Pic Pac Poe
Saturday, February 14, 2004
Pic Pac Poe and Neurocam Assignment 2.
"The observance of ritual is a form of the cultivation of beauty." - from page 178 of "The Magus" By John Fowles.
Last night, in an attempt to complete my second Neurocam assignment, I went to 3 Rochester St Fitzroy (A.K.A Conical). Unsure of what to expect, I arrived just in time for the start of a live performance (or was it installation art with live props?) entitled "Pic Pac Poe - The rite of exit". "Pic Pac Poe" takes the form of a ritualistic game and is the work of an artist named Jason Mailing. Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's story "The Masque of the Red Death" Jason began developed "Pic Pac Poe" at a time when he was researching "old English religious rituals and the way in which memory and repetition moulds and abstracts the form of ritual through time."
He had this to say on the information sheet handed out last night:
"I have long been interested in concerns of a similar tension in the nature of process and presentation in the form of rituals and games. A "player" may lose themselves in the rules, or structure of an activity and become oblivious to the presented narrative. Conversely a performer may play with an exterior presentation in mind and neglect the mechanics of the game. These issues present a curious compositional problem for the artist, a duality for "the player", and an unstable role for the audience."
I'm sure I'm not the only one who can see a parallel with the Neurocam experience.
The nature of "Pic Pac Poe" is described as:
"Pic Pac Poe is a rite where the "effect" is the tension between a story read, a story played and a story remembered. It exploits various literary images embedded in Poe's text, primarily the central theme of exit or inevitable death and transforms these into a series of objects and rules for a directional stepping game."
And it's mechanics are:
"The text has been split into eight sections and stamped onto a series of double-sided leather tiles that are organized in a similar way to Dominoes. The two players may only move by stepping onto the tiles one at a time and placing each subsequent tile according to colour and the physical orientation of the text. Every time a player steps onto a new tile the text on that tile must be recited. How the text is recited is up to the player."
Fascinating! So, what happened once I arrived? Well the first thing you need to know is that I received an e-mail from Robert Henley yesterday which included an additional aspect to my assignment. It read:
Graham
"I do not ask you to believe. All I ask you is to pretend to believe. It will be easier."
Well spotted, a very astute observation and very relevant to what we are trying to do with Neurocam. I am up to page 385 (The book was in fact recommended to me by one of our conceptual advisers) and it only gets better. I hope I have not given away too much by giving you this suggested reading. There is a chapter where Conchis is talking about a new kind of theatre where there is in fact no audience which is extremely interesting, especially when considering the work of artists like Peter Burke, Robin Hely and Jason Maling. However I still stress that art or even theatre is not the key to Neurocam.
On Friday you if you have time you might want to observe what is happening at 3 Rochester St. Very curious indeed, part of Js assignment. Also, an operative
known as "Z" may be turning up on the night. We are having some problems with Z and might need you to keep an eye on her. We need to know whether she is maintaining full confidentiality of Neurocam business. If you are able to, could you approach her and ask her the test question: "What is Neurocam?". If she attempts to explain her involvement we have a problem. If this is the case I will need you to approach another agent, "R" and say the following phrase: "Zed's dead". All very pulp fiction I know but we have to use naff code sometimes.
Thanks Graham and once again good luck
RH
Very curious indeed. It would appear that I am definitely not alone in the Neurocam experience.
So what happened? I arrived at Conical to find a line of people ascending up a darkened stairwell. Waiting at the top of the stairwell was a young woman who was describing the nature of the performance and handing out information sheets. I couldn't help but notice her confusion over the fact that I had a piece of paper with the letter "G" taped to my shirt. To her credit though, she didn't comment on it, nor ask any questions.
Upon stepping into the gallery the first thing that struck me was how dark the room was. The only light source was supplied by two gas lanterns which sat in the middle of the room. It was so dark in fact that I had trouble making out the detail of people's faces, let alone whether or not they were wearing a lettered piece of paper.
There were around 30-40 people milling around in the room. A large number of them were crouched near the lanterns in an attempt to read their information sheets. There were also a number of speakers around the room, from which was emanating a dark and somber soundtrack. Straining my eyes, I walked around the room looking for paper letters. I suspect any observers may have thought that I was a tad strange, or maybe even that I was a pervert - I was there alone, walking back and forth, staring intently at other people's chests.
More people filed into the room (every single one of them paused upon entry in an attempt to let their eyes adjust, thus causing something of a traffic jam at the entrance) and the soundtrack started to increase in volume. Then a young man approached me.
"Excuse me, do you have something on your chest?"
"Ummm... Yes." It was then that I noticed that he had a piece of paper with the letter "C" on his chest.
"Does it say G?" he asked me. My writing was very light and in the darkness he must have been struggling to read it.
"Yes."
"I think I've got to give you my contact details."
And with that he removed the piece of paper (and the pin which was holding it there) and handed to me (sticking me with the pin when he did so). I handed him my details which I'd written on a separate piece of paper and then he promptly left without saying another word. I put his details in my pocket (jabbing myself again with the pin in the process) and continued to mill around the room, all the time searching intently for "Z" so I that could finish the second part of my assignment.
About five minutes passed and then the sountrack in the room increased dramatically in volume. At this point there must have been about 60-70 people in the room. Everybody was now sitting against a wall waiting for the performance to begin, so I followed their lead. The time was about 7.45pm.
The two performers (one male, one female) walked into the centre of the space, donned hessian robes (monk-style), picked up the leather tiles, picked up the lanterns and began to play "Pic Pac Poe". The result was one of the most unique theatrical experiences I have ever experienced. Upon arrival, last night, I had expected to be engaged intellectually and (most likely) emotionally, I didn't, however, expect to engaged so thoroughly on a professional level. It begs the question: Why is there not more of this type of experimental theatre going on? Or, more to the point, is it going on behind the scenes and I just haven't been aware of it?
Sadly I had to leave at around 8.10pm (myself and Sharn had tickets to go see "Little Birdy"). I felt exceptionally rude leaving mid-performance but it couldn't be helped. At no time did I spot someone wearing a "Z"... I did however spot someone who I think was wearing a "R" (it was hard to tell in the extremely dim light). He was the cameraman who was set up at one end of the room and recording the performance. I wonder if "R" stands for Robert?
All in all, an amazing experience. I wonder what next week's group assignment will be. Any guesses?
"His plans were bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with barbaric lustre. There are some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he was not." - from "The Masque of the Red Death" Edgar Allan Poe.
posted by Graham @ 2:52 PM Comment (0)
Pic Pac Poe and Neurocam Assignment 2.
"The observance of ritual is a form of the cultivation of beauty." - from page 178 of "The Magus" By John Fowles.
Last night, in an attempt to complete my second Neurocam assignment, I went to 3 Rochester St Fitzroy (A.K.A Conical). Unsure of what to expect, I arrived just in time for the start of a live performance (or was it installation art with live props?) entitled "Pic Pac Poe - The rite of exit". "Pic Pac Poe" takes the form of a ritualistic game and is the work of an artist named Jason Mailing. Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's story "The Masque of the Red Death" Jason began developed "Pic Pac Poe" at a time when he was researching "old English religious rituals and the way in which memory and repetition moulds and abstracts the form of ritual through time."
He had this to say on the information sheet handed out last night:
"I have long been interested in concerns of a similar tension in the nature of process and presentation in the form of rituals and games. A "player" may lose themselves in the rules, or structure of an activity and become oblivious to the presented narrative. Conversely a performer may play with an exterior presentation in mind and neglect the mechanics of the game. These issues present a curious compositional problem for the artist, a duality for "the player", and an unstable role for the audience."
I'm sure I'm not the only one who can see a parallel with the Neurocam experience.
The nature of "Pic Pac Poe" is described as:
"Pic Pac Poe is a rite where the "effect" is the tension between a story read, a story played and a story remembered. It exploits various literary images embedded in Poe's text, primarily the central theme of exit or inevitable death and transforms these into a series of objects and rules for a directional stepping game."
And it's mechanics are:
"The text has been split into eight sections and stamped onto a series of double-sided leather tiles that are organized in a similar way to Dominoes. The two players may only move by stepping onto the tiles one at a time and placing each subsequent tile according to colour and the physical orientation of the text. Every time a player steps onto a new tile the text on that tile must be recited. How the text is recited is up to the player."
Fascinating! So, what happened once I arrived? Well the first thing you need to know is that I received an e-mail from Robert Henley yesterday which included an additional aspect to my assignment. It read:
Graham
"I do not ask you to believe. All I ask you is to pretend to believe. It will be easier."
Well spotted, a very astute observation and very relevant to what we are trying to do with Neurocam. I am up to page 385 (The book was in fact recommended to me by one of our conceptual advisers) and it only gets better. I hope I have not given away too much by giving you this suggested reading. There is a chapter where Conchis is talking about a new kind of theatre where there is in fact no audience which is extremely interesting, especially when considering the work of artists like Peter Burke, Robin Hely and Jason Maling. However I still stress that art or even theatre is not the key to Neurocam.
On Friday you if you have time you might want to observe what is happening at 3 Rochester St. Very curious indeed, part of Js assignment. Also, an operative
known as "Z" may be turning up on the night. We are having some problems with Z and might need you to keep an eye on her. We need to know whether she is maintaining full confidentiality of Neurocam business. If you are able to, could you approach her and ask her the test question: "What is Neurocam?". If she attempts to explain her involvement we have a problem. If this is the case I will need you to approach another agent, "R" and say the following phrase: "Zed's dead". All very pulp fiction I know but we have to use naff code sometimes.
Thanks Graham and once again good luck
RH
Very curious indeed. It would appear that I am definitely not alone in the Neurocam experience.
So what happened? I arrived at Conical to find a line of people ascending up a darkened stairwell. Waiting at the top of the stairwell was a young woman who was describing the nature of the performance and handing out information sheets. I couldn't help but notice her confusion over the fact that I had a piece of paper with the letter "G" taped to my shirt. To her credit though, she didn't comment on it, nor ask any questions.
Upon stepping into the gallery the first thing that struck me was how dark the room was. The only light source was supplied by two gas lanterns which sat in the middle of the room. It was so dark in fact that I had trouble making out the detail of people's faces, let alone whether or not they were wearing a lettered piece of paper.
There were around 30-40 people milling around in the room. A large number of them were crouched near the lanterns in an attempt to read their information sheets. There were also a number of speakers around the room, from which was emanating a dark and somber soundtrack. Straining my eyes, I walked around the room looking for paper letters. I suspect any observers may have thought that I was a tad strange, or maybe even that I was a pervert - I was there alone, walking back and forth, staring intently at other people's chests.
More people filed into the room (every single one of them paused upon entry in an attempt to let their eyes adjust, thus causing something of a traffic jam at the entrance) and the soundtrack started to increase in volume. Then a young man approached me.
"Excuse me, do you have something on your chest?"
"Ummm... Yes." It was then that I noticed that he had a piece of paper with the letter "C" on his chest.
"Does it say G?" he asked me. My writing was very light and in the darkness he must have been struggling to read it.
"Yes."
"I think I've got to give you my contact details."
And with that he removed the piece of paper (and the pin which was holding it there) and handed to me (sticking me with the pin when he did so). I handed him my details which I'd written on a separate piece of paper and then he promptly left without saying another word. I put his details in my pocket (jabbing myself again with the pin in the process) and continued to mill around the room, all the time searching intently for "Z" so I that could finish the second part of my assignment.
About five minutes passed and then the sountrack in the room increased dramatically in volume. At this point there must have been about 60-70 people in the room. Everybody was now sitting against a wall waiting for the performance to begin, so I followed their lead. The time was about 7.45pm.
The two performers (one male, one female) walked into the centre of the space, donned hessian robes (monk-style), picked up the leather tiles, picked up the lanterns and began to play "Pic Pac Poe". The result was one of the most unique theatrical experiences I have ever experienced. Upon arrival, last night, I had expected to be engaged intellectually and (most likely) emotionally, I didn't, however, expect to engaged so thoroughly on a professional level. It begs the question: Why is there not more of this type of experimental theatre going on? Or, more to the point, is it going on behind the scenes and I just haven't been aware of it?
Sadly I had to leave at around 8.10pm (myself and Sharn had tickets to go see "Little Birdy"). I felt exceptionally rude leaving mid-performance but it couldn't be helped. At no time did I spot someone wearing a "Z"... I did however spot someone who I think was wearing a "R" (it was hard to tell in the extremely dim light). He was the cameraman who was set up at one end of the room and recording the performance. I wonder if "R" stands for Robert?
All in all, an amazing experience. I wonder what next week's group assignment will be. Any guesses?
"His plans were bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with barbaric lustre. There are some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he was not." - from "The Masque of the Red Death" Edgar Allan Poe.
posted by Graham @ 2:52 PM Comment (0)
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home