It was a bright, warm day on Sunday as people met at the American Visionary Arts Museum for Public Moves. On my part, it was well worth the half hour spent finding a parking place to take part in it. We met in the Cafe on the third floor to be briefed by Josh from the Shua Group. I and the rest of the sound crew also met with Steve Bradley to go over the final changes that had been made to the megaphone portion of the performance. Soon after, a sea of people made their way down the spiral staircase and out the door of the museum to mount Federal Hill. The sound of shrill frogs amplified by massive speakers on the Visionary Arts Museum and Science Museum was already in the air as the megaphone people reached the apex of the hill. I stopped closest to the Visionary Arts Museum, and the other two, Mui and Jessica, went further so that we were stretched out as a long line at the back of the performance space. From there, everything began.
From a technical perspective, the sound portion of the performance was near flawless. During our first performance at 2 pm, some elements like voice were dropped because of cuing issues. It wasn’t until I was on top of the hill that I realized how hawk-like a stare I would have to keep up in order to get my cues from Angelica on the roof of the museum. Even so, the whistles and feedback came in as planned and added an excellent dynamic to the performance. By the second performance, most of the issues we had during the first had been ironed out, making for a much smoother process. It was a great experience to be such an integral part of the piece.
Probably the best part of the experience was being able to observe the performers as almost a bystander. I watched them perform the movements, advancing from Intersection to Meeting and then to walking in a line down the hill. My favorite part was when the megaphones sounded a long whistle and all the performers froze. Suddenly, all the other people who had been mingling with the performers found themselves to be the only one’s moving. Some proceeded to leave the space and stand outside of the “boundaries” of the performance space. Others, including a cyclist, continued to move through the maze of frozen performers. The sound of their movement flooded the scene, which became the void of all other sounds. When the megaphones sounded again, everyone began to move again like nothing had happened. By this time, we had plenty of spectators asking questions.
I found that I needed to be better prepared to act as an information desk clerk, since about seven people asked me questions during the performance. Most were content with my simple one-liner “It’s a performance.” Others were persistent enough for me to expand my description to include snippets like “It’s called ‘Public Moves’” and “a series of public interactions.” All that got me to thinking about what exactly this piece seemed to mean from my perspective.
Objectively, Public Moves is a collection of everyday public interactions and motions that have been amplified and strung together as a series of distinct movements. Sounds of the everyday variety and not so everyday like bees and other insects are amplified accross the hill from two points of origin. The public moves through the performance space unhindered and oftentimes unwhittingly becomes part of the performance itself. Others are inclined to leave or at least watch from the sidelines. Some complain about the sound, others comment, point and laugh or just silently take in what they see. What does this mean?
Steve Bradley described Public Moves as a performance that calls into question the role of public space. What is acceptable in public space and what is not? Is public space suitable for all kinds of behavior and interactions? Is it a place for a performance of this caliber? Much the same way subtle sounds like insects gnawing through wood were amplified to the point where some people complained, the actions that a single person might perform were amplified two hundred times. Public Moves gives the public an opportunity to retrieve that which it has taken for granted and to make it more of a spectacle and a novelty. Performers had the opportunity to mimic those walking in or around the performance space during Intersection and to mimic typical public actions such as lying down in the grass or taking part in a group portrait. This illustrates two perspectives on the use of public space – that which is actually in occurrence and that which is generally typical. In both cases, the scale at which the action is portrayed is large enough to give it substantial attention. The significant presence of insect sounds in the piece beckons us to consider public space as a realm of social patterns and customs. Insects are very social and group-oriented creatures, much the same way people are prone to be in public areas like parks. The Meet portion of the performance created a repetitive pattern very similar to insect contact and separation in which information or a simple greeting is exchanged. Finally, the reaction to the performance given by observers seems to indicate an unwritten law as to what people find to be acceptable in public space. This law is entirely dependent on the individual and what he or she expects to find in such public spaces. Some are more willing to invite change than others, and this fact was made particularly obvious during the performance. It beckoned bystanders and performers alike to consider the potential of what can be done in public space, as well as the possible repercussions for doing them.
Though it’s all said and done, I still get chills thinking back on how awesome that experience was. Just the thought of two hundred people coming together with one purpose in mind has the epic proportions of a rock concert. Taking that sort of energy to Public Moves made it a great success and an unforgettable experience.


























