"Three episodes: Familiar ground, exotic ground, dangerous ground"
Scene: centre front of a large space, close to the audience (almost intimate) a woman stands in a silk flowery house-coat flanked on either side by two television monitors. An arc of chairs acts as an enclosing back border. Located on some of the chairs are props—a packet of cigarettes, matches, glasses, and a very large bottle of half-drunk alcohol.
The woman begins to sing, impassioned:
Crazy, I'm crazy tor feeling so lonely
Crazy tor feeling so blue
I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted
and then someday leave me tor somebody new
(Crazy by Willie Nelson, popularised by Palsy Cline)
and the monitors light up, bursting in to begin the second layer of narrative, like a verse (or a chorus).
The image on the twin screens shows the same woman (Andringa) drinking at a bar, wearing a fabulous leopard skin coat and matching pillbox hat ensemble, as the voice-over begins.
And yes, that voice (over) tells a tale of tragic love. It's almost a lament. Then the story unfolds in such a manner as to undermine itself and its passion, gathering audience sympathy only to sabotage it with parody, yet finishing (it could be said) with a happy ending. It's a melodrama with a twist.
Michelle Andringa, performing the character of the woman live as well as pre-taped, is a compelling and intelligent performer. She is also very funny.
A curious background in fine art, dance, theatre and singing in bands has led Andringa to approach performance art as 'entertainment': an approach based on the logic that 'performers can't bore audiences any more'. The 'performance art' mode allows her freedom to link her interests in song