Performance Art

I love that I am surrounded by art.

Recently, it was performance art, courtesy of my friend, Melissa Leebaert. Bold woman that she is, she put herself out there on stage, bravely looking at her experience of young love--in front of God and everybody.

Melissa was one of three artists performing last Monday night at the Capitol Hill Arts Workshop, as part of a showcase following the DC Solo Performance and Presentation Lab (taught by Laura Zam). The genre is a sort of story-telling session for grown-ups. Think This American Life (my favorite radio show). It also seems a little like blogging on stage (except there’s a lot more rehearsal involved).

Rob Cork went first. A self-proclaimed space geek, he took the audience from his third grade classroom, where he was inspired by a visiting NASA scientist; through Trekkie fandom; to the crushing loss of the Space Shuttle Challenger and on through his continuing fascination with space travel. Sylvia Meinert, a German world traveler, danced her way through a comic look at language and culture, her search for common ground, and a wry take on the politically correct.

But it was Melissa’s story that moved me most.

It helped that this story happened to take place in an exotic locale – Australia – and involved a wealthy man, and topless sunbathing by the pool, and lunches with ladies who had lovely accents and probably perfect manicures as well. Melissa nailed each of these elements and more, lounging by the imaginary pool and mimicking that peculiar Euro-English-worldly accent of the globe-trotting elite, pedaling an invisible bicycle down High Street and cruising behind the wheel of a new jag. With no props.

Okay, not all of us get to jet around the world on the arm of a wealthy Australian (and re-enact the dream). But I think that’s one of the elements that made the story work – the contrast between what seemed so exotic, in some ways, and the story’s center, which had nothing to do with glamour and wealth. Melissa told a simple tale about love and longing and vulnerability—with a healthy dose of adventure and independence, because that is who she is.

This is art: telling a story that is uniquely our own, yet resonates with others.

And I got to sit in on it.

Ain't art great?!?