Ebony & Ermine from Albuquerque, New Mexico performs tonight at Titwrench fest 9, going on stage 8 p.m. at The Mercury Café. The duo represents the collaboration between Ebony Isis Booth and Marya Errin Jones. Booth, a former Denverite, is a renowned slam poet and once member of the all female Wu-Tang cover band Lady Wu-Tang. Jones runs the performance space Tannex in Albuquerque but may be known to previous attendees of Titwrench for her turns as Mariner Variations as well as her contributions to the performance art collective Milch De La Máquina. Jones also organizes the Albuquerque ‘Zine Fest and Booth puts on the annual Burque Noir event. I recently had a chance to ask Jones some questions about her background and inspirations.
Tom Murphy: How did you discover and become involved in a kind of underground and experimental music and art world in Albuquerque ? Was there an experience or group of friends that brought you into it et. al.?
Marya Jones: I have been an experimental theatre artist for more than a decade, and a musician since a child. I was trained in physical theatre, and have, with few exceptions, devised most of my own performances. As far as experimental music is concerned, I started working with Milch de la Machina (created by Marisa Demarco and Monica Demarco) several years ago, which lead me to making experimental, electronic music. I also run a performance space in Albuquerque called The Tannex. For four years I have produced music events and other performances that exist outside the bounds of conventional performing arts.
Were there people (individuals or groups) that mentored you as a musician/artist in ABQ? Who were they and how important were they to your development, what did it help you to realize about your own creative work, if so? If not, what sorts of things did you do to foster your own creative vision and work?
I’m inspired in some way be everything that I see. As much as I enjoy watching local artists and groups, what fosters my creative vision and work is my own inner life – my dreams, and memories of the past.
You’ve performed at Titwrench before as part of Milch De La Maquina and as Mariner Variations. What inspired Mariner Variations, a clear nod, in part anyway, to seafaring adventures and sea shanties for someone living in a place fairly far from the ocean and large bodies of water? What about that sort of thing do you think held such a fascination for you?
The Mariner Variations was born from my love affair with the writer and adventurer Robert Louis Stevenson, whom I consider a mentor and distant friend, as strange as that may sound. I don’t think it’s unusual at all to be in love with water and the sea. I wasn’t born in the desert – I can here. I grew up in Georgia and Florida, lived in California and New England. And, lived in the womb for 9 months! Who doesn’t carry the ocean in their soul?
Milch De La Maquina is always a highlight of Titwrench. What do you think an art project like that is aimed at affecting for both the people involved in creating it/performing in it and the people who get to experience it that aren’t directly involved even if they are involved in the experience of the performance? What do you hope people get out of it? What do you get out of doing that past the time of the performance as they don’t seem to be designed to be repeated or captured for posterity in a way that would ever translate well to anyone that isn’t there?
This will be my first Milch experiment. After attending the first Titwrench, and seeing the dress piece I was thrilled by the idea of creating sound and art – which is something I’d wanted to work on for a while. At that time, I was dipping my toes in the waters of experimental sound, primary via the voice. After building speakers and creating a piece with pedals, I started building my own performative sound projects.
I don’t know that the purpose of all art is that it exist forever. We plan, we rehearse, we practice, we experiment, but Milch de la Machina performances are born very much out of how we are feeling in the month, at the time, in the hour. I think it’s power to create that way. It opens up new avenues for creation. I honestly don’t think in terms of what someone will get out of a performance. I think about giving my all to a performance, being present, and creating space for those who witness the work to daydream. What I “get out of it,” is the experience of working in ensemble and using the experience as a springboard for new ideas.