Parallel Octave is back to meeting again today after a two-week hiatus for Artscape and Whartscape. It’s our first meeting of the smaller core group, which will occur before the open session. Core group is working on “Emperor of Ice-Cream” again, trying to see what happens if we have it memorized–open session will be our first time working on the text of a living poet, Ric Royer. The poem is his book-length work “the weather not the weather.”

After that, I am also going to try to make potsticker dough from scratch if I’m feeling crazy.

(This is a post I wrote in April, when ||8ve started out, and then never put online. I think now that the group feels more secure as an entity, it’s safe to share it. )

I recently (in April) edited an essay for a friend at Hopkins, on the subject of pilgrimage literature. One of the books he referred to was Carlos Castaneda’s The Teachings of Don Juan; A Yaqui Way of Knowledge, which is a fictional narrative, disguised as an anthropological report, about experimentation with hallucinogenic substances. (I know, I know, but hear me out.) I did not try any of the substances (which would have been pretty difficult to obtain in the state of Maryland, anyway) — I only read the book. Out of curiosity.

It’s a flawed book, and reading it made me feel like I was watching a form of spiritual pornography. You don’t want to look, but you don’t want to not have seen it if everyone else has. (It’s funny how being in a writing program makes me feel that I have to have officially condemned the text.)

But one thing that was resonant to me in it was the idea that someone seeking knowledge has to overcome fear before he or she can progress further. I do not think I have overcome fear — in fact, I think I have to deal with it on a daily basis. But apparently the way to overcome fear is to do just that, to go on acting despite it. Eventually this will either neutralize the fear or, if not that, lead you to a state where the fear is no longer a problem.

This relates to all sorts of endeavors, artistic and personal (no difference, really…) where you, that is to say I, that is to say the endeavorer, do[es] not and cannot have control over the endeavor. Writing is a pleasant exception to this — no one has control over writing but the writer.

So what are you to do about that? About not having control? Keep going, or else lock yourself in a room. And try to fear less.

As many times as I have now seen living, breathing choruses on stage, whether put there by me or by other people, I am still afraid, each time I enter into a chorus exercise, that this time it somehow won’t work — that our work will not suffice. That, somehow, this time, the chorus which I have seen come from individual voices so many times will not emerge.

Fear is a feature of risky endeavors, just like some of us have better eyes than others. We all go on trying to see with whatever lenses we possess. I don’t know how to not be afraid. There was a time in my life when I did not work with actors and musicians. There have been times in my life, some of them long, in between productions or projects, when I feared that I would never have the opportunity again. I do not know how to not think of those things.

I think this is one reason why many directors I know go straight from one project to another.

And as for that state of mind where fear is no longer a problem, I am nowhere near it. The most I can do is say to myself, “I acknowledge that I am afraid.” And then move forward.

I write about this, though, because having this chorus working group is something I have wanted for a long time, and have known was the next logical step in the work I do. And yet I have avoided it, reasoning, I think, against reason, that if I didn’t do it, I couldn’t be disappointed by it. Well, I am doing it. I am not disappointed. It is incredible. It — I — yes. Many things. Many, many, many things. But first things first. We have some recordings and we’re going to make more.

I hope that whatever fears you have do not keep you from your work.

Last night, we did our first in-home Baltimore ||8ve field recording session. Sound files not up yet, it’ll probably be awhile, because more is involved here. We visited the home of two actors, prepared with recording equipment and poems. No music. We recorded their voices with the intention of adding music and effects later. We read some Dickinson and some Bishop.

This is a new dimension of the project, and one I’m excited to keep exploring.

There seem to be 3 main parts to what we’re doing now:

(1) – weekly improv sessions, to keep up the record-a-poem-a-week business, and to keep the work open to anyone who is interested in choruses. With improvised music. First take, final take, etc.

(2) – field recordings (I don’t know what to call this): going to the homes, theaters, studios of people who want to collaborate with us but can’t make regular times. These are going to incorporate more composed music, more post-production, and also include the intention of working with people who have previous experience together, like theatrical ensembles, families, couples, etc. Our theory–my theory, inasmuch as I have one, again–is that there are choruses all over the place, people who are used to speaking and working in unison. We might as well record them.

(3) – core group meetings, where a much smaller group of people with a long-term commitment to the project work on memorized texts, with the goal of eventual performances. We’re going to have our first one of these on Saturday.

For some reason, the ||8ve site itself doesn’t seem like the place to put all these ramblings about process and what we’re doing and not doing. I like how streamlined it is. I’m glad this blog still accepts my meanderings.

I’m going to have to write this up properly and add it to the “About” section of that site.

New sound files up on ||8ve website: James Wright’s “At The Executed Murderer’s Grave,” William Blake’s LONDON.

On Saturday, the ||8ve group that assembled talked about the possibility of doing some projects requiring more rehearsal or memorization, as well as working with longer texts, or even collaborating with some visual/physical performers. These all seem like good ideas to me: better, now, after having watched THIS IS IT on Friday. I was very inspired by the professionalism of Michael Jackson and his dancers, and it made me want to do something more finished, as opposed to starting from scratch every week.

I like the format that ||8ve has right now, where it’s low-stress, where anyone can come, etc. But it seems like there ought to be possibilities for something more, beyond the poem-a-week. Something where we could build on old work.

I don’t know if it’s going to happen immediately, or at all. But twelve weeks of sessions has definitely left many of us curious what else is possible.

The website for the chorus project I’ve been working on since April is finally at a point that I can make it more public. I’ve probably said some vague things about it before now, but, basically, we meet every week to record a poem with music, and the chorus forms from whoever shows up.

I now have sound files up for every week except two, the time and location of our next meeting announced, and a page archiving the best takes we’ve done. Here it is. Please have a look, or come work with us on Saturday.

http://paralleloctave.wordpress.com