Please Do Touch

0 CommentsSaturday • May 28, 2011 • by Imei

When I see a sign that says, “Please don’t touch,” there is something inside me that feels sad. I feel sad because if I must shop, I like brushing the back of my hand against fabrics, and I am inclined to gently squeeze the fruit at the grocery store. If there is a lipstick color that catches my eye, I am pulling out my retractable brush from my purse and painting it one layer at a time on my pouty lips. During the third performance of Degenerate Art Ensemble‘s, The Red Shoes, I was never more aware that I wanted to touch — and be touched by — every element of this artistic presentation by DAE, as if I was holding up a sign that says, “Please do touch!” If you’re lucky, you’ll catch their last Seattle performance on June 19, and maybe you’ll be touched too.

Have you seen DAE's Red Shoes? Last Seattle performance is June 19, 2011 (tickets are limited).

DAE’s The Red Shoes is their interpretation of Hans Christian Anderson’s horrific fairy tale about a woman’s cursed life to dance herself to death while chasing her creative lust. Lust is sprinkled throughout the entire performance, with its rich vocalization work provided by guest dancer and vocalist Dohee Lee, a marching band, Botoh and modern dance artist Haruko Nishimura, the St. James Cathedral, and even the audience itself. By the end of the multi-venue performance, you want to be touched and to touch the artists, including a playful moment of virtual catch between Haruko and audience members paced a hundred feet away.

If you need any persuasion to see performance art of this kind, take a peek at this video clip to view Haruko’s organic style:

I personally find it delightful how the stage dissolves between the viewer and the artist, and what is experienced becomes greatly shaped by the viewers themselves. As we trooped by the ice cream truck surgery scene, I laughed until I noticed that a little happy tear had popped out of my eyes in the middle of my delight with this scene of made-up instruments. I wished that I could grab a violin bow and lightly pluck and pull on the strings of Haruko’s aluminum legs, and if it weren’t for the boundary placed between us, I would have definitely tried my hand at it.

Does this sound like celebrity fangirl speech? Is this any different from women falling apart and crying when Oprah walks by and says, “Hello, how are you?” to you, specifically? What I am describing is not the words of a fan wishing for a signature or a photo. Instead, it is the deep desire that we all hold within us to be seen — as well as to truly see — what is beautiful, what moves and touches us — what moves and touches me. It is beyond saying, “This is weird,” and “I’ve never seen this before.” I can only liken it to something like the first time you fall in love, and those strange moments of pain and confusion until one comes to know that that one has found love at last.

At several points in the presentation, Haruko moves amongst the audience and touches them, even indulging in an energetic crowd surfing moment as she is lifted above the heads of the audience. In the open square of St. James Cathedral, she walked into the crowd, randomly — and yet deliberately — picking people to see, and then to touch. I caught her eye, and while she looked at another person first, she quickly shifted her gaze to me, smiled, walked towards me, and with a sweet smile on her face (yet, still in character), she caressed my face. [Editor's note: if you want to know how to get anyone to pay attention to you, please download a copy of Violet Blue's Total Flirt App, for iPhone and Android].

My reaction? *melt melt melt* [insert puddle of warm butter]

The best art moves us to feel everything the artist intends us to feel … and then some. If what it takes to inspire us in our wired, virtual, online life is a brief but meaningful caress, I will pull out my iPad, draw the words, “Please Do Touch” on the wallpaper, and shamelessly strap it to my body in the hopes that other artistically-minded people (and not pervs and perps!) know how to skillfully touch, as another generation learns how to hide behind their laptops instead of stand in front of them. We can’t, we just can’t, lose these skills. If we do, we’re truly and utterly lost and alone.

That night, I dreamed that I looked up Haruko and Dohee in order to find out how I could throw myself at their feet and dance with them. We flung ourselves about the room, like dolls catching dolls in succession. I slept and slept and slept, until I awoke with the desire to move and jump and dance and play. Still, their voices and movements are in my mind.

When did you ever experience this? What was it like? How did it influence your creativity? How can creative expression permeate more of your everyday life?