https://www.spielart.org/global-angst/its-a-stake-strike
As the grand finale of GLOBAL ANGST, Anna McCarthy stages a radical abstract opera to tame the world?s fears. By igniting the global Angst wicker man with a closing ceremony that manifests new shapes from the fire, symbolically countering its initially destructive nature and often ritualistic affiliations to bigotry (be it witch hunts, book burning or the Ku Klux Klan), Anna McCarthy reclaims it as an element for replenishment and rebirth. In a theatrical and musical rendition, she takes on the persona of Lucy Strike to call out the wicker man to honour current and past victims of bigotry, including Bavarian teenager Anneliese Michel who, in the 1970’s, due to her epilepsy, underwent 67 exorcisms initiated by her parents together with the Catholic Church, as well as nods to theatrical political actions such as W.I.T.C.H. (“Women Interested in Toppling Consumer Holidays”) or the 1967 Exorcism of the Pentagon “Out demons, out!”

https://www.spielart.org/global-angst/its-a-stake-strike

Idee | Text / Voice: Anna McCarthy Music: Manuela Rzytki w/ Susanne Beck, Antenne Danger, Charlotte Huber, Luzi Illustrella, Veronica Katta, Lily Nicklaß, Paulina Nolte, Anton Kaun a.k.a. Rumpeln, Paul Pongratz, Andreas Pöschl & Köşk-Choir. Wicker Man: Jörg Besser

SCHEITERHAUFENSTREIK – Anna McCarthy –  GLOBAL ANGST LIVE MIX1 311021 – SPIELART FESTIVAL

Der Gesang der Vegetarier, Erich Mühsam (1905) zur Melodie 'Immer langsam voran' in der Version von DAMENKAPELLE für:

Demonstration zur Beerdigung des Krieges – Möge er in Frieden Ruhen von Anna McCarthy im Rahmen von "Die Neuvermessung Europas 1914/2014" des Kulturreferats München http://annamccarthy.de/heutenachmittag.html
vom Marienplatz zum Zenith-Gelände Freimann
31. März 2014
13 Uhr Marienplatz
Schlusskundgebung 17 Uhr Zenith-Gelände

Besucher sind aufgefordert mitzumarschieren!

Die Bayerischen Geschützwerke Freimann/Krupp (heutiges Zenith-Gelände) waren während des 1. Weltkriegs der größte Rüstungsbetrieb in München. Deren Belegschaft war die erste, die in München zum politischen Streik und am 31. Januar 1918 zu einer Demonstration in die Innenstadt aufrief. Schlussendlich führten die Arbeiterstreiks zur Räterepublik in München – angeführt von Dichtern und Künstlern. Die Kunstperformance nimmt dieses historische Ereignis in einer abstrakten Inszenierung mit Bezug zur Jetztzeit zum Thema. Auf einem hochdekorierten Umzugswagen spielen u.a. die Münchner DAMENKAPELLE, Tagar, Manuela Rzytki, Federico Sanchez, Sebastian Kellig und Mitglieder der schottischen Band Franz Ferdinand Arbeiter- und Antikriegslieder u.a. mit Texten von Erich Mühsam und Hugo Ball. Der Umzugswagen zieht durch die Stadt und erzählt rückwärts eine Collage der Ereignisse vor, während und nach dem 1.Weltkrieg durch die Sicht des Künstlers. Eine friedliche Demonstration gegen den Krieg – damals und heute.

Der Gesang der Vegetarier – DAMENKAPELLE

2014
text: anna mccarthy 
music: tagar
made for SHELTERS, SHACKS, AND SHANTIES
http://galeriedonatz.de/en/exhibitions/past/anna-mccarthy-shelters-shacks-and-shanties-opening-september-12-2014-6-9-pm


Dear Volcanoe,

Cancel my flights if you think it's worthwhile. Don't speak to me when you look at that gummy stump. Torrential tearing emits from your upper crust and all I can do is think of my cheese sandwich. Freeway, aquapur, siempre, fairglobe. I have seen documentaries, they're  the worst, like lake victoria stops me buying fish fingers in LIDL. Würli says he can't watch them anymore, it makes him puke. Let's all puke together, mushroom pies and quiches, fill the world up with grey vomit till we drown in it and shit. Mushroom day so far away, if there were another way. To get her out – I'd do it. If this is made of plastic I will eat my hat. Let's bet. I can't pay though. It's a second death I meant. Plants have feelings too but you still eat those. But guacamole is good today. It makes me happy to look into the green and rub the leftover pip along my lip. Clouds clouds go away, come again some other day, put the ringer on silent today. The arrows are definitely more precise nowadays, they may look alike but the other one is much more modest. Which is witch ? No hair. Red hair. Bride mystics. A weep in the birch with a white silver fox slinking around your ankles like a frog, pre-middle-age giggles, tongues lash at another, coiled around the other, whilst others fuck in the corner. They love to touch the tips covered in cheese and to put paper bags over their heads, hiding your ugly mug, you cheap jack-shit piece-of-nothing. I can see you in the mirror, you know I can."Tiger-lily luhau bruha", I tell you, leaning up against that tree. Don't need to wait for much longer little one, the shitstorm's a-brewing out yonder. Ships on stormy seas, lights blink at your wedding, whilst the pig burns and animal hangs on to all four corners of the tent. The water is churning and all the young girls are yearning. Summer so far, no fur, how lucky they are. Arrows turned, your eyes are now stuck like that, you crosseyed contender. Hot ash swirls in your black matte exhaust fumes, burn baby sunburns, take off your string tanga, feel the hot glowing ash fall on to your metal back. Tramp stamp. The serpent's got a hold on you, jumped you from atop a tree. The grasshopper landed on you during world football. She's not crossing no boarders, ebola checkpoint is too tough tonight and your temporary white baby passport has expired. Split me in two and send me through without shoes, why don't you ? If you don't go mad, I will. Feel the petals on my elbow. Do not lean out. Keep calm in case of shutdown. Hear the scream outside my window, hear you fall and your bones smash to chicken pieces. I collect them and put 'em in plastic bags and them behind blinds and flower bouquets. Ring-a-ding the dead. Auf wiedersehen. Ah stop burning now, stop burning now. And others that just died, I prophecied, just clamp metal teeth to cablecar wires and sail carefree down to valley. Kan a kiss be evil ?  Whatever's next. Just move around the edges is what I apply. If I get you a fresh stack of potatoes what will I get in return ? Hoard, stockpile, squirrel your toilet paper and hang crows upside down to scare off the others. Bahamas made up of bones. Bones, bones are good for your heart, teabags and teabells all wrapped up in daisies, covered in cream – these are a few of my favourite things. Freckles and sunburns on soft flesh skin, carve out the freckles with help from your elders – these are a few of my favourite things.  Keys to the city, keys to the country, hang the key to the universe around eight necks, one covered in silver, the others in gold, only one can be the lucky one – these are a few of my favourite things. Can't get that fucking earworm out of my head... Can't think, need to move, need fresh air, get it out.  Run little one run run run, rid your skin of burns from apples made of metal. I'm infected like all the others, falling down down down into the carpal tunnel o-o-o-of l-o-o-o-ove. Let me masturbate to that tune, make the eruption feel real. Dingle dangle in the breeze. Bow down bardarbunga, bow down to the goddess of nature and cheap products, suck on her dried eggs and souvenirs, drive up her motorway nose and take the aeroplane ticket going somewhere. What would you take with you on a desert island and what does that say about you ? I hope everybody dies. I hope you die. Make the sun stand still. Make the sun a blood red one and black ash clouds sweep over the lake like 1783. A fourteen year-old wrote me a log and told me all about it: "It's a a self-fulfilling prophecy", she said. Paperclip to safety pin. Let me go, let me fall and mount the four horses. I'll straddle 'em, I say, between my two meaty thighs and hang my belly low, drawn and sixteenthed on dragstrip to a tattoo on the nape of my neck and a selfie of me. In hot stinking pools of sulphur the gold will begin to rust, where legs are half shaven and armpits waxed, the red will rub off on my skin and the crackle nailpolish will not leave my keratin. Horns, nails, claws and hooves covered in it forevermore. I put on the TV and what do I see – naked and afraids have hurt their feet and knee. This reality bites and "We're not ready", Mr Norman presumes. Split me in two why don't you, let's make him seek and hide – "I'd rather be in heaven than it be like this". Put your sunglasses on and look up. Keep your eye on the sky. The day came and it was like no other. The girl with the two coloured eyes and velvety skin was there and said: "Good morning, what shall we have for breakfast – cream cheese and puff pastry ?"
So that's that, I suppose, I will make do.
See you soon and please do not forget to R.S.V.P.

Yours sincerely,

AMc

+

Tagar-ian harmonic tremors.




Dear Volcanoe,

https://www.muenchner-kammerspiele.de/en/programm/30730-the-hills-have-crazy-eyes
THE HILLS HAVE CRAZY EYES - Woman in a Landscape – Munich kammerspiele 2024
“The Hills Have Crazy Eyes - Woman in a Landscape” deals with violence against women and mountaineering told through the history of alpinism and nature perception. Violence against women is addressed in a sentient search for new strategies of coping and healing.

The mountain as a symbol of aggression has become porous; the glaciers are melting and the rocks are crumbling. Summit fixation has become superfluous. A renaissance in the perception of nature occurs, told through a group of melting figures that have immersed themselves, been overgrown, and thus are able to communicate with the mountain as a living organism.

2024

THE HILLS HAVE CRAZY EYES - Woman in a Landscape 15th of may 2024 @ Münchner Kammerspiele

Voices & Lyrics: Anna McCarthy
Noise & Beats: Rumpeln
Label: Save the CD-R

LAVENDER BUSH

PEOPLE HOUND ME

PERFORMANCE AT THE OPENING OF "DAS HAT SICH DOCH GELOHNT" AT LAB BIELEFELD
TEXT & VOICES: ANNA MCCARTHY & ANDREW GILBERT
MUSIC: TAGAR
CHOIR: EAT IT, SANKT ANGER, GABI BLUM

Anna McCarthy

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