By Gili Malinsky
By Bob Ruggiero
By Hilary Hughes
By Peter Gerstenzang
By David R. Adler
By Devon Maloney
By Brian McManus
By Jessica Hopper
Back to rehearsal. I am standing in front of a mirror flanked by red curtains while three girls turn elaborate circles around me. Most of the group doesn't think the band will continue to be a regular thing after the Knitting Factory show, and I'm wondering why anyone would care that some kids had started some other band that would come and go and be seen by only a few, and heard by only a fraction more. Why spend time and energy on this band, this quintessential first band, with all its quintessential lumps and awkwardness and impermanence? When there isn't even a clear audience for what they do?
A week later, I ask Eastburn the same questionshe answers that the experience can be empowering even if few people are around to see it. "As they're growing up, as they're graduating high school, and as they're deciding what to do, it's like, 'Man, we have so little time, and we have to fucking scramble and fucking work our asses off and fucking do nightmarish shit just to get by,'" she explains. "All I know is that the time I've learned how to ownto just notice things and write songs about it and not go out and see peoplethat's what I'm trying to get across. It's about validating that impulse."
She looks away. "This is yours. Own it."
The viBe organization will begin another round of programs in the fall. Interested girls should e-mail us@viBeTheater.org" for more information and an application.