By Brian Bulkowski, September 8, 2003
In the last two years, burning man has been revitalized by two factors. First is the experiment of ticket prices, and second is an expansion of burning man to a wider geographic group. Other benefits have been a return to more standard (and fun) weather patterns, and the adjustment in the community to rules and police.
At first it seemed so deeply
wrong to pay upwards of $200 for a ticket when the old ticket price was $35.
Slowly, though, it dawned on everyone that the other expenses of burning man
(shelter, gas, food, whatever art you bring) would often add up to a few
hundred dollars over the course of the year's planning, so getting an early
ticket and paying $175 or so was a reasonable fee. Then was the realization
that you could apply for a grant. With Burning Man handing out millions of
dollars in ticket sale money back to artists, putting together something small,
or something large, became more reasonable.
I believe we have the grant system to thank for a greater profusion of art. I
don't think the art is better, but at least we're back to the stage where the
art is numerous and widespread. I felt like an idiot for not seeing a friend's
art – I thought it was mobile, but it turned out to be stationary, and I must
have breezed past it a number of times.
I heard exactly one person say they were exited by the theme "Beyond Belief" – and dozens who were befuddled and confused. The first effect this has is that people didn't participate as fully, but the second more difficult problem is that the granting system only applies to people who are energized by the theme. The arts committee grants only to art projects within the theme – so if it doesn't speak to you, you might need to sit out a particular year. I believe the granting system should change, but admit that I didn't see the spread of grants, and what made the cut and what didn't.
The statistic I learned from a good friend who volunteers was that about 7,000 people were admitted on Sunday, meaning that the city was at about quarter strength in the first day. I'm used to numbers of 1,000 people on the first day, a few more the second day, a few more the third. I attribute this to more groups from further away. If you're coming from Seattle, let alone New York, the travel alone is a substantial expense. You'll be maximizing your experience, and staying as long as you can.
The police have been with us at Burning Man for a few years now. My first year, 1999, must have been about the last cop-free (or cop-lite) years. The next few years just felt like an affront, the destruction of the "autonomous zone" ideal. This year was one of fewer marked patrols, but a greater number of undercover cops. A friend of mine saw one at a Rosin Coven gig – or was pretty sure that was a gun under a stranger's arm.
Mostly, Burning Man has just become accustomed to police activity. We lost something with the massive influx of police, but BM is still great.
I do call on the Burning man central committee to expose what kind of police actions occur. This is typically the job of a local newspaper's "police blotter". Actions and arrests, the size of your police force, the patterns of enforcement, are a matter of public record and need to be exposed.
The weather over the last two years was awesome. Just like it's supposed to be – hot in the day, cool but beautiful at night. Last year was perhaps even better. Each year is a gamble, and it makes a big difference. On years with heavy wind and rain, some art didn't get set up, or got destroyed before anyone really saw it.
Techno goes with burning man because techno goes with drugs, and having a good boogey while flying is a fine thing. The problem is techno to the exclusion of all other music forms. Those techno guys get such massive systems, a big generator, and dance all night long. There's no camp blaring punk at all hours. Last year was Funk Camp's last, and I missed them this year. There used to be a band from santa cruz which played on a big white stage and did good world-folk thing.
This year I heard only one or two non-techno (non-trashistan) sources. I'm trying to figure out why that would be. The people I know who were musical performers had few stages – really just a couple – to play at. Individual people's stages were small and unknown. The main stage was bad. Building a big stage on the playa is tough, very tough on equipment (although the techno guys fund theirs). The guys down at the corner seemed to have a decent amount of live music, and they used their techno system, set up their box truck as a weatherproof stage, and had some guitar rock.
Maybe it's time to create an alternative. Get funded to rent a big system, set up a stage, and be lit most of the time. I remember the old "Arena" camp, which always set up an amazing stage, but you'd drive by and it was always dark. The main trick to always having things going is an area with two stages, so you can get up and down while a band is playing. It would still be no-sound-check on-the-fly stuff, but better than the shows we've played.
Gigsville seems to try that idea, and seems to fail. I had never been to gigsville before I played there this year, and I figured out why. The stage was sunk way back from the esplanade, pointed in a different direction, and pretty small (church of Wow's stage was bigger).
Center camp is still wrong. If center camp is a center, it's nothing like the lifeblood. It's not a core in any sense – philosophically, emotionally, artistically. The performances at center camp are, by and large, aweful. Each time Rosin Coven plays center camp it's our worst show. The sound system is terrible, and run by people who – for whatever reason – don't have their act together. The audience at center camp is always dead, sleeping the couches. My center camp experience is typically viewing a sea of crashers and people with nowhere else to go.
One year I had a great experience at center camp. I was tired to making coffee in my car, and it was a cold morning. I pedaled down for a quick cup, and found a group of people I camped with last year, all down for the same reason. We sat and chatted for a while, talked about the differences in the years and camps, caught up.
My suspicion is that the best direction for center camp is elimination, or breakup into smaller areas. By lumping coffee vending, true public crash/chill space, and public stages, the camp itself is too small, and too scattered. Break apart the functions, and place them on the edges of the center camp circle. Make a chill / crash space. Make a big stage. Make a coffee vending area. Have the actual center be plain playa, open to the movement of the people. Then the center can become a more representative center.
This year wasn't as much fun for me as 2002. In 2002 I had more of a frenetic energy, due to personal circumstances. The weather was great, and Rosin Coven gigged every night. Somehow I reached some kind of ephiany on the cello, and had some great nights running around with Dan and Pickle. The Duck was part of our focus, going out almost every night to play – sometimes at 2 am. This year there was less Rosin Coven activity, which I planned to make up for with more personal activity, but the cello broke early on, and I got sick in the last few days. The comparison to 2001 and 2000, though, are stunning. Those were my worst years, partially because of the weather, partially because of the artistic dynamic.