txt at Urban ReThink

Conceptual artist Brian Feldman has one more performance of txt tonight, July 25th at 7pm at Urban ReThink (625 East Central Blvd.). I sat in on the first of three performances to sketch. I have seen txt performed several times before and was entertained every time. For the first time, I signed into the proper Twitter account and was prepared to send Brian a txt during the performance to be read aloud. Brian walked out and sat at the spindly desk waiting for his cell phone to vibrate. He read, "Let's get started with a couple of ground rules." Terry was busy munching on a bag of potato chips. I wrote my first txt, he read, "Rule number 1. No eating!" He shouted it out, pointing at Terry. I placed my phone on the floor and forgot about it as I lost myself in the sketch.

"Thor is wearing a shirt he bought in North Carolina." Terry must have written that, I thought. I looked at my shirt. Funny, I don't remember buying it in North Carolina. Tod Caviness walked in late. "This guy is late," Brian announced. I raised my hopes thinking Tod would offer some literary subtlety to the strange meaningless flow of ideas. As always, the unfiltered thoughts turned to sex. "Raise your hand if you want to have a 3 or 4 way later." "Oh, there are swingers in the room?!" "Rule number 16, if no one laughs I'm going to stand on Thor's shoulders and fart in your face." Who on earth wrote that? I thought. Do I know that person. Do I want to know that person? "Rule number 237. No sex in the champagne room with Thor." What?! I blushed. Alright, who wrote that? More important was it a man or woman? I looked around for a guilty face. Where on earth is the champagne room? I need to go sketch it now."Sex in the champagne room at Hue. See you at 8." Well that answers that question anyway, Hue is a night club. "I would totally rock Thor's hammer." "OK, who mentioned sex with Thor? It wasn't his wife and if she finds you she will scratch your eyes out." "Why is everyone talking about Thor, lets chat about Green Lantern! He is great too!" Thank Odin, the conversation wasn't about me at all. I'm so vain.

Across from me Peter Murphy was sitting next to Colleen Burns. She wore a blue dress. "Hey girl in the blue dress, don't wear a bra next time." I looked up at Colleen her mouth was open, aghast. "Awkward." Brian announced. "Later on I'm going to get down with that lady in the... (my eyes are bad)... The Blue dress!" "My boyfriend is obsessed with the girl in the blue dress." "The girl in the blue dress is taken." Well that settles that, I thought. "Imagine me planking on the lady in the blue dress later. Ha!" Colleen seemed to take all the attention with humor. "I am NEVER wearing a blue dress ever again!"

With no filters, no social niceties, people don't have a need for polite meaningful conversation. The Internet has unleashed an age of unrestricted self-expression and the results are often brash and ugly. Tapping out every thought that pops into our heads isn't art. Having contributed to this performance by tapping out my one tweet, I felt a little dirty. I was complicit in the crime of random expression. This show shocked and amazed me every time I saw it. It is a guilty pleasure. Several evenings later I saw Colleen at another event. She was wearing a blue dress.

txt at the Telephone Museum

As part of ArtsFest, Brian Feldman held a performance of "txt" at the Telephone Museum in Maitland (221 West Packwood Avenue). The very first time I sketched Feldman, he was performing "txt" at the Kerouac House. Brian specifically grew his beard back for this one performance. I found my vantage point in the front row before anyone else arrived. I also set up my video camera which recorded the performance from the back of the room next to a telephone booth. Ancient phones loomed above Feldman's head and photos of switchboard operators were on the walls. There were perhaps thirty or so folding chairs set up in front of the large oak desk where he sat.

The idea of "txt" is that the audience supplies every line of dialogue that is spoken. Fifty protected Twitter accounts are set up so that each audience member can send a tweet directly to Brian's show account, all of which are redirected to his phone thus keeping every entry completely private. Before the performance space was opened, Feldman crawled under the desk to wait for his entrance. When the fifteen or so people were seated, he crawled back out and sat in the leather chair causing laughter.

The young couple across from me immediately started tapping on their phones. The girl resembled actress Julianne Moore. She kept glancing at her boyfriend's phone, not sure what she should type. She kept laughing at his entries. Brian's phone vibrated and he picked it up. He read, "Football may be America's pastime, but basketball players sweat much more." I glanced around thinking I knew where the text came from. For this performance, Feldman acted out and dramatized his readings. One text read, "The man in the front row blushes whenever he laughs." I was one of three men in a front row seat. I was certainly laughing. Was I blushing? Could people see emotion and expression just from the involuntary rush of blood through my veins?

I focused more intently on the drawing. Remarks were made about the corporate looking portrait above Feldman's head, and about a creepy mannequin dressed as a telephone repairman. An early text warned against using profane language since women and children were in the audience. Surprisingly everyone complied. I consider "txt" to be Feldman's signature performance piece and it would be great to see it performed in a larger venue. There is something interesting in clandestine, anonymous communication that indicates where we are moving as an interconnected society.

Digital Seance

I returned to the Kerouac house to see a second performance of txt. I realized after my first sketch that the performance wasn't so much about the man reading the text messages, Brian Feldman, but it was about the uninhibited comments that came from the audience who remained anonymous writing the script on there iPhones and PDAs. This time I sat in the far back corner of the living room so I could sketch as much of the audience as I could. The performance was again peppered with sexual innuendo and some paranoia. This time Brian was asked to do more physical actions such as jumping jacks. One unexpected incident occurred when he said, "Get me a cup of water, I am parched, this isn't in the script I really need a cup of water". Kim darted into the kitchen to get a cup of water. After the performance Brian indicated that the call for water was just another text message. I found myself laughing louder than ever at this performance. The uninhibited mind is a strange and quirky beast. I was fascinated by the glow of the PDAs through red thumbs and fingers. The small room crowded with people again made the reading feel like a digital seance.

txt

txt was a performance by Brian Feldman at the Jack Kerouac house in College Park. The premise of the performance piece was that the audience would text the script to Brian as he performed by reading his iPhone. A small stage was set up in front of the fireplace in the living room and 2 lamps were placed on either side of the stage as foot lights.
The performance felt more like a digital seance rather than a simple reading. All thumbs and index fingers were busy typing as Brian started to read a strange disjointed mix of ideas. His reading was peppered with sexually explicit language that even comedian George Carlin might be embarrassed by. I began to think I was in the room with a mix of lunatics rather than a quaintly bohemian audience. That guy in the back row looked like he was having way to much fun as he typed his entries. He must have been the one who typed over and over that fingers are people.
At one point Brian glanced at a message and turned to look at a picture of Jack Kerouac on the wall behind him. He then recited, "That Jack Kerouac is a hunk, I'd do him". Had a woman in the audience really typed that? Could the guy giggling to himself in the back row have typed that? I found myself laughing uncontrollably at the absurdity of many of the texts being transmitted.
The young couple in the sketch had to share an iPhone. First she would text and then she would hand it off so he could text. My wife, Terry, said than none of her texts had been recited. That caused me to think afterward that perhaps like a seance not everything was as it seemed. Regardless I was certainly entertained.
Post Script: A number of participants informed me that without a doubt all texts were strictly written by audience. Texting seems to unlock inhibitions, it offers a chance to write things that would never be said under normal circumstances. txt was a Mad Lib with an emphasis on Mad.