Mz. Chief

Maybe they were in awe of all those books
Flash mob - Dozens of people appear outside Powell's, freeze for a few minutes,
and then leave
Sunday, February 24, 2008
STEVE WOODWARD
The Oregonian

Dozens of people mobbed the intersection of West Burnside and 10th Avenue on Saturday afternoon.

And did nothing.

They didn't riot. They didn't block traffic. They didn't yell angry epithets.

They simply froze in place for five minutes, creating much confusion among the unfrozen.

The Samuel Beckett-like drama was classic guerrilla theater, Portland's contribution to a nationwide effort Saturday to wreak a few moments of quiet non-havoc through performance art.

For the uninitiated, this type of spontaneous event is known as a flash mob. The mob -- often strangers -- gathers at a designated time, drawn by announcements via the Internet. At a prearranged moment, the participants simultaneously perform some bizarre action, then just as suddenly disperse into the crowd.

Cities where people came to a halt Saturday included Boston, Dallas and San Diego.

Portland has seen pantsless flash mobs appear on MAX trains. Best Buy has been invaded by crowds of customers dressed exactly like store employees. And New York's Grand Central Station has found itself in suspended animation when a flash mob froze in place.

Saturday's so-called Portland Freeze was masterminded by a woman who calls herself Mz. Chief. (Get it? Mischief?)

A half hour before the freeze, she stood on a bench in the North Park Blocks and reminded the 100-plus crowd that the event was to be a spectacle -- and to watch their valuables in case pickpockets tried to take advantage of the moment. Participants were told to set their first cell phone alarm to 3:15 p.m. for the start of the freeze and 3:20 p.m. for the end.

At exactly 3:15 p.m., non-pandemonium broke out at West Burnside and 10th.

As many as 200 people's forward motion came to an abrupt halt in front of Powell's City of Books and the other three corners of the intersection. A guitarist froze in mid-chord. A couple froze in mid-kiss. Another couple froze pointing up at the sculpture across the streets from Powell's. People froze in mid-conversation, mid-stroll, mid-waiting-for-the-bus.

At exactly 3:20 p.m., life suddenly resumed as though nothing had happened.

And to tell the truth, nothing had.