We’re busily working on our next show, coming in September of 2017. Our 2016 show was a great success, and we are looking forward to phase two. I’m already getting my hands dirty. And sticky. With more resin.
The Silent City: Part I is installed, the performances are over… nothing left to do now except sleep and analyze. Oh– and thank people!
We would like to thank the following people and places for their contributions of time, funds, and moral support:
Paco Proano – pacoproano.com
ABGB (please go support them and drink their beer and eat their pizza)
MOHA, Zac Traeger
Voyager Music Productions
PLEASE FORGIVE US if we let anyone off… Our brains are still a bit mushy. We would love to include you in this list and give you the props you deserve. Send Wendy an email!!
I’ve been thinking about the slides, wondering if I could either project them onto the floor or onto the resin from the inside.
I tried fashioning a projector out of a tiny single LED flashlight and a magnifying glass and some cardboard, but the light wasn’t strong enough. Either we’d need stronger lights, or I need to move on to the next idea.
One thought would be to try to project the slides onto the resin, with lights on the inside.
Tomorrow, perhaps I’ll start some resin experiments. I’m anxious to see what what happens when I pour over theatre gels and/or cellophane. I’ve always had a thing for “decoders” ever since I pulled one out of a cereal box when I was little!
Oh, and here’s what my first crude slide projector experiments were looking like (note these took place on my bed, because hey, sometimes inspiration strikes at 11pm and the only materials you have around are the ones in your recycling bin):
I’m thinking the tiny projectors would need to be small enough to fit inside our hanging slip-cast ceramic cups, so they would project straight on to the floor (which I guess we would either have to paint or cover with something white. But no dice so far.
Maybe I’ll stop by Austin Creative Reuse tomorrow to see if they happen to have some better things to serve as lenses. The one I was using was the magnifying glass from the “third hand” in soldering kit, and it’s pretty large and heavy.
Ooh! I happen to occasionally play trivia with a team of astrophysicists on Wednesday nights, so I bet they can tell me a whole lot about lenses… I’ll see if they have any advice!
This weekend, I did some materials research. I am now the proud owner of a box of slow-drying resin, a bunch of plastic mat cutter templates, several rolls of scientific paper, a bottle of blue transparent resin dye, some awesome green wool felt, two packages of olive green envelopes (small and large), several incomplete sets of vinyl number and letter stickers, and a handful of old slides from people’s vacations in the late 60’s / early 70’s.
The bulk of this haul was purchased from Austin Creative Reuse and cost pretty much next to nothing. The resin and resin dye, however, were from a regular less awesome store and were thus full price, so I am going to try to be sensible with my experiments.
Last night, I went to see Lauren play a rather experimental orchestra show, Conduction, at MOHA. While I was silently sitting there listening to the improvisational extravaganza, I was not, as my friend Elizabeth McQueen later had me clarify, asleep. I was in fact open-eyed and staring up at the ceiling, counting the number of metal rafters and and the distances in between them, trying to come up with a logical and simple design for hanging our speakers and lights.
The rafters form a grid, whereas I want a circle.
There are two options here:
1. be a hack and figure out how to make a circle
2. be sensible and make the design fit the space
Of course option number two is the easiest and most elegant. But option number one just seems so much more… fun. I like a challenge. Being a hack is one thing, but being an elegant hack is another. And I strive to be an elegant hack. This calls for much forethought and a whole lot of measuring and drawing things to scale and staring at things while people think you’re asleep.
All of these things are close to the root of why I enjoy these sorts of projects. That and the emotional content, which Elizabeth and I discussed in great detail later in the evening, with regard to the Conduction show… but that is for another day.
So here’s what I’m thinking. We just suspend a bunch of poles across the existing rafters and make whatever sort of grid we’d need to support a big circle. Like this (excuse my crude phone and finger drawing):It’s not like anyone would be able to see the poles- and it’s not like they’d look any different from the rest of the ceiling anyway. The two biggest concerns are cost and security. We obviously wouldn’t want them to fall… So I’m thinking they have to be metal and hollow and we can string braided metal cable through them, securing them on each end. That’s not gonna fall. And we could drill holes through the poles to tie the hanging string in place without shifting.
That said, why couldn’t we just use metal cable by itself? Pull very tightly. Turnbuckles! Oh how I love turnbuckles! I can’t understand how I navigated life prior to my discovery of them only a few years ago. Now I want to incorporate them into making a omelet.
Anyway. Just using metal cable would work, right?Of course then we wouldn’t have to do a grid or a circle… We could do any sort of of shape​.
I think I need to sleep on it.
In our last meeting, Lauren and I were talking about the direction blog is taking. Actually, Lauren was asking, and I was evading.
See, I’ve written about a hundred blog entries in my head… and on my Notes app on my phone. But as for publishing them on here? Let’s just say: Nope, not yet.
I was about to tell Lauren that I wanted to switch directions completely– you know, start over with my blog concept.
My blog concept, by the way, was to actually document the process of creating this piece, so it’s kind of hilarious to me that my first thought was to say I want to completely rewrite all of the blog entries that I haven’t written yet so that they now fit this new concept for the blog that doesn’t yet exist.
So then I realized, um, the reimagining and reformulating and planning and all of that good stuff was my concept in the first place. And thus, I am officially letting you all know that my initial concept, of which you know nothing, has now shifted.
There, that’s a fine introductory entry.