~ ~ ~ CalArts Daze
~ ~ ~ Chapter 1
~ ~ ~ Mayday, Mayday
I arrived at school at noon, and since I didn't have class for another hour, I figured I would get a few things done beforehand. It was a blisteringly hot day, not unlike it had been the previous Sunday when I'd been shooting by the Chounaird dorm pool. Yet, I was wearing a white, long sleeve turtle neck with the sleeves rolled up. This was mainly because I'd gotten a mild case of sunburn the day before, and the coverage was enough to keep me comfortable in direct sunlight without being too hot. I walked into the main gallery, then into the cafeteria where a huge expanse of windows allowed a view into the courtyard on the second floor, where there was some kind of commotion.
Several dance school girls in wildly colored frilly dresses were directing a sea of human traffic down the stairwell to the second floor. I decided to join the crowd, commenting to someone nearby that this was madness. As the crowd reached the second floor we moved outside, down a path and toward a narrow bridge between the courtyard and another wing of the second floor. On this bridge, a number of girls dressed in wacky, colorful outfits were dancing rapidly, accompanied by some ecstatic music being played on a nearby boombox. Soon, they're skit was over, and a girl in a Victorian dress with a super-soaker, appearing to be the leader, belched orders through a megaphone. She led us back to the walkway that led through the much larger Lulu May Von Hagen courtyard, passing Tatum Lounge to the Ahmanson dormitory.
Following direction, we walked a bit further and stood, looking out over the bucolic, grassy east lawn. A rock band began to play, loud and screeching at first, but slowly evolving into some kind of fusion-blues. As they played, three girls wrapped from head to toe in tin foil emerged from the bushes writhing like serpents before imaginary snake charmers. As they danced they threw off their foil costumes and continued in only their black underwear. As this was in progress, those of us in the audience noticed that high up on the roof of the opposing building were a dozen or so people wearing multi-colored umbrella hats, jumping around throwing water balloons at each other. They then tossed yellow plastic buckets of water, squirt guns and water balloons off the roof to let them crash far below in the grass. Following this, they went synchronized peek-a-boo pantomime, one by one jumping up from behind the edge of the roof and back down again.
This went on for a while until they all picked up sheets of bright, colorful fabric and danced behind them, holding the corners of the sheets above their heads so that their bodies weren't visible. Then, as the band swung into the bottom of its tune, all of them threw one end of their respective sheets off the side of the roof and held on to the other. The sheets turned out to be much longer than expected, and extended all the way down the three story drop to the ground below. Everyone viewing applauded, the dancers triumphantly bowed and ran away. Our leader quickly belted us toward the Tatum Lounge court and told us we had to form a single file line and make our way down the wheelchair ramp. We had to do this by getting down on our hand and knees, as a half dozen girls in bizarre outfits were laying face-up over the handrails of the ramp, preventing us from standing.
As we crawled beneath the roof of women, they swung their hands like pendulums and asked us what the password was, what day it was, and so on. A response of 'Mayday' seemed to suffice in both circumstances. As we emerged from the canal, we found ourselves in the paved driveway between the lawn and the Ahmanson dorm building. Three girls dressed in red, green and yellow suits that looked like they were made of hula-hoops were slowly twirling on top of wooden posts. We all stood around, waiting for the next show to begin. Soon, behind us, the girls who'd made up the human roof began quietly singing the themesong from Fame, which foreshadowed the soon-to-erupt next scene. Suddenly, we were inundated in a gaggle of dancers dressed in fringed suits who danced to the recorded version of the same song as it blasted from a stereo system hidden on one of the Ahmanson flats.
As this was occurring, our leader was spraying us with her super-soaker and the dancers were wielding a paper bag full of water balloons, with which they pelted both each other and us. The spray of cool water through the air felt particularly good in the mid-day heat. After their performance, the dancers retreated and we were led again up a stairway to the main Ahmanson flat that connected to the many levels of the dormitory. At the edge of the stairway we were obliged to bend down and pick up tiny paper cocktail umbrellas, then place them in our hair. As we walked up the staircase we looked up at the stairs above that wrapped around the top floor of the dorm and saw three dancers appear from nowhere and begin singing the Copa Cabana song, dancing with precise punctual movements that delighted the crowd to laughter and more applause.
Soon we reached the top of the staircase and walked out onto the platform that straddled the sheer edge of a huge hill that spilled down into a low valley of long, soft grass and willow trees that ended promptly in a paved street. On the platform we were treated to four tables of chocolate chip cookies laid out on metal trays and an orange cooler full of pink lemonade. As we ate our cookies and sipped our lemonade, we noticed the high-power stereo system that had been playing the previous mentioned Fame music. Now we heard the DJ switch on a PA system as the twinkling of a piano floated from its speakers. Soon the piano was joined by a woman's voice, which we could tell was not pre-recorded. We all gathered at the rail that overlooked the valley far below to see what was happening. Down in the center of the valley was a beat up, old pick-up truck with a brilliant black Grand Piano strapped down to its bed with yellow fasteners. A man was sitting at the piano in a small chair bolted to the truck's bed.
Atop the shiny piano stood a thin Asian woman dressed in striking red, which contrasted strongly again the black piano and the lush, green of the valley. Her dress was flowing beautifully in the gentle breeze as she sung, her words carrying out of the amplified speakers and drifting like clouds of incense into the sky. All around the pickup was a circle of dancers each swinging a bright red sheet, of the same color as the singer's dress, in the air. As the girl finished her song the crowd clapped enthusiastically and the pickup drove away. We ate more cookies and wondered what was next on the agenda. So we watched as from opposing sides of the valley came two groups of six people who ran at each other brandishing lawn umbrellas. They had a mock battle which ended in all of them dancing in a circle and falling down. Though they soon got back up to hide inside their umbrellas, which they pushed up and down in sequential order.
These dancers then planted their umbrellas in the ground all around the valley and skipped away. Next, we heard the beat of drums coming from within one of the stands of willow trees. From beneath the tree we watched a procession of burly young men, most of whom had no shirts on, slowly making their way into the valley. They were carrying tabla drums, which they were striking with hooked instruments that resembled curved bones. As they set the rhythm, more dancers meandered out from the trees and put on yet another show worthy of all Spring's splendor. It was amazing, and when it was all over the DJ behind the stereo controls cued up some music for us to enjoy as we ate more cookies, drank more lemonade and walked off back to the campus to get to our 1 o'clock classes.