So were are all waiting to go into the studio. Eventually it’s ready and we tiptoe in over criss-crossed lines of string and we find spaces between them. There’s two large arrows on the floor forged from duct tape and newspapers- these are pointing in opposite directions on the floor – one to the stage area and the other to a computer running sound studio software behind us.
Sat at a messy table before us, is an unwashed gentleman sitting in a dirty dressing gown, stuffing cheerio-like cereal into his mouth with lots of milk in the bowl. He’s quite feverish with it. On the floor is a bucket which he uses to vomit out the cheerio-likes which splatter loudly into it.
There’s a video projection behind him, playing Queen’s performance at Live Aid, and the bit in Bohemian Rhapsody where Freddy Mercury sings “I don’t wanna die, I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all” is played at about a third of its regular speed. This is intercut with webcam-style images of the artist before he got so scruffy and unwashed, his hair is neater and he seems to be reading emails – the imagery resembles time-lapse footage as if some large amount of time has passed and how the health of the artist has plummeted over the last few days, or perhaps months…
Every now and then the artist leaves his table and walks along a newspaper arrow on the floor to the computer running the software. I am the only one sat on a chair. As he walks past me I realise he is naked and his genitals are inches from my face.
He looks a like a little grumpy automaton, kind of purposeful and purposeless at the same time and wanders between breakfast cereal and vomit and the ‘work area’ of the room. Digital detritus and caustic sounds fold into the mix and this is generally the template of the fifteen minutes the show lasts.
“That’s It” he says, ending the show and he goes back to his seat.
I’ve been to Instal 2010.