(in)visible cities thank-you's

Rapporteur/blogger Jeanne Randolph spotted at the Little Saigon panel. Photo by Scott Stephens.

(in)visible cities performance festival would like to thank:

* our enthusiastic, engaged and supportive audiences and workshop participants,

* Jeanne Randolph and Scott Stephens for their insightful blog texts and photos,

* Shawna Dempsey, Lorri Millan, Kim Kozzi, Dai Skuse, Jessica Thompson, Nhan Duc Nguyen and Cheryl L'Hirondelle for their engaging and intelligent performances, workshops and conversations,

* Little Saigon Restaurant (Ho Thi Thanh Huong), The Kensington Building (Leo Cholakis), the Winnipeg Film Group, and Canadian Goodwill Industries Corp., for their generous support of contemporary live art, 

* our funders:  the Winnipeg Arts Council’s Downtown Festival Grant Program, the Manitoba Arts Council, the Canada Council for the Arts and the Department of Canadian Heritage,

* the hardworking and brilliant staff and members of aceartinc., Plug In ICA, Urban Shaman Gallery, and Video Pool Media Arts Centre,

* Graham Mockford, videographer and production assistant,

* Susan Chafe, programme designer

(in)visible cities BLOG DAY FOUR

(in)visible cities  BLOG DAY FOUR

Report by Jeanne Randolph

Photos by Scott Stephens

Cheryl L’Hirondelle’s performance was bestowed upon us Saturday night, September 13th. Blankets on the floor were the best seats in the house, and the house we saw was a translucent tent glowing as subtle as white moth wings.

Human eyes and ears can detect subtlety quite well, if given the opportunity. And this opportunity Cheryl generously embodied. The sounds in which we were immersed included her own singing; her shadow moved and danced and walked around, and when Cheryl herself moved and danced and walked around she was as gentle as a shadow.

And there was no false purity. A plastic toy or two, a red plastic drinking cup, a microphone punctuated the simplicity of the scene; Cheryl herself in a beige Ladies’ foundation garment, barefoot in her running shoes,

as dusk gives way to stars
as stars glisten
and dissolve
as squirrel’s tail twinkles,
then curls
she sang,
as a human, a forest
a gale offshore
a hooty owl
another and another,
moving foreign and familiar
mischievous, kind.......

The invisible blogger leaves the scene, grateful that so many people can perform so generously, delightfully, wisely with all the (in)visible cities crew; thanks.

(in)visible cities BLOG DAY 2

Nhan Duc Nguyen installs "Heyseeds" at Little Saigon restaurant.

(in)visible cities BLOG DAY 2

Friday 12 September 2008

Report by Jeanne Randolph, Photographs by Scott Stephens

The Little Saigon restaurant on William Street here in Winnipeg is, like the best of Winnipeg, unpretentious. As I walked toward the entrance, my first impression was that the restaurant was not open; it looked kinda dark in there and no one was sitting at the tables by the window.

And then, the tell-tale signal – the sound of laughter, clinking glass and music hovering above the murmur of mingled greetings and conversation.

I entered the aquamarine room and hugged my way through the crowd of friends and friendly faces. There were two prominent features of the environment, Nhan Duc Nguyen’s artworks on the walls and the chandeliers. The artworks were heartbreakingly subtle, gentle but in no way saccharine. No one except a true poet should be allowed to describe them. They deserve careful studious appreciation and afterwards more conversation. Well there was a third feature – I was so hungry my attention swerved toward a huge serving platter of sweet-fried chicken chunks mingled with red bell peppers in a glistening blood-scarlet sauce. I sat down with a plate of this yummy concoction on my lap and gobbled, using chopsticks and my ballpoint pen.

It’s preferable to enjoy alcoholic beverages while imbibing the intellectual delights of a panel discussion. The lighthearted brain fizz inspires convivial attention and unhinges the imagination. Tipsiness prevents audience passivity, because this event did not last beyond the equivalent of two ounces of hard liquour.

I have no intention of providing a synopsis of each artist’s presentation. I am committed to the idea that if you aren’t there it is better to have a conversation with someone who was. This position is in keeping with the modus operandi of each of the presenters, which included Cheryl L’Hirondelle, Nhan Duc Nguyen, the Dempsey/Millan duo, and FASTWÜRMS.

The ideas offered included:

“Empathy can create positive change;”

“Communal meals can enact how categories and boundaries are not the only reality;”

“An art practice that values labour, no matter how subtle that labour, can serve as a diplomatic exchange between all us hostages of Capitalism;”

“Experience can be shared without translation into English;”

“The performer-audience divide is unnecessary;”

“Art is NOT SOCIAL WORK;”

“Harming an institution or a system that objectifies people is not the same as harming people.”

“Artist-as-amateur can’t lord it over the audience.”

Or to interpret this event in my own shrill voice:

Maybe professionalism stinks.

Maybe teacherless learning is more effective.

Maybe competition is stupid.

Maybe creativity emerges equally from the audience and the artist;

Maybe creativity emerges from exchange just as floridly as from solitude;

Maybe we can keep ourselves vigilant down to the last nuance in pursuit of inclusivity.

Day 2: Performance and Activism in Everyday Life

Photographs by Scott Stephens.