Synopsis |
A copy of my writing along with others' reports and photos are available at http://burning.detritus.net/.
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For those of you unfamiliar with Burning Man, I will attempt to describe the phenomenon. After its initial spontaneous birth on a beach somewhere, Burning Man mutated into an experiment in temporary community. The idea, as I understand it, is to provide a location for people to gather. A catalyst to foster a creative community. For the past seven or so years, this location has been an open playa in the Nevada desert.
The surroundings are beautiful, stark, hot, and harsh. On a impossibly flat, hard bed of cracked dust, Burning Man takes place. The organizers provide only a road system (marked off tracks), portable toilets, and the various legal requirements that are necessary and/or painfully required by the state or county (fire brigades, emergency crews, etc.). There is a fee for entry, and some order imposed in certain aspects (leave no trash, no cruising in cars around the camp).
Outside of this infastructure, the participants creativity is the only guiding force. There are some long-held traditions that take place, such as a fashion show, pirate radio stations, and a daily newspaper. It is a weird art installation in the form of a living, breathing city, known as Black Rock City.
Costumes, nudity, elaborate "camps", and bikes are the norm. This year, these were sprinkled around the huge crescent-shape of the city. Perhaps three miles from end to end (3? someone help me. anyone?), with a circular main "downtown" in the center, the arc wrapped around (and was surrounded by) the open playa, focusing on the Man himself, waiting to be burned on the last day, as well as other (burnable) art installations in this section of the playa.
Let's take a look at some of the discouraging factors. I don't care to get into the beaurocratic problems (problems with the county, internal squabbles, money issues), because this is the personal perspective of a participant. I also don't claim that this (or my remarks on The Good) is comprehensive or complete. Just observations, folks.
Burning Man is bigger every year. I have heard that there were 15,000 people attending, but don't quote me on that. When will or has it reached "too big"? I don't care. However, this year's bigger crowd, and greater media coverage brought in not only a larger number of people, but a larger percentage of non-participating people. By "non-participating", I mean people who came only to look, gawk, or "take" -- not give back to, or participate in, the community. While not entirely "bad", these people (especially representing a larger percentage of the population), take away from the communal feel and offer nothing back to the rest of us who put a lot of time in planning at least some kind of camp or costume or performance. In the worst cases, there are the "beercans", the locals, the peddlers, and other types who come only for a few days to exploit some aspect of the community by selling things, mocking people, or wandering around staring at naked women while getting stupid drunk in the hot day sun.
I suppose these types of people always existed at Burning Man, but their presence was a little too apparent for me this year. I found myself more than once cursing a loser on a all-terrain vehicle zooming across the playa spitting out smoke and kicking up dust. And I very nearly lost my temper as some fat, hairy redneck made a rude comment in my presence immediately after a naked, body-painted young woman passed by. And I can't count the number of times scrubby old men snapped photos of naked or topless females. All very discouraging.
I was disappointed, too, in the trash left behind. Granted, it was far less than you would have seen at, say, a carnival that had 15,000 people attending. However, the idea is to leave nothing behind -- to respect nature and make certain this really is a temporary installation. The organizers beg you to pack up your trash right down to the cigarette butts and fire ash. Many of the art camps and "participating" people could be seen pedantically bagging up trash or confronting someone who just casually dropped a beer can. But, especially after "the burn", there was still quite a wake of rubbish left behind. Certainly not a pristine playa, anyway. In my eyes, the volunteer clean-up crews (who stay behind for up to a week or more!) are some of the true saints of Burning Man.
I walked away with far more good vibes than bad, don't get me wrong. In fact, if I started getting sappy, this section would ramble on way, way too long.
The number one thing that sticks with me about Burning Man were the people. Such a large percentage of the attendants seem to have something to offer, even if it was just a visual thrill. Decorated bikes, insanely elaborate tents and camps, body paint and costumes, zines and stickers handed out by the score, food and precious water. It was all there, in the middle of the hot desert, trucked in for the sole purpose of sharing with others.
Although some places sold things (boo-hiss to the losers at the Chai Tea tent who didn't get a cent of mine!), there were many places which gave away everything from showers to mud baths, rides to food, music to information, and on and on -- far more than those who charged a fee.
Allow me to list some examples which stuck in my mind: Camp Carp who routinely gave away free (and delicious) fish tacos and beer (if you knew the secret word!); the anarchist bike shop, which provided tools and parts to fix your bike or assemble one from scratch (what great art bikes were built!); all the independent (non-commercial) media sources that popped up, including four (by my count) radio stations and a couple newspapers; Bianca's Smut Shack, who gave away more food and fun than I suspect ever has been by a Burning Man camp -- I shall look at Bianca in detail below, it had such a great effect on me.
And I cannot forget the individuals who made Black Rock City so different from any other city on the planet by smiling, waving, saying hello, complimenting, or otherwise positively interacting with me on an individual basis. And cheers to those with the spritzer bottles who more than once chose to make me the target of a drive-by spritzing!
I wish to focus a bit on one camp in particular: Bianca's Smut Shack. Don't let the name fool you, this is not some kind of pornographic outpost, although there were magazines lying here and there (for effect!) and even more of the real thing once it got into the wee hours!
Bianca is about community. What started several years ago as a web site, rapidly grew into a collection of crazy people, starving for the chance to be part of something. A community. Perfect fodder for Burning Man. (Not to mention other projects, such as the 1997 Bianca World Tour which brought the same community, dancing, and fun to a city near you. Yes, "brought", sorry.)
On the surface level, Bianca's Smut Shack, in its Burning Man incarnation, gave ample shade and several couches and beds and a very groovy atmosphere. And, they dished out great music, and all sorts of quick-fix food and alcohol. And all for free.
"There is no such thing as a free lunch" could not be further from the truth at the Shack. "Bianca loves you", and it shows. All they ask in return is that you have a good time, and you will be told this if you come looking for "the catch".
I know a bit about Bianca because I have known one of her 'trolls' (workers/coordinators/slaves) for many years, and, I also volunteered at the Burning Man camp. This is volunteering that is more fun than participating at many of the other camps. I would have never imagined myself being thrilled to stand over a hot griddle and cook grilled cheese -- let alone, be so in love with the idea that I would come back to do it four nights in a row, usually for the "shift" from midnight until dawn. And, you know what? I miss it like crazy.
Why? The people. First, the Bianca trolls. They loved the idea that we would help them and didn't hold back showing it. No one "forgot" to say thank you. We were loved .. from the very inside of Bianca. Second, "The People" -- the folks who walked through the tent opening into the sprawling rooms. Never could I imagine a more cool and thankful crowd. Beautiful people, in beautiful moods, beautiful garb, and looking for a beautiful time. And finding it. They would thank us all endlessly, going on to offer help and donations. And would say these things with a sincerity that extended beyond the usual society-triggered "thanks for the food".
Oh, sure, not everyone was this ideal. There were a lot of silent people, many whose smile said enough for everyone working, I believe. And, yes, we would get the occasionally loser who would make a sour face when we hadn't given them a "big enough" glass of free vodka (!).
What Bianca boiled down to was its own real-world experiment in community. And, in my opinion, it paid off. As the last couple nights approached and food supplies ran low, we started suggesting, only to those who asked how they could help, that people bring any extra bread or other needed food or water, if they had extra. By the last full day we had a wish list posted, and the supplies were pouring in. Granted, a large part of this was because the event was winding down and many people realized they had over-stocked their food. But the point still stands that they made the effort to donate it. To give back. And, a great many gave whether they thought they needed it or not. Multiple bottles of alcohol, crates of beer, jugs of water, and on, and on. I personally witnessed someone ride their bike to the extreme other end of Black Rock City to retrieve a single loaf of bread they thought they could do without, at 3:00 AM, no less.
Burning Man may be well on its way to the inevitable extinction that comes with getting too big (or publicized, expensive, dangerous) for your britches. However, there is no doubt that positive lessons are to be learned and a great deal of fun is to be had.
I have been purposefully keeping two separate lines of thought about my experience at Burning Man: one which remembers with giddy delight (or tries to!) every amazing person I met and every crazy, cool thing I got to be part of; the other which tries to walk away from the playa looking at what I observed and "learned", and trying to apply it to the future. This little rant is about the latter. (For a condensed version of the former, see my stream-of-consciousness spew about the fun and crazy stuff.)
Numerous times, from numerous people, including Steev and Mykle, I heard something to the affect of "Why can't things be like this all the time?" Why can't they? For obvious reasons, the level of madness and expression found at Burning Man can not be all that we as a community do. But why can't we incorporate more -- nay, some of it?
As an example, obviously a real-world Bianca's Smut Shack would last about a week. It doesn't take much thought to see that the out-of-pocket expense the good trolls coughed up (perhaps thousands of dollars?) to Make The People Happy for less than a week isn't the kind of thing you can sustain for very long.
However, we did witness an interactive and supportive community. One which volunteered time, energy, work, and goods. Perhaps, by carefully targetting who is involved and creating the right atmosphere, someday we could be making near-free grilled cheese sandwiches for a bunch of dancing patrons in a small club/cafe somewhere. No, not "patrons" -- community members, friends.
Thank you to every single person I smiled with, touched, held eye contact with, spoke to, heard speaking, or otherwise gave or took something from me at Burning Man 1997. Special thanks to Bianca for filling the air with the good kind of smut and making the grooviest, yummiest, coolest pile of conduit, curtains, and couches on the playa. Big hugs to all the members of Safety Camp and anyone who was ever in Bianca's back yard to watch a sunrise with me.