Part 2 out of 6 field reports from Dan Dubois, an MCLA student in NYC for the APAP conference.

To any blog readers out there at MCLA, I apologize for the delay on information from the APAP conference in New York. As was mentioned in the first entry, the trip is moving at a manic pace. There's hardly time for coffee and a cigarette.

To bring everyone out there up to date, I think I'll start by recapping the four days I've missed:

Friday, January 19, 2006

This was the first day that the group actually registered for the APAP conference at the Hilton. If you've seen footage from any given day at the stock market, you have a pretty good idea of what the conference is like; there are people everywhere. From the lobby, the attendees flood up an escalator onto the second floor where a long row of counters resembling customs or an airport check people in. They're handed a laminated name badge and are let loose.

After checking in, the MCLA group sat down with Tony Micocci an established agent in the arts management field. On the third floor, the students huddled around a circular table in a congested room and listened to Tony chronicle his rise from a humble consultant to a full-fledged international agent. According to Tony, the job of an agent is to serve as the middle man between the producers and the presenters. An artist or producer hires someone like Tony to find venues where they can perform. I'm not sure about the rest of the group but, for me the small meeting was very informative and gave me new insight into the wheeling and dealing of the arts management world.

From there, the students migrated to a gaudy ballroom where a "plenary" was held. I put that word in quotation marks because, prior to the trip, I had never heard it used; neither had anyone else in the group I've spoken with. A plenary, I came to find out, means an official meeting where all qualified personnel are present (courtesy of dictionary.com). Although I had to leave the plenary early to write the blog, I did catch the beginning, where Andrew Zoli, the speaker, displayed a number of preposterous road signs in a slideshow, bringing the guffawing audience to tears. After showing a photo of a fitness center with two escalators leading up to the front doors, he showed a sign that read, "Touching Wires Causes Instant Death : $200 Fine."

Following the plenary, students referred to their conference schedules and chose from a list of lectures ranging from topics on leadership in arts management to implementing art in a campus setting.

We finally left the Hilton around 5 pm. We caught a subway that took us to Chelsea. Dinner for that evening was at "Nooche," a Japanese / Thai restaurant that resembled a disco in Tokyo, complete with turntables. The place was all glass and plastic that glowed pink and green. In this oddly aquatic-esque environment, we scanned the menus and ordered sushi and a number of bizarre chicken-based dishes I don't know the names of. A word of advice: If you ever have a choice between Japanese or Thai beer, Thai is the way to go. Japanese beer, I'm convinced is the identical recipe for Budweiser. It's all a big ploy. Thai beer is a hybrid of Sam Adams and Red Stripe. It's amazing and complements sushi very well.

We walked from Nooche to the Joyce theater where, after some seating confusion (the box office double-booked our seats) a Japanese dance troupe took the stage. Surreal is not a strong enough word for what this was. Plainly dressed dancers moved before a large projection screen. Small cameras on the corners of the stage recorded the movements of the dancers and played them in reverse on the large screen. The music sounded like angry raindrop electronic beats, like the Dust Brothers. The entire performance reminded me of a David Lynch film in the city at night. I recognized one basic theme in the performance; the players were animals trapped in a mechanized world where it's difficult to find one's place.

The second performance involved what looked like three schoolgirls. There were three white chairs and the girls blew bubble gum and felt their breasts while they moaned and danced. While the girls were Japanese, they were dressed in British attire; it made me wonder if the performance had something to do with imperialism. At a few points, I was genuinely terrified by what I was seeing. These girls writhed and shook spastically. One moment, they're flailing on the ground like a dying fish, the next, they're serenading the audience with a seductive lounge number.

Martin Wexler, director of the Joyce theater, gave our group a private Q & A after the second performance. I think his story about beginning as a file clerk at the Joyce and working is way up to director gave the students hope that they might someday a similar experience. Rags to riches in the arts management world.

OK, so it's around 10-10:30 at this point. You'd think that it was time to head back to the Sheraton…not a chance. We took the subway down to the West Bank Café in Times Square. Downstairs in the café, there's a lounge with a bar. On our schedules, this event was called "Cabaret Sampler." I was expecting a tame performance of showtunes. What we got was anything but.

Brendan, the host for the night was a quick-witted flamboyantly gay singer who kept the audience in hysterics for most of the show. After singing a song or two, he handed the stage over to anyone brave enough to perform. All of the singers were amazing, including our very own Katie Johnson. After bribing her with a free shot, Katie agreed to sing a song, one which I love but don't know the name of. I'll get back to you on that. Ask her about it if you see her. She's bashful, but damn! What a voice!

Slowly, the students trickled back to the hotel between 1 and 2 with the disturbing knowledge that we would need to be awake and dressed in the lobby by 9 that morning. All in all, it was a busy but fulfilling day.