Friday, 28 September 2012

Karoulla takes control...

Show Name: I Love Criticulous and Criticulous Loves Me
Artist: Gareth K Vile
Venue: Arches LIVE 2012
Date: Sat 29 Sep 2012 |2pm onwards | Foyer| Free

Descriptions (from The Arches Website): He took confession, investigated murder, chatted to stars and was locked up in a basement for his art. Now Criticulous faces the ultimate challenge: collaboration. 

Unwilling to admit that criticism is not the original art form, Criticulous fights his ego and mounting anxiety to present a series of pieces that brings dance, radio, dialectics, sculpture and the audience into his relentless quest to understand a world he did not create but reflects.
Contains desperation. 

To whom it may concern,

Eric here. Vile is out for a cigarette, with Criticulous nagging at him about his divine qualities. 

I can't say I know what Criticulous is up to, although he mentioned tomorrow is to be "the final Criticulous performance" and "supposed to be the last part of the Criticulous Trilogy". 

But then, how does Vile plan to expel or retire Criticulous? 

Also, he intends to wrap up a trilogy, which doesn't adhere to the structure of our beloved Classical Greek tragedies (prologue, parode, episode, stasimon, exodus, epilogue) and doesn't even consult the ancients. 

Furthermore, he has broken all unities - unity of place and time as well as continuity of action (albeit one might argue rules were made to be broken).


Then again, the parodeepisode and stasimon would require the unified voice of a chorus, for a dialogue to occur, and I don't see anyone stepping up to the plate to represent that. 

Where does that leave us?

Well, tomorrow, I will be busy being part of the furniture, while our audience members  (aka willing victims) will step in as actors, therefore once again there is a gap to be filled.

What's more, the agon (literally: struggle, fight, debate) between our two main characters rests between Vile and Criticulous. 

So is Mr. Vile simply externalising an internal dilemma, torn between two identities (he's lucky there aren't more) or is he asking me to mediate in his interrogation of the audience of our chosen artform?

(well, he chose it and I was sucked into the black hole...)

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