Just found out John Smith’s 1976 Girl Chewing Gum will be screened on Friday night at Tate Britain while Anthony’s performing Musica Practica.
I’m very happy to discover this – Smith’s film was a steady reference point for me when I was beginning to develop the conducting performance. I wrote a bit about these parallels in March last year (with Rowan Atkinson thrown in too..) – the fictionalized conceits of each are quite different, as is the relation between instruction and action, so I think they’ll complement one another well, both showing at the same place and time. Here’s what I wrote at the time:
http://www.tamarinnorwood.co.uk/three-models-of-co…
Here’s the updated Late at Tate line-up:
http://www.tate.org.uk/britain/eventseducation/lat…
I’m writing this purely to avoid doing my tax return.
Yesterday I met with Anthony the orchestra conductor and we chose a tailcoat for next Friday at the Tate. The man in the shop unspokenly seemed to think it was for our wedding and that I was his bride to be, and gave me tips about adjusting the waistband. I will not be sewing anything thank you.
We wondered afterwards if they might have given us a discount if we’d said BUT THIS IS FOR A PERFORMANCE AT THE FAMOUS TATE BRITAIN. We could have offered to put up a sponsorship banner behind Anthony so when people thought The Home of British Art they would think Moss Bros too.
Given all the preparation, it feels strange that we haven’t rehearsed. We’ve talked in depth about how the performance will differ from the original Southbank event, we’ve decided how he should step onto the podium, pause, pause and step off it again, we’ve decided when someone has to step in if something goes wrong, and what constitutes going wrong, and I’ve written a very pedantic schedule of what will happen between each of the seven performances – but no actual rehearsal.
The Southbank performance went equally unrehearsed and I think was stronger because of it: it was an exploration both for the conductor and for the passing audience. There’s no way of rehearsing a thing like this without actually performing it at the same time – and certainly no way of practicing the scenario in advance, as the scenario will continually renew itself moment after moment.
I think the important thing will be to keep all the practicalities clear and out of the way, so that in the end there’s nothing to do but the performance. In light of that, it’s nice to reflect that the performance itself will consist entirely of practicalities and their mirrored responses.
Oh the matter.
Thrillingly, I’m showing new work at Tate Britain next month. My conducting work “Musica Practica” will be performed in seven of the galleries over the course of the Late at Tate event on February 4th.
The Tate curator got in touch last year after she heard about my performance at another gallery – or rather, she heard about a panel discussion during which the performance was discussed – and got in touch to find out more. It’s funny how one thing leads to another.
I wrote about the original “Musica Practica” performance in May last year (post #14), where it took place outside of traditional art contexts.
Moving the performance into a museum makes a change from its original South Bank location, where it took place both outdoors and outside of a designated art space. It meant people stumbled upon the work without any preconception that it could belong to an art context, and as a result, for many people it never did: it was just a thing that had happened to them that day – or perhaps they had happened to it?
Putting the performance in a museum makes it clear from the outset that we’re dealing with an art thing, and there’s no doubt this will substantially change the work. Mindful of its original location, we’re moving the performance through the Tate Britain galleries from space to space over the course of the evening so visitors might encounter the conductor unexpectedly in multiple locations, and might even miss him altogether. Among them I’ve chosen as many “lifelike” places as “artlike” ones (to borrow from Kaprow again) – a cloakroom, an info desk, an entrance way – which more closely recall the work’s original attachment to everyday life. With these adjustments keeping time with the adjusted context of the work, I’m interested to see whether the result feels more like a new work altogether or an adaptation of the original.
Here’s the outline from the Tate Britain website:
A lone orchestra conductor translates the gallery’s ambient sounds and everyday movements into real-time orchestral choreography. Shifting the traditional relations of authorship, score and performance, conductor and audience simultaneously direct one another’s actions.
Musica Practica will be part of Late at Tate Britain: Diffusions
Friday 4 February 2011, 18.30–21.30
Part of the Great British Art Debate
We say: the writing of the text is its dying song.
