The Stations

The stations were a way of allowing the BAM audience to interact with the themes we presented in our dialogue. In addition, Melissa G. and I both felt that our plays asked audiences to "come in" to our playworlds and engage with the textures, objects, walls, closets, windows, etc. Of course this happens in any play: location and atmosphere are always essential to creating character and dramatic action. But Melissa and I spend extreme amounts of time trying to direct our audience's attention: putting walls in their way, focusing their attention on a certain object, through a certain window, forcing characters to communicate across space (an ex-lover pleads with his beloved through the apartment intercom system, a beast sings a love song to his beloved while scaling her building).

The stations allowed the audience to "come in" to our dialogue, and to our questions, obsessions, and aesthetic dilemmas, before we ever spoke a word. In addition, these 3-D, mildly interactive stations became our subtle protest against the way audiences usually experience new work for the first time: in a bland, flat, long, boring, extraordinarily non-3-D, antisensual play reading.

The stations were actually rather inconspicuous: minidisplays set up on unused minibars and coffee tables in the BAM café. When the audience got settled, Melissa G. informed them about the stations, making it very clear that they did not have to interact with anyone unless they so chose. Katie handed out maps, allowing the audience members to navigate their own journey (which, coincidentally, is akin to the way Melissa and I ask audiences to experience narrative: the narrative exists, but it is more like a house to be explored, rather than a train that one boards to get directly from destination A to destination B).

Each station was clearly marked with a sign that adhered to the BAM code of style and graphics. BAM wouldn't let us make our own signs: I suppose they were worried we'd use tasteless fonts. Anyway, it was great to have the very official-looking signs, considering the absurd tone of most of the titles.

Station: "Enter Here"

This was a two-part station, and the audience could choose to participate in one or both parts.

Part 1 allowed the audience to make "coffee-cup art," just like one of the characters in Melissa G.'s play Given Fish. The instructions:

1. Pick up coffee mug out of saucer filled with coffee.

2. Look away, as though you are distracted by something in the distance.

3. "Accidentally" place coffee mug on sheet of paper.

4. Lift coffee mug, and repeat if so desired.

5. Look at your art.

6. Sign your art and display on adjacent coffee table.

Part 2 allowed the audience to "try on" certain dresses worn by characters in my performance installations. The choices were Blue Dress (with red umbrella), Clean White Slip, and Dirty Slip. A participant would choose one of the three dresses, and I would hold it up in front of them on a hanger. I would say something like "Wow, you look great, that looks really great ON. Please face Katie." And Katie would draw a rapid-fire sketch of the audience member "in" the dress. The person got to take the drawing home.

Station: "Self-Serve #1"

An audience member sat in an easy chair with a Discman and a sheet of instructions directing them to listen to the recording of an auctioneer doing a rendition of "Betty Botter Bought Some Butter." As they listened, they could read along with the recordings, following text printed on a sheet of paper. Certain words and phrases were highlighted, and the audience member's task was to say only the highlighted words out loud, in time with the recording. It was a beautiful sight to see: a person with ears and eyes activated, totally focused on this piece of paper, blurting out words and phrases at seemingly random intervals.

Station...