#radiohole

[nonlinearlineage]

Ethyl Eichelberger wearing Brunhilde's battle helmet from Radiohole's Wurst, saying a last goodbye to the Glass House as we pack up the last bits of the installation.

[francisedec]

Release the hounds!

[shadowandardentaquarium]

Inflatable Frankenstein Radiohole @ the Kitchen NYC

[thefuriesrock-blog]

An Update about The Furies

Hello people of the internet. Well January was a crazy month. I (Nick Link) spent several weeks in the hospital, had my stomach cut open, and had a foot of my colon removed. Enough about me this blog is about The Furies.

Before I was hospitalized I told you we started recording. There are five drum tracks ready to go. I listened to them yesterday and well, they're kinda boring because they're just drum tracks. Not that they're bad, they just need the rest of the music. We'll be jumping back into recording in the coming weeks.

As you may have assumed we've also taken a break from playing live music, but alas we have a show in our near future. We will be the opening act for Not Blood Paint's album. Which they are throwing at Radiohole's space, The Collapsable Hole on February 25th 2012. Bad Credit, No Credit and Pass Kontrol will also be playing so it should be one hell of a show. We saw NBP last night and they played some pretty incredible new songs. So we hope to see you all out at that one.

Lastly here is a illustration James created to forever remind me of the time I spent in the hospital. 

Alright all you kids, that's what's happening with The Furies, now what's happening with you?

[epiphora-newyork-blog-blog]

The Sum of Their Methods

Describing how his company, the Rude Mechs, came to develop a sequence in their latest show, The Method Gun, where two men prance across the stage completely naked, their penises held toward the sky by batches of balloons, writer Kirk Lynn recalled a gauntlet thrown at the Orchard Project in 2007: "Our friends from Radiohole were there, and they were out running around filming each other naked in the woods at night, and we wanted to rise to the challenge."* It's not just the idyllic image of a workshop artopia where late night nakedtime leads to new material that charms me. It's how aptly this scenario of group-on-group escalating dares epitomizes ideas of artistic resourcefulness in the show that I love. If The Method Gun grapples with big questions: How does a company move forward when a guru abandons them? How does a group decide when there's no lone decider? (Who pulls the trigger?) Rising to challenges from a like-minded ensemble proves one fruitful response. Seeing where the passions, whims, unfulfilled expectations of individuals within your own group take you, another. Inviting your public to help reconstruct the legacy of your enigmatic mentor via the Internet, another! Attempting to assemble a play out of the negative space of "A Streetcar Named Desire” after removing its four main characters, yet another. Bereft of a single tried-and-true way, the company discovers a multitude of new ways. Once you burn your idols and quit searching for an authoritative method, your collective net for catching inspiration exponentially widens, and together you move toward unknown territory. -- Katie

The Method Gun plays through March 11 at Dance Theater Workshop in Chelsea.

Members of the Rude Mechs developing 'The Method Gun' at the Orchard Project in Hunter, New York, 2007

*Robert Faires, The Austin Chronicle (March 28, 2008).

[epiphora-newyork-blog-blog]

Down a Radiohole

Katie's thoughts on Radiohole's January 10 performance of "Whatever, Heaven Allows" at the Collapsible Hole in Williamsburg.

 1. The performers are teching the show -- lights and sound at least -- on iPods strapped to their wrists! (Like watches!) I bypass the fear that We're All Androids Now, to see how the devices function as performance tools. There's a technician-wizard perched, stage right, behind an iMac. Maybe he’s running the video, or ensuring all these audibles and visibles don’t go haywire. Are the performers overwhelmed with the demands of telling their story and minding these gadgets? What happens if there’s an accident? Technology seems to give them agency; accidents offer something else to play with.

2. Dirt is matter out of place. “Egg on my plate is breakfast, but egg on my face is dirt.” (Lewis Hyde) Shot glasses full of chocolate pudding on stage promise splattering, but licking the pudding off my sweater distracts me from what's happening. In theory an adult woman pounding a PBR seems Brechtian, but watching Erin Douglass down her can in one slow chug moves me to swig in communion.

3. Why didn't I read the wikipedia on Paradise Lost this morning, or watch Douglas Sirk clips on youtube? Beer explodes onto my head, puts my sweater sucking on hold, and draws my attention back up at Eric Dyer. He's covered in red goop and slipping-n-sliding up- and down-stage on wobbly two-by-fours. He's about to land in my lap.

4. Maggie Hoffman sings a spirited rendition of Helen Reddy’s I Am Woman, and even the curmudgeons enjoy being in a room where something weird is happening. Later that week this inspires a winter ritual of my own: singing along to the song at home -- or on a lunch walk -- hips wiggling and shoulders shimmying. I'm celebrating the vivifying yuckiness of being human. Maybe iPods where our watches once were won't necessarily make us all androids; maybe gadgets (like a Radiohole show) have the ability to help us be physically more alive.