Why I Like David Blaine

David Blaine's stunts have a zen quality to them, say I, that affirms survival against a contemporary dread.

In the aftermath of 9/11, he stood on a tower for 36 hours, and survived.

With the broadening awareness of global warming and its concomitant rise in sea levels, he seals himself in a water globe for seven days, and emerges with injuries.

Y'see? Y'see?

Saturday night I went to Tiny Theater, a production of the Incubator at Ontological Hysteric. Eight short performances limited to a 6' x 6' x 6' space. The quality was uneven, but three were memorable in a positive way:

Barely There, a monolog where the performer plays with character / breaking character in a charming Pirandellovian way.

Neo-Futurist Play Redux 3.0.4, a four character piece that I thought was witty but the overserious person next to me thought was a waste of time (she had seen Faust earlier in the day and may have had her quality threshhold temporarily heightened).

A Cool Wind is Blowing, a gymnastic performance by Leigh Evans consisting of graceful fluid and utterly controlled movements of the legs during a headstand sustained for five minutes. The performer's head and shoulders were concealed in a large valise; after a few seconds, I felt my brain reinterpret what I was seeing as a headless figure with very long arms. The audience was awestruck. I want to take yoga classes with her.