Saturday, March 11, 2006

Last night was The Love Show, with Yours Truly taking over the hosting responsibilities for one vacationing Greg Sterlace.
I arrived at Home of the Future to find most of my guests already there: Annie, Michele, niece Katharine, nephew Jake, their dad/handler du jour, and no band yet. Within about twenty minutes the band, Bare Flames, arrived, with enough equipment to rock out in the ol' Aud fercrissakes. I had no idea that live drums are not allowed at HOTF and there was a tense show-down between Richard and Jim, the drummer. My husband, Bad Ronald, showed up to co-host and the two of us tossed several suggestions at the band. My favoured suggestion was mine, bien sur, that the band lip-sync along to an mp3 we could download from their MySpace site. They said No, in unison, all four of them. Bad Ronald and I suggested that they fumble about with their chords and such as the music played, kind of like a Spinal Tap moment. They again said No. Finally, they were interviewed. They were a tough interview, kind of all in repose, one-syllable answers. Not a lick of irony abounding. We went to one of their mp3's, played along with a video that Tim Leary made for them. Brilliant.
Back to interview and in the interim I had suggested to Bare Flames that they pep it up a bit and they did. Better second-part interview and then another tune.
More interview and they were d.o.n.e.
Onwards to Katharine and her clarinet doing Love Me Tender as Annie sang.
Then some more talk, with me and Bad Ronald interviewing the niece and nephew.
Then interview time with Michele and Annie.
Now I was really studying the clock, counting down to thirty minutes which, when you're in the midst of the segment, seems interminable.
Time for the group jam/dance I stated and all in the studio shuffled in. Jim the drummer hit some mad sounds on the electronic drumpad as Katharine did her thing and Scott made some guitar sounds, plugged into the wall monitor.
We all sang some Love-related tunes, and danced. It went on and on and on and on and on and on. I suggested we all watch the playback, mainly to see if in fact the show was as much a flaming fiasco as I believed it was. It was not. Happily.
Television production, who knew it was such a Perfect challenge, sort of like orchestrating a shot with a group of about one hundred people as you're sweating and fretting and all the while keeping it real and jubilant on the exterior.

Love of orchestras.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Well where have I been.
Yours Truly has been shooting like a madwoman - events, portraits, weird happenstances, and the usual like.
Have been hearing from most of the Shiney Apple pals who keep wondering Where in HELL are you. I have been wondering much the same. The artworld sights beckon, most notably the latest incarnation of the Whitney Biennial and memory cannot help but zoom back to the last one with all its video possibilities. So that is on the list, as well as the culinary explorations, and shooting of the artful variety.
CEPA Gallery bellows for my piece and I've been working on a new thing in lieu of an older thing. Tomorrow night is the public access show and at this moment there is uncertainty looming around all the guestly possibilies and there are subsequent visions of YT looking into the camera and delivering a half-hour monologue. What a treat, what a terror.
Time to wend back towards Middling City U and points far beyond.

Public access to Love.

Monday, March 06, 2006

To be filed under W, for What the...
Whilst in Kennedy's backyard this AM heard a nearby woman's voice yelling that she had a gun, yelling to someone else to Go get the gun. And I am the attorney for the Buffalo Police, she added.
Yours Truly took all this information, computed that a stray bullet from this hysterical person would probably zing through the nearby stockade fence and Yikes I said and scrammed.
Police then were on the scene.
So the question is did this femme think YT was a culprit, an intruder, or did she actually see one.
Off to interview the president of Middlling City U for a story for the Shiney Happy Mag.

No love for potentially being misunderstood as a culprit, or encountering one.