If I had to choose one word to describe this performance, it would be raw. At all stages in the show, you could feel the vulnerability, the power of these dancers. The performers presented their hearts and minds in a web of art forms – interlocking movement, comedy, poetry, and music. Their roles as performers, but also their individual identities, were never hidden from us.

As audience members trickled into the Englert, handpicking their seats on the floor, we watched the dancers stretch and warm up. Their bodies bent and contorted in impressive ways, but not in a boastful way. It was a glimpse into the world of dance and the community built between performers. They rehearsed moves and conversed with each other, occasionally waving to the audience as they spotted a familiar face. Immediately, the audience was immersed along side them on their stage – no boundaries or exclusivity.

The show was divided into three acts, all directed and choreographed by Jennifer Kayle, associate professor at the University of Iowa. Kayle also co-directs the university’s MFA program. The three acts were titled “Nocturne for Sleepwalkers,” “Turns at the Intersection,” and “Another Stage of Staging Ourselves.”

When the first act began, you could feel the dancers shift into focus. The performers delivered their moves with unmatched liveliness. The audience laughed and grinned as the performers tossed pillows back and forth – a visual expression of the energy exchanged between them. They delivered comedy exclusively through motion, calling Charlie Chaplin to mind.

The second act, “Turns at the Intersection,” maintained the first act’s palpable energy, but expanded its influence beyond choreography. The back curtain of the Englert’s stage lifted to reveal two sound technicians who worked in tandem with the dancers to create an improvised performance. The hypnotic, pulsing soundtrack intermingled with the dancers’ intermittent narrations. Taking turns at the mic, some performers briefly detailed their experiences. Others ventured into the audience, asking for our experiences to narrate the movements unfolding onstage. The musicians then remixed and echoed these sound bites, creating a surreal atmosphere of total truth.

The experience was severe in its simultaneous approachability and intimidating rawness. The act concluded with two duets, inspired by weightlessness, which we had just seen be developed, reworked, and finalized. These overlapping art forms captured the human experience in a stunning and inspiring way. I have so much respect for the creativity, vulnerability, and genius of these artists.

Brady Van Patten and Zachary Bird performed the third and final act. The duo once again immersed the audience in their creative process by combining choreography and dialogue. The pair effortlessly transitioned from comedy to vulnerability, raw movement to narration. You could never guess their next step. Each phase revealed a new truth about the performance and the performers.

Brady and Zach boldly retold the intricacies of queer identities and relationships. They tore open the pushes and pulls of life – the forces that act on all of us but seem so personal. The performance capitalized on the anticipated intensity and the liberation of honesty.

All three acts of this performance completely blew me away. Its intentional mystery left the interpretation of this piece to the audience. Every moment infused centering and reflection. The performers silenced our minds and awakened our hearts, forcing us to acknowledge how unique this night was, that there would only be one performance like this. “Another Stage of Staging Ourselves” perfectly encapsulated the humanity of movement and art.

The post Witching Hour Review: Another Stage of Staging Ourselves appeared first on KRUI Radio.

But what about a Mayan flute? Drawing a blank, huh?

Mexican-American DJ and producer DEBIT conjures up more than just music in her new album, “The Long Count.” Using obscure sonic material (archival recordings of ancient Mayan flutes, for example), DEBIT explores the sounds within sound.

The album’s eighth track, “4th Day,” is free of melody, beat, motif, and virtually any other musical component that one might expect. Casual listeners and audiophiles alike are forced to make sense of something different. Easy listening? Not at all. The experience requires feeling, not just active/passive listening.

Her newest work departs from 2018’s electronica-driven “Animus”, her debut effort, but they share much of the same DNA. From the beginning, DEBIT has strived to avoid repetitive tropes and canned sounds, instead finding unique sources of inspiration. In a recent article, The Guardian deemed her music “deliciously strange.”

Her polymorphous, soundscape, and ambient work challenges many Western music concepts. While you could compare her to some well-known ambient artists, like U2 or Moby, DEBIT occupies a liminal space that’s all her own.

DEBIT has DJ’ed across North & South America since 2010. She has appeared at Ghetto Gothic, MIXPAK, and performed with Kode9, ARCA, Nick Hook, Jubilee, and more. Join her at the James Theater in Iowa City at 7:30 p.m., Sept. 17.

The post Witching Hour Preview: DEBIT’s liminal sound appeared first on KRUI Radio.

I arrived at Gabe’s almost an hour early, so I had plenty of time to take in the pre-show scenery. A combination of pink, green, and blue LED lights lit up the stage against the otherwise dark background.

Maret’s show was preceded by an eerie selection of techno music. The sinister-sounding scrapes, heavy bass, and garbled vocals nearly scared me out of the upcoming performance. But as Maret’s show drew closer, the music mellowed ever so slightly, easing my nerves.

To my surprise, at 8:59 p.m. Maret stepped out from right behind me and made her way to the stage. I didn’t realize that the person having a casual conversation with the man behind me was the artist that I had come to watch and review.

The blue light faded so Maret was surrounded only by pink and green. Her shirt had intricate geometric patterns, and her laptop was adorned with a butterfly sticker and another sticker that read: “You don’t hate Mondays, you hate capitalism.”

As soon as Maret began performing, any pre-show fears I had were immediately calmed. The winding synths were very pleasing to the ear, and the music pulled me into a trance.

Maret seemed like she was in a trance of her own, as she bobbed her head back and forth to her own sounds, working to find the right vibe. Watching her turn various dials on her synthesizer was like seeing a perfectionist at work. She made small, delicate movements focused on her craft.

In fact, instead of feeling like I was watching Maret perform for a crowd, I felt like the crowd was simply watching Maret in her own private creative space. The upper level of Gabe’s was transformed into a techno music studio within just a few minutes of Maret taking the stage.

Even if Maret didn’t seem to notice the crowd in front of her, the crowd responded well to her set. She effortlessly commanded everyone’s attention as the music swirled around us, causing some to sway their bodies or nod their head in response.

The bright, upbeat sounds eventually transitioned into a darker interlude, where the various sounds were centered by a heartbeat-like rhythm. Heavy bass shook the walls and floor, and mysterious rustling notes created a sort of sound tornado.

Maret then transitioned out of this interlude into a new, upbeat sound reminiscent of the beginning of her set. The transition out of the darkness was as smooth as the transition into it. She played with volume, at one point dipping the music low enough to hear the hum of the crowd. Someone took this moment to let out an encouraging “Whoop!”

Maret ended her show just as casually as she had started it. The crowd applauded enthusiastically, deeming her performance a rousing success.

I was so impressed by Maret’s set that I decided to purchase a copy of her 2018 project, “No More Running,” on CD. I left Gabe’s feeling like I had just discovered something very special.

The post Eve Maret captivates Gabe’s on night one of Iowa City’s “Witching Hour” festival appeared first on KRUI Radio.

When I first walked in the door, I saw spectators all the way up the staircase to my right, filling the two large doorways to my left. Eventually, I found a spot within the crowd and saw Christopher-Rasheem McMillan – a University of Iowa graduate student who studies both Dance and Gender, Women’s & Sexuality Studies – emotionally dancing across the floor amidst disturbing YouTube videos. A teenage boy spewing racist bulls**t on Snapchat repeated over and over. 

McMillan wore a bland, navy blue sweatshirt. He had nothing on his legs aside from underwear and covered his face with a black mask. I felt that this was a way for McMillan to represent the black community as a whole, a statement that white supremacy is both a personal struggle and an attack on an entire population, though I am not confident in that assumption. However, I am confident in saying that the performance was incredibly powerful. I have to admit, in a way I felt uncomfortable. Interestingly, every spectator at The Mirror/The Reaping was white. I wonder if others felt the same.

Every once in a while, McMillan would respond emotionally. As the voice of a white slave-owner echoed through the room, he cried in anguish on the floor. At one point, he laughed loudly, but the laugh was ironic and devastating. For the last few minutes I was inside he lay on the floor, completely still, as the same videos repeated on the walls. As I walked back out the door, I heard a voice say, “You just have to wait ‘til they die.”

The post Witching Hour: The Mirror/The Reaping @ Public Space One 11/2 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

If there’s one thing that I love about Witching Hour, it’s the comedians who perform. Tonights performers were Caribbean-born comedian Janelle James and Chicago-bred Liza Treyger.

The night started right off the bat with Janelle James opening statement being “Ima talk about my titties and shit,” which received numerous laughs from the audience.

James was an amazing performer, speaking as if she were talking to close friends, anything and everything rolling off her tongue. Those are my favorite kinds of performers — ones that don’t sound too scripted and are able to create a feeling of closeness with the audience.

James had the audience rolling with the themes she was talking about, one notable one being the topic of catcalling. She recalled a time that a man in NYC told her “You look like you got a juicy pussy!” and other horrendous tales of men in New York.

She briefly touched on more political issues, like the Me Too movement and Louis CK, but for the most part strayed away from political humor. She went on to talk more about her family life and relationships.

If you thought that Janelle James had a vulgar set, then you were in for a treat when Liza Treyger came on stage.

Liza Treyger came out on the stage, guns blazin, show ready to start. Her comedy routine started out talking about her time at Iowa State University getting arrested for drunk driving (longer bit below).

She has a particular style of comedy that is kind of self-demeaning but very self-aware. Personally, I have a terrible sense of humor where nothing is off limits, so I find this type of comedy funny. Not to mention, it seems all-too-relatable right now, as that self-deprecating type of humor is sort of “in” right now.

Treyger continues on talking about a getting out of a previous relationship and described her depression as “Grandpa Joe in Willy Wonka but instead of other people in bed with me, there were food and dildos.” I honestly don’t think I have laughed that hard in quite some time.

Treyger also talked extensively about porn — the kind she likes to watch, some porn subscriptions she has, and the difference between when men finish versus when women do. If you’re not the kind of person that likes to talk about or hear about porn, then Liza Treyger is probably not the comedian for you. She’s very open about her sexuality and porn preferences, like ai deepfake generators and the like, which made it fun to laugh along with her about these things.

One of her best acts was getting some audience interaction and asking different questions for the men and for the women. For context, she created a situation where you hook up with someone and then are telling your friends about it later.

For the men, she said “Clap if your buddy asks you if you came,” followed by silence. When she asked the women, nearly every woman in the room clapped. It was totally a “You had to be there” kind of moment, but I think she really put her sociology degree to work there.

If I were you, I would definitely check out some of their comedy on YouTube and Netflix because there was not a moment where I wasn’t bubbling up with laughter.

The post Witching Hour: Janelle James and Liza Treyger @ The Englert 10/13/18 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The Englert’s dark stage, dimly lit by trippy cerulean blue lights, featured a lineup of brilliant young writers. Each owning the stage in their turn and in their own way, they read a selection from their creative work, ranging from poetry to novels to nonfiction.

What was particularly amazing right off the bat about the performers (especially for me) was where they were at in their lives this night. For instance, the first performer, Aimee Frederickson, is a fourth-year undergrad at the UI, a writer featured in Earthwords.

I would never dream of the possibility of even stepping foot on the Englert stage, or any sizable stage for that matter, reading my own creative work at this point in my life. And yet there I watched a fellow classmate rocking the stage with electric poetry and a different take on the first dog in space.

Reflecting on their achievements, it’s natural to ponder one’s own potential in such a setting. Many, like myself, may find it daunting to imagine stepping onto a grand stage and sharing their creative work.

However, with the advent of an AI book writer, there emerges a new avenue for aspiring writers to explore and develop their craft. Through innovative platforms like Youbooks, writers can harness the power of AI to create compelling narratives and explore new storytelling possibilities, regardless of their current stage in life.

Just as the young performers at the Englert captivated audiences with their artistry, AI book writers offer a promising path for individuals to express themselves creatively and share their stories with the world.

This event was also impressive in the number of readers it featured. The plurality of performers reminded me more of an open mic than a reading, which added a raw and rich quality to the event.

It also left me gasping for time to digest everything that I had seen by the end of the event (and which I still haven’t quite done). Each performer brought currents of ideas, thoughts, languages, and experiences that swirled in thought vortexes towards the audience.

There was also the element of seeing the future in the making. MFA candidate Bruna Dantas Lobatos, for example, read from her novel-in-progress. It was a scene describing a phone call between a daughter and her mother, and the distortion of distance, intimacy, and visualization.

This made the second time I have been able to listen to/ be exposed to a novel in progress, and it is an experience that I absolutely love. Novels bear a greater image of a “finished product,” and being able to be exposed to it when it is still in process gives the idea of a novel and writing a greater sense of tactility that I really value.

The night also featured incredibly magnetic performances. Leon Pan, an MFA student

at the Iowa Writer’s Workshop, read one poem. It was short. How short, I have no idea.

His poem and his performance held you in an uncertain limbo, tasting the words and wanting to unravel the compactness to see the depth beneath, and then stopping so that you suddenly fell from the suspension you were held in. I hope I am able to meet this poem again somewhere because I didn’t have enough of it.

This reading opened a brief, whirling portal into writing in its fibrous, tactile, and pliant form. It’s an opportunity you can only really get in an environment that brings art to you in the raw–an environment called Iowa City.

The post Witching Hour: Writers of Color Reading Series @ Englert Theater 10/13/2018 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Bascaljon is a brilliant scholar and author of Eastern Iowa, having also been an instructor at the UI. He also leads the event “Coffee with Dan,” a panel/discussion held at Pointdexter Coffee.

The topic of this workshop centered around the presence and use of “space” in creative work. I must say that workshops are not always a comfortable space for me, but Dan did a wonderful job making this one quite cozy and relaxed. He was aided by the presence of coffee and pastries from Java, which rescued us participants from early morning sleepiness.

Seated around a round-ish table in one of MERGE’s spacy conference rooms, we began by discussing answers to Bascaljon’s warm-up questions about what space actually is, and what it means to make space.

I think it’s safe to say that a lot of us tend to think of space in physical terms — rooms, elevators, cars. At least, that was what I first thought of in response to this question. But it initiated answers including physical movement, meditation, and marginalized voices as “definitions” or conceptions of space. Music was particularly interesting, as both inherently and actively spatial.

One way of visualizing space is as a sculpture. And instead of viewing it as a sort of void to be filled, we could see it as a block with endless possibilities, to be shaped, molded, and sculpted to its great potential.

And thus, music, if we view it as an agent, could thus be seen as something that shapes space.

And what about spaces that we ourselves inhabit? Participants also discussed what spaces felt comfortable or uncomfortable. Are we innately agoraphobic? Or is it that not space itself, but the way in which it leaves us vulnerable to other people who inhabit that space, which makes it disagreeable?

Bascaljon then took this discussion to focus on three main points, each with its own little homework assignment for each of u

First, he posited that writers, artists, creative people, etc., need to make space for themselves in order to reach their full potential and create their own space. This meant making space for yourself in both the mental and physical sense–“being ok with space and silence,” and knowing “what to take in and what to leave out” of your physical creative space (where you create).

Second, he gave us three examples of making space in literature, which he drew (and read out loud, which was awesome) from 19th century literature. This included “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, “I Saw No Way” by Emily Dickinson, and “The Fall of the House of Usher” by Edgar Allan Poe.

Now, I am sold whenever somebody brings up Poe. And I am not ashamed to say that his discussion of how Poe uses space in his work made. my. day. Rant over.

Finally, Bascaljon brought up creating spaces for your audience. I felt like this was the most complex topic of the workshop, and so I have slight difficulty reproducing the discussion here. But the takeaway was that how you create space in your creative work does affect your audience, in including some and excluding others, to some extent. There are several ways one can accomplish this, including alienating everybody as a form of shock, or trying to be inclusive to a specific target audience.

Bascaljon was a wonderful mediator, re-processing everybody’s ideas into more digestable forms, and mixing in a lot of humor and passion, which made everything better.

What I especially liked about this workshop, was its divergence from the other workshops that I am used to. (Again, I can only speak for myself.) What I don’t like about workshops is how they make you feel slightly exasperated about your own work, and somehow manage to lower your self-esteem when you come out of them. I always leave thinking “Well, rats, what am I doing wrong?”

But Bascaljon did a masterful job of maintaining a sense of hope and practicality, and ensured that we came out with positivity and (realistic) optimism, with the tools that we needed to rely on ourselves and achieve our creative goals.

Be sure to check out the rest of the Saturday lineup!

The post Witching Hour: Making Space @ MERGE 10/13/2018 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

I mention this little detail because it seems to sum up his entire stage persona.

Philip Rabalais, you see, seems entirely one of us when he first steps on stage, just another skinny 20-something guy in horn-rimmed glasses and a size-too-large flannel shirt, someone you could easily imagine passing by on a Monday morning as you head to class.

This is unsurprising, considering that he’s no touring musician but an Iowa City local, a grad student in the University of Iowa’s Cinematic Arts program.

His introverted stage presence was not helped by the frankly sedate atmosphere that filled the Mill at the time he came on stage, leading me to have low expectations for the show ahead.

From the moment he hooked up his laptop to the Mill’s omnipresent audio system, however, Rabalais became something entirely different. Seemingly out of nowhere, the kid who had sheepishly mumbled “hello, I’m Philip” into the microphone flooded the Mill with bass and beats so infectious that half of the audience instantly fled their tables for the dance floor.

Phillip Rabalais had become a DJ, with all the low-brow, beat-heavy, Saturday night sensation-seeking sensuality that the term rightfully implies. With that baggy hipster flannel off of his back and thrown to the floor, the transformation was complete.

Setlists are useless when describing the flow of Rabalais’ performance. His songs had no distinct beginning or end; rather, melodic elements dropped in and out of the mix as the beat shifted up and down tempo according to Rabalais’ whims.

At times, I felt that he was composing new tracks on the fly, stitching new beats together from the wealth of samples presumably stored on the Macbook he that had hauled on stage.

His sound itself was heavily dominated by looped vocal samples. Rabalais wove a tapestry of male and female voices that were so heavily distorted that it was hard to tell if they were human or if they had been computer generated.

At other times, flutes, synths and sax entered the mix, hinting at the forms of more conventional dance genres but never quite conforming to them. The inhuman distortions of Blank Banshee and similar vaporwave artists are perhaps the most obvious mainstream touchstone for his sound.

The key difference between these artists and Rabalais, of course, is that all the ironic trappings of the internet faded away as he performed live and in person.

With all of the tables trembling and the dance floor full, the kid on the stage and the surreal, warped and modified sounds coming out of his laptop had somehow captured the schism between reality and possibility that gets crossed after a few drinks on a weekend night.

And as the show finally drew to a close, it was clear that Philip Rabalais himself – the shy grad student turned explosive club DJ – embodied that possibility better than anyone else in the room.

The post Witching Hour: Philip Rabalais @ The Mill 10/21/2017 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

I went into the Witching Hour workshop having the intent of having a relaxing, laid-back time. The description entailed laying on the ground with pillows and a blanket. What did I have to lose?

What I wasn’t expecting was the soul-cleansing, self-transcendent work I would be doing on myself. This workshop had me so deep in my feels, I thought I was never going to come out of them.

For the first fifteen minutes or so, the workshop instructor philosophized on how us humans go through our life journeys all fighting an internal war for peace.

We can’t seem to let go of hard experiences of the past, letting them linger in our present mind and taint our perspective. No matter how much pain it brings, we find ourselves clinging onto repressed memories and emotions instead of simply letting go.

The way he broke down the human condition and the suffering it entails definitely had me deep in reflection. He discussed the spectrum of emotion that life entails. The negative side of this spectrum consists of fear. He stressed how any negative emotion, thought process, or

perception we hold is all rooted in fear.

Since I will be graduating this semester and have been filled with a deep dread and anxiety of what the future holds, this struck a chord deep within me.

The claustrophobic and anxious emotions I’ve been experiencing, the stressful thoughts of finding a job, it all boils down to fear. Fear of the future, fear of the unknown, fear of screwing up, its the causation of all the suffering I find myself under.

It is through its opposing force of love, however, that this fear can be washed away. He stressed the importance of seeing everything as divine. Even though a person, experience, or emotion currently facing you may have a negative feeling connected to it, we must look for the silver lining in it all.

In addition to seeking guidance and insight through love and positivity, some individuals may turn to psychic readings as a way to gain clarity and perspective on their fears and anxieties. While some may be hesitant to try psychic readings due to skepticism or uncertainty, Get a Free Online Psychic Reading and it can be a great way to explore this practice without committing to a full session. By connecting with a trusted and experienced psychic, individuals can receive personalized insights and guidance on how to move forward with confidence and courage. Whether facing a difficult decision, a major life transition or simply seeking a deeper understanding of oneself and the world around us, psychic readings can offer a unique and valuable perspective on our fears and uncertainties.

At the end of the day, we are all still standing strong after all of the hardships we have faced in our past.

Through this workshop, he aimed to tune our collective mind to the all healing love frequency, and to come to peace with ourselves and the outside world. For the past 400 or so years, these giant bronze bells have been the door to the love dimension, getting used by spiritual healers and shamans across the globe.

Regardless of your spiritual views or religious affiliation, you can’t help but feel the power of these gongs. For 45 minutes, I laid back on the Englert Theatre stage, and let these sounds reverberate through my body and mind. If we’re being real here, I completely lost track of time and where I was because I was so washed away by these resonant sounds.

It seemed like a 15 minute experience at tops, and I was literally soaring through my mind and imagination like a madman. It may have been because I was tired and a bit hungover, but that is of course besides the point.

I couldn’t help but feel spiritually cleansed walking out of the Englert theater after this workshop, feeling much lighter on my feet and with a fresh, healthier perspective.

The post Witching Hour : Doorway to Intuition: Gong Bath and Sound Healing Meditation @ Englert Theatre 10/21/2017 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The lecture focused mainly on information about what exactly is harming bees as well as how exactly we should be working to save them.

If you don’t understand why bees are so important or why people are making such a big fuss about bees, Mena starts the lecture off with a statistic that will shine some light.

85% of flowering plants (berries, pumpkins, tomatoes, flowers, etc.) and 75% of crops (corn, wheat, soybean, etc.) depend on bees. Since we live in Iowa, a largely agricultural state, bees are vital for our economic stability.

We also focus mainly on honeybees or bumblebees when we think of “saving the bees” without considering how many species are actually being affected. Mena tells us there are about 20,000 species of bee worldwide, about 4,000 in the United States, and around 400 in Iowa.

Most of these species are being threatened for many reasons, but here are the largest.

Bee habitats are being destroyed and fragmented, says Mena, because their natural homes are being turned into highways, commercial buildings, and housing developments.

Pesticides are also a huge part of the endangerment of bee species. Mena tells us that wheat crops in Iowa are 0.1% similar to what they originally were, genetically speaking.

Pesticides have altered these crops so much over so many years of using pesticides on them, that they have become virtually unrecognizable to species that require them to survive.

New kinds of pesticides are also used directly on seeds for these crops, so they will be all over every yield that seed ever produces, according to Mena. These pesticides will also be all over anything surrounding it, such as wildflowers next to the crops.

Lastly, the largest reason bees are being threatened is due to exotic species being introduced and the diseased they bring with them. Mena describes the Africanization of bees.

African bee species were brought to Brazil to be studied in the early 21st century. They then bred with native species. The offspring of these bees became extremely aggressive and killed their queen bees as well as human beings.

Since they are so harmful, no one will be their beekeeper, so they have spread through South America and now reside in the Southern United States, but have been found as far north as Utah.

Diseases brought along with exotic species are also harmful. Native bee species have been equipped over time to handle native diseases, as Mena describes, but are incapable of beating diseases brought over from new species. This is also wiping them out.

There are a few ways that we are able to help bee populations grow again! We can plant flowers and herbs that provide food to bees such as lavender, sage, and mint. You can also work with iowa pest control experts to get rid of problem insects and pests.

The graphic Mena provided us with is on the right, and has a large assortment of bee-saving plants!

Quitting the use of pesticides on our front lawns can also help, and so can saving dandelions instead of destroying them. They aren’t the best food bees can get like the plants listed above, but every little bit counts.

Another way we can help bees is providing them with places to nest. You can do this by making a bee house, as shown in the photo on the left. A lot of the time these can be made with a small piece of wood and a drill, or you can purchase them online.

To learn more about Mena and her studies on bees, read this Little Village article about her! Save those bees!

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