I am a David Bowie fan…a huge Bowie fan, and have been for more years than some of my readers have probably been alive. So when it was announced that the touring exhibit “David Bowie is…” would be installed at the AGO (Art Gallery of Ontario) in the autumn of 2013 - as the second stop after the opening in London - to say I was thrilled would be something of an understatement.
Unfortunately, circumstances kept me from attending until the final weekend, but when I finally made it I was enthralled. The experience brought back so many memories of albums I’d listened to, films and videos I’d seen, and concerts I’d attended over the years.
The experience was more than worth the wait.
A couple of weeks ago, Toronto-based actor Ted Whittall (a member of the Department of Theatre at Toronto’s York University) posted a link to an essay he’d written for one of the school’s publications: http://www.yorku.ca/intent/issue7/articles/edwardwhittall.php
Entitled “David Bowie is… Hyperreal”, his paper used the exhibit as the backdrop to a fascinating discussion of ‘performance’, as it related to the artist, the surroundings and the audience…both in literal and abstract terms.
While reading it, one paragraph struck a particular chord with me. In discussing the staging of the exhibit and how the physical act of moving through it was similar to moving through Bowie’s career, Whittall writes that it did: “…give us the feeling that we are involved in a live event.”
Yes! You hit the nail squarely on the head there Ted, that was exactly how I’d felt. However, it also struck me that the one part of the exhibit that demonstrated this to me more than any other…hadn’t been mentioned in the essay. It had such a profound effect on me that almost a year later I can still close my eyes and be right back in the moment.
To explain: The final hall of the exhibit was one of the largest; high-ceilinged, with giant video screens making up three of the walls, and a number of seats and blocks that the patrons - the “audience” - could sit or lean against. Some of Bowie’s concert costumes from various eras were displayed around the edges, and more were ensconced in alcoves behind the video screens, lighting up randomly for a split second here and there.
The video screens were doing what you’d expect - playing clips of concert footage - but in a clever twist, would each be playing clips of the same song from different eras through Bowie’s career; for instance, the middle screen might have a modern performance, the left side one from the 70’s, and the right side one from the 90’s.
Of course, only one soundtrack played at the time, but it had been put together well enough that what we were listening to still ‘fit’ with whichever of the screens you chose to look at.
Adding to the magic; when I entered the room “Heroes’ was playing. Now, if this isn’t one of the most well-known, crowd-rousing songs of Bowie’s career, inclusive of fans and non-fans alike…I defy you to give me another. Did I say it was magic? It was.
We - meaning everyone - whether you knew the person next to you or not - were completely caught up in it all, as we swayed, smiled at each other, clapped & even sang along…not at all unlike being at an actual live performance.
The ‘performance’ would loop through several songs (all from different eras and concerts) for about 30 minutes, then start again. Most people seemed to be staying at least through an entire loop.
So what had initially seemed to be a real misfortune and disadvantage (going to the exhibit on a very busy Saturday afternoon, forced to shuffle along and crane my neck to see half the items from behind the crowds), had suddenly become a huge advantage.
Perhaps this is why Mr Whittall didn’t experience it - or at least not in a way that brought it to mind when writing the paper. Perhaps he went at a quieter time, and the crowds were needed to bring the whole effect to life?
Was it intentional? I have no idea; but even if not, it was certainly a glorious byproduct of the experience.
It certainly had me in a rather joyful mood as I entered the ubiquitous gift shop…exactly what the exhibit was hoping for, I’m sure!
The marquee signs for the exhibit proclaimed: “David Bowie is… here.” Well for those 30 minutes or so, he certainly was.
Who knows, maybe it was just me, the stars aligning just so to recall my concert experiences, and put me right back in one…but I don’t think so. Enough other people around me seemed to be enjoying it in much the same way.
In fact, taking it a step further, I would say that for those minutes we were as much a part of the performance - of the exhibit - as we were the audience.
Writing this has made me remember another time when Bowie’s audience became the performance - but this time, Bowie was there, for real.
Glasgow, 28 November 2003 (almost exactly a decade to the day before I saw the exhibit). Bowie was playing the SECC as part of his “A Reality Tour”. I was there, it was the last of 5 concerts I’d been to on my own little Bowie tour over-the-pond with some friends (Dublin, London & now Glasgow). The crowd was a little bit more ‘enthusiastic’ than some others (gotta love the Scots!) and we were getting jostled a wee bit in our spot down right in front of the stage, but generally everyone was happy and Bowie was most definitely in fine form.
Sometime after the midway point, Bowie was messing around at the other end of the stage when the band started the next song: “Starman”. This 1972 song was a HUGE hit in the UK and you could literally feel the buzz in the crowd as the opening chords began. Bowie, meanwhile, was beginning to make his way back to his microphone, but not quickly enough.
No problem. The crowd stepped in. In one voice, we were all singing the opening line, nearly finishing it before Bowie made it back to centre stage. There was a brief hesitation on his part as the band looked at him, wondering if he wanted them to start over (something Bowie was wont to do on occasion).
But instead, he shook his head at the band and just stood there, listening to the audience for the next few words and looking really chuffed, until he eventually joined in and sang the rest of the song…with us. It became a literal sing-a-long, and at the end Bowie was clapping for us, instead of the other way around. It was quite a moment.
As I finish this up, I’m now listening to my bootleg of that same Glasgow show…and happy memories are flooding back all over the place…just as they did last autumn at the AGO exhibit.
Thank you David Bowie, thank you AGO, and thank you Ted Whittall for writing the paper that sparked all this!
Toronto, 28 September 2014
No comments:
Post a Comment