Set Me Free

Seeing Patti Smith live at the Vic recently was one of those precious rare moments I've had in my life where I've stood mere feet away from my object of obsession and all I could think was there's no way this is real. There was no way this mirage and dream has materialized and I am, in fact, bumping and swaying along with hundreds of other people completely taken away by a surreal sense of freedom in what became a very cramped place.

There have been plenty of shows, bands, records and nights that got my heart pumping. They were dedicated to sweating and singing along, maybe the senses dulled a bit from drinking and smoking, but with piercing enthusiasm that nothing but mortal exhaustion at closing time could dampen. The difference, though, was simple- those bands were setting the tone, guiding us through whichever explosive or melancholy landscape they've dreamt up. We were all free to dance and sing or resign ourselves to passive foot-tapping, but it was always in response to what was happening before us. The responsibility of action or reaction was lifted from our shoulders, and in turn and we were presented with a pre-determined emotional state.

The problem with Patti is that she seems to feel everything all at once, embracing both sides of the coin and reminding us that having both the good and bad to experience is the real gift. Having any experience at all is the straw and your job is to spin it to gold. What are you doing with these moments, each minute, small as they may be? It's one thing to react to the stimuli around you, but what are you throwing back? If you aren't constructing the world around you, who are you within it?

I'd gone to the show alone, refusing to let anyone that wasn't experiencing the same Patti heart palpitations sully my experience and eager to be selfish with my emotional indulgence. I figured the best person to understand why I was in near-tears during Kimberly or Free Money (or virtually any other song) would be me, so why not save any potential date the embarrassment of just not getting it? And I'm glad I did. With her constant reminders, nudging and urging us to action, that we're free it would have felt cheap to need someone there beside me to experience this. Her songs dedicated to artists, everyone in the audience, Amy Winehouse of all people, and especially writers.. anyone who struggles to get the right words out... brought out a response in me that few other shows have. Yes, there was singing and dancing and chanting, but it was less about the physical response as much as the lingering side effects of her words. It wasn't about what she wanted to bring out in us. It was about seeing what we wanted to do with ourselves. "This is what I see. This is what is out in the world. Do you feel this, too? What are you going to do about it?" Her entire performance mirrored my favorite line from the very last song of the night, a line I loved at sixteen years of age without knowing who first penned it, but felt it in all my adolescent discontent- Do you like the world around you? Are you ready to behave?

The entire experience changed the way I think about the role we play as a spectator, audience member, or witness to what happens around us. Going to the show to watch Patti Smith was a passive act; going alone held more intent. It involved me becoming a vessel for someone elses emotion and a harbinger of my own, placing responsibility and, ultimately, freedom back where it belongs. Her openness and insistence in putting the heart into action is what floods me with a sense of duty to create, to self-censor less and close my eyes more during the process. Vigilance should be left for making sure things are done rather than done the right way, and I owe my renewed sense of responsibility to this woman.