First Friday

People are everywhere! The streets are crawling with people, far too many for the sidewalks to hold. Everyone’s attention span is so weak. It seems every step there is something new drawing them in, far different from what they last saw. Never before have I seen such a vast assembly of odd and interesting things.
First Friday is called an art walk, but it's more like an an art festival. It's held every first Friday of the month in Downtown Phoenix. For four blocks, the streets are lined with booths. The booths hold paintings, jewelry and every kind of art imaginable. No one booth is alike; each is just as different as its creator. The old bungalow houses that own these streets have been converted into art galleries by their live-in residents. For a few nights a month, these galleries are filled with one of a kind pieces of art.
As you walk down the street, it’s hard not to be interrupted by a seemingly random performance. Four teenagers doing spoken word poetry in trance a small group of people, just as a man playing a violin draws in a few people to hear his instrument. These are small crowds compared to the tip-toeing people huddled around some of these acts.
It reminds me of a schoolyard fight. Everyone is crowded around, jockeying for position. All I can see are the backs of people and bobbing heads, each trying to get a better look. I hear the boom and bass of hip-hop music coming from the center of one of these circles, so I decide to approach. Standing on my toes, I crane my neck to see what everyone is so enthralled by. There in the center is a teenage boy dancing. The dance is very different from what I was expecting, not at all like the dances from the movies of late. It’s as if these dancers were frozen in the 1980’s and were awoken just for this event. The teenager is dancing with a rhythm and style that is not familiar to me and makes me smile at its awkwardness. He dances on his feet like there’s a strobe light above him, concealing some of his movements. Then, he hits the ground and spins like a top, only to pop back up and dance some more. There are several of these dancers, each taking turns showing off their best moves in the center of the circle. The crowd seems to be enjoying it, and as the dancers do something very difficult, I hear “ooh”s from the crowd.
While walking down the street, I see another one of these masses. These people were gathered tightly around one little stage. This stage held a performance that was vastly different from the break dancing. There is a banner above the stage that reads: “Strange Family Circus”. The man on stage is a short Caucasian man, but he has darkness about him. His small curled mustache and red and black striped clothing reminds me of someone evil. He introduces himself and his wife and children who will be helping him with his act. He starts by uncovering a pile of broken glass on the back of the stage. Then, after getting the crowd pumped up, he places the microphone in the glass. The crowd cringes as he places his first foot in the glass with a crunch. Then, the other, crunch. As if that was not enough, he stands on his chair and jumps, hurling his feet into the broken glass with a sickening sound. The crowd was filled with looks of shock and pain. The performer steps out of the glass and tells about the last time he did this act. About how he got cut so bad, he had to shove flesh back inside his foot. Sounds of disgust come from the crowd at his graphic story. He lifts up his feet, exposing the bottoms are cut free and the crowd cheers in excitement. For his next trick, he takes out a metal fan. This fan looks old, it has big, metal blades and no safety cover. To prove the sharpness of the blades, the devious man takes a raw carrot and puts it to the fan, sending pieces of carrot flying into the audience. I’m now really worried and curious about what he intends to do with this object. He explains his plan, he will put his tongue on the spinning fan blades and hopefully, it won’t send pieces shooting out into the audience. He turns on the fan again and while holding the microphone close, places his tongue on the blades. You can hear the fast thuds of his tongue making contact, but there is no blood to be seen and his act was a success.
I will never be surprised at anything I see here. From physical art to performance art, I’m now prepared for anything. I come here almost every month and only the location stays the same. There are so many different things going on, all entertaining in some way. So, if you find yourself in Downtown Phoenix during the first Friday of the month, I suggest checking out First Fridays.