twi-ny talks

TWI-NY TALK: CANDIDATE

Brooklyn-based Candidate will be celebrating Valentine’s Day at Mercury Lounge

Tuesday, February 14, Mercury Lounge, $10, 9:30
Monday, February 27, Spike Hill, free, 8:00
www.candidatesound.com

Brooklyn-based trio Candidate embraces four decades of American and British rock and roll and wraps it up in a sweet little twenty-first-century indie package. Guitarists Laurence Adams and Cedric Sparkman, who hail from Hazard, Kentucky, bonded over a Smiths album and eventually went on to form the Poor Richards. They soon added Cincinnati native Jason Matuskiewicz, who learned the bass for their new trio, Varsovia. The band changed its name to Candidate and played its first show ever in their original hometown of Lexington, Kentucky, in November 2010, followed seven months later by the release of its debut disc, A New Life, a delightful collection of pop hooks that includes such infectious songs as “I’d Come Running” and “Never Get Enough.”

Not to be confused with the UK band of the same name, Candidate then moved to Brooklyn, where it is currently putting the finishing touches on its sophomore effort, which features a dramatic leap forward on such powerful tunes as “April Again,” “Brutal,” and the horn-laden “NYC or Bust,” on which Sparkman declares, “One day I will die / and wish I’d given it a try / I will not just survive / I will thrive / So as fast as I can run / You will see me, here I come.” Hot on the heels of its February 3 appearance at the Cameo Gallery, Candidate is coming to Mercury Lounge on Valentine’s Day, playing with Brother Reverend, followed by a free gig at Spike Hill on February 27 with I Anthem, American Restless, and the Matt Albeck Group. Matuskiewicz, who handles much of the band’s blogging, recently discussed Brooklyn, bromance, earboners, and more in our latest twi-ny talk.

twi-ny: You recently moved from Lexington, Kentucky, to Brooklyn. How is the Borough of Kings treating you?

Candidate: We love it!!! Laurence and I live on the outskirts, near the Wastes, at the border of Midgar and Megaton. So, we get to lug our gear around after forever-long train rides on the Killer L, hoping its robot overlords are not particularly displeased with humanity that day — if its running at all. Our building was billed as containing “artist’s lofts,” but they forgot to append “with forever leaking ceilings” to their description of these fine abodes. And yet, with all that being true, it is still incredible to be here. We’ve met a lot of really great people, ridiculously talented musicians, and gotten a drummer [Chris Infusino] who is a real live music professional.

twi-ny: You played your second New York City gig ever at Cameo Gallery in Brooklyn on February 3 as part of Amy Grimm’s Whatever Blog Party. How did that come about?

Candidate: Superproducer (and genius) Justin Craig played a DJ set with his cohort, Jesse Elliott, both of rock supergroup These United States, while we were recording our new album. He introduced us to Amy at the show. After that we followed up with her with what I am sure was a super-professional introduction that probably didn’t contain any quotes along the lines of “if after listening to this you wonder how it is possible to pee on yourself and have a boner at the same time, please know that it is because the source of these jams is real-life heartbreak, by far the greatest source of earboners in the history of the world.”

Candidate will break out their new songs at a pair of upcoming local shows

twi-ny: Did the show live up to that hard-to-top introduction?

Candidate: The show was incredible. Big shout-out to the Yoni Gordon Orchestra, Elliot and the Ghost, and Howth, all of whom put on a great show.

Our new album is much more lush in terms of production than the first one, so for the live setting the new songs were stripped down and much more raw than their recorded counterparts. I’m told by the aforementioned genius, Justin Craig, that the crowd was feeling us, but I felt as if there was some confusion in the audience. Here is my impression of their internal monologue: “Uhm. Why are these dudes throwing their instruments around, and why is their singer running around like a crazed maniac, and what are these ‘feelings’ and these ‘emotions’ they seem to exude? Why, I don’t think these songs are winking at me at all!!! Swoon.” So, we were a little bit more sloppy than normal, but full of energy.

twi-ny: As you mentioned, your upcoming record is indeed more lush, with a bigger, broader sound than A New Life. Craig played on the previous album, but now he’s behind the boards. What were the recording sessions like?

Candidate: Despite being behind the boards, Justin played more parts on the new record than the last one. The sessions were great. We recorded the album at Translator Audio in Park Slope. It was engineered by Andrew Gerhan, who also plays in the Lupine Chorale Society, with Adam Arcuragi — who also happens to be pretty great. The people at Translator were very helpful. So, I want to thank them for that.

As you can tell from the previous answer, I have mixed feelings about Mr. Craig’s abilities. I jest. He’s amazing. The sessions followed a pretty traditional method of recording. Drums first, then bass, then guitar, keyboard, found sounds, and vocal overdubs from my dog, Lu-Lu. And of course, no song is complete until something is pitch shifted. Justin brought a lot of ideas to the songs. They were pretty uniformly great ideas. Beware: Trite musical comparison ahead. I would liken Justin’s role to that of Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois’s role in the production of U2 albums. He had a very large part in shaping the sound of the album.

Allow me to digress a bit. With the last one, we were very purposefully 100% independent, and not at all self-righteous about it. Just kidding; we were a tiny bit self-righteous about it. We were enamored with the idea that, given the reach of the internet and what have you, it is viable to be totally independent and do everything yourself. It isn’t. What you wind up doing is creating an organizational structure that mimics a label, which you pay for out of pocket, or you neglect integral functions because you just don’t have enough time to do everything. For instance, Laurence and I have been planning on doing a self-administered college radio campaign for a while. There is, however, no way for us to update our list of program directors that will not take about twenty hours. Seriously. So, we’re probably more proud than we should be with what we’ve managed to do with no publicist, no label, nothing but ourselves. But we’re ready to move on from that. We’ve recently signed on some licensing reps, so if we can get some of that sweet, sweet corporate cash, we’ll put that to some good, tirelessly self-promotional enterprise. We’ve also been talking to some labels about the album a bit. Plus, we’ve sent off some exemplar tracks to labels that still accept unsolicited demos. (Labels that still do this, thank you for not being stuck-up douches.) So, we’ll see what happens. I’m hoping sooner than later, but I am prepared to exercise a novel virtue — patience.

twi-ny: You’ll be at Mercury Lounge on Valentine’s Day, promising “an evening of romance and bromance.” Got anything special planned for that?

Candidate: Anytime the fellas in Candidate get together, there is more than enough bromance to go around. The excellent folks in Brother Reverend are giving away a special limited edition collector’s item in the form a fantastic T-shirt to commemorate the occasion. Plus, our first album, A New Life, is “pay what you want” on Bandcamp until after the show — meaning that it is essentially free, if you want it to be. We’re also playing a bunch of the new songs, which is always very exciting.

TWI-NY TALK: DAN EFRAM — BRIAN ENO’S “HERE COME THE WARM JETS” LIVE

Joe’s Pub
425 Lafayette St.
Sunday, January 8, $15, 9:30
212-967-7555
www.joespub.com
www.facebook.com

Brian Eno might be best known today for such ambient albums as Music for Films and Music for Airports and his production work for a diverse range of artists (U2, David Bowie, Talking Heads, Laurie Anderson, Coldplay), but in the 1970s he made a series of seminal records that served as a kind of bridge between glam and prog rock and avant and experimental pop. After three years as a member of Roxy Music, Eno released the solo LPs Here Come the Warm Jets, Taking Tiger Mountain (by Strategy), Another Green World, and Before and After Science, all within a remarkable four-year period. On January 8 at Joe’s Pub, a group of musicians will gather together to pay tribute to Here Come the Warm Jets by doing something that Eno never did: Play every song from the album live. Initiated by recording engineer Rob Christiansen, produced by Dan Efram, and hosted by WNYC’s John Schaefer, the event features an all-star band consisting of Vernon Reid, Travis Morrison, Sohrab Habibion, Paul Duncan, Joan Wasser, Dom Cipolla, and others re-creating Eno’s masterpiece, which was recorded with such guest musicians as Robert Fripp, Chris Spedding, Phil Manzanera, John Whetton, and Andy Mackay. The scorching guitars of “Baby’s on Fire” and “Blank Frank,” the electronic fun of “The Paw Paw Negro Blowtorch” and “Driving Me Backwards,” and the sweet harmonies of “Cindy Tells Me” and “Some of Them Are Old” should fill Joe’s Pub with beautiful sounds, but don’t look for important messages in the lyrics, about which Eno, who came up with the words via scatlike nonsense syllables, has said, “Essentially all these songs have no meaning that I invested in them.” In preparation for what should be a great night, we’ve been listening to Here Come the Warm Jets repeatedly, just as we did in our college years, taking us back and lifting us away all over again. Efram, the founder and president of Tractor Beam and an adjunct professor at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, also has been having a blast with the record, as evidenced by this twi-ny talk.

twi-ny: What kind of personal associations do Here Come the Warm Jets and Brian Eno have for you?

Dan Efram: My first introduction to Eno was through his production work and only then became aware of his ambient compositions — à la Music for Airports and Music for Films. It was only when I started studying audio engineering myself that some of my musician friends turned me on to Here Come the Warm Jets, Taking Tiger Mountain, and Another Green World. Finding out that he had these extremely broad sensibilities was fascinating — with Warm Jets perhaps the most whimsical ear candy that I had come across.

twi-ny: So many amazing musicians played on the original record; how did you come up with the lineup that will be at Joe’s Pub? How closely will they be re-creating HCTWJ?

Dan Efram: Rob Christiansen, the musical director and a terrific, knowledgeable musician and engineer in his own right, has done a great job in trying to analyze the sounds of the original album. He’s taken great pains in order to figure out the sounds on the album, when the band should experiment and when to replicate. This balance is fun to watch!

We chose our lineup with the goal to represent the many different generations of musicians that are hardcore fans of the album and wanted to celebrate this album in the best spirit possible. As a coincidence, we realized that its fortieth anniversary was nearing and that we could help celebrate its legacy by giving fans this unique chance to experience it for themselves in a live setting. We can only hope that those in attendance get as much of a kick out of listening to it live as the musicians will have performing it for them.

twi-ny: Are there other classic albums, either by Eno or other artists, that you might want to tackle next?

Dan Efram: In early 2011, I was fortunate to produce Big Star’s Third/Sister Lovers album live with musical director Chris Stamey, which really introduced me to the idea that some of these wonderful albums could have a life beyond their vinyl grooves, that people really wanted to experience some of these adventurous albums live — if the program was approached with the correct spirit. If all goes well on Sunday, we are hoping to try to perform Here Come the Warm Jets in selected markets in North America and Europe in 2013. With some good fortune, we have a shot.

TWI-NY TALK: GRINGO STAR

Gringo Star rocks out at Fontana’s at the 2010 CMJ Music Marathon (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

Thursday, December 1, Mercury Lounge, 217 East Houston St., $10-$12, 7:30
Saturday, December 3, Cameo Gallery, 93 North Sixth St., $8, 8:00
www.gringostar.net

On the second song on their sophomore album, Count Yer Lucky Stars (Gigantic Music, October 2011), Atlanta band Gringo Star proclaims, “You want it,” followed on the next tune by “You got it.” Originally known as A Fir-Ju-Well, Pete DeLorenzo and brothers Pete and Nicholas Furgiuele have been delivering great music since 2001. They added Matt McCalvin and became Gringo Star in 2007, and the next year their self-released debut, All Y’all (My Anxious Mouth, November 2008), was making a major impact on the indie music scene. Their 2009 tour of Europe was captured in Justin Malone’s 2011 documentary Hurry Up and Wait, and the band, with Chris Kaufmann replacing McCalvin, are back on the road again, supporting Count Yer Lucky Stars, an infectious collection of such 1950s- and ’60s-infused nuggets as “Shadow,” “Beatnik Angel Georgie,” “Jessica,” and “Light in the Sky,” featuring lilting harmonies, jangling guitars, and classic pop melodies. Gringo Star will be playing Mercury Lounge on December 1 with J. Roddy Walston & the Business and Gunfight and Cameo Gallery in Williamsburg on December 3 with Hammer No More the Fingers and Bird Hand. With their latest tour winding down, Nick took some time to answer some questions about the past, present, and future of the band.

twi-ny: It’s been three years between the initial release of All Y’all and Count Yer Lucky Stars. Why so much time between records?

Gringo Star: The reason we took three years to follow up All Y’all was mostly because we were so busy touring and taking opportunities that our “self-release” of that album created that we didn’t have a chance to get back in the studio. We just kept getting offered tours. We got to go to the UK and Europe eight times during those years, supporting Best Coast, …and You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead, Wavves, Black Lips, as well as doing our own headlining dates. Then this German label, Cargo Records, signed us to put out All Y’all in Europe, so the album’s life got extended another year, and we went back to tour on it again. It was an amazing time, but we were so busy that we didn’t have a chance to stop and record. When we finally got back from that last Best Coast tour, we pretty much immediately went into preproduction with producer Ben Allen again and rehearsing/refining the new stuff.

twi-ny: ForLucky Stars, did you set out to make something consciously different from All Y’all ?

Gringo Star: When we started recording CYLS it wasn’t so much making something consciously different from All Y’all as it was to just create the greatest album ever made.

You can count yer lucky stars if you get to see Gringo Star this week at Mercury Lounge and Cameo Gallery (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

twi-ny: Well, you’ve certainly made a damn fine record. Early in Hurry Up and Wait, Matt McCalvin says that he hopes that the documentary will open a lot of doors for the band. What kind of impact has the film had on your career?

Gringo Star: We never really had expectations for how the documentary would affect our “career.” The Malone Pictures guys who made it we had never met until a couple weeks before we did the tour, and they saw us play in Dallas and were looking for the next documentary they were gonna do and just decided we were it. They really dug what we were doing and just called us up a few weeks before the tour and asked if we would mind them coming and filming.

twi-ny: What was it like being followed around by a camera night and day, capturing every warts-and-all moment, including a lot of outdoor tooth-brushing?

Gringo Star: It was a really fun time. You know, it’s always kinda weird to see yourself, on camera, talking about a bunch of dumb shit, walking around, like, “Oh . . . I look like THAT, or “I sound like THAT,” but it’s kind of cool to have a sliver of that time recorded. Those were some amazing shows, and we had a blast . . . outdoor teeth-brushing, bench-sleeping, armed robberies, and all. People that have seen the movie usually seem to react to us and our music in an even more positive way, I think, because they had some insight into the band and us as people. We played the premiere at the USA Film Festival [this past April], after they showed the movie to a sold-out theater, and it was crazy how much people were into us. They were so excited by the band and the songs. It was total uproar. Then after it was a little strange when random folks we’ve never met were calling us by first name.

twi-ny: Speaking again of playing, you, Pete, Pete, and Chris are known for your relentless touring and energetic live shows. Does it ever get overwhelming?

Gringo Star: Life can get overwhelming playing two hundred shows a year, not playing any shows a year, driving in traffic, wrecking your car, stuck at some dead-end job, loading and unloading the van, doing homework, studying for tests, or whatever if you let it. We love playing shows and staying busy playing and recording music that we love and try to roll with the punches. . . . Sometimes it does get a little overwhelming, especially in California, when it’s like, “Do I go with the Sour Diesel? Or Grand Daddy Purp? Or the Earwax? OK, I’ll take them all.”

twi-ny: Earlier this year, we asked your fellow Atlanta band Today the Moon, Tomorrow the Sun what was in the water down there that has led to so many great new bands over the last few years, including Deerhunter, Black Lips, and you, and they thought that it was because the water was laced with PBR. What do you think it might be?

Gringo Star: PBR is the worst. Clearly it’s the grits and cotton fields . . . and the gospel according to Lightnin’ Ray Jackson that all fine southern boys are brought up on.

TWI-NY TALK: ROBERT BATTLE

New Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater artistic director Robert Battle (c.) poses with dancers he has invited to join the company (photo by Andrew Eccles)

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater
New York City Center
130 West 56th St. between Sixth & Seventh Aves.
November 30 – January 1, $25-$150
212-581-1212
www.alvinailey.org
www.nycitycenter.org

Founded in 1958, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater had only two artistic directors over the course of its first fifty-two years, beginning with Ailey himself, who led the company until his death from AIDS in 1989, followed by Judith Jamison, who continued in the role through this summer, when in July she named her successor, Robert Battle. The thirty-eight-year-old Miami native has had a long affiliation with AAADT, having been an artist-in-residence since 1999, and he has had several works performed by the company, including “The Hunt,” “In/Side,” and “Love Stories,” a collaboration with Jamison and Rennie Harris.

Battle, who studied at Juilliard, danced with Parsons Dance Company, started his own group, Battleworks Dance Company, and was named a “Master of African American Choreography” by the Kennedy Center in 2005, is presenting his inaugural City Center season as AAADT artistic director from November 30 through January 1. The annual five-week event will feature Paul Taylor’s “Arden Court” (in his Ailey debut), Ohad Naharin’s interactive “Minus 16,” Jamison’s “Forgotten Time,” the world premiere of Harris’s AIDS-related “Home,” new productions of Joyce Trisler’s “Journey” and Alvin Ailey’s “Streams,” and several pieces by Battle, most notably the Ailey premiere of “Takademe.” Select performances of a number of works will include live music by such special guests as John Legend, Naren Budhkar, the Knights, and others. With the City Center season just a few weeks away, Battle talked with twi-ny about legacy, responsibility, and the precipice of discovery.

twi-ny: You are now only the third artistic director in the history of Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. What is your greatest fear?

Robert Battle: I think that’s an unknown. Fear is not for me something that I turn on and off. Anybody, especially an artist, always has a healthy dose of fear mixed with optimism, because those two opposing forces is what creates energy, the energy that is the creative force. So I think it’s a healthy mixture of both of those things.

twi-ny: What are you looking forward to the most?

Robert Battle: I’m looking forward to watching and reveling at the dancers and the delights of the work that is coming in to the repertory and watching and being a part of taking the company into the future. That’s what I look forward to the most.

twi-ny: How did you go about selecting and grouping the dances for this year’s City Center season, which includes the company premiere of your own “Takademe”? Were you looking for an overriding theme?

Robert Battle has taken over the reins of Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater from Judith Jamison (photo by Andrew Eccles)

Robert Battle: Yes, the overriding theme is past, present, and future. We’re a repertory company — in a way, we’re a repository for great modern dance works — so, of course, looking back at Mr. Ailey’s work, Joyce Trisler’s “Journey,” created in 1958, all of these works are part of looking back and new productions of those works. Being in the present, looking at Rennie Harris’s work and his commission [“Home”] — he’s a hip-hop choreographer, so he uses hip-hop as his language. That is a part of the present; hip-hop is on everybody’s mind, radio, whatever it may be, but dealing with hip-hop to tell the stories of people who are surviving and thriving with HIV/AIDS is a wonderful tribute because it’s about the celebration of life. And then looking at works to me that echo the future, like Ohad Naharin’s “Minus 16,” which breaks the fourth wall: It invites the audience onto the stage, it has audience participation, it has a whole new way of moving for the dancers. So in that way we’re looking at the future. So we’re looking at all three of those things.

twi-ny: Who are some of the new choreographers you’d like to bring into the extended Ailey family?

Robert Battle: Aha — that, I cannot say [laughs], with deference to all choreographers who may want to be a part of this. I can’t just list one or two, but I really want the work to express the complexity of the world, society. It should be a reflection of that, so that you have choreographers of different races and backgrounds and approaches and themes bringing their voice to our voice. That’s what Mr. Ailey wanted, what Ms. Jamison continued, and what I will continue, to look far and wide, and to keep the audience and the dancers on that precipice of discovery.

twi-ny: With that in mind, how are you balancing the Ailey tradition with, perhaps, the urge to bust things wide open and initiate potential change under your leadership?

Robert Battle: I think that question could have a period at the end. That is what I am doing, balancing the traditional with the sometimes nontraditional. I think the notion of doing something without it having some connection to what is already here is not something I’m interested in. I’m really interested in blending the two. And that’s because this is a repertory company; that’s why I’m able to do that. If it’s one choreographer’s work, it’s harder to do that, but when you’re choosing works from many different choreographers in one season you get the sense of that yin and yang, that stretching forward of busting the whole thing wide open but yet keeping the traditional so that the company stays rooted. That’s why it began in the first place; celebrating the African American tradition and culture and experience in this country but also expanding on that idea is what I’m trying to do.

TWI-NY TALK: GUY MADDIN

Eclectic Canadian filmmaker Guy Maddin will be taking part in a pair of special Performa 11 presentations on Friday and Saturday

Tales from the Gimli Hospital: Reframed
November 18-19, Walter Reade Theater, 165 West 65th St., $25-$30, 7:00 & 9:00
www.11.performa-arts.org/event

“The Power of a Continuity-Free Cinema”
Saturday, November 19, Performa Hub, 233 Mott St., $10, 3:00
www.11.performa-arts.org/event

During a career that has now reached a quarter of a century, iconoclastic Canadian filmmaker Guy Maddin has made ten feature films and more than two dozen shorts, many of them harkening back to the early days of silent black-and-white cinema. His eclectic tales often blend fact with fiction, the past with the present (and the future), as evidenced in such critical successes as Careful (1992), The Heart of the World (2000), and My Winnipeg (2007). He has also expanded the notion of cinema with such works as Cowards Bend the Knee (2003), which was initially shown in ten segments screening at individual stations, and Brand upon the Brain! A Remembrance in 12 Chapters (2006), which debuted with live music and narration. For Performa 11, Maddin is going back to his first feature film, 1988’s Tales from the Gimli Hospital, adding a new score by Matthew Patton that will be performed live by an Icelandic supergroup, electronics engineer Paul Corley, and Seattle-based collective Aono Jikken Ensemble, along with new narration sung and spoken by Kristín Anna Valtýsdóttir. The exciting program takes place at the Walter Reade Theater on November 18-19, directed by Maddin, who will also be teaching the film class “The Power of a Continuity-Free Cinema” on Saturday afternoon. We corresponded with Maddin via e-mail as he prepared to participate in Performa 11.

twi-ny: What made you want to revisit your first film, Tales from the Gimli Hospital, for Performa 11?

Guy Maddin I thought, of all the films of mine that might actually thematically justify a revisiting from the director (something that truly ought not to be done under almost any circumstances!), then this was the title. The movie, if it’s about anything, seems to play with the Icelandic proclivity for making personal lives into timeless myths. I chose to use the project to help us timid Canadians take up the task of doing the same thing for our smaller-than-life selves. There’s a serious national myth debt in Canada. Back in 1988, when I completed the movie, I tried to right that wrong by myself, using the great vocabularies of early Hollywood dream factories and the sassitudes of the ancient Icelandic sagas. We have a wondrous and perverted history up here in Canada, but our temperament is too weak, our storytelling flare too pallid, to impart to these stories the bigger-than-life lineaments required to elevate a person or incident to mythic dimensions. Americans can do this stuff in their sleep, so you might be puzzled to hear of a country struggling with such things.

Anyway, myths are the product of a long process of telling and retelling, word-of-mouth burnishings into canonical permanence that can take decades, centuries, or even millennia to complete. I wanted to do it overnight, using artificial means aided by methods borrowed from Hollywood, and now, twenty-three years later, I get to artificially update this saga of Icelanders struggling as delirious pioneers in the Canadian north by speed-composting twenty-three years’ worth of word-of-mouth retellings all in one night at Lincoln Center. I feel a bit like a mad scientist, but with my Petri dishes brimming with narrative gelatins instead of the usual sneeze-cultures. It’s crazy. If I’d tackled any other movie of mine, I’d simply be trying to reduce the humiliations produced by a dated filmography, but here I can use this mad process of allowing the stories to evolve in ways beyond my control to actually increase my humiliation!

Guy Maddin will be reframing his feature-length debut at Lincoln Center as part of Performa 11 (photo courtesy Guy Maddin)

twi-ny: How did you go about selecting the diverse range of musicians for this event?

Guy Maddin: Some of these were people located by Matthew Patton, the composer originally commissioned to create the new score. He’s a fervid Icelandophile and collected the phone numbers of some of the most talented musicians in that country. Incredible, unearthly, and eerie music is their coin of the realm. One gets the feeling their music would play the same backward as forward, that they waft out melodic palindromes on warm breezes of helium, that the actual source of these strains is the elf king’s adamantine face fixed and hidden somewhere in the Icelandic lava canyons. The other musicians are my friends from the Seattle-based Aono Jikken Ensemble, who performed for my Brand upon the Brain show that I mounted here in New York a few years ago. I love these equally mysterious alchemists. I have no idea how they even make some of the sounds they send out into the theater, although the audience will be able to watch them and perhaps divine for themselves.

I love making the component parts of a film visible to the public. It’s boredom insurance. I’m not thrilled about the vivisection of animals, but of films — I’m all for it!

twi-ny: We have to say that we’re for it too. That’s part of the reason why we’ll be attending the class you’ll be leading on Saturday afternoon, “The Power of a Continuity-Free Cinema.” What can people expect from that class? And what exactly is “Continuity-Free Cinema”?

Guy Maddin: Good question. I’ll be bluffing my way through that class. I guess I plucked the title out of my past, the early days of my career when everyone on set was a continuity expert. It drove me nuts when everyone pointed out to me, or refused to perform because of, the continuity errors I was making. I grew to hate these literal-minded people and to love bad continuity. No one really utters this vilest of c-words anymore. Terrence Malick hasn’t had two consecutive shots cut to continuity in his entire career. It’s gone. Maybe I’ll just show Tree of Life on DVD and dismiss the class when the credits roll. Maybe I’ll show some early examples of flagrant discontinuity from film history and try to share with my students the gooseflesh these incidents produce.

twi-ny: Sounds like it should be fun. Much of your work is not only about cinema itself but the physical and psychological experience involved with watching and listening to a film. With more and more people watching movies on computers and tiny handheld devices, is cinema as we knew it, as Peter Greenaway has announced, dead?

Guy Maddin: Nah, there’s still no better first date than a movie in a theater with popcorn. And we’ll always need first dates, or something like them. On a second date couples can meet up in some motel and watch my stuff on some lurid handheld device. Until we eliminate the first date, cinema is alive.

TWI-NY TALK: EMILY JOHNSON

Emily Johnson explores home and heritage in THE THANK-YOU BAR (photo by Cameron Wittig)

THE THANK-YOU BAR
New York Live Arts
Bessie Schönberg Theater
219 West 19th St. between Seventh & Eighth Aves.
November 9-12, $15-$20
212-691-6500
www.newyorklivearts.org
www.catalystdance.com

“I want to make work that looks at identity and cultural responsibility — that is beautiful and powerful — full of myth and truth at the same time,” choreographer Emily Johnson explains in her mission statement. “I want to be grounded in my heritage, supported by my community, and giving back — always.” Born in Alaska of Yup’ik descent and based in Minneapolis, Johnson has been creating site-specific dance installations in collaboration with visual artists and musicians since 1998, exploring ideas of home, identity, and the natural world through different modes of storytelling. Her latest multimedia performance piece is The Thank-you Bar, running at New York Live Arts from November 9 to 12. A collaboration with musicians James Everest and Joel Pickard of BLACKFISH, who will play a special set on the final night, the performance installation also includes beadwork by Karen Beaver and paper sculptures by Krista Kelley Walsh. The extremely eloquent and thoughtful Johnson carefully considered our questions for our latest twi-ny talk; she will also participate in a preshow chat on November 9 with NYLA artistic director Carla Peterson as well as a discussion on November 11 with dancer-choreographer Reggie Wilson following the 9:30 show.

twi-ny: In her Context Notes about The Thank-you Bar on the New York Live Arts blog, Biba Bell is taken by your voiceover “What is becoming more clear to me is what I’m missing,” asking the questions “How many moments are passed, paused or pregnant with the sense of what is missed — something, someone, someplace? What do they sound like, smell like, and how do they feel?” What are some of the things you are missing, and how do they drive your artistic creation?

Emily Johnson: I said that — about the missing — because I am feeling years accumulate. What is absent is becoming an acute pain and it makes me feel old, most simply because of what has already gone by. I have missed my niece and nephew growing up because I was in Minneapolis, making dance, while they were in Alaska. I miss many, many mornings with my grandma — casual mornings of coffee, where we sit around, she doing crosswords until a story comes out. If I’m not around, I simply miss the story and I miss the time. And this creates the yearning — or heightens it, at the very least. I long for these stories. I long for the time with my elders, the time with my niece and nephew and rest of my family. And it points to what might not be: How much longer can I wait to learn the Yup’ik language, helped along by my grandma — the only one in my family who speaks it? How much longer can my body make do without feeling the ground of Alaska beneath my feet on a regular, day in and day out basis? What disservice do I do my life when I let these things pass me by?

Eventually, time runs out. Every summer I go home for the salmon run and I am trying to imprint the process of putting the salmon up (cleaning, smoking, kippuring, freezing . . .) into my brain so that when it comes my time to take charge of making it happen I will be able to do so. These are some of the things I am missing, and the absence and the longing are so real that it creates a new version of life. Biba’s questions about sounds, smell, feel — this is exactly what drives me. As I created The Thank-you Bar, a work very much about missing home/land, I thought about how our bodies miss, how our minds remember — not a scientific how, but a how related to our own perceptions of our experiences. When a thread of a Crystal Gayle song comes on, I am brought back to the jukebox at my grandma’s bar; when I think about the mountains near my Alaskan home, my chest aches and for some reason it also feels like I am diving into a very cold lake, exhilarating my being. And the thoughts about where and when also make me think of the future.

When I make dances, I try to imagine the future. I get curious about what images, reactions, or stories the audience might remember four days after seeing a performance. This leads me to structure dances with a focused attention on the smallest of details: what the audience might walk on as they enter the space, what they might smell during a particular story. . . . It makes me consider what I can leave out of the equation so as to let conjecture and interpretation have a role in the room.

Emily Johnson has teamed up with James Everest and Joel Pickard of BLACKFISH and others in THE THANK-YOU BAR (photo by Cameron Wittig)

twi-ny: The Thank-you Bar and its companion exhibit, “This Is Displacement,” explore the idea of home. You were born in Alaska, you’re based in Minneapolis, and you’re now presenting the New York premiere of a work that has previously been performed in Oklahoma, Houston, and other locations. Where is home for you?

Emily Johnson: The most specific, locating answer is that I have two homes: one in Minneapolis, the other in Alaska. I love both places, and the home in Minneapolis is actually more concrete: it has my stuff in it. The home in Alaska feels expansive and like it goes on for thousands of years, probably because it doesn’t actually have any walls. I don’t have a living space in Alaska, but it’s where I come from and where I continually return to.

To be honest, I try to build another home for myself and audiences in The Thank-you Bar. Does this mean I am searching? Does this mean I believe we can adapt to any longing, and dislocation? I build the home by trying to bring attention to the building we are in and the people who are gathered in the room. I try to imagine the walls gone; I try to imagine what was here before the current incarnation. I want the feeling of “home” to lead to a kind of intimacy so that people feel comfortable, responsible even, for it. I think we tend to look at things as static when, in reality, our bodies and places house past, present, and future, at once. It’s anything but static and it’s kind of exciting to tap into.

twi-ny: You collaborated with James Everest and Joel Pickard of BLACKFISH on The Thank-you Bar, and the duo will be playing a special concert on November 12. What is it about their music that draws you to them and made you want to work with them?

Emily Johnson: BLACKFISH music is dramatically mind altering for me. When James [Everest], Joel [Pickard], and I started work, part of our process was to improvise together in a room, daily. We’ve continued that process, as much as we can when we tour, and out of it James and Joel created their project, BLACKFISH. As BLACKFISH, they perform improvised concerts in conjunction with our tours. I love their concerts — and I love that they’ve developed this entire project out of The Thank-you Bar. On the twelfth, they’re releasing a gorgeous limited edition, letter-pressed, eight-CD collection of some of the concerts they’ve recorded over the past two years. John Scott heard their concert in Vermont this summer and has since worked with them for music for his new work. He very endearingly asked my permission first.

In The Thank-you Bar, they don’t play as BLACKFISH; they play as James and Joel. What I most appreciate about them is their specificity and dedication to improvisation. The music they composed for The Thank-you Bar is set; it came from improvisations, from bouts of memory and discussions of the jukebox I mentioned (that at my grandma’s was filled with classic country). The sound of dislocation and rerouting to find home is what they built for The Thank-you Bar. It makes me want to work with them again and again.

One day, early in the process, I was rehearsing in a separate studio. I came down and they told me to sit on the floor. They proceeded to play music that layered inch by inch and sound by sound, as they appeared and disappeared, until a reverberating chorus echoed off the walls. I remember slapping the floor and exclaiming/laughing at the genius of it. Them: missing. Music: building. We’ve kept it. They basically choreographed the beginning of the dance.

TWI-NY TALK: LAURA PETERSON

Laura Peterson goes environmental with WOODEN (photo by Steven Schreiber)

HERE
145 Sixth Ave. at Dominick St.
November 4-12, $20
212-647-0202
www.here.org
www.lpchoreography.com

Last January, Laura Peterson Choreography presented Wooden as part of HERE’s annual Culturemart festival. The work-in-progress, which uses real grass and trees in creating living environments in which a quartet of dancers — Peterson, Kate Martel, Edward Rice, and Janna Diamond — perform, officially opened this past Friday, beginning an eight-show run that continues at HERE through November 12. Consisting of three parts, “Ground,” “Trees,” and “Corridor,” Wooden examines time and nature, inspired by earthworks and taking place on a biodegradable set. There will be a special panel discussion, “Dance, Installation, and Repurposing,” following the November 9 performance, in which Peterson will talk about her creative process. Just as she prepared for opening night, Peterson, who teaches classes at Dance New Amsterdam, answered some questions for twi-ny as curtain time beckoned.

Edward Rice, Laura Peterson, and Janna Diamond in WOODEN (photo by Steven Schreiber)

twi-ny: When we first met back in January, you were extremely nervous, putting together Wooden for Culturemart. How are the nerves as the piece is ready for its first official performances this week at HERE?

Laura Peterson: I am so happy with Wooden. When we performed the dance on the grass at Culturemart in January, I had no idea how it would behave, what it would be like to install a living lawn or what it would feel like for our bodies to dance on. We learned that it lives and grows and needs water every night. Dancing on the grass is so much more difficult that dancing on a normal floor. Sliding doesn’t really happen, turning is very precarious, and the effort of moving on an uneven terrain is very intense. We figured all of these things out through Culturemart and everyone is much calmer.

twi-ny: How has Wooden changed since then?

Laura Peterson: Most of the choreography that we performed in January 2011 has been reworked. Because HERE provides the opportunity of the Culturemart festival to workshop the pieces by members of the HERE Artist Residency Program, we are able to see the problems in a piece before full production and address them. The sound score is very different, the costumes are a little different, and we are also performing part of the dance we developed in 2010. This section is performed in a barren landscape with hanging driftwood trees while the audience is sitting on the lawn in the second half of Wooden. There is an installation and a soloist as the audience enters, which is brand new as well. It’s called “Corridor,” and it is performed by several different dancers throughout the performance run.

twi-ny: You incorporate environmentally friendly earthwork into Wooden. How did you go about selecting the material? Did you have any primary influences when designing the installation itself?

Laura Peterson: I was first inspired to create this dance in 2009 when I was looking at outdoor installation work and natural architecture. I am often influenced by visual art, and I started seriously looking at earthwork and pieces made from natural materials. I found myself thinking that those pieces are meant to change, as they are subject to time and weather. This was around the time that my dance called Forever was being performed on a large set consisting of a white circular platform made from forty-eight triangles. After the performances of Forever ended and we were loading out, I thought about how much I was throwing away after a show closes and it really bothered me. Luckily, some of those triangles became tables in our friend’s restaurant, but only using something for a week and letting it go into a Dumpster stuck with me. I decided that using biodegradable materials was going to be part of my concept in Wooden. I wonder if the audience will consciously realize they are sitting on and among natural and ecologically sensitive materials. We are going to find out.