Nostalgic Art

I first saw the performance art show Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind when I was a freshman in college. I was studying theatre at Calvin College and made a trip to Chicago for Spring Break. My two friends and I trekked around the mean streets of Chicago with only a vague approximation of the cardinal directions, clothed in nothing but thin hoodies, and looking for fun.

Using the last of our collective cash the three of us hailed a cab from Navy Pier to the corner of Foster and Ashland to a place called the Neo-Futurarium. The oddly named theatre, deliciously rugged and bare bones, served as the performance home of the Neo-Futurists and their flagship show Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind. Part improv, mostly scripted, all genius.

The premise of the show is simple: a company of actors attempts to do 30 short plays in 60 minutes. There's a 60 minute timer complete with buzzer, a menu given to each audience member featuring numbered play titles, and a string of paper numbers, 1-30, suspended from the ceiling. One play ends, the audience shouts a number, the actors pull down a paper number, the play corresponding to that number begins.

The plays themselves range from poignant, to bizarre, to funny. Often biographical topics they range widely from politics, life events, the latest news, weird ideas, you name it. They constantly cycle new plays into the rotation.

I was enchanted by the whole thing. My friends and I left the theatre that night freaking out because what we'd just seen blew our minds. We talked about the show almost the whole 15 block walk to the nearest bus station. There was the hilarious "Life and Times of Hammer", the serious one about the girl and her mother, the spoof one of that musical. Each time one of us remembered a favorite from the night it was greeted with a resounding chorus of "YES! I LOVED THAT ONE!"

Since then I've seen the show probably 5 or 6 more times. I try to go, or at least I think about going every time I'm in Chicago.

This got me thinking about art and nostalgia. This is a show I have a history with. Each time I step into that theatre I'm bringing with me the previous shows with me. I'm carrying the memories of sitting in those seats; I'm remembering those friends, those plays. It's a powerful thing.

It makes me realize that the connection between art and memory is so strong. There's something really incredible about a painting that made you cry, the first play that made you laugh REALLY HARD, or a film that opened your eyes to something. You remember art like that and that experience carries itself into all future experiences of that piece of art. Whether it's a new production of the same script or a future viewing of the exact same painting there's something incredibly strange and personal about the history we have with art.

This past weekend I went to Chicago again with my wife, Jacqui. We stayed with my friend Morgan who just moved to the city in November. Morgan was one of the friends who I first experienced Too Much Light with over 7 years ago and we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see the show yet again. His new apartment is about a 5 minute drive from the Neo-Futurarium and he, Jacqui, a handful of other friends and I caught the show.

As we settled into our seats my heart warmed thinking that I was still sitting next to Morgan, over 7 years later, about to enjoy a show that still makes us laugh and shake our heads at how much it rocks. I looked at Jacqui, sitting next to me, and remembered the first time I went to see the show with her. I was living in Chicago for a semester and we were still in our first year of being in love where everything felt new and just having her hold my hand made me feel electrified.

After the show we joked out in the cold for a few minutes before making our ways home and I thought about how I couldn't wait to see the show again.