The police didn’t show up until 10PM.
Apparently, you need a permit to have a live band play in your driveway in Somerville.
By 10, though, there were just remnants of the evening’s earlier event :: a pot of chilly spaghetti, some make-shift benches, and–the only thing to suggest that a brass band had been dancing and jiving in the driveway of 339R Summer Street just an hour and a half before–a bass drum, meant to be worn over the shoulders, bearing the words, “Second Line Social Aid and Pleasure Society Brass Band” (SLSAPS).

We were wrapping-up the first evening in a series of dinner theater events hosted by sprout in a small carriage house just outside of Davis Square in Somerville. The events aimed to bring people together around good food, good music, and good performance in an informal, social setting. What we’re after is a low-pressure venue for local artists to share their work in a community context, and our first dinner started us moving in that direction.
The event began with delicious spaghetti, Italian bread, and drinks, and even though the day aggressively threatened rain, we ate and talked all night in the the growing dark. Steam rose from the spaghetti, as the air grew more crisp, and the brass band SLSAPS opened the night with a set of upbeat tunes while people finished up their dinner and talked. We followed the band inside to see a beautiful cantastoria about the many and beautiful meanings of the sound, “HONK!” in honor of the HONK! festival coming up on October 9-11 in Davis Square.

Inside, the public workshop and lab housed at 339R Summer Street had been transformed into a performance space. A rag-tag collection of seats–ranging from wooden-plank bleachers to couches to office chairs–sat the 45 attendees and focused our collective attention on a performance space carved out of the former machine shop, framed by the larger and less mobile of the machine tools strung with orange, holiday lights.

After the cantastoria, a puppet show called Mr. Right Flag, a passion by Penelope Hillfrau, brought marionettes, hand puppets, and other objects to life, asking audience members to provide some of the soundtrack for the piece.

The final performance was a comedic monologue by John Malpede, the founder of the LA Poverty Department, called Bill Me Later, which proved an incisive and hysterical look at credit card debt.

Attendance at the event was modest, peaking at 45 people, including performers.
We spent about $170 between food, drink, and disposables and brought in $250, which means we were able to entirely cover costs and then offer our two solo performers a $40 stipend each for sharing their work. We hope to continue our spaghetti dinners as a self-financing experiment in how to build a temporary, small-scale performance venue.
The next dinner will be held on Thursday, 15 October in the same little carriage house at 339R Summer St.
As the series develops and gains traction, we hope to curate each month’s performances around a given theme (October’s will be education-themed :: The Little Red School House). Then, we’ll use that theme as a focal point, bringing together a set of performers who approach the theme from different perspectives, whether artistic or professional, activist or scientific.
I’m excited and curious to explore what it looks like to “perform information” in more than the gestural way that science or technology are often “performed” now. What does it look like for mechanical objects to become full-fledged characters in a story? Is it possible to “perform data” without distorting the complexity of the scientific phenomena from which that data derive? How can theater inform the medium of traditional lecture?
While the primary goal of the dinners will remain the creation of high-quality, variety-show style performances, I hope for the dinners to serve as a means for exploring this intersection between theater and information, seeing where it leads.