by JOHNSON CUMMINS

I’m sitting with Mikey Heppner and Dan Watchorn of Priestess at a local vegetarian eatery/pottery-making studio. This time around, though, the two aren’t looking for ink on their upcoming North American tour with Converge and Mastodon, or their soon-to-be-recorded follow-up to Hello Master. No, they want to talk about something far deeper—their spoken word/Mummenschanz-style dance performance tonight, Jan. 11, at Barfly (commencing once the Habs/Flyers game is taken off the tube).

Heppner and Watchorn’s band may be known chiefly as one of Montreal’s heaviest volume dealers, but tonight, the pair will shed the ballast and brawn for the tender, poetic missives of Heppner and the sinewy interpretative dance of Watchorn. Even while we are sitting down, their traditional rocker uniforms of black t-shirts and jeans have also been shed, with Heppner dressing in traditional African garb, oversized novelty sunglasses and Peruvian pillbox hat, while Watchorn is completely encased in a black spandex body stocking, with a stained burlap sack obscuring half his face (though a monocle peeks through), his long mane done up in cornrows and a bubble wand jiggling between his teeth.

While Heppner picks at his bowl of sliced radishes, he admits that his muscular metal role in Priestess has somewhat stifled his more tender side. “I’m sure a lot of people just associate me with being the rock ’n’ roll, testosterone-tinged stud muffin that they see on stage and in videos, or maybe hear during CHOM’s Drive at Five, but my art can also come from deeper places. It’s those deep recesses of my heart and soul that I reserve for my performance pieces.”

Heppner then tents his fingers, closes his eyes and begins rattling off the varied influences that helped mould his spoken word performances, such as ’60s performance artists Living Theater, Yoko Ono’s scream therapy, Carrot Top, Gallagher and other prop comedians, Ron Reusch, John Cage, Maya Angelou and Doug Henning—to name a few.

The usually boisterous Watchorn has been relatively quiet during our interview, seemingly putting all of his energy into his bubble wand, until finally he begins making a series of ticking and gurgling noises. Just as I begin performing a Heimlich manoeuvre, Heppner informs me that in preparation for his performance, Watchorn has taken a leave from the use of traditional language, preferring to invent his own tongue in an effort to maintain the purity of his message.

Although Watchorn has already performed some impromptu pieces, such as his interpretation of the dance of the seven veils, at various sports-bar wing nights and St-Hubert restaurants around town, Heppner has only performed in front of his 10 cats thus far. However, he promises that tonight’s performance should not be missed.

“Between the second and third periods of the hockey game,” he says, “I will be performing feng shui in the room, which I think will really change the playing field a little bit, and open the Habs fans up to the poetry of the heart.”

“Gorble click zzaabbattt click plop,” offers Watchorn, before flicking his bubble wand one last time as we all stop and watch the biggest bubble we have ever seen burst.

YES, I’M DRUNK… jonathan.cummins@gmail.com

>> Music Listings