I’ve long suspected that there are diabolical machines underground in key sites, manufacturing certain populations. For instance, in Soho, in the last 10 years one of these factories has secretly moved in and crosses greyhounds with young blonde women. The streets are bewilderingly dotted with very tall, thin young women, clutching photo portfolios, from this wicked experiment. This machine phenomenon would explain why, in alternative art venues, in contemporary theatre or performance (I mean the off-off-off thing, not the US regional theatre) one gets the creepy feeling that it’s the same people at every show. Like their Soho blonde/greyhound factory counterpart, somewhere in Sydney, or Manhattan, or Vancouver, or Cardiff, these diabolical machines are churning out agreeably rumpled, black-clad audiences for Live Art. (The entry points to the Outside are of course, through the subway).They make more women than men, for some reason. If you look hard, interesting glasses are a give-away accessory (berets also a strong clue). 
January 11, 2007
January 12, 2007 at 6:55 pm
The Live Art audience machine also manufactures a level of sarcasm that must be maintained, like a the blood alcohol level of a drunk. In a hippie rural west coast coffee shop, watching people stare meaningfully into each other’s eyes, never uttering a snarky comment, i realize how much i have taken this mode of engagement for granted. Sincerity reigns! Ack.