In which Amis are too happy and fingers get cold.

I had an interesting cultural experience a couple weeks ago that I was rather surprised by and then promptly forgot about. It came about when I went to see a performance-art-esque-performance of The Hunchback of Notre Dame at a popular alternative theater space in Hamburg in conjunction with the theater class I audited this semester. It was a very, very interesting show that involved the audience walking in circles around a room wearing mega protective headphones attached to wheelbarrows with string and a lot of impossibly loud bass and fog and costumed persons breaking out of plastered walls and smashing boards over helmeted heads and... cool stuff, really. I went on a whim and hadn't done much research about it beforehand, was open to whatever happened and thus had a jolly good time.

On the bus afterward I found myself standing next to a man from my wheelbarrow pod of audience and he asked me what I had thought of it-- also asking if I was a typical, run-of-the-mill audience member and not a critic or theater studies major of whatevah. Unsure of his motive, I told him that I found it interesting and enjoyed myself, etc. He then let the cat out of the bag and said he was part of a very prestigious organization that provides funding for performing arts groups and had come from Berlin to check out this group after having received a funding request. After asking where I was from (and then asking if I could understand what he was saying and if he was speaking too quickly [ugh, bitte]), he said something along the lines of, "Well yes, that's very typical. Put an American in a room with a little stimulation and they'll be happy." He said this in what sounded to me like a very degrading tone, which I took to mean that American's aren't culturally refined enough to form their own opinions and recognize bad art. I immediately had the urge to defend myself and pointed out that, of course, not all Americans were like that. Then I realized that my reaction to the play that I had just shared with him fit his idea of Americans perfectly, and that what he said was actually somewhat applicable to me. I do tend to be very open to and content with most sorts of performing arts matters and only look for the best in a performance rather than focus on aspects that I don't particularly like. I know that this makes me a terrible critic, but is that necessarily bad? Sure, I know when something doesn't tickle my fancy, but I'm so anti-complaining at the core that I find it much more pleasant to talk about nice things instead. All depending on circumstance, of course. Ugh, now I'm all flustered again. Here, look at these!:

Now for some Hamburgian winter scenes. And before we return to the ice age, let it be known that I'm typing this with the window cracked and birdies tweeting outside about how pleased they are that the snow and ice is already gone (all in catchy statements of 140 characters or less, of course). Most of these were recently awakened from my hibernating hard drive.

< View from my swanky balcony. >

< / View from my swanky balcony. >

And my fave.