HAIRY GLORY

Whenever I remain silent, you can pretty much be sure I'm up to no good. Proven and proven again over time. So, 'sup you guys? I’ve missed you. My brain took a (series of) day off. Welcome back to me. I did venture out in the real world those couple of weeks I remained under cover.

Living Room Index and Pool, a collaboration between Lauren Bakst and Yuri Masnyj. Promising, huh? Went to see their performance at Pioneer Works two Sundays ago. I do even have a very sad video to prove it. I took notes too, while I was in hell. Let me look for those. Oh there we go. It’s pretty simple, it reads: bad performance and hairy armpits. That’s it. It occurred to me there, that those two little things are actually super fucking connected. Not sure which makes the other their bitch, but they come in pair. At least, they did that day. A picture is worth a billion trillion gazillion words.

The guy in the background is NOT part of the act. Poor bastard. He was like me. An outsider. A viewer, I guess. How dare they make us viewers in such cases? I don’t know. I do know the two girls were kinda of super duper upset after their little show. I know, cause my GF and I were not spying on them as they sat down on a sofa to debrief and get mad at one another. Ya, the problem always is the audience, you go girls.

It surely had nothing to do with adding up at random disparate components and having nothing to say through your body language, reading of poetry (was it?) and game of selfies with your MacBooks. That’s how performance gets degraded into empty uselessly complicated pretentious acts of « look at me.»

Wanna be vain? Be vain! Wanna have no message at all? Embrace it. Love that. Own it. That’s ballsy. But stop the whole « I have no real talent nor something to contribute so to hell with it, I’ll make it up as it goes and pretend I have a strong message to convey » type of thing.

And for fuck sake, please shave those fucking armpits.