David Nixon (the meaning of life not pictured)
Occasionally, you come across a piece of art that can be enjoyed even without knowing exactly where it’s headed. For me, that kind of gratification–art for art’s sake–can be found in the writing of Marquez, Murakami, and Borges, Meirelles’ City of God, and every single episode of Arrested Development. The Annex’s new solo show by David Nixon–philosophy professor, actor, musician, artistic polymath, and member of absurdist art pop theater band “Awesome”–Center-Cut Ham Dinner Night Slide Show (Tuesdays and Wednesdays at 8 p.m. through Nov. 17th), doesn’t quite reach those artistic heights, but it aims high and delivers non-stop ruminative delights, all while making comedy out of the big questions.
Take it from a doctor of philosophy: the topic at hand is nothing less that the Meaning of Life. Is it the ability to take simple pleasure in even the smallest of moments, like a cat? Can it be found in hard work, nature, family, or religion? What about the pursuit of sex, creativity, happiness, intellectualism, and/or money? The answer, of course, is yes and no to all of the above, especially since no matter what you do, or how you find your own individual meaning, you’re still going to end up dead. (Spoiler alert.)
Nixon pursues these ideas through a mixture of monologues, pre-recorded music, cartoons, digital animation, and physical humor. The show’s sharp and sly nature reveals itself in the details, like the homage to the Slog (the Slög). It’s clear that Nixon is always thinking, and even parts of the performance that look sloppy are actually well-coordinated and choreographed to a T. The whole piece just moves, and by the time it starts to feel like it’s running long, it’s over. Such is life.
Center-Cut Ham Dinner Night Slide Show is the smartest one-man show in approximately forever. Nixon keeps it light while playing with heavy topics, the result of which is an oddly moving work. It’s funny, sad, and above all true, which is pretty much the highest compliment I can give. In its eighty-three minutes, you probably won’t discover the meaning of life–as if there were one neat and tidy answer for all of mankind–but if a performance piece gives you a moment of bliss and challenges your sense of self, then it’s done its job. Ultimately, is the meaning of life attainable in the long run, or is it just an elusive and ephemeral state of mind? Yes. Perhaps it is, perhaps it just is.
