Documentation: Crowdscripted Performance: The Robot at Bucket 12/03/10 pt. 2

I’ve been trying to come up with a way for live, proximate performance to tap into the enormous potential of the digital sphere. I’m not the only one, obviously. It’s seemed to me though, from the admittedly small sample of performances that I’ve seen, that such experiments tend to put the live at a disadvantage. To put it more bluntly, they make what actors or other performers, do in the moment, less interesting, not only to watch, but also to do. I wondered if there was a way to use digital technology to make what performers do more interesting; to raise the stakes, emphasize the liveness, and at the same time seduce the online generations into realizing the joys of my favourite art form. . Maybe, I thought, because I tend to think in epic terms, it might help theatre to survive, because it seems to me that in this century it might well die, or change beyond recognition. This was the area I was determined to explore in my MA .

I came up with a few ideas, which I’ll be writing about later, but all of them needed several collaborators and/or a good deal of equipment and technical expertise that I didn’t have, so I set about making alliances, talking about my preoccupations, and finding things out. I was in the very early stages of this when Gareth Cutter asked me if I would perform in the December Cabaret Formerly Known As Bucket, a gleefully subversive and exuberantly odd cabaret event held regularly in Manchester. I’d performed there before, but never on my own. I wanted to do it, but I didn’t have any appropriate material ready, and, being a single parent on a Master’s course, didn’t have time to make any. I said yes.

A couple of weeks before the show, it occurred to me to use it to try out my ideas for making use of audience suggestions. No material? No problem. I’d ask the audience to text me things, and I’d do them. I’d call it “crowdscripted performance”, that had a nice ring to it. Bucket always had a friendly crowd, it felt like a safe space to try something crazy out. I’d put on the silver makeup I used when reading Science Fiction stories to kids at the library, cobble together a vaguely robotic schtick, and become their puppet. It would be a rough pilot for some of the more sophisticated ideas I vaguely hoped would come together soon.

The audience loved it, and Gareth asked if I wanted to do it again. I did. I wanted to make it better, to add Twitter to SMS as a means of getting messages, to polish my robot act, make it slicker.I told him how popular it had been with the crowd when I, as the robot, had interfered with other acts, how very many of the text messages had urged me to do so. I said that one of the things that alienated modern audiences from theatre was the respectful silence and distance it was granted. I said that one of the joys of cabaret was how much a part of it the audience felt, whether this was expressed as cheers or heckling. I thought that maybe, many people were too shy to heckle and felt left out, maybe the robot served a need for them, allowing them to be part of what was happening without feeling exposed. The true task of the robot, I argued, was as a liberator of audiences; a proxy heckler.

Could I please, I asked, meddle in the other acts?

He gave me pretty much free rein to heckle him and interfere with his own act, and said said that there were a couple of other acts that might be suitable for the treatment, suggesting I ask the performers. I did, and both Chris Williams of Drunken Chorus, whom I knew, and Garth Williams, whom I didn’t, agreed. I did my best to explain that once into it I’d have little control and might change their acts beyond recognition. They said to go ahead.

I rigged a box file with a blinking LED to tell the audience when I was receiving their messages. It would remain off during the acts where the robot’s interference wasn’t appropriate. I wrote a pastiche of Asimov’s Laws of Robotics to make it clear to the audience that I wasn’t going to break my neck, or the law, and to explain the rules of the game I was inviting them to play. I promised myself that I wouldn’t do anything to injure my bad knee, or break character, because this time I’d thought of everything that could go wrong.

If you’re not smirking already, please start now.

The first thing that went wrong started when Gareth, in character as political candidate Bill Bucket, offered one member of the audience a free beer. It didn’t take long for the texts to start coming in asking me for a free drink. I bought two, and broke character on the third, explaining that I was buying these out of my own money and couldn’t afford to get the whole audience drunk.

The second thing that went wrong was actually the first. Talking to a friend who was sending requests through Twitter, I realized I wasn’t receiving his tweets, among my first requests.

The third thing that went wrong was that I was asked to sing a Spice Girls song, then one by MC Hammer. I’d forgotten to tell the audience that this robot was an old model, and its pop music database ran only to some time in the mid-80’s.

What didn’t go wrong was the interfering with other acts. Garth played off me beautifully, his character getting more and more pompous and sniffy. Chris came along later, when the crowd was decidedly merry, and let me take his glasses off, though not undress him, managing to simultaneously ignore and collaborate with me, which also worked a treat. On the part of both, it took fortitude, improvisation experience and quick wits: I barely left either of them in peace. I danced in front of them, took things from them, spoke into their microphone, the works.

Even though they had agreed, I sought them out after the show to apologize. Each told me it had been challenging, but fun. They said they had enjoyed working with me. Unusually for me, I hadn’t felt that I was working with them. I had barely been aware of them, feeling no complicity, letting them do all the work. Generally, complicity with other actors is the single most important element of the shows I’m in, the one I can’t do without. Here,I had none; the robot belonged to the audience.

I hurt my knee, of course, which was my own fault. I was also, constantly sliding out of character, ever more so as the evening progressed. This may have been something to do with the informal nature of the event; we were in the bar, mostly, and people did keep talking to me. I reminded myself a bit of how my young son plays; he interrupts his imaginative games to clarify what he needs me to do in them, then drops back into pretending, seamlessly. Mostly, though, I think it was either lack of discipline on my part, or a failure in the setup. I have some changes in mind that might help, but they meen involving more equipment and at least one other person, and as my pay for such events doesn’t even cover my traveling expenses, this might be tricky.

There is no question in my mind that audiences love being able to affect performances in this way. I’ve never had so much positive feedback about anything I’ve done. There is also no question that some audience members hate having my Robot interfere with the other acts. I had an exchange on Facebook with one audience member who hated it so much that he kept saying so on my personal page until I blocked him. Because I want such conversations to take place in public, and because the developing relationship between new media and theatre interests me so much, I’m reproducing that discussion, in full, in my next post.

Please see my post of 15 March for a full list of the requests I received on this occasion.

Documentation:The Crowdscripted Request Robot 12/03/10

I've got quite a lot to say about my second experiment with crowdscripted performance, which took place at the Cabaret Formerly Known as Bucket on the 12th of March, so I'm dividing it into at least two posts.

This first one is primarily a record of the requests I received, which you'll find below. I've differentiated the ones I received through Twitter from the SMS messages, which formed the bulk of the requests. The vast majority of the people who sent requests did so more than once. My iPhone automatically groups all messages from the same sender together, and also into approximate times. This means that I have the luxury of showing you when more than one message was received from the same source. I've marked each contributor by a letter of the alphabet, in the order in which I transcribed their messages, so you can follow the progression of their requests. In the case of tweeted requests, I've gone with the same system, so that the Twitter crowd can have the same anonymity as the SMS folks, on this blog anyway. You can also see all relevant Tweets, less anonymously, by searching Twitter for the hashtag RRobot.

The trouble with the way my phone stores message data, and with my choice to transcribe the tweets a couple of days after the fact is that I don't know exactly what time everything was received. I've put the messages in order by my best guess, but they've ended up bunched together more by who sent them than by when. Anybody with the geekery to help me order them properly is very welcome to make suggestions.

I wrote before that I would try to do everything requested, within certain parameters. I didn’t. Part of the reason for this was technical; quite a few tweets came in very late. Part of the reason was the relatively chaotic nature of the event and the details of the structuring of the act; I would get a lot of messages at once, often at a time when I wasn’t “on” and a few fell between the cracks. If you sent me a message, and it didn’t get acted on it was either because it was against the rules or for one of the reasons just given.

Some Context

The Cabaret Formerly Known as Bucket straddles the line between cabaret and experimental performance. Hosted by Bill Bucket (aka Gareth) at the Greenroom it can consist of satire, poetry, burlesque stripping, performance art, spoken word, comedy, puppetry, theatre, sleight of hand and all sorts of other entertainments, usually with a subversive bent. On this occasion CFKAB had a theme: “The Joy of Lies”, and the compère was more than a compère; he was an act. Bill Bucket was running for office, with his publicity manager (Chris Fitzsimmons in a gimp mask) and gofer (myself as Request Robot). In essence, the gimp did whatever Bill Bucket wanted, and I did whatever the audience wanted, unless I was needed for Bill Bucket’s act, or wasn’t on. At one point, around 10 PM, the gimp and the Robot were handcuffed together. The cabaret had three sections, with intervals in between. I was active during all the intervals, most of the Bill Bucket routines that framed them, and, by prearrangement, some of the acts. There is a taxi rank across the street, and a club called the Ritz. Both are visible from the Greenroom's plate glass windows.

The performance was preceded by my tweeting about it, then tweeting the rules (Laws of Crowdscripted Robotics) which I would endeavour to stick to. It was followed by a brief exchange on Twitter and a longer and much more heated one on Facebook. I’ll be posting about these later, but have decided to leave them out of this documentation, though they raise interesting points about the limits and limitations of the performance. Do note the SMS exchange I had with one audience member in the course of the performance, the texts I sent are marked (ME).


The Requests


Do a little dance (F)
Scream (F)
Lob a tit out (F)
Lob it out again. (F)
Lick your elbow (F)
Repeat everything he says (F)
Repeat everything Gareth says (A)
Tweet: Sing the hills are alive with the sound of music at the top of your voice, but pretend you are crying while you do it. (R)
Robot hope you are still awake. Can you dance the cancan?
Slap Gareth (M)
Press yourself up against the window in front of those lads. (M)
Hit Gareth and then storks his face repeatedly . . . Then try to take away his banjo.(M)
Tweet:Do: Check Bill Bucket's bellybutton for fluff. Tell us what you're going to do with your extensive bellybutton fluff collection. (S)
Buy me a pint of beer (L)
Kiss the girl on the table furthest from you she is wearing a scarf and ginger hair.(L)
Pretend you are a frog (L)
Howl like a wolf please! Xx (N)
Bark like a dog please. Loudly! Xx (N)
Sing ‘Spice Girls’ – ‘If you wanna be my lover’. All verses and choruses please! (N)
Do pelvic thrusts at the crowd, then the poet please
Lick the window x (K)
Go outside and pole dance the lamppost directly opposite to where you’re standing now x (K)
Tweet:reboot system and startup in safe mode. (T)
Say “I want my pudding” into the microphone three times (K)
Fake an orgasm (A)
Hide in the bush in the corner (A)
Do a crab dance (F)
Down someone’s drink from their table (F)
Tweet:moonwalk (R, on behalf of someone else)
Get me a free beer (please) (J)
Burp the alphabet (R, on behalf of a second person)
Do the beyonce bum shake whilst singing ’if you like it then you should have put a ring on it’ ( J)
Pole dance on the comedian (F)
Don’t follow commands during poet (C)
Take the poets tie off and swing it like a cow girl (J)
Go outside and slide onto the bonnet of one of the taxis outside. And sing ‘let’s have some fun this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your disco’ ( J)
Shake it like a poloroid picture (G)
Tweet:Can't can (R, for a third person)
Back of the room. Run and take that guys grey cap and put it on Gareth. (M)
Please put a fake flower in his hat
Say down the mic. ‘this is simultaneously the worst and best night out of my life thank god for i robot’ (L)
Put on as many coats from back of chairs as you can fit. Thanks (D)
Lie on the stage and do the backstroke (E)
Tweet:Sing the sound of music at the top of your voice whilst pretending to cry. (R)
The stairs are mountains on the moon. Climb them (E)
In your best glaswegian accent say “oo ah that’s nice” into the microphone (P)
Be a lizard (P)
Tweet:Make sweet love to the banjo (T)
Do: deliver a short lecture on why people are so fucking stupid. On one leg. (B)
You gave me a kiss earlier, could I have a beer please? Many thanks (D)
Do: Recite asimov’s laws of robotics
Thank you for the beer. In return you can direct me to do something. Also, can you say into the mic, urgently (in style not time) ‘sarah hill, nonce, gimp, nonce, nonce, gimp, kady, munting munting,’ again and again until you get another request (J)
When back on, that is ( J)
ME: Next time you see me doing something for far longer than can possibly be fun, or comfortable, text “stop” and we’re even x
Okay! As long as you say those things into the mic :) ( J)
ME:It’s a deal, but you might have to wait until interval, my next bit is with Gareth and fairly planned out. (J)
Walk centre stage and shout “meat” as loud as you can ten times (K)
Shout “I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts” (K)
Punch him. Punch him now. (M)
Tweet:shout "baby fish mouth” (T)
Thow dirt at Gareth (M)
Tweet:Respond to whoever's speaking on the microphone with increasingly hysterical exclamations of "WHAT?!". (S)
Slap him (C)
Eat what’s on the plate (C)

Say “I’ve lost 2 hours of my life” (A)
Star jump (N)
Do: simultaneously translate the other performers words into another European language (B)
VERY LOUDLY, REFUSE the next request…(eg ‘NO I WILL NOT…..!)
Shout the word bum hole (F)
Sing happy birthday. (F)
Try and Go into the ritz (L)
Lick bucket’s face
Pretend to be a choo choo train! Xx (N)
Don’t loose character (D)
Cheer up it was your idea (L)
You are a helicopter. Use the mic if U need to. Fly around the room. (E)
Tweet:SPOON ON NOSE! (interpret however your processing unit chooses) (R)
Sing the words ‘i like big butts and i cannot lie all you other brothers cant deny etc’ plus a bum shakey dance (i’m sorry) (O)
Please take the trilby hat from the guy at the bar. it doesn’t look good.it’s for the best.keeep it for the entire evening. (O)
Can you try and seduce the guy sitting next to me by trying out your best and cheesiest chat up lines while standing on the table and doing an impression of a puffa fish. (I am the girl with glasses sitting on the table closest to the stage) (I)
Do eva peron on the balcony (F)
Hit the gimp with a brest (H)
Pretend to fist the gimp and laugh manically. Xx (H)
Shakespeare! (N)
Tweet:shut the fuck up
Stop. Dance westernt ( J)
Blow your nose on his hanky (G)
Take his glasses!!!
You find the guy on front row with glasses, far too sexy to resist
Do a cartwheel (or forward roll if you can’t) whilst saying SUPERMAN (J)
Get the boy sat on my table with a girl on his lap (longterm, no contention!) To dance with you . . . I’m thinking ballroom ( J)
Try and take all his clothes off (I)
Oink and act like a pig! Loudly. Shout it! (N)
Bring the table with the girl with the piercings the bottle of vodka! (N)
Pretend you’re a velociraptor (K)
Say ‘I don’t think we’ll ever get back to Kansas toto’ down the mic (L)
Go and kiss a bouncer across the street. (M)
Guy back left take his cap outside and dance with it on (M)
Get me a beer please. Near the guy u took cap from (M)
Ask drunken chorus –is that your real beard? (O)
Sing happy birthday to nate (P)
Clap the gimps hands (P)
Sing and dance mchammer can’t touch this (P)
Pretend there is a llama in the room and you have to chase it (P)
Bring on the trumpets! (P)
Throw the flowers over your head like you just got married (P)
Show us your box (Q)
Show us your box again, for longer! (Q)
Show us the inside of your box again. That was amazing! (Q)
Show us someone else’s box, bored of yours now. (Q)
Show us your other box. (Q)
Meow once for every sentence the man on stage says. (P)
Say into the microphone the answer to life the universe and everything. (P)
Start a Mexican wave (P)
Play the bongos on bill bucket’s belly (P)

Documentation: Crowdscripted Performance: The Request Robot

In my previous post, I started trying to work out how I feel about the use of technology in contemporary theatre. Well, more accurately, I started trying to write coherently about it. I’ve also been trying, for several months now, to explore this idea in my performances. The first, and simplest (crudest, perhaps) attempt at what I’m calling crowdscripted performance, was in December, when I was part of a cabaret evening, The Cabaret Formerly Known as Bucket (it’s a long story, some of which can be found here), which is held regularly at Manchester’s Green Room theatre. On this occasion it was Christmas–themed, with the host dressed as an elf and a life-sized dancing Santa near the bar.

Our host, Gareth, aka Bill Bucket was willing to let me try a kind of performance new both to me and the CFKB, which I called The Request Robot. Beyond dressing up as a robot, I made no preparations for the gig. I just announced my mobile phone number to the audience, and promised to execute any request that was sent to me in the following format: Do: an action (or) Say: a text. I was to be active during the intervals between other performers, to cover the turnarounds with my pseudo robotics.

I cheated a bit; my injured knee prevented me sliding down the banister properly, so I did that one half-assed. Also, I’m pretty sure that the person who texted : Strip didn’t intend for me to strip off my leggings to reveal the tights beneath. I improvised a bit, dancing with the dancing Santa doll, and indulging in some banter with the audience. I should probably also admit that I wasn’t particularly disciplined with the physicality. I’ve never had rigorous physical training, though I’m quite expressive, and I was playing around with a robotic physicality rather than strictly adhering to it. You’ll find a review of the event here.

I came away from the experience with a couple of tentative conclusions, and a strong urge to do it again. Fortunately for me, my kindly, if distinctly roguish, uncle Bill Bucket, is going to indulge me. On Friday. This time the theme is politics, and Bill is running for office . Once again, I’m covering the turnarounds, though this time the Robot will also be serving as a lie detector during uncle Bill’s campaign speech, which should be fun.
I’m going to try to be a lot more disciplined about it, this time, still unless requested to move, and ducking nothing. To safeguard myself, I’m going to announce my own Laws of Robotics, making it clear that I’m not going to injure myself for their amusement, nor strip. Well, not beyond the unitard, anyway. Metallic body paint is too expensive to squander on a precautionary full-body cover. The iPhone should also allow me to receive messages from different sources, and I’m trying to come up with a hashtag so people can tweet requests.

Last year, it was pretty clear that the main thing the audience wanted me to do was interfere with the other acts; a sort of heckling by proxy. I did it a bit, with those seasoned performers who I was sure could handle it, but was asked, reasonably enough, to refrain. This time, it’s going to be different. I’ve discussed it with the others, and I have explicit permission to heckle particular performers. I’m rigging a little LED light which will inform the audience when the Robot is taking requests.
In the interests of full documentation, here is a complete list of the SMS messages I received during December’s gig.

Requests for the Robot (All of the typos are from the original messages. I hope they are, anyway.)

Strip
Do: Hopping
Do: The crab walk
Do: Tweak Elf’s ears
Rap
Make animal noises
Rap a Xmas song
Sing No woman, no cry
Kiss the Santa
Sing Jingle Bells in a German accent
Pull down Gareth’s pants and year them yourself
Kiss elf
UR an octopus
Remove Gareth’s Y fronts
Put Gareth’s underpants on your head
Do the funky robot
Slide down the banister
Crouch on the stage and shout “ I am laying huge Yuletide logs and it hurts”
Kiss that man on stage
Stare at this text in silence for 10 seconds. Then proclaim that you cannot do this anymore and fake an emotional breakdown
Make fart noise
Do some popping to the Xmas tunes!
Kiss that camera man
Take that camera off Red and take it into the toilet and take a picture of your boob and when you hand it back shout ‘I hope Santa empties his sack all over you this Christmas’ x
Go to the guy in the blue T-shirt. Rub his belly and say ‘When’s this baby due?’
Mime being stuck in a box
Act deeply insulted by this text and demand to know who sent it, saying that you are not paid to take this abuse
Shout ‘i love big willies’
Do a jig
I’ve been bad. Will you teach me a lesson?
Sing- Mama Mia
Say into the microphone ‘ I much prefer Paul Daniels’
Can u say the best short poem u know?
Can you draw me a robot?
Do- go outside and press your face against the window