Another winter weekend (this has to be one of the last, right?) began with the Friday night’s Main Event, DJ Spooky at Sanders Theater. Our seats were in the third row, which meant that not only were we as close together as sardines in a tin (bye, Dan), but we had to crane our necks to see all three screens, high above us. That said, the experience itself was really interesting. I’d love to know exactly what he’s doing, what he means by ‘re-mixing video live,’ and how much of what we see has already been edited, worked on, and filtered before the performance starts. Some clips from Birth of a Nation were un-altered, some were overlayed with grids and boxes that moved along with the actors on screen, and many of the title cards were changed to show “Paul Miller / PDM” instead of “David Griffith / DG” around the borders. The two outer video screens showed the same signal, and the central screen showed a second video signal. The three-hour film was broken down and condensed into just over an hour, and elements were often repeated, first on one screen and then on the two outer screens, over the course of the work. I was surprised to notice how much the music influenced my enjoyment and attentiveness. When the music was interesting, I was more interested in what was going on. Things picked up around the time of the Lincoln assassination sequence, and the whole thing, at just over an hour, was an example of thoughtful timing, smart use of rhythm and repeated imagery, and amazing technical expertise.

In his introduction and his comments afterward, Miller came across as smart, articulate, and funny – it was a real pleasure to listen to him talk about the work (“remember, this is an art project”), gesturing with his long, expressive hands. I was a little disappointed that Skip Gates wasn’t able to make it for the Q&A, but we stayed for a little of the Elvis-led session until it got too tedious. It was Josh’s thirtieth that night, so we headed to the CBC to celebrate with him, as much as he could while still tending bar. After a spring ale and a Blunderbuss Barleywine, we headed home.

We headed to Brookline for some errands and breakfast at Zaftigs on Saturday morning, and discovered that the Cinemasmith is moving to the basement of the Booksmith this weekend, which means lots of old videos for sale. I did get to rent my obscure movie about the London taxi exam, though, which made me happy. Saturday was designated as “ring shopping day,” which brought us to the Jewelers Exchange Building, one of a few buildings and storefronts on Washington St. dedicated completely to diamonds and rings. I feel like Boston doesn’t really have many commercial districts like other cities, but this one certainly qualifies. After a few tries, we found what we were looking for (and yes, mine cost twice as much as Aimee’s, but when you go by weight, it’s hard to win) and headed back home amidst the huge flakes of falling snow. Park Street station was mysteriously dark, unmanned, and free to enter, which led us to wonder if trains would actually service the station. They did, but I wonder why it looked so dead.



The big event of the evening was the 507 Putnam Reunion, with the return of prodigal son Cosby to the Hub. He and Tim and Mari met us out at Delux Caf?, which we quickly swapped for Rouge down the street due to the haze and crowds at Delux. Aimee and I had never been, so we had no idea it was a BBQ place, nor did we expect the Pizza Hut cups (nice call, Mari) and the decor that consisted almost exclusively of medals and trophies. Anyway, dinner – North Carolina pulled pork for me, The Sampla for Coz, Fried Chicken for Tim, and Asparagus Pho for the ladies (only in Boston…) – was excellent, and I said hello to one of my interns from work who’s waiting tables there these days. After watching the snow fall harder and harder as the night went on, we headed back to Tim and Mari’s place and enjoyed some records on the vertical including “After the Gold [not] Rush” and “II.” More friends came over later and we all talked about whatever it is people our age talk about these days: reciprocity in South American rural economies, crackpot conspiracy theorists who leave long-winded phone messages, and US Weekly. Another great night, especially for the opportunity to catch up with Cosby, and be a part of the psychically-connected hilarity that always ensues when we all get together.