|An Anthony Luensman neon ladder.|
Saturday night I saw Fiona Apple at the Aronoff Center for the Arts, downtown Cincinnati. Her performance conjured many images, many reactions inside my skull:
- Carrie right after the bucket of pig's blood gets dumped all over her head.
- This bit from "Lady Lazarus": Herr God, Herr Lucifer/Beware/Beware. Out of the ash/I rise with my red hair/And I eat men like air.
- That movie where the teenaged girl gets all mean and nuts with her mom, Thirteen.
- Edward Munch's The Scream.
- Holden Caulfield after a beautiful sex-change.
None of what I felt or heard or saw in my head was meant to be connected. It was total serendipity. But somehow Luensman's ladder and Ms. Apple's voice were meant to be combined into that one moment when there's perfection that was never intended. That's when art works the best for me. When it is unintentional, stupidly intertwined, momentary, and oddly blissful.