This article first appeared in the St. Louis Beacon, April 4, 2011 - To participate in the March 25 "audio adventure" launching from Washington University's Danforth Campus, I had to forget all of my grandparents' warnings against trusting strangers. I had to, in fact, trust someone determined to sound as strange as possible, with a voice digitally disguised in what one of my companions described as "Darth Vader's" dulcet tones.
I knew my limits -- no murder, no skydiving, and no "Friday" by Rebecca Black -- but as soon as I cleared space for the three audio tracks on my iPod Nano, I had mentally committed to following almost any other instructions issued by this strangest of strangers, the self-styled "Twain."
As a confessed YouTube junkie, I had seen footage of such viral sensations as the seventh annual "MP3 Experiment" organized by the New York comedy group "Improv Everywhere," in which a huge crowd of headphone-wearing participants high fived strangers on the street, wrapped one another in toilet paper, and sang an out of key rendition of "Happy Birthday" to a cupcake-eating man named Steve. I knew about flash mobs and I had heard of people running events from birthday parties to political protests using non-conventional social media networks.
YouTube junkie or not, however, I had no idea of what to expect from this promised hour's journey "wrapping around the historic 8th and Pine intersection in downtown St. Louis." And as I watched the group of 25 or so Wash U students make awkward conversation at the meeting place, no one -- not even the camera-wielding editors of the campus creative community's blog, Kuumba.tv -- seemed to know what an "interactive audio adventure" entailed, either ("Wait, were we supposed to bring toilet paper?"). They had been contacted through an anonymous email address and told only that there should be something to film.
As our cell phone clocks counted down to the appointed 3:30 starting time, I found myself trying to figure out why, exactly, I was going outside on the cold, wet day, and furthermore, why, exactly, it seemed like a good idea. But my friends were doing it, and if they jump off a bridge, what can I do but follow? When the moment came, I looked around for a signal. Finding none, someone suggested that we launch a countdown ourselves; in order to push "play" at the same moment.
And so it began. Twain opened with a wisely timed "congratulations for being 'awesome'," priming me to stay with his next line of reasoning: "You never know until you try." This sounded true. Plus, there is definitely dignity protection in numbers -- another truth that emerged as we all danced to MC Hammer's "Can't Touch This."
So follow I did, literally skipping down the ramp of the Big Bend MetroLink station to the Disney's Peter Pan classic "Following the Leader." We spread out along the platform, and listened to the sometimes irreverent, sometimes serious, and always exacting instructions through our respective headphones ("The train will arrive at 4:40. Enter through the doors, wait until everyone is seated, and push play again."). It didn't take long for our tour guide to reveal the objective of the adventure. In fact, hidden identity aside, Twain wasn't much for subtlety in either name or purpose: We were on board to "see St. Louis."
"For real though, this is what I would like to tell you. It's easy to learn facts and figures about a place. Things like Wikipedia are astonishingly easy to use. A city's pulse is in its stories. You will hear some on this audio adventure. These are small steps leading you to the city's heartbeat. And wouldn't it be great if you could go out and create your own stories?"
As he settled into a more serious tone, I realized this was no improvised birthday party -- this audio adventure was less about creating a spectacle for onlookers to watch, and more about engaging participants with the city. He narrated pieces of St. Louis history, from the 1904 World's Fair to the Olympic games to the race riots in East St. Louis in 1917 to the Arch construction in 1967, "one of the great engineering feats of its time."
We were told to get off at the 8th and Pine Metro station, where we continued to follow a precise set of instructions about where to go and where to look, when to cross the street and how to walk across it. We found ourselves across from the Arcade Building, which Twain described as "a dazzling predecessor to the modern day shopping mall." The didactic style made it more of a guided walking tour. At moments, it even felt like one of those guided audio tours in a museum -- albeit one with a definite agenda.
"Did you know that 1 in 5 St. Louis addresses is vacant?" he asked. "Do you think it is possible to find new uses for vacant spaces such as the Arcade building?
This is not to say that we did not create mass confusion as we waved, danced and skipped around in perfect unison. On the contrary, I received more than one sidelong glance as I held a bag of apples "Simba-style" over my head in the downtown Culinaria grocery store.
And, as I jumped from wet rock to wet rock at the City Garden, trying hard not to slip, I couldn't help but laugh at my companions dancing to "Shake your Tailfeather" ahead of me.
Nor could I help appreciating the fact that it was raining, and the park was relatively empty -- especially when the soundtrack transitioned into "Everybody Dougie."
Though we stayed pretty much together, there were definitely a few problems with such a sustained audio adventure: people occasionally fell a few seconds behind or ran a few seconds ahead. But at the end, we regrouped completely standing in the middle of a giant triangular sculpture called, we were told, "Serra Sculpture," named after the artist who created it, Richard Serra. The actual name of this sculpture is 'Twain.' Welcome. I have been waiting for you."
We looked at one another, waiting for someone in the group to step forward and claim responsibility. It didn't happen. We clapped anyway, and headed -- pretty much in unison -- back onto the streets of St. Louis.
A week later I still haven't found a way to explain what, exactly, an audio adventure is. Honestly, I'm not sure it translates into words -- there's a reason I learned about them through video, and I would imagine that the Kuumba.tv video released Friday will inspire more such mysterious group journeys. As Jessica Spraos, a Kuumba.tv editors said: "There's something, you know, exciting about the trusting this process and trusting the voice at the other end to lead you somewhere good."
Ariana Tobin, a senior at Washington University, is a Beacon intern.