Tonight that was El Anatsui, one of the contemporary African artists in the Anderson Gallery's new show, which I'd been thoroughly impressed by.
When asked how he got his artistic start, he said, "The letter 'g' was very intriguing to me. In kindergarten I'd take my slate and sit in front of signs and write the letters. I didn't know what they meant but I liked the forms."
I don't know what's more fascinating to me: his early dedication to form or that he used a slate.
After years using wood and then clay, he now uses discarded aluminum tops from Nigerian liquor bottles to fashion large-scale wall hangings, three of which are at the Anderson.
Why bottle tops? Because liquor was used for trading by Europeans with the Africans, consequently it also became part of the slave trade.
"The art I create is data," he explained to the rapt audience. "I like to see how people interact with my data."
When a student asked the nonsensical question, "What advice would you give to an American artist starting out?" the look on the artist's face was priceless.
Given that Anatsui had talked about his writing slate and his trips to the marketplace where he'd first seen artists printing on textiles, drummers and weavers, it was hard to fathom what commonalities the student might have anticipated.
"Advice? I don't give advice," he explained patiently.
It's a good thing Anatsui also teaches back in Nigeria; he's undoubtedly used to the inane question or two.
My grandmother used to say, "Never be embarrassed for somebody else," but good god, even the people behind me tittered when they heard the question.
I had every intention of sliding over to Ipanema for a (*sigh*) drink before my next engagement but instead ran into a chatty acquaintance who took up all my free time before I had to be at the Firehouse Theater.
Tonight was yet another installment of the Tennessee Williams Centennial Celebration and as a person with a certified nerd badge, I wanted to be there.
They were doing a staged reading of "The Night of the Iguana" and since I'd neither read it nor seen it, I was eager to get a good seat.
B9 didn't fail me.
As my seatmates and I acknowledged, it was half-play and half-reading with the actors sometimes engaging in some very physical action.
Let's just say that a script sitting in for a liquor cart took quite a beating.
Of course Williams always give the viewer alcohol (in this play it was rum and Cocas) and evocative language to live by.
“Yea, well, you know we live on two levels, the realistic level and the fantastic level and which is the real one, really?”
A question I ask myself often.
"Do I look like a vamp?
"They come in all types."
Never judge a vamp by her cover. She may have secret nerd badges.
"There are worse things than chastity, Mr. Shannon."
"Yea, lunacy and death."
To be honest, none of them hold much appeal.
"Accept whatever situation you cannot improve."
Haven't I seen this embroidered on a pillow somewhere?
"You're bigger than life and twice as unnatural."
Still can't decide if this is a compliment or an insult.
I suppose I'd have to hear it said to me before I'd know how to take it.
And even then, it would probably depend on who it was coming from.
But then, doesn't everything?
