Archive for 2003

December 14th, 2003

MUT004

How to Tell the Living From the Dead
Gabriel Boyer

8.5" X 5.5" | 143 pages | $12.00 | Now Available

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Click to enlarge


It is a life condensed into a slim volume in which the heartache that oozes from off every page is as much the author’s individual pain, as it is the reader’s indecision concerning his or her own purpose in reading this book. It was begun when I was only nineteen and conveys much of that adolescence frenetic need to know intermingled with the accompanying stillborn cynicism. There are those who find this to be a poetic and dense thing they pore through in an effort to discover some kernel of meaning within the extended descriptions of minute physical action. It was an effort to make the nonreal real, to push myself into an internal world more snug than the larger insecure world of everyday reality. It involves a man name of Reginald and his son Frank, and how little they understand each other, a man was born with his arms far apart and a space where his body should have been, and a son he abandoned when the child was no more than four come to find him again, and a never-ending stream of memories caught in frustrating little soundbites so that the moment vanishes just as that definitive line would’ve explained it all was about to be spoken.


October 15th, 2003

MUT003

The Textbook Tapes
Gabe Boyer and The Thousand Eyes

CD | Enhanced with book | $10.00 | Now Available

Click to enlarge.

Click to enlarge.

 

I was sitting in a midtown cafe with these two chameleons in shark-skin. At least that’s how I saw them at the time, tired from years of broken dreams and shattered hopes, but as they spoke this initial impression erased itself from my forebrain and found me gawking at their open maws. They were gonna turn my book into music, make the words into nodes and lick them. That’s what they said. To create harmony out of the giggling whiplash I’d experienced some twenty years previous.

 

As I saw it, the words themselves were whole. They were large buttons you press when you can’t sleep at night. But these guys wanted to turn it into butter and pour it into people’s ears. I sat down. They sat down. We gathered round the half-sized pianette in the corner of Gabe’s Manhattan townhouse and Mal brought on the charm in the form of a B#.

 

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June 9th, 2003

MUT002

Manifesto I
Various Authors

5" X 7.5" | 91 pages | $10.00 | Out of Print

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Click to enlarge


It began as a class. Zach and I were teaching a class on manifesto-writing. In the course of preparing for that class I fell in love with the style of the manifesto, and we agreed to put out a collection of manifestos culled both from the web and any persons could be cornered in a dark room to state in short declarative sentences their beliefs. Some of the texts contained in this book are beautiful manifestos of a nihilist variety, such as Manifesto of Negativity by Harry Polkinhorn, Society of the Future by Larthom Spirochete, or Performance Indoctrination Model by Ray Langenbach, while others play with the form of the manifesto itself, such as Meg Rotzel’s Declaration of Meg or Manifesto 72-B by Crimethinc., though quite a few are heartfelt expressions of a desire for change, such as The Culture of the Real by Sean Micka, The Wild Ranch Manifesto by Tim Haugen, FRICMT by Jonah Rapino, and Manifesto for a New Instrumentation by Jason Sanford.


January 12th, 2003

Bedroom Theater

| | $ |

 

It began when my roommate changed the light bulb in my bedroom. It ended in a five-hour crying spree in the Nevada desert, but will also never be over for me. Bedroom Theater is a productionless event in which there is no audience, only people performing for each other, for the sheer pleasure of performing, and I have resuscitated it here in Chicago for the simple reason that I am lonely and want to slather my loneliness on others.

 

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January 11th, 2003

The Boston Globe

Lofty standard they perform `Bedroom Theater’ in one of JP’s dwindling artist spaces
Scott S. Greenberger, Globe Staff

| | $ |

Boyer reads from Dracula

Boyer reads from Dracula

 

A curtain is furled under a pipe that runs just beneath the ceiling, and a spotted cat wanders in. On the makeshift stage there is a ripped couch, a battered metal file cabinet labeled “This Was Your Life,” and a swath of green shag carpet.

 

Sporting long sideburns and blue Chuck Taylor sneakers, Gabriel Boyer takes the stage and launches into a reading of “Dracula.” The spectators arrayed on the performer’s bed are less than comfortable: The slats beneath his mattress aren’t nailed in, so they tend to shift whenever somebody moves too much.

 

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