Brian Feldman has devised another amazing performance piece. He plans to sleep for 50 hours while allowing people to walk over him. He is sleeping in a wooden box built with two by fours outside on the sidewalk . On top is a black metal grid and then a sheet of Plexiglas so people who walk over can get a good view of Brian sleeping. When I got to the site I really didn’t know how I would get a drawing. You can not really see Brian from the street or sidewalk. Only when You walk over him do you get a full view. I finally decided the only option was to walk right on top of Brian, sit down on my stool and sketch him from that vantage point. It was rather like sketching a corpse at a wake while sitting on the coffin. Two young women stopped by and wanted to walk over Brian. I got out of the way, and they started across. They hesitated however and asked, “He won’t peek will he?” They were concerned because they had dressed on. Brain however was wearing a mask, perhaps for exactly that reason. When they left I climbed back up and resumed my sketch.
A student from Valencia College named Dariel wandered by and we both recognized each other. He is a young tan fellow who could well be a surfer. During my visit at Valencia he really seemed to get the point I was stressing, which was to get out in the community and take art and academics outside the classroom. He related a story about a character he met who he thought was homeless who was taking pictures of graffiti. This fellow was actually an artist from Jamaica who was traveling the world on the cheap. The fact that he related this story was a real highlight for me. That meant he understood the idea of art as an adventure.
Feldman’s performance makes me wonder, am I truly living everyday fully? Am I fully awake? Do I let people walk over me? Brian will continue to sleep till 6PM on March 22nd. So if you want to walk over him, go to Frames Forever & Art Gallery at 941 Orange Avenue, Winter Park, FL. It is a half mile from the Winter Park Art Festival.
Digital Seance
I returned to the Kerouac house to see a second performance of txt. I realized after my first sketch that the performance wasn’t so much about the man reading the text messages, Brian Feldman, but it was about the uninhibited comments that came from the audience who remained anonymous writing the script on there iPhones and PDAs. This time I sat in the far back corner of the living room so I could sketch as much of the audience as I could. The performance was again peppered with sexual innuendo and some paranoia. This time Brian was asked to do more physical actions such as jumping jacks. One unexpected incident occurred when he said, “Get me a cup of water, I am parched, this isn’t in the script I really need a cup of water”. Kim darted into the kitchen to get a cup of water. After the performance Brian indicated that the call for water was just another text message. I found myself laughing louder than ever at this performance. The uninhibited mind is a strange and quirky beast. I was fascinated by the glow of the PDAs through red thumbs and fingers. The small room crowded with people again made the reading feel like a digital seance.
txt
txt was a performance by Brian Feldman at the Jack Kerouac house in College Park. The premise of the performance piece was that the audience would text the script to Brian as he performed by reading his iPhone. A small stage was set up in front of the fireplace in the living room and 2 lamps were placed on either side of the stage as foot lights.
The performance felt more like a digital seance rather than a simple reading. All thumbs and index fingers were busy typing as Brian started to read a strange disjointed mix of ideas. His reading was peppered with sexually explicit language that even comedian George Carlin might be embarrassed by. I began to think I was in the room with a mix of lunatics rather than a quaintly bohemian audience. That guy in the back row looked like he was having way to much fun as he typed his entries. He must have been the one who typed over and over that fingers are people.
At one point Brian glanced at a message and turned to look at a picture of Jack Kerouac on the wall behind him. He then recited, “That Jack Kerouac is a hunk, I’d do him”. Had a woman in the audience really typed that? Could the guy giggling to himself in the back row have typed that? I found myself laughing uncontrollably at the absurdity of many of the texts being transmitted.
The young couple in the sketch had to share an iPhone. First she would text and then she would hand it off so he could text. My wife, Terry, said than none of her texts had been recited. That caused me to think afterward that perhaps like a seance not everything was as it seemed. Regardless I was certainly entertained.
Post Script: A number of participants informed me that without a doubt all texts were strictly written by audience. Texting seems to unlock inhibitions, it offers a chance to write things that would never be said under normal circumstances. txt was a Mad Lib with an emphasis on Mad.