dorian wood is not here to comfort you.

My brand-new single, “Glassellalia”, is finally in the hands of the world! It is a duet I recorded with the incredible Angela Correa (Correatown and Les Shelleys), and features several other talented musicians, including the 45-piece choir, The Difficult Women.

The download-only EP includes 3 “b-sides”, and a PDF of fully-illustrated lyrics! Follow along with the song and be simultaneously disturbed! :-)

The EP can be downloaded through my Bandcamp page. You can also stream it there, and if you enjoy it, I would love you LONG TIME if you actually purchased it! It’s only $5, you get 20 minutes worth of music, AND you get to support the creation of independent music! I was able to fund this EP (and the forthcoming album, Rattle Rattle) thanks to the generosity of friends, as well as my own personal funds. So, if you enjoy the EP, and you want to share it with your loved ones, go right ahead and pass along the following link, but make sure you tell ‘em to buy it if they like it! :-)

Download the “Glassellalia” EP by clicking here!

Thanks so much for listening, my friends! Much love!

XOXOXOXOXO

Dorian

Seating is limited! RSVP here: http://www.scpr.org/events/2012/01/12/between-beats-evening-dorian-wood/

Last week, L.A. got the beans knocked out of her with a seriously FUCKED UP windstorm that left us without power for 4 days. It was totes unpleasant. We had no heat, either. Our puppy was cold, and I got to whining a lot. But others had it much worse.

Take my friend here, for example. It has been up in that tree ever since. I recently began going on morning walks (I’ve lost 10 pounds thus far…skinny jeans, here I come!), and I noticed this little fella on my route the morning after the storm. Look at it, still proudly boasting its red and green splendor against the AM baby blue, with not a breath left in its little body. Legend has it, years ago, a Highland Park pet shop burned to the ground, and a flock of these parrots escaped. They’ve been breeding like airborne bunnies ever since, and today, you can see/hear them in cacophonous clouds, visiting from tree to tree. They’re a loud bunch, but damn, I’m so thrilled they’re our neighbors.

However, Mother Nature said “no” to my friend here. In fact, it was one fat, resounding NO, as I’m pretty certain no living creature would ever voluntarily opt to go in this manner. Imagine, lovelies: You’re flying, you’re majestic (AND cute!), enjoying your freedom and good company, when WOOSH! An 80mph gust snatches you from thin air and slams you against a tree, SO HARD that, in a matter of seconds, you’re left ingrained into the tree bark, unable to fly, breathe, squawk…you’re alone…everything around you is blowing the fuck up…woosh…wooooosh…you’re dead. And your body is just…there. For about a week, anyway, until some fat boy stands directly underneath you and starts taking pictures for 5 minutes, which prompts the nearby house-dwellers to be all “WTF?”, and then they wait until the fat boy walks away before they finally pluck your fragile, brightly-plumed body from the tree and graciously toss it in the garbage: your final burial place, which is shared with heaps of spoiled fridge food that didn’t survive the outage. Your soul, naturally, is in a far better-smelling place.

And, thanks to sick fucks like me, your physical beauty will live on forever. And you will never leave that fucking tree.

This world is a bastard. Lord love a bastard do.

XOXOXO

Dorian

I am proud and honored to have performed with the great Marina Abramovic in her piece entitled An Artist’s Life Manifesto, which was presented last night as a fundraiser for the Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles.

During the days building up to the performance, many artists, critics and self-professed know-it-alls hopped on the bashing wagon driven by choreographer Yvonne Rainer, who claimed via her misguided letter that Marina and MOCA exploited the participating artists by paying them very little to perform; that the piece was fascist in nature; that the performers all wanted a shot at showbiz, and other misinformed nonsense.

It is important to note that Yvonne had not even seen the performance when she wrote her rant. Jeffrey Deitch, the director of MOCA, later invited Yvonne to come see one of the rehearsals, in a PR move that I did find incredibly disrespectful to Marina. Yvonne accepted the invitation, and apparently stopped many of my fellow performers to ask questions and, essentially, harass. Why was she there? Is it now OK for artists to crash others’ rehearsals and write stink pieces about them? It irks me to no end when public tantrums like these are rewarded.

As for claims that the performers were exploited; that they received meager pay while seeking super-stardom, what a crock of sour grapes bullshit. I very much chose to participate in this project. I’m delighted I did. I’ve been an active performance artist for about 6 years, and I do not expect to end up on the cover of US Weekly for it. It’s always nice to get paid, but it’s even nicer to do what you love. I work for free A LOT, and so do many of the artists I work with. And I would have GLADLY participated in Marina’s performance for free.

As with many other great artists whom I’ve had the great pleasure to perform with in the past, I stand firmly and proudly by the work. Marina succeeded in creating an intense environment at the gala. The attendees all had to wear lab coats over their pricey garments for the duration of the event. Many of them were not happy. According to the performers who portrayed centerpiece heads at each table, many attendees complained and complained about how uncomfortable they were made to feel by the silently-gazing heads. Singer Svetlana Spajic sang a couple of times, her beautiful, epic voice competing with the disrespectful chattering of the attendees. For the most part, the attendees were loud and rude. And unhappy. I participated in a chorus of 18 people, militantly shouting Marina’s manifesto in unison (“An artist should not make himself into an idol! An artist should not fall in love with another artist!” and so forth). Our fevered spit sprayed all over the attendees as they dined. The unease spread across the room. Proper. And then Debbie Harry came out to sing a couple of her hits, and the crowd was in familiar territory again, dancing and laughing with mouths filled with food. Life-sized cakes of Marina and Debbie were brought out by shirtless escorts. Slices of lady body parts were fed to the attendees. A frenzy. A cacophony. The animals were set loose. It was the worst audience for Marina’s work. And yet, kinda perfect. An ocean of insight. I try not to generalize, but man oh man, there sure were a lot of rich assholes last night who acted like they never left the house!

I have been a great admirer of Marina’s work since I witnessed her MoMA retrospective, The Artist Is Present, about 2 years ago. I was deeply moved by her amazing body of work. To work with her was, indeed, a dream come true. For the duration of our production, Marina was incredibly kind and generous to the performers. She treated us with utmost respect and consideration, always making sure we were taken care of during the rehearsals. Very human, very straight-forward. Even as the controversy escalated on the days prior to the performance, she addressed it and opened a dialogue with all of us. She looked at it right in the eye. A fearless artist with nothing to hide. Proper.

Also, the Marina cake was pretty tasty.

Love,

Dorian

Construal and “The Self”, performed with artist Mariel Carranza and other artists at Highways Performance Space, 10/14/11. Photo: Lever & Fulcrum

Whew. It’s been a fun past few months.

It seems like I’ve been performing all manner of strangesies for most of 2011. From Stockholm to the L.A. County Fair, I’ve shifted gears so many times, my parts need lubing! :-)

In the midst of all this, I’ve also been recording and mixing Rattle Rattle. Everything’s been recorded, but there still remains an ocean of elements to work with. A sound to be captured and perfected. It needs to shit fire and bleed nails. And it’s not quite there yet. But goddammit, it will be. I pray, by next spring.

Delays, delays, delays. I’m sorry. And thank you, at once. Imagine your worst enemy. Now imagine his/her pus-ridden, severed head on a silver platter, garnished with buttermilk biscuits and gravy. I want Rattle Rattle to accomplish this for you. I want to make you shit yourself with fury.

Something like the Occupy Wall Street folks. They take over bridges, sidewalks, the attentions of compliant suits…and finally, the worldwide media. Huzzahs to them! A pulsating rhythm that anyone can march to and collectively shake things up. Wall Street may be a portal in the right direction…but I’m guessing you have to actually be there, right?

Tell that to the seemingly delusional misfits who are “occupying” City Hall in Los Angeles.

I served one full day of jury duty the other day (yay). During our lunch break, I took a short stroll over to City Hall, and viewed a sea of tents stationed along the surrounding lawn. Signs had been staked into the ground, with “OCCUPY LA” scrawled in a rainbow of fun colors. Pumpkins were laid out on the grass, with print-outs of Republicans (and the occasional Democrat) taped onto them. Schedules on dry-erase boards laid out the various activities planned for the imminent “occupation”. Kind strangers pulled up to drop off water, blankets and food. A makeshift “university”/circle jerk was in full session, as psychobabbly teens and their mentors were going on and on about “rallying” and “mission statement”. A bespectacled hipster interrupted the session to promote the “Zero Waste” initiative, as he handed out a large stack of fliers to everyone present. Create waste to eliminate waste. Way to go, asshead.

Why am I being so cynical? Because these people are playing by the rules, preaching “unity” and “change” to each other like they’re handjob-crazy, and following a format that is not as impacting in L.A. as it is in NYC, because the peeps in Wall Street are on the SIDEWALKS where the MONEY IS, not confined to the legal constraints of a grassy area shaded by trees. Go where the money is, morons. Occupy Beverly Hills! Occupy Irvine! Or better yet, occupy YOURSELVES. In the past 20 years, I’ve been to protests/rallies for gay rights, immigrant rights, worker rights and indigenous rights. As Americans have bought more into daily comforts, the urgency of civil matters has greatly decreased. In Los Angeles, it’s been ten-fold. I remember going to a No on Prop 8 rally a few years back (in West Hollywood, natch), and I was so consumed with rage at the issues at hand that I wanted to throw a brick through a window. My friend asked me “Why are you so angry?”, as George Takei addressed the thousands of cheering masses from the podium. Why, indeed.

All that said, I’m definitely for the underdog; the underdog who does, and not says. And yes, I know I didn’t actually throw a brick through a window that one time. Frankly, I didn’t want to end up getting arrested and putting my partner and family through a worrying hell.

Call me chicken shit. But at least I didn’t claim to be a revolutionary.

Hi everyone,

It’s been quite a chunka chunka time since I’ve posted on the Tumblr. I’ve been mad fuck busy, and I just need to be totes better about getting on here and letting y’all know of the fun stuff I’ve been tongue-deep in. :-)

Tomorrow (Sunday, October 9), I am staging something very special at Barnsdall Park in L.A. From 2pm to 4pm, dozens of performers will be lying face down on the ground, playin’ possum, representing important figures in the history of L.A. performance art, from the late 70’s to early 80’s. Among them: the Asco collective, Ron Athey, Rozz Williams, Johanna Went and The Bags.

I’ve been working on this baby for 2 years (no joke), and it’s all finally happening tomorrow! If you’re in L.A., it would mean soooo much to us if you could make it! Admission is free, and I guarantee it will be unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

Also, it’s called Athco, Or The Renaissance of F*ggot Tree.

Here is our Facebook invite.

Here is our official website.

And, of course, there is sooooo much more lovely stuff coming soon. Stay tuned.

Much love XOXOXOXO

Dorian