Nova Ahead 22
So Caitlen and I have been working on these livestreams together since January, but before that we were having meetings and testing out ideas, trying to figure out the best way to provide some semblance of live programming from our stage. We got into OBS (Open Broadcaster Software), and one of the first things we came up with, well before we were really comfortable with this tool, was wanting to produce some kind of live television spectacular. It just seemed so possible, and so fun; it really brings me to this place where I’m thinking about the Muppet Show, and what it must have been like to see what that looked like behind the scenes. With anything live, as someone on the other side of the camera, there are tons of wires to be careful of, shots framed to exclude lights or weird reflections, things to check and double check, and then of course last minute troubleshooting. Not to mention an entire show unfolding parallel to maintaining the technical aspects of the production. It was hard to focus on what we would actually do for this very special program, but luckily the perfect partner was sitting right in a list of upcoming livestreams.
I may confuse some of this history, even misspeak, but part of the fun of this essay project is to angle my narrative into a bit of myth; also some of the actual facts may be foggy through a matter of time or bleary hindsight. It was the year two thousand and saxophone, I was recovering from my second band breakup in a five year period and had decided that I would just play songs by myself for a while. I ended up doing my set on a stage made up of a couple of pallets in a wooded section of a sprawling yard in Nottingham NH. My confidence was low and I wasn’t even really sure what I was doing with regard to songwriting etc, and now I was in a strange place looking like I might be singing to someone’s family that I barely knew. I may have even trotted out my long gone friend’s old Sigma, the first guitar I ever played when he would try to duplicate the guitar lessons he was taking at 12. It was bought at Ed’s Auction, and eventually some demented troll stepped through it when we took an ill-fated Greyhound bus trip to Government Camp, Oregon, fueled by throwback priced McDonald’s hamburgers, Winston Lights, and a shared walkman. We let some youngsters (among them, the troll) stay in our apartment while we were away, thinking we’d be helping them out; they trashed the place. We returned home to a hole through that guitar, the tv in the bathtub, and a filth I had thought would take more than two weeks to accumulate. Eventually, Mary had the Sigma fixed up, though it still wasn’t up to the task of holding standard tuning, so I kept it a few steps down in some variation of open C. Anyway, getting to play this guitar to people was a special, and first time, occurrence, and the old crinkly notes sprang and thwumped around the pine needles, blending with the friendly, listening vibe of that sweet place.
That was my first taste of what had begun as the Pawtuckaway Takedown, a fully diy explosion of art, music, aerialists, and innovative theatrical interpretation. After that, I tried always to return to that somewhat seacoast adjacent forest to see what kind of madness these folks would cook up. One year in particular, they performed a breathtaking rendition of Steven Spielberg’s film E.T, and maybe it was because I still have memories of seeing that in the theatre in 1983, from the alien feet tramping through the brush, distressed and panicked, to the soaring moment when the kids’ bikes take to the sky, just thinking about it gets me choked up. Afterward, I lay by the fire, looking up into the sky and felt like I was perched on the front of a rocket, speeding faster and faster into space, stars turning into lines beside me, on the edge of anxiety. But I kept the feeling that was given to me so freely by this group of friends out in the woods, the feeling of belonging and openness, and I turned my face toward space and leaned in. I could see what they were doing with the Takedown, with Sue’s Space, with their friends in Wrong Brain, even with the insane Takedown Wrestling; they were calling out to anyone that needed community and could get on board with the bizarre galaxy of brains that made up these groups. I found it to be inspiring and invigorating.
So, this Friday, I invite you to put your feet in this batty, wild pool. It can get far out, even downright bizarre at times, but this aesthetic is born out of joy and searching, and finding the joy in that search. It’s staying up all night with friends, hatching schemes that most of us might abandon in the light of day, only to our own detriment when it means burying our innocence and vulnerability. Caitlen and I are very excited to be working with Two Wild and Crazy Guys, Skimmed Milk, the Noah Lefebvre Experience, and Cryropractor, to bring to you a primer on this insanity. The pandemic robbed the world of last year’s Takedown, and Sue’s Space had to close, though I’m sure it will be reborn elsewhere. Wrong Brain is still kicking though, and proceeds from this livestream will be going to them, so grab a pay what you want ticket, and strap in for something that will probably feel a little like UHF, a Pinewood Derby, and the Gong Show all rolled into one, through the lens of Star Search reruns upside down on your best friend’s couch.
Eric Gagne is the Programming Director at Nova Arts, and has spent the last thirteen years booking The Thing in the Spring. He also played many shows over the past decades with Death to Tyrants, Sisters and Brothers, and Redwing Blackbird, and is actively recording and performing with his band Footings.