i'm thinking of a dream i had

last night, it went like this:

i was home at my parents place for awhile during what felt like winter break, but there was no discernible christmas goings-on. i decided that the downtime was good for getting in some physical fitness, so i went to the track at my high school to run a little. in my dream, the track was different than it normally is; it was inside and worked its way around the gym. there was a concert going on in the gym during my jog, amy winehouse was singing her heart out. as i was on the outside, i could hear it and hear the commentary, which was less like sports-commentary and more like talking-heads-narrating-a-parade.

after my jog, i went home. i told my mom about amy winehouse's concert which i saw for FREE. since my mom's out of the loop on pop culture sometimes, i filled her in on amy winehouse's "soul chantuese of the century" status. my mom didn't bat an eye, and said, "that's nice, honey... you know amy's staying with us, right?" i'd been getting something out of the fridge while talking to my mom, and there sitting at the dining room table was a mute amy winehouse. she had really red pouty lips. i'm a little flabbergasted, and my mom explains that she really loves amy's music, and amy needed a place to stay during her 7-night tour of the high school gym. so she's staying with us. and it's a little upsetting because everyone in the family has a cold right now, so they can't properly enjoy the time with amy.

my mom reached into the fridge for what first appeared as cold medecine she was going to dole out to my illin' family members. but then i saw it was coke! she was fixin' to freebase a little coke to make ease the flu! i protested, again flabbergasted, and she countered with, "oh honey, it's just fine for colds. everyone will feel better in a jif!" and then she served coke to amy winehouse.

the end!

conjur woman @ la mama etc

CONJUR WOMAN: folk opera.

when i first heard the title, i wondered how "folk" and "opera" could cooperate. i'll spare you webster's thoughts on those words, but it to me, folkish elements are earthy, emotional, rootsy, commutual, raw. and the operatic is educated, particular, effortful, high-minded, pretentious. do not be confused as to the auspices of conjur woman; it only uses "opera" as a formal structure, a thematic medley of songs. conjur woman is all folk.

it's also a one-woman show that runs about fifty minutes. and it's constant singing, which is a testament to the amazing power of the voice of the conjur woman, obie-winner sheila dabney. one woman, three musicians, and a bare stage composed entirely of wooden planks. these planks served a dual purpose. on one hand, they illustrate the folk show's bare bones, populace-of-scarcity style; and on the other, they underscore one of the play's major thematic elements: the verticality, the axiality, and the naturality of trees.

in the songs of the conjur woman, trees illustrate love and escape, the comforts of passion and the anxiety-stricken way out. in an especially evocative set of cadences, she uses her magic rituals to transform her lover into a tree so he'll be safe from the villanous grasp of white slave-traders. yes. this emotional event, its rising action and aftermath, are conveyed in a 50-minute set of songs. and the communication isn't easily done, the entire production seemed challenged to maintain the ritualistic emotions over the time period.

i think the opening scene was the strongest, the most arresting. the conjur woman limps on the stage with the aid of bluesy guitar chords. her body pains her and her memories pain her, and when she opens her mouth to sing, you feel her pain. her opening lament is a thing of great beauty. i could feel my heart in my throat as she sang about what she had lost. this begs the question (that we should all consider during the month of february,) what color could tears be other than black?

Photographer: Brian Hilg
courtesy David Gibbs/DARR Publicity.

the rhythmic guitar and her rich, earthy voice illustrated the anguish and the simplicity and the animalistic qualities of the tale before it even began. unfortunately, the opening song was so compelling and so well orchestrated that the rest of the play couldn't quite maintain the same level of emotional communication.

my companion and i discussed afterwards our own guilt at failing to pay attention during the middle of the show. it was obviously intended to be emotional and absorbing, except that it didn't have an overall narrative shape that was designed to hold one's attention for fifty minutes. i realized, though, that this is okay. while not paying exact attention to every utterance from the conjur woman, my thoughts drifted towards magic and sexuality and rhythm and religion. and this is the nature of folk. we love it because it brings out unusual, yet natural things in our own selves.

the tale sung by the conjur woman isn't the six o'clock news: it is a Tale. both and operatic and consummate, this play is about Folk and Telling. it is her journey in emotional communication, and if we are caught up in the eddies of our own emotions, then our journeys have been enriched and counterpointed by hers.