In the last couple of months, I’ve been going through my extensive collection of books and files, all of which will eventually be donated to George Mason University’s library. One of the items I came across was a CD which contained photos and text related to cloudism, a performance piece that made its debut on June 10, 2010 at the Poetry Lab at the now-defunct Soundry in Vienna. Virginia. Thanks to Steve Allen May, the piece found the light of day. Or, maybe I should say, the night sky.
cloudism was a happening. It was a mind piece. It had its roots in fluxus.
Think John Cage.
Think Yoko Ono.
It was first conceived while I was an MFA student at Mason. But it would not have been totally realized without the input of two incredible individuals: Graham Pilato and Allison Clapp Fuentes. Together, we fleshed out the elements of the performance into a happening that no one, including ourselves, could have anticipated, especially those who came to what they thought would be just an ordinary poetry reading. But that’s just what a happening is: unpredictable. A performance in which anything can occur.
One of the major elements of the piece was a cello. Tina Hughes, our cellist, was given simple instructions: play the sound of sky. Instructions not as simple as they seemed. But sky was demanded and sky was played.
And so, as the saying goes, the sky was the limit. And to there did we go.
cloudism eventually made its way to the Capital Fringe Festival and then, later, to the Waddell Gallery at Northern Virginia Community College where it is was transformed into an interactive exhibit. Another happening where anything and everything did happen.
Eleven years later, cloudism lives on, if only in electronic form, And so I’d like to share what I found (yes, cloudism is now a collection of found objects) hidden in an overcrowded bookcase, waiting to be see the blue rays of your electronic device.
Here they are. And here. and here
Can you hear the sound of sky?
