The concert is fucking EXCELLENT. Yoko is amazing, energy spraying off her body into the crowd. This woman is sixty-three and she’s unbelievable. She and Sean do Mind Train, originally recorded in the late 60s, Sean trilling Yoko-style. Playwright David Fraser and his brother are there. His brother pushes to the front of the stage to hand flowers to Yoko. He loves her.
After several encores, Yoko takes her final bow, harsh lights snap on, and sweaty bodies disperse into the night. As I am leaving, I hear a familiar voice. Musician/Singer/Much Music VJ Sook-Yin Lee is shouting: Jean Yoon, Yoko wants to meet you! I rush backstage, shake Yoko’s hand, explain a bit about the show, point to the package and flowers sitting there on her table. Yoko says: I had no idea someone was writing a play about me! Sook-Yin is beaming. I am speechless and lamely ask Yoko if she’ll sign my copy of Grapefruit.
July 1996: I join the ONONET, an internet discussion group. I find a cabal of serious fans all over the world, many of whom came long distances to attend the same concert. We copy clippings, dub videos, pass material to each other. We talk about everything: her music, the significance of the gradual lightening of her sunglasses over the last decade, new exhibits coming up in Britian, an ONONETTER’s Ph.D. Thesis on ‘Cut Piece’, obscure references in rock histories. I discover that Richard Joly, the number one collector and Yoko enthusiast in North America, lives in Montreal. Musician Andrew Zealley, formerly of Shadowy Men from a Shadow Planet, is another Toronto Yoko fan. I am not alone. February 1999: Still no word. I am in despair. The script has gone through more revisions. Grants are impossible to secure without permission from Yoko and I am convinced that without concrete production details, it will be impossible to get a response. Layne Coleman enthuses about the script. Together TPM and I send a joint package, letter requesting some kind of answer by March 15. On March 12, I call New York and explain again that at this point no response will be taken as a no and that of all the good reasons I can think of this show not going forward, Yoko not seeing the script is not one of them. I weep on the phone. It’s embarrassing.The next day I get a call from Yoko’s closest friend and advisor. He apologizes, asks for another copy of the script. Two days later he calls saying he’s read the script and that he and Yoko have no objections.
Holy shit.
Yoko said yes.
She said yes.
Yes.
The artist and woman whom I most admire, a woman whose courage, innovation, vision, and risk-taking music I have appreciated from afar, said yes. I talk with Yoko’s advisor at length, but keep the original message on my machine. So I am sure I haven’t dreamt it. The Yoko Ono Project is a go. From this point on, it’s all about the show. About making Art from Art. About presenting the raucous voices of Asian Canadian women, about celebrating the Mother of Loud Mouth Asian Babes everywhere.
Oh sure, you can tell me now you don’t know much about Yoko, that you don’t think much of her music, that you think she’s interesting but... Well, imagine this. Imagine a pair of sunglasses. Put them on. When you wear them you see things, colors, people you’ve never seen before. You think things you’ve never thought before. Walk down the street. Read all the signs. Come see The Yoko Ono Project.
Previews: January 11-12, 2000
Shows: January
13-February 6, 2000