2/29/2004
Went to see Heloise Gold's dance performance at Deep Listening Space. I feel very enriched and humbled.
When I first walked in, there was a free form (I think) percussion performance in progress. A woman (I think) in about mid 50's, with frizzy hair hanging all over her face and dark glasses, looking like shorter and grayer Joey Ramones, was banging on the drum set like there is no tomorrow. If this was in New York and I was ten years younger, I would've rolled my eyes and walked out. But tonight, I was so happy I started to giggle. There were about ten people in the audience, most of whom being big earth mothers in the 60's and above, intent with either eyes closed or a drilling gaze. Wow. It was like coming home. I may be naive, but that was what I imagined New York to be like in the '60s or '70s.
When I first arrived in New York in 1987, the art scene was so so uptight. There always seemed to be a silent code you had to follow wherever you went. Or maybe it was my age. Maybe it's that I'm finally old enough not to be embarrassed easily.
It wasn't that the performance was so great, but that didn't matter. The fact that the artist was performing, and the audience was listening, that was good enough to make me want to cry. On the waterfront of Kingston, to boot.
This was a part of the closing reception for the show that was up. I hung around for an hour before the dance (during which my NYU classmate from 15 years ago recognized me which is another thing that transported me to the younger time).
Heloise's performance was divided into three distinct parts. She is a petite woman in the 50's (again!) with a very warm smile. The second piece, DreamBirds, combined dance movement, vocal effects and digital sounds that each on its own resembled so remarkably that of birds, but together composed a flowing art work. It was obvious she had spent much much time fine-tuning each element, and it was also obvious she was not making big bucks doing that. And she was obviously very happy. There you have it. That is the place I'm entering, and she made me realize I have a long way to go, and that there is no reason what so ever to pity myself. I like that.
The third piece, Nourishment, was performed with her eyes closed with a blind partner, with Pauline Oliveros playing the accordion with her eyes also closed. She invited us to open and close our eyes as we please. It was a perfect way to end the perfect night.
Pauline is the founder of the Pauline Oliveros Foundation and Deep Listening Space. A stocky woman with shining silver hair and a firm yet accessible expression, she reminds me of Bob Blackburn. Yes, there is still hope in art, and therefore in the world.
3:02:48 AM 
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