Last Thursday I went to see Vinnys Flat at The Bluecoat. It was veeeeeery interesting. I went with my friend Vicky, with whom I have joint custody of a rubber horse’s head bought from Ebay (a relic of a fancy dress party where the two of us went as the front and back).
Vinny’s Flat is a monthly thing; a bit of a mini variety show. It’s quite arty and although I spent most of the evening in a confused state, in some ways I feel like my brain’s acclimatising to all the randomness I’ve been exposed to lately. Perhaps I’ve been softened all these years by watching stuff that make a lot of relevant sense and this is my wake-up call!
Anyway, the reason I mentioned the horse thing is because the first performance was of a woman wearing nowt but this horse head and rather nice pair of red heels. She talked for about half an hour and then invited us to stroke her. Naturally I had picked the front row and was the first person to be selected for this honour. I patted her feebly on the head, so as not to be rude but at the same time avoid any body parts.
After spending the first ten minutes laughing at the nudity/horse head combo, I realised that listening to her was rather like spending time on the phone to self-absorbed friend rabbiting on about themselves. We’ve all been there eh? So I’d get a bit bored and then at twenty second intervals I’d remember with a start at that she was (un)dressed this way. Strange!
The following two acts were slightly eclipsed by that. How do you follow a nudey lady-horse? I eventually emerged from the building feeling a bit spaced out, like when you’ve awoken from a crazy nonsensical dream. I did consider that if someone had seen this show advertised and decided on a whim to go see it in order to break the monotony of their existence, they might not get what they bargained for. I guess though that Vinnys Flat have their devoted followers who sort of know what to expect.
So that was that. Over the weekend I was away chasing bunnies and the like in Centreparcs, so no culture there unless you count a pub quiz (which we won BTW but I don’t like to brag).
This week, I attended my first meeting of Future Station, the community engagement project run by art space Metal at Edge Hill station in order to involve the community in what’s happening there. They kindly whipped up some lovely grub and we had a really interesting discussion about all sorts, particularly how art can be made more accessible to young people. I met some very nice and interesting people there (including a chap with the most incredible Dickensian moustache I’ve even seen in real life) and will definitely be going to the next one.
Then went to Rawhide Raw, a stand up comedy (open mic) night hosted by the Baa Bar on Myrtle Street. It was compered by Comedy Trust’s own Sam Avery and had a variety of acts on including my old pal Katie Tracey, on her second ever appointment. She rocked, naturally, and as it was a gong show (audience members can vote you off in the middle of your act, which is indicated by a gong), she survived without being thrown off. It’s only three quid and there were absolutely loads of comedians on for your money, so I’d say it’s an ace way to break the week up.