So last month I attended an annual event called Nuit Blanche that I look forward to exponentially with each year, and each year I come away disappointed, yearning for what could have been. I've had this blog in my drafts for awhile and there will likely be a part two- part one is thus required :)
A quick update on what NB is all about: <begin ramble>
It’s an all night city wide modern arts event, starting at sunset (this year at 6:55pm) and concluding officially at 6:55am. The exhibits showcase every form of “art” from interpretive dance, sculpture aAnd paintings to the more subjective, interpretive pop culture statements/satirical comments and interactive activities (such as storytelling and other downright obscure artistic expressions)
This year, my favourite was as usual, the first display I happened upon: a traveling techno/native dancer decked out in a neon traditional “Indian” outfit stomping his feet and shakin his booty like he was at a pow-wow rave. -->Indian... a politically incorrect term considering its inaccuracy, hence the quotation marks... but the event was titled Going Indian so perhaps the misnomer is less offensive than I assumed? Not my place to say...
Next up was the most unforgettable event of the evening: three carnival rides run by some fellows who lost their jobs in the financial sector during the recession – meant to mirror the dips and turns in the stock market/economy. I later made my way back to this ride when the line-up was less everlasting. Whew, what a rush that was! :P
Err, so I lied there, maybe the Small Mercies exhibit where they doled out grey fleecy blankets, overly burnt sour hot chocolate and mini sausages on a wooden spike cooked over a metal barrel was the most memorable. (nb. It was fair trade gourmet Jamie Kennedy hot chocolate!! Kinda defeats the purpose of living a refugee’s life in my opinion)
Anyhow, so now you know what Nuit Blanche embodies! <end ramble>
So... I began the evening all bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to take on the city. My friends hadn’t arrived at our meeting point yet and were running late so I walked around on my own some and took in the wonder of the night. I LOVED IT!! The hustle and verve of the crowd, the sights and sounds... so much fun!
Another friend of mine was squatting nearby on a photography mission and so we wandered together whilst he snapped a few pics of the goings on.
When L and crew (the one who owns the cats I mothered for a month) finally came on the scene I tendered my Adieu to James and relaxed in the bar they had parked in until the males in said crew had their fill of ale. Unfortunately, when they did set out, all the boys wanted was to settle at the next pub. It seems they had an agenda at odds with my own to never be sober.
L and another girl, S were game for touring the sights, but corralling a group of nine people, is awkward at best... and unmanageable when four of those participants have no interest in following!
The remainder of my time spent with the group was frustrating and lacking in the enthusiasm or respect deserved by the great White Night.
I will not deny it, much of the “art” was non-traditional and left us scratching our noggins instead of tapping our noses. This led to the boys singling out random signage or objects, pointing, and loudly declaring “ART!!!”.
At first it was amusing... and then it was pardonable... and then... well let’s not go there.
Of course, it didn’t help that the exhibit summaries were nonsensical, convoluted and vague... often giving little indication as to what the event actually denoted/contained. I freely admit that these deficient descriptions are partially responsible for encouraging the rowdy behaviour and sarcastic comments put forth by many in the group... in fact it doesn’t surprise me. However I was dispirited by the experience in general.
After roaming for a few hours, the main crew decided to depart for their beds, while I chose to remain downtown until 7 like a true devotee to the festival.
I met up with (yes another friend!) D, my only male childhood bestie. I convinced him to try the Fun Slide with me, and then traipsed around the core downtown area. Most events were closing down so we were mostly biding time until the trains began running. I took the 7:20am bus home, and immediately dumped myself into bed for a few hours to dream the dream that could have been.
So, getting to the point of this blog... I reiterate the point... I was sorely dissatisfied with the outcome of the night! Every single person I crossed paths with, save S, expressed some sort of negative attitude about the art. Why couldn’t they just shrug and move on to the next piece?? Yes, some of it was lame, but it meant something to the artist, so who am I (a lover of lame-o scrabble and Star Trek) to judge that which I don’t understand?
Had the artist been there, I would have posted two cents for their thoughts and surely gained some reasonable perspective on the piece.
Ah well, here’s to Nuit Blanche 2010. Anyone care to join me?
xx
~Azalia
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