Photograph by Jessica Flores

Dancing room only in Experimental Theater

There are so many musical venues on the gargantuan campus of UC San Diego, it’s hard to pick a favorite for catching a memorable show. My first concert at UCSD was an astonishing performance by British guitarist John McLaughlin, leading an all-Indian ensemble known as Shakti, back in 1977 at the Main Gym. That one still resonates.

Did I mention that the campus is huge? So huge, in fact, that I’ve gotten lost more than once searching for a venue, such as the time I missed an Art Ensemble of Chicago performance back in the 1980s at the Che Café. Since then, I’ve become a regular visitor, and I rarely get lost anymore — especially since they opened the Conrad Prebys Music Center in May of 2009, directly across from the Gilman Parking Structure.

On March 3, an unseasonably cold Friday night, I was lucky enough to hitch a ride with new music champion Bonnie Wright. We both share an aversion to being late, so after our early arrival, we killed a little time by wandering down the long center hallway, checking out the photo portraits of notable faculty and former students.

Back outside, we ran into Jessica Flores, the Production Manager of the Music Department, who was setting up the table in front of the smoked glass doors to the Experimental Theater. We were here to check out a production by the polymath UC assistant professor King Britt. Britt arrived here four years ago, and I’ve heard nothing but accolades for his class Blacktronika: Afrofuturism in Electronic Music. His career includes being the original DJ for the Digable Planets, and collaborations with everyone from De La Soul to Meredith Monk and Tyshawn Sorey.

Ms. Flores let us know up front that we were about to enter a drastically retooled Experimental Theater. They had retracted the familiar bleacher-style seating to convert the entire footprint into a dance floor. Apparently, neither Wright nor I had heard about this. I struggled to pull my paper ticket out of my pocket and, sure enough, it read: Blacktronika: Club Experience Pop Up. I hadn’t been to anything organized around dancing since attending my girlfriend’s Senior Prom in a previous life, and my dance moves remain lame enough to make Donald Trump look like Savion Glover. Still, I was excited to check out Britt’s concept in action — as a listener.

We were still quite early, but the queue behind us had grown to more than 100. At somewhere around 7, the young woman manning the door at the end of a long dark corridor motioned for us to enter. She held the door open, and we could hear the music playing long before we got inside. Once we arrived, we found it very dark, save for the glow emanating from the copious electronic gear piled high on Britt’s DJ table and the manic swirling polka dots that careened around the room from the impossibly high ceiling and down across every square inch of the dance floor. Ten steps in and the lights started messing with my depth perception. I felt my legs getting rubbery. I momentarily feared I might be on the verge of one of those “acid-flashbacks” they used to warn us about. But we made it to the far side of the room, where I found a solid wall to lean on while I acclimated to the lights.

The music was layered and rhythmically propulsive, and seemed to evolve on its own timetable. Early on, Britt took the microphone and requested, “No lights, no flash. Let’s keep it sexy.” Or at least I think he said that. I tried to concentrate on how he was making music on all of these machines, but I was a fish out of water. People kept streaming in, and eventually, 250 folks had gathered. The dance floor filled up. About an hour in, my back started screaming (I have three fractured vertebrae due to a fall from a rooftop during my carpenter apprentice years). We slipped outside, and I resolved to attend more Britt productions in the future, especially the ones that involved sitting down.