Indeed, I never had.
Last week I went to see “Kitchen” by Gob Squad, and I came away shocked, amazed, elevated and completely shattered. At one point I realized what is going happen, and thought to myself “wow, this is ingenious.” But I had no idea.
I had no idea how powerful it all will be, that it will be so much more than a really smart way to deconstruct the idea of theater and performance, involve the audience and re-stage a pop culture classic. And so, in the end I was sitting there, dumbstruck and blown away.
This is what Norman Mailer said about Warhol’s movie:
“I think Warhol’s films are historical documents. One hundred years from now they will look at Kitchen and see that incredibly cramped little set, which was indeed a kitchen; maybe it was eight feet wide, maybe it was six feet wide. It was photographed from a middle distance in a long, low medium shot, so it looked even narrower than that. You can see nothing but the kitchen table, the refrigerator, the stove, and the actors. The refrigerator hummed and droned on the sound track. Edie had the sniffles. She had a dreadful cold. She had one of those colds you get spending the long winter in a cold-water flat. The dialogue was dull and bounced off the enamel and plastic surfaces. It was a horror to watch. It captured the essence of every boring, dead day one’s ever had in a city, a time when everything is imbued with the odor of damp washcloths and old drains. I suspect that a hundred years from now people will look at Kitchen and say, ‘Yes, that is the way it was in the late Fifties, early Sixties in America. That’s why they had the war in Vietnam. That’s why the rivers were getting polluted. That’s why there was typological glut. That’s why the horror came down. That’s why the plague was on its way.’ Kitchen shows that better than any other work of that time.”
And by the end of the play, I realized that Warhol had ultimately failed to achieve what he set out to do.
And I realized, that Gob Squad had succeeded.