Just a quick follow-up on an earlier post:
I said I'd upload the audio from my Tate piece, Who You Are, to a blog or something, so that those who struggled to comprehend it on the night, amid the eddies and galumphs of reverb that came bundled with the site and to which the PA set-up supplied was not quite equal, could bend another ear; and so that those who couldn't make it on the night should have the opportunity to re-enact the whole escapade in the comfort of their own home -- ideally a gargantuan steel home with an access ramp, blacked-out walls and unconvincingly stated redolences of mid-period Beckett.
That promised blog is now in place and the audio is available there for streaming or download. But to preserve something of the intimacy of the piece itself and its original performance situation, I'm not making it blandly available to all those who might merely stumble across it by accident. I feel more and more invested in the element of electivity in the theatrical encounter, init. So: you're very welcome to want to hear it, but I'm going to ask you to ask me for access. Send me an email: hello followed by at followed by chrisgoodeonline.com . I won't say no unless I think you're some kind of bot. You'll get an invitation to join the blog.
I'm also happy to make a CD for anyone who wants one, but I'm going to ask for a donation of £3 (or £5 for personages outside the UK) to cover materials, p&p and a little bit of my time. Drop a line to the same e-address, before or after hitting the PayPal donations button in the sidebar. Sorry to be so ungenerous but I really am eye-wateringly skint.
Also, The History of Airports should come back into stock this week -- apologies to those select few who are waiting on copies. For those who think they might conceivably want one -- and who wouldn't:
What we have here is in fact the 21st century reinvention of Poetic Drama. Roll over, TS Eliot. An essential purchase -- buy yours today.-- Total Theatre magazine
now's a good time to order -- in these hand-to-mouth times, there's really no way of knowing when I'll be able to get some more done.
In brighter news... er, no; no, I got nuthin. I think I broke my chair. Hmph. But, dagnabbit, there's lots and lots for us to do, and that's exciting, right? There's so much work ahead, and none of it's not down to us. (If in doubt, start here.)