Mr. Dr. Scott Carnz's post about his solo from Michael

I showed up at the house right at 7. A beautiful woman opened the door, and I asked if Michael was there. I had, of course, Googled him to find out what I could. Pictures on Facebook were what I tapped into early.
Completing that questionnaire was tough without a face to write to; trying to convey to an unknown individual enough about myself that they could create a piece of art just for me was daunting. I didn't want my answers to be glib, or cute. I wanted them to reflect something important about me that was worthy of the honor of this experience. OK, what I submitted was a little sound-bitey, but through my exchanges with Michael I felt confident he had something workable. Part of what was intriguing to me about the process was to guess where he was headed based on the follow-up questions he had asked. I still wasn't sure whether this would a portrait, a commentary, or an abstraction. So I arrived with a few assumptions and a lot of questions, but wholly open to whatever would unfold.

We were directed to the basement where a band was set up and wine was waiting. I made small talk with folks while we waited for the solo to start, some of them seemed to know who I was, others didn't. I only revealed it if they asked.

Michael took the stage, and what began was a glorious five-song-set rock performance complete with original songs, cover tunes, audience banter, (four) costume changes and some wild stage dancing. Now, I had said I like big personality and big drama, and that's exactly what I got! Over the duration of the set, I found myself slipping in and out of listening to the lyrics to find myself in them, listening to them objectively as an abstraction about someone else, and just listening and getting lost in the show. It was, at moments, biography, commentary, conversation and interpretive reflection. The interjection of lyrics into the process was not something I had considered and brought an entirely new dimension to the solo. He's singing about superconductors! Hearing my own words spoken and sung back brought a personal immediacy to the piece that I had not expected.

This whole process of making art for specific people was so intriguing to me. The idea of being "for" someone and "about" someone raised so many questions in my mind. As I listened to these songs pouring forth, singing and dancing in my corner of the basement, I wondered if this was what subjects of a Robyn Hitchcock or Cake song felt like, or the subject of any song for that matter. It felt very personal and somewhat revealing about me, but without knowing me or that it was about me, would anyone care? If no one knows that "You're So Vain" is about you, you can revel in the mystery and curiosity like everyone else. And if no one knows, are you really so vain? I felt simultaneously exposed and anonymous—a curious and exhilarating dichotomy to be sure!

The next night was Art Walk and I saw Michael dance at SAM. It was so interesting to see him move in the manner I had expected him to at my solo, in the medium I had assumed would abstract me out of the work to a degree as to be unrecognizable. I am so thrilled that my assumptions had been challenged and that I was given the gift of these questions about identity and art, the merging of the two and who the hell is Mr. Dr. Scott Carnz anyway—all great fodder for a guy with a degree in epistemology.

What an incredible experience this was/is. I am still processing all my thoughts and questions. I feel certain I'll have to sit with this for a while to fully absorb it. Thank you Michael and thank you Lingo. Thank you KT.

Mr. Dr. signing out.