“Tomorrow We Will Run Faster” by Katharine Fry

Saturday, 29 June 2013
9:00 pm
Prosser Studio

Blog Response by Kellen Hoxworth

Photo by Jamie Lyons9210447387_0850572dfa_o

Lights come up on two women wearing blue dresses, each standing behind a microphone. Behind them, a screen image of a pristine clock at 12 o’clock looms. A fan produces a soft breeze, rippling blue fabric and the water half-filling plastic cups on a stand between the pair. Alexandra “Sasha” Kovacs, stage right, begins to sing “tah” on a long tone, ending with a gutteral “kuh.” Natalie Mathieson, stage left, immediately follows with “tih” on a slightly shorter tone, ending with the same “kuh” sound. The second hand moves minutely.

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“Corpulent Temporalities” by Miranda Olzman

Friday, 28 June 2013
10:00 – 11:00 pm (time observed)
Roble Studio 25 (Performance Gallery)

Blog Response by Dr. W.C. Meier

Experiencing Miranda Olzman’s Corpulent Temporalities as an audience member I knew, having read her bio, that she was performing an extension of Halberstam’s queer temporalities and social constructions surrounding fatness using tactile modalities. Walking into the gymnasium, I first laid eyes on her sitting on a tarp quietly chatting with the people who intently approached her surrounded by gauze covered in Plaster of Paris, bins of water, paint brushes, glitter sticks, markers and other various art supplies. The space looks both fun and inviting. As one of the artists who makes up the Performance Gallery, Olzman posed in the space (I saw her both standing and sitting crossed-legged) and invited transient audience members to stop and contribute to the casting of her body.

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“Paperwork: The Department of Dreams, Hopes and Fears” by L.M. Bogad

Friday, 28 June 2013
10:00 – 11:45 pm (observed intermittently)
Roble Studio 25 (Performance Gallery)

Blog Response by Dr. W.C. Meier

Photo by Jamie Lyons9209924679_738ed1aa71_o

As soon as I happened upon The Bureaucrat sitting behind his regulation metal desk, dressed in a polyester suit, silently grimacing, gesturing intently for me to sit, and surrounded by all of the props a busybody who works for something called The Department of Dreams, Hopes and Fears would have been issued by the unknown higher authority he comes from, I knew I was in trouble. With trepidation and unable to stifle my giggling, he turned a bright desk lamp so it shone directly onto my face as I sat down in the chair and squinting, connected with his eyes glaring back at me with glee. Watching, his finger tapped the desk impatiently three times. He was waiting for me to pick up the pen provided and write on the white paper…my fears. The Bureaucrat has three plastic signs which he uses to silently instruct an audience member brave enough to answer the call of his desk bell what to do. As I handed him my confession, he took a large feather out from a drawer of his desk and tickled my nose, quickly hiding the instrument of my olfactory torture when he was apparently satisfied with my recoil. He then carefully examined my document, highlighted one word, stamped it with the words ‘Return to Sender’ before promptly crumpling it up and handing it back with a smug grin. And with that, the Bureaucrat was indicating that he was begrudgingly ready for the next client to hand over to him their dreams, hopes and fears. And while I was only a part of this performance for a few minutes, I watched L.M. Bogad in character with absolute delight on and off for a few hours. And I swear, paperwork was never so much fun.

“Honey” by Stosh Fila and Julie Tolentino

Friday, 28 June 2013
7:30 pm
Roble Courtyard

Blog Response by Sampada Aranke, PhD Candidate, UC Davis Performance Studies

Photo by Jamie Lyons9209945645_e9a90d01f5_o

Truthfully, I didn’t go to the performance gallery expecting to see HONEY. But it captured me. As I walked through the performance gallery courtyard on Friday night, I noticed a tall, black tripod structure towering over a woman. As I walked toward her, I noticed a glistening golden trail leading from the top of the black structure towards her face. It was excessive, extravagant, velvet, and moving like sand through an hourglass — slow, layered, purposeful, directive. Honey. Honey slithering down a wire catching the evening light with it’s fleshly materiality. Atop the structure crouched a man, white wearing all black. He poured the nectar from above. She stood underneath, wearing a garment made of what looked like a white tarpy vinyl, and caught the honey in her mouth. Tediously keeping her mouth open, she writhed from ease to discomfort, joy to crazed fear. Fear of choking on honey. What a luxurious murder.

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“Falling Into Place,” by Gretchen Schiller

Friday, 28 June 2013
12:00 pm
Roble 33

Blog Response by Rebecca Chaleff

Photo by Jamie Lyons9209914477_23ee68699f_o

For the past few days, Roble 33 has been a mystery to me.  I heard whispers about it: those who had volunteered to set it up expressed incredible curiosity, and those called upon to photograph the space exclaimed, “I don’t know what she’s doing in there, but it’s beautiful.”  I got several text messages telling me that I absolutey had to see it.  My interest was engaged, to say the least.  I tried desperately to find an appointment—the books were full, and only one spot remained.  I nearly sacrificed a friendship ensuring that I was the one to take this appointment.  I was lucky (and yes, we’re still friends).

I returned the next day to check in at the front desk of Roble, disguised from its usual function by a lace tablecloth and stacks of archaic-looking books and scrolls tied with ribbon.  I was checked-in, led down the hall to Roble 33, and told to stand in the threshold until instructed to do otherwise—until the “librarian” came to fetch me.  All I could see was absence.  Thick curtains sucked space and time out of the room.  I felt as though I were standing in a vacuum, a black hole in the middle of the Stanford campus.

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“Stitches In and Out of Time: Closing and Opening Queer Sites of Trauma” by Allen Conkle, Julie Cosenza, Amy Kilgard, Alexis Litzky, Thao P. Nguyen, Miranda Olzman (San Francisco State University)

Thursday, 27 June 2013
10:00 pm
Clubhouse Ballroom

Blog Response by David Preciado, Doctoral Student, Department of Ethnic Studies, University of California, Berkeley

The performance sought to explore “the intersections of queer temporalities and trauma” to critique neoliberal and colonial epistemologies of time and memory.

The performance consisted of five “presumed” women dressed in all black, each woman wore a piece of american-flag ribbon around their body, fresnel lanterns illuminated the stage, and audio was used to sensate scenes from broadway’s Hairspray song, “Timeless”, to dramatic death-tone beeps that made the space silent and serious. Technological mediums were kept to a minimum though, as storytelling was majority told through the bodies of the performers.

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“John Cage’s Lecture on Nothing,” (re)performed by Michael Hunter and Derek Phillips

Thursday, 27 June 13
10:00 pm
Roble Studio 52

Blog Response by Rebecca Chaleff

Photo by Jamie Lyons9209879003_9e75a04662_o

In the center of Roble Studio 52 are four stools.  One of these stools is for sitting, and the other three support the few lamps that provide the only lighting sources in the room (this smart and minimal set design, it should be noted, was advised by Angrette McClosky).  Perched atop the central and tallest stool is Michael Hunter, calmly reading John Cage’s “Lecture on Nothing.”  His face, lit by the surrounding lamps, is illuminated as though he were reading a ghost story.  We, the audience, are gathered around this campfire setting on an inconsistent array of floor mats, couches, and chairs, all curving around the central figure.

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“100 Performances for the Hole (Redux); a mini-marathon of artistic moments” by Justin Hoover (et al)

Thursday, 27 June 2013
7:30-9:30 PM
Building 550 Atrium

Blog Response by Dr. W.C. Meier

PORT_130627_1230148(photo by Annabelle Port)

25 two-minute performances back-to-back. Staring into the space, an atrium, there is, to the left, a mic –which SOMArts Curator/MC Justin Hoover uses to intro and out-tro performers. Next to him, a monitor is turned to face the audience and performers with a digital clock, counting down from 4 minutes each time, including set-up, performance and teardown.

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Performing the PSi Conference: A Processural Twitter Archive, Post 1

This blog is a catalog of responses to events. These responses occur in various temporalities, in different rhythms, and in different media. The psi19performance blog attempts to collapse the distances, distinctions, and differences between these times, patterns, and forms as well as those between the “liveness” and the documentation of the conference, between the academic, praxis, and performance valences of the conference, and between this blog’s own nature as archive and its serial eventhood, marked by its insistent up-to-datedness.

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