicty Glide"-- an entirely different song. Thankfully, the rhythms were easily adaptable and the show went on. I looked out and saw that I was performing before what looked to be a crowd of six hundred. I heard a few bursts of laughter under the music as one of my persona proceeds to lampoon the other and the other would escalate to pushing until reaching a point where one seems ready to pummel the other. The music ended at that point, which worked perfectly for me. I was on for less that four minutes, but sometimes that's all one needs.
I was followed by a "Human Puppet Show" which had been enthusiastically put together less in a rehearsal room than on the Dresden Dolls Brigade forum. The basic concept was that some performers were strung like marionettes to control sticks held by "puppeteers" standing on milk crates while a narrator read from Edward Gorey. I liked the concept, and there were definitely some enjoyable moments, but given my being a technician, I kept thinking about what I would have done if I had directed the group. Afterwards I moved into the crowd and soon after, the Tiger Lilies hit the stage.
I again move through the crowd and find an androgynous young person in a bowler cap flirting with me for the amusement of his or her companions. My new friend provides narration as we enact a doomed romance which ends with a broken, bent legged walk away from my beloved, at which point, some observer of the drama notes my spandex pants and loudly states, "That mime has a really tight ass!"
I enjoy the Tiger Lilies a lot-- they are something of a cabaret trio whom I had never heard before. Next comes a physical theater piece performed by a troupe of teenagers from Lexington High School-- Amanda's alma mater. She's used her new found star status to support the arts program there. The piece is ever so dramatic as one might expect from such a young ensemble, but it is clear that they rehearse with one another a lot and have strong rapport with one another, and though I am watching from the wings, I can see that they follow through with their premise.
The Dresden Dolls come on stage dressed as Sonny and Cher and open with a cover of "I've got you, babe" only to follow with a striptease down to matching lace panties, hose, garters, and electrical tape over the nipples only to dress up again in matching Britney Speers outfits which results in their next cover of "Hit me Baby, One more Time." Finally they change into their normal stage costume and make up and play their own music. Near the end I have another flirtatious dance with a young woman dressed up as a nineteen teens tomboy. Her make up reminds me of Mabel Normand in the old Keystone films and when she gifts me with a flower, I am inspired to play coy, turning in my knees and twisting my arms as if overcome with affection.
It turns out to be a fun gig and after getting out of costume, Clara and I share a good talk about what did and didn't work before we head to Kenmore Square and catch our respective rides home.
The next day is Halloween and on Monday, I begin rehearsals with Bread & Puppet.
