Last Sunday in Richmond, we scared little children and stalked strangers.
Or so it seemed until they realized what was really happening. We were actually performing The Richmond Playbook by Danny Clay, who had visited campus with us three times to prepare a large group of music students for this happening, which occurred both in Camp Concert Hall and out on the green in front. Danny composed a series of games derived from the ones he workshopped at the 2017 Lab to be performed at Richmond and uniquely shaped by the students.
Here’s some examples of us rehearsing a couple of the games:
Each of the games is written as a set of instructions, and to the extent any pitch is required, Danny gave a set of pitches to choose from. He envisioned the performance starting inside, with Eighth Blackbird playing an initial game from the audience that brought us on stage. Then we played games with the students, who were sprinkled throughout the audience and on stage. And then we led everyone outside, audience included, where we played yet another set of games without intentional and sometimes unintentional audience. We followed children around, playing pitches to their footsteps, which frightened many of them until they realized they were the ones actually in control. We stalked unwitting adults in the same way, some of whom enjoyed the attention, and others not so much. At the end, Danny summoned us to gather around the central fountain and converge on a single E-flat, and he signaled the end of the performance with the ding of a red bell.
The weather couldn’t have been more perfect – 75 degrees and partly sunny – and it was such a fun way to engage musically with an audience. Having a simple set of instructions or parameters is actually quite freeing, because then you have just enough structure to improvise within. I saw everyone having a blast, laughing out loud, enjoying the absurdist nature of what they were doing but also appreciating the quite profound effect it had as a whole.