1995/12/29 COCO I am the Chairperson
(dream) I am walking on a dark road. I go into an unfamiliar, Japanese house. The gate is a traditional sliding wooden door. There is an entrance way to the house and apparently business is conducted there, but nobody comes out. I feel awkward having entered a house I have no business being at and exit. There is a curious sign posted in the vestibule.
"This is not the entrance for people for blood."
There is a second entrance way so I try going in there. It is secluded but more splendid than the previous one, with a large wooden door that is left open for people to go in and out. There is another sign posted here saying "Blood for Sale." Blood being sold, in other words, professional donors, I thought and left the building.
I walk a bit further along the same road and enter a theatre. Nothing is playing, but there is a small audience, fewer than ten people I suppose. Since I had come this far, I decide I'll go on stage. There's a scenario; it's not a formal theatre; I don't need a scenario for the dancing parts; if I have a script for the speaking parts I'll probably be all right. I'll do the whole thing solo, so I can do whatever I like.
Somehow the performance is a success, and I develop fans. Young men, apparently wanting to see more of my performance, surround me watching from a distance, but do not come over. Rumor has spread that I am interesting.
A young man works as my assistant. I am facing my second performance. I step out on stage, but there is another acting company already there. I look down at my own feet and see that although I should be dancing barefoot, I still have stockings on, and they are bagging. How unsightly, I take them off so I won't be booed.
Their performance is endless, so I inquire with my male assistant. He says that he booked them with me so that the theatre rental fee is not ridiculous. The mood seemed too different to appear beside a theatre group for children. They perform puppet and children's theatre, but have tradition and lots of ardent fans. They may have been well organized, but I thought they were boring. The troupe members are mostly women. They make music of a sort on an original instrument made of needles driven into a board. Neither was this really new. When I passed them backstage, I was haughtily told to "be careful!" "I heard nothing about performing with this troupe," I say to my assistant, but to prevent hurt feelings, add, "it is not bad, I just cannot do it if I am not informed ahead." With that my assistant and I go to see the spokesperson for the troupe.
Her appearance is next, and as she gets ready she tells me, "if you want to become a company member there would be token pay, but first you must pay a 50,000-yen membership fee." I don't want to become a member of this theatre troupe; the conversation gets nowhere. On stage they are playing rather pleasant music. They are performing Talking Heads' cover song, the one with the lyrics something something "around the world." It is a pretty good arrangement but doing it on accordian is I think rather crass. (The end.)
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