Homeland Security was a performance created in 2004 from the diverse cultural communities in Portland, Maine and artist Marty Pottenger.
Pottenger is a performance artist and director who has extensive experience in community based art practices. In Engaging Performance: Theatre As Call And Response, Jan Cohen-Cruz documents the development of Homeland Security and the methods of Pottenger in its creation.
In 2004, with the enforcement of the American Patriot Act, raids were performed through Portland, Maine with intentions to uncover terrorist activity much to the subjugation of the ethnically marginalized communities in Maine.
In response to this, Pottenger took an approach of "first voice" performance.
"The notion of 'first voice' contrasts with much radical theatre of the 1960s and early 1970s, which , while a viable form of political activism frequently entailed middle-class actors speaking for the poor and oppressed. In contrast, Pottenger and other grassroots artists incorporate storytelling to facilitate a process whereby people with stakes in the topic respond publicly for themselves." (Cohen-Cruz 68)
As exemplified in the video link above, what was presented were the "real" people of Maine, telling their stories directly to the community, to each other, and broadcast to anyone who can now find them on youtube or elsewhere.
My immediate question is how does this change or redefine these people who are now "actors" in their own story. In some ways, this literal transplanting of people and their lives onto a stage provides a genuine telling of experiences. The beauty of this performance is that the actors (beyond needing to make sure that they are hear/understood) don't need to "act." They instinctively understand the back story, and have the lived experiences to impact their physicality on stage.
The challenge is navigating through their experiences (especially traumatic ones) to facilitate an expression of work that has positive results as opposed to damaging ones. This speaks to questions of risk and disclosure.
Many of the participants in HLS experienced first hand the experiences of the raids, much like my earlier post about Urban Theatre, it changes the context of the performance when your actors and audience members were all present for the real events that inspire the performance.
In this case- the risk comes when the oppressed feel the acute surveillance of the government. To then publicly, on video, and online show this resistance... some might argue that it risks incurring further retribution from the government.
On a completely personal aside, I would suggest that the US, even Canada present themselves as the lands of the free and liberal, but in reality this is not the case. The only difference is that in many other countries, the government does not hide their extreme censorship. And the connection I make here is that many immigrants (the majority of the people raided in HLS) come from countries where they left for this very reason.
Cohen-Cruz later cites Dwight Conquergood in his assertion that "marginalized people need spaces for 'public discussion' of vital issues central to their communities... Self representation frequently contrasts with mainstream images, such as those of dangerous aliens propagated by the Border Patrol raids." (Cohen-Cruz 74)
Beyond the risk and dangers, which I unfortunately feel that I've perhaps dwelled too much on these last few posts, I need to highlight the power and empowerment of these performances.
Cohen-Cruz later recounts her own experience witnessing the performance. She is able to recount the performers and their deeply personal stories. One community member shared how her father was the first African-American to serve in the State of Maine, and even after being in Maine for 9 generations, she still did not feel like a "Mainer." (Cohen-Cruz 78) The power of this testimony is that it voices out loud a need in the community. For those who care, it means that they were not doing enough to build community, and this went beyond the acts of the Border Raids. In some ways, the Raids provided an opportunity to openly discuss some of these cultural differences and challenges facing the greater community.
In my work, I think this is the ultimate goal- to take calculated risks that push and challenge all of the artists (including myself) to an end where we produce work that encourages questions in a healthy way. What does healthy mean? It means one where people are able to feel safe in their vulnerability, and be able to voice questions and concerns without fear of retribution or recourse because they are asked from a place of sincere yearning to improve and not destroy.
I read this reading over a year ago, and it didn't make sense to me then. It's finally starting to make some sense to me now. I think I'm beginning to understand who I am, and what these labels of Queer, Asian, Male represent to me and how I can act as a conduit for other voices to be heard. Firstly, I have to use my voice- correction- I WANT to use my voice and story to start that conversation. This is not meant to be all hugs and butterflies, or a lovein of my work. I sincerely mean that I need to better understand what and why I want to share, so that I can accomplish this and not (instead) drag my family, friends, and people in my life down a path of exhibitionistic/voyeuristic work that doesn't earn the ability to change for the better.
Cohen-Cruz, Jan. "Self Representing: Testimonial Performance" Engaging Performance: Theatre As Call and Response. Routledge, New York. 2010. pp. 68-81.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Our reality is less interesting than the story I will tell & multi-dimensional engagement
Renny Gleeson is a the Global Digital Strategies Director for Wieden+Kennedy. In 2009, he presented a 3 minute lecture for Ted Talks, the video is uploaded above. Though a bit more of a stretch in terms of performance. I came across the video and was taken aback by some key terms that he touches on. I am going to try and expand on them, and more importantly- connect them to my work and the how they fit into socially engaged performance/art.
The beginning of his talk titled, Renny Gleeson on antisocial phone tricks broke down some common social strategies that people use to interact with their personal mobile devices (at the expense of realtime interaction with the physically present people sharing their space). Some of these include the discreet "lean" or "stretch" to the brazen use of devices while driving or the the midst of engaging in personal interactions such as holding hands and kissing.
Gleeson's main argument and hope is that as a society that continually develops and evolves devices to match growing consumer demand, we should ensure that the devices we create work to connect us as opposed to disengage us further.
Key terms that he discusses: culture of availability, multi-dimensional engagement, and internal/external narratives.
As far as a culture of availability goes- it is the expectation of interaction and response and response time. As devices become more intuitive and available, the expectation for response rate dramatically increases among users. This has dramatically impacted the way we communicate today. I often hear of anecdotes from colleagues and professors who observe the absurdity of being expected to respond to student emails at 2-3:00 am on a weekend, and receiving complaints when they don't get responses until Monday. Until the recent decade, theories and research on emotional intelligence (EQ) proposes that as a culture, our youth are losing the ability to empathize and connect with each other. These theories have changed to recognize that we have been conditioned to better read into text messages and brief online messages to form our relationships.
Continuing on the discussion of interaction and perceived relationships, and tying this to everyday performance- multi-dimensional engagement is the act of being connected and engaging in multiple interactions at the same time. So being present in a room and engaging with the people in front of you, while having a different dialogue with various people on your mobile device, and also posting images on Instagram, while managing relationships on Facebook would be an example of this.
And deepening that observation to thinking about how our current and real interactions can be reframed and posted online as an external narrative that we control when we are the authors of our own content, and then managing the same content when it is appropriated by others and public narratives about us are posted without our control.
In all of my recent work- mobile devices have been an integrated/integral part to the performance. My mobile device (an iPhone 4) is used to document my journey, and represents my connection to the world around me, and my communities that I prescribe to, but am removed from. My iPhone 4 also provides my music and media that underscores my experience and archives my memories in song and performances that are heard by myself and my audiences.
For Alien Soiled, Rice, Spitting Too Close my iPad and iPhone 4 were used to create sound/music/media that was incorporated into the show. As a symbol and device I did not want to separate these tools that become part of our identity. My actors used them in Spitting Too Close throughout the piece- partially because of a need to prompting for their lines, but also because they felt significant in our hands.
Through these glowing conduits we connected to the women and men in our lives, indicating the invisible but present scene partners in our stories. I think the "glow" of mobile devices also provide recognizable images to the audience of our experiences and our need to connect, and the act of disconnection when the lights go out.
During rehearsal and in discussion with my actors, the idea that we constantly checked our devices for messages from potential partners and the manifestation of these partners in the rehearsal hall changed the context in which we performed. It created an incredibly strong barrier from being completely present- so as a director and an ensemble, we had to negotiate how we can become present. Do we turn off the phones? Did we have time to practice and train ourselves not to wait with anticipation for the next call or text? Or perhaps we work within it, and with the devices. Though I asked for ringers to be turned off- we established that we wouldn't turn off the devices during performance. It provided an interesting risk and reflected how instrusive these devices are.
I want to explore and articulate this further in my work, and am interest in how I can work with these devices more. I'm still not entirely sure what these can mean or how to best use them in performance.
One question I continually ask is- just because I use personal mobile devices... does that make my work interdisciplinary or intermedia? Which is sometimes often branded and associated with work that does use these. An important question that I have yet to answer from Rice is how we actors interacted with the video or rice pouring on naked bodies on film in front of us during the performance. For me, it represented the people in our minds pouring in and out, intruding on our experience. But this did not read. A future incarnation of this will be to have the videos playing off of mobile devices and projecting them via mini projectors attached to the actors, so that the films will be screened onto other bodies and audiences and screens which I think will build a more engaging interaction and possible read more clearly.
I am not sure I am commenting on how this affects social engagement, as much as I am concerned with recognizing how these devices are in fact a part of who we are and who we build ourselves to be.
Gleeson, Renny. "Renny Gleeson on antisocial phone tricks" Ted Talks. February 2009. Last accessed: April 12, 2013. http://www.ted.com/talks/renny_gleeson_on_antisocial_phone_tricks.html
Art changing and Life changing read: Roundtable with Urban Theatre Project and Collaborators
Urban Theatre is a theatre company based in Australia. They create community engaged works that highlight the lives and stories of members in their communities. Their work can described as testimonial, documentary, and autobiographical performance. In October 2009, Byroni Tresize and Caroline Wake facilitated a roundtable discussion with members of the company and their partners. It is one of the most impactful interviews that I have read and I decided to blog about it.
The approach to this post is going to be slightly different from my recent annotations of other papers and essays. The nature of this publication is recorded dialogue, so I thought it best to discuss like dialogue.
The bulk of the discussion is a probing question and answer period that explores the success and methods of Urban Theatre and how they negotiate the questions of ethics and disclosure with their works. Immediately, in application to my work- Urban Theatre articulates their practice in a way that I have been looking for. Their definitions of personal experience and the reliving of trauma resonates with my process of asking actors, collaborators and even myself for stories and experiences that can be shared in a theatrical way.
For this annotation, I'm going to pull out lengthier quotes/passages and unpack them a bit more in terms of meanings and applications to my practice. The first is a response from Alicia Talbot. Here, she discusses how she frames a process to protect her participants:
“When working with people in crisis we often relate to people in terms of their problems. Rather than engaging people as a pathology, the process of public dialogue and consultation engages with people as experts. There are a number of international theatre companies who use the term “expert” Rimini Protokoll, Quarantine, or Mammalian Diving Reflex. In my practice, the consultants or experts
are asked to respond to the thematic concerns of the work. So, when I was working on this process with young people who were experiencing homelessness in a work called The Cement Garage, the work was about the concept of belonging. Rather than speak about their personal trauma.” Alicia Talbot (Performance Paradigm 5.2 pg 2)
I chose to reference a larger section in the above passage because I feel it contextualizes the most important statement which states that Urban Theatre focused on concepts and issues that frame the creation of work. This creates a space where participants can offer stories and experiences to add to a piece of work as opposed to becoming the product. In the undergraduate class- Community Engaged Art that I was a part of- many of the students entered... and I would say, left with an idea that community based work in some way has to involve the marginalized. On the final presentation day of classes, the majority of the students recounted proposed projects where they would work in high risk communities (sexually abused persons, prisons, at risk youth, etc.) and ask the members of these communities to share their stories through text and video and potentially present them as plays and in various forms of theatre. As the presentations progressed- I could not help but think of this reading and how we could have better framed our presentations to avoid putting ourselves and our participants at risk for further trauma.
“We need to destabilise what we expect from people in trauma. When someone is in crisis, they tell their story to the social worker, then to the mental health worker, and then to someone else and so on, until they have retold their story many times. In essence, they are reliving trauma and crisis, potentially without a sense of containment. When people are consulted instead of interrogated, they are more likely to cooperate and, ideally, collaborate.” Alicia Talbot (Performance Paradigm 5.2 pg 3)
Containment is the key word, and in direct response to my previous paragraph, I want to make sure that my work provides a clear frame and container to allow participants to 1) give whatever they can/want/need to give 2) ensure that what they offer is still turned into quality performance. What I mean by quality performance is that it goes beyond a cathartic retelling of their story to a group of anonymous/familiar faces. I've spoken a great deal on this blog about humour, self deprecation, and victimization in the process of empowerment through comedy.
Hopefully I can avoid sounding trite, when I say that the last thing I want to have happen is for community based art to turn into the stereotype of an after school special.
So how does Urban Theatre accomplish this? Some key thoughts from the article exemplified how they make a point to connect with as many parts of a community as possible when creating work. For instance, if the theatre work involves exploring a conflict within a community, UTP makes a conscious effort to connect with both sides of the argument with the intention of creating a fuller story.
Often times conflicts arise from misunderstanding, and this work, like comedy, can provide a space beyond retribution where through a developed common language and framework of performer and audience- they can discuss sensitive issues that hopefully will foster dialogue and change in their communities.
“What specifically makes us into witnesses, as opposed to watchers, bystanders, spectators or voyeurs in your work? What are the different communities of witness that UTP’s work assembles and how do these co-connect?” Bryoni Tresize
“A very important part of the work is that we feed back to the community. It’s essential to the truth of the work that it goes back to the communities who created it, and those communities are all invited to be present on opening night as VIPs. At one of the school shows I asked how many of the audience were at the Cronulla riots, and most people put up their hand. Performatively speaking, that’s a very interesting moment where the watchers are also the people who have been interviewed for the work, or who have in different ways lived through its context.” Rosalyn Oades (Performance Paradigm 5.2 pg 8)
A beautifully poignant part of the discussion focused on the ideas of being 'witnesses.' in the passage above, Rosalyn Oades articulates how they bring the work back to the communities who produced them. By inviting the members of the communities who were interviewed and recognizing their contributions, and also elevating their status in the context of the performance that night- in a way it validates and affirms their integral role within the project. Without the source material, there is no performance, and through the performance- change can be instigated in a symbiotic relationship of creation and experience.
I recently struggled very much with this concept. In Spitting Too Close, I allowed personal dialogues, conversations, memories to enter my writing. It was the first time that I made a conscious choice to NOT list names or relationships in a specific/identifying way. In past work- I would list/label roles such as father, mother, sister, or relation- to which the audiences would then know/connect the performance with the real people in my family. I did make reference to geographical locations as specific as major highway roads, or monuments, or landscapes. I thought this would be enough to maintain anonymity, while specific enough to locate the work as a device to help audiences "land" the work and be able to connect it to themselves.
As expected- members of my community and people in my life who were part of the conversations and thoughts that I repurposed for the performance- recognized it. Overall there was a sense of pleasure and enjoyment of the show- but there was definitely an awkward and resistance that was present. Had I crossed the line? Had I gone too far? Was it less about publicly identifying them as contributors to my experience? Was it perhaps their own sense of privacy that was violated?
WOULD THEY FEEL SAFE INTERACTING WITH ME AGAIN, OR WOULD THEY BE APPREHENSIVE ABOUT THE POSSIBILITY OF ME COMMODIFYING THE WORK AND TURNING IT INTO PERFORMANCE (ART)?
“At one point, the ending of Stories of Love and Hate was ‘the riots’ - we’d had all these strong stories and characters drawn together by ‘the riots’, so our first instinct was to end with the big, climactic event. But then it became obvious that that wasn’t the right shape for the work and it was really important that the story went beyond that point; that it was also about how to reclaim your dignity after you’ve gone through that sort of trauma. Whereas the media leaves everyone at the moment of crisis, theatre gives us a chance to go beyond that.” Rosalyn Oades (Performance Paradigm 5.2 pg 14)
Some of the text in Spitting Too Close focused on heart break, struggle, and the need for nurturing a relationship. I will admit now that from some times of stress and emotional upset, writing and performing the piece was a part of my healing. I wonder- because I didn't look to my partners and friends to broaden the specific experiences and create a bigger picture, did I 1) do myself an injustice? 2) impede the healing of another person because of my very public testimony of troubles?
To be quite fair- these moments and some of these writings made complete sense for the work and were written for the work. The concepts with Spitting Too Close were to examine the negotiations that men who are artists and men who do not conform to certain standards of masculinity have to make on a personal and social level. From scene to scene exploration, we worked in states of being and perspectives to create visually engaging moments on stage. That said, it would have been stagnant to have characters existing without some purpose or action. So framing the characters in scenes where they exposed themselves as characters but then showcasing how they engaged and navigated through murky relationships and conflicts provided a much more telling experience for everyone in the theatre.
Dealing with gender identity, sexual orientation, and questioning the masculinity of a cast of young men can be as traumatic as working with war survivors or at risk youth. I know that I needed to frame the work around activities and actions to give space for the actors to express in ways that felt true to them and bring integrity to the work.
As mentioned in my previous post on Chutes Incandescentes, in a very intimate moment, one of my actors stated that he had never had relationships like this before. He was referring to playing tag and forming relationships with the other cast members through the activity of running around. What I did not realize was that all of my actors for this show had been through some form of bullying and at some point felt isolated and lonely in their childhoods. Thankfully we created a safe space to openly discuss and process these realizations. So in connection with the last line from the passage above- Spitting Too Close as a theatre piece allowed us as creators and the audience to go beyond what is often presented in the media. It allowed for some healing for my actors, and the discovery of making newer and equally strong relationships with other members of their community.
Tresize, Byroni. Wake, Caroline. "On the Ethics of Non-Disclosure: A Roundtable with Urban Theatre Projects and Collaborators" Performance Paradigm: A Journal of Performance and Contemporary Culture. Issue 5.2. October 2009. Last Accessed: April 12, 2013. http://www.performanceparadigm.net/journal/issue-52/interview/on-the-ethics-of-non-disclosure-a-roundtable-with-urban-theatre-projects-and-collaborators
The approach to this post is going to be slightly different from my recent annotations of other papers and essays. The nature of this publication is recorded dialogue, so I thought it best to discuss like dialogue.
The bulk of the discussion is a probing question and answer period that explores the success and methods of Urban Theatre and how they negotiate the questions of ethics and disclosure with their works. Immediately, in application to my work- Urban Theatre articulates their practice in a way that I have been looking for. Their definitions of personal experience and the reliving of trauma resonates with my process of asking actors, collaborators and even myself for stories and experiences that can be shared in a theatrical way.
For this annotation, I'm going to pull out lengthier quotes/passages and unpack them a bit more in terms of meanings and applications to my practice. The first is a response from Alicia Talbot. Here, she discusses how she frames a process to protect her participants:
“When working with people in crisis we often relate to people in terms of their problems. Rather than engaging people as a pathology, the process of public dialogue and consultation engages with people as experts. There are a number of international theatre companies who use the term “expert” Rimini Protokoll, Quarantine, or Mammalian Diving Reflex. In my practice, the consultants or experts
are asked to respond to the thematic concerns of the work. So, when I was working on this process with young people who were experiencing homelessness in a work called The Cement Garage, the work was about the concept of belonging. Rather than speak about their personal trauma.” Alicia Talbot (Performance Paradigm 5.2 pg 2)
I chose to reference a larger section in the above passage because I feel it contextualizes the most important statement which states that Urban Theatre focused on concepts and issues that frame the creation of work. This creates a space where participants can offer stories and experiences to add to a piece of work as opposed to becoming the product. In the undergraduate class- Community Engaged Art that I was a part of- many of the students entered... and I would say, left with an idea that community based work in some way has to involve the marginalized. On the final presentation day of classes, the majority of the students recounted proposed projects where they would work in high risk communities (sexually abused persons, prisons, at risk youth, etc.) and ask the members of these communities to share their stories through text and video and potentially present them as plays and in various forms of theatre. As the presentations progressed- I could not help but think of this reading and how we could have better framed our presentations to avoid putting ourselves and our participants at risk for further trauma.
“We need to destabilise what we expect from people in trauma. When someone is in crisis, they tell their story to the social worker, then to the mental health worker, and then to someone else and so on, until they have retold their story many times. In essence, they are reliving trauma and crisis, potentially without a sense of containment. When people are consulted instead of interrogated, they are more likely to cooperate and, ideally, collaborate.” Alicia Talbot (Performance Paradigm 5.2 pg 3)
Containment is the key word, and in direct response to my previous paragraph, I want to make sure that my work provides a clear frame and container to allow participants to 1) give whatever they can/want/need to give 2) ensure that what they offer is still turned into quality performance. What I mean by quality performance is that it goes beyond a cathartic retelling of their story to a group of anonymous/familiar faces. I've spoken a great deal on this blog about humour, self deprecation, and victimization in the process of empowerment through comedy.
Hopefully I can avoid sounding trite, when I say that the last thing I want to have happen is for community based art to turn into the stereotype of an after school special.
So how does Urban Theatre accomplish this? Some key thoughts from the article exemplified how they make a point to connect with as many parts of a community as possible when creating work. For instance, if the theatre work involves exploring a conflict within a community, UTP makes a conscious effort to connect with both sides of the argument with the intention of creating a fuller story.
Often times conflicts arise from misunderstanding, and this work, like comedy, can provide a space beyond retribution where through a developed common language and framework of performer and audience- they can discuss sensitive issues that hopefully will foster dialogue and change in their communities.
“What specifically makes us into witnesses, as opposed to watchers, bystanders, spectators or voyeurs in your work? What are the different communities of witness that UTP’s work assembles and how do these co-connect?” Bryoni Tresize
“A very important part of the work is that we feed back to the community. It’s essential to the truth of the work that it goes back to the communities who created it, and those communities are all invited to be present on opening night as VIPs. At one of the school shows I asked how many of the audience were at the Cronulla riots, and most people put up their hand. Performatively speaking, that’s a very interesting moment where the watchers are also the people who have been interviewed for the work, or who have in different ways lived through its context.” Rosalyn Oades (Performance Paradigm 5.2 pg 8)
A beautifully poignant part of the discussion focused on the ideas of being 'witnesses.' in the passage above, Rosalyn Oades articulates how they bring the work back to the communities who produced them. By inviting the members of the communities who were interviewed and recognizing their contributions, and also elevating their status in the context of the performance that night- in a way it validates and affirms their integral role within the project. Without the source material, there is no performance, and through the performance- change can be instigated in a symbiotic relationship of creation and experience.
I recently struggled very much with this concept. In Spitting Too Close, I allowed personal dialogues, conversations, memories to enter my writing. It was the first time that I made a conscious choice to NOT list names or relationships in a specific/identifying way. In past work- I would list/label roles such as father, mother, sister, or relation- to which the audiences would then know/connect the performance with the real people in my family. I did make reference to geographical locations as specific as major highway roads, or monuments, or landscapes. I thought this would be enough to maintain anonymity, while specific enough to locate the work as a device to help audiences "land" the work and be able to connect it to themselves.
As expected- members of my community and people in my life who were part of the conversations and thoughts that I repurposed for the performance- recognized it. Overall there was a sense of pleasure and enjoyment of the show- but there was definitely an awkward and resistance that was present. Had I crossed the line? Had I gone too far? Was it less about publicly identifying them as contributors to my experience? Was it perhaps their own sense of privacy that was violated?
WOULD THEY FEEL SAFE INTERACTING WITH ME AGAIN, OR WOULD THEY BE APPREHENSIVE ABOUT THE POSSIBILITY OF ME COMMODIFYING THE WORK AND TURNING IT INTO PERFORMANCE (ART)?
“At one point, the ending of Stories of Love and Hate was ‘the riots’ - we’d had all these strong stories and characters drawn together by ‘the riots’, so our first instinct was to end with the big, climactic event. But then it became obvious that that wasn’t the right shape for the work and it was really important that the story went beyond that point; that it was also about how to reclaim your dignity after you’ve gone through that sort of trauma. Whereas the media leaves everyone at the moment of crisis, theatre gives us a chance to go beyond that.” Rosalyn Oades (Performance Paradigm 5.2 pg 14)
Some of the text in Spitting Too Close focused on heart break, struggle, and the need for nurturing a relationship. I will admit now that from some times of stress and emotional upset, writing and performing the piece was a part of my healing. I wonder- because I didn't look to my partners and friends to broaden the specific experiences and create a bigger picture, did I 1) do myself an injustice? 2) impede the healing of another person because of my very public testimony of troubles?
To be quite fair- these moments and some of these writings made complete sense for the work and were written for the work. The concepts with Spitting Too Close were to examine the negotiations that men who are artists and men who do not conform to certain standards of masculinity have to make on a personal and social level. From scene to scene exploration, we worked in states of being and perspectives to create visually engaging moments on stage. That said, it would have been stagnant to have characters existing without some purpose or action. So framing the characters in scenes where they exposed themselves as characters but then showcasing how they engaged and navigated through murky relationships and conflicts provided a much more telling experience for everyone in the theatre.
Dealing with gender identity, sexual orientation, and questioning the masculinity of a cast of young men can be as traumatic as working with war survivors or at risk youth. I know that I needed to frame the work around activities and actions to give space for the actors to express in ways that felt true to them and bring integrity to the work.
As mentioned in my previous post on Chutes Incandescentes, in a very intimate moment, one of my actors stated that he had never had relationships like this before. He was referring to playing tag and forming relationships with the other cast members through the activity of running around. What I did not realize was that all of my actors for this show had been through some form of bullying and at some point felt isolated and lonely in their childhoods. Thankfully we created a safe space to openly discuss and process these realizations. So in connection with the last line from the passage above- Spitting Too Close as a theatre piece allowed us as creators and the audience to go beyond what is often presented in the media. It allowed for some healing for my actors, and the discovery of making newer and equally strong relationships with other members of their community.
Tresize, Byroni. Wake, Caroline. "On the Ethics of Non-Disclosure: A Roundtable with Urban Theatre Projects and Collaborators" Performance Paradigm: A Journal of Performance and Contemporary Culture. Issue 5.2. October 2009. Last Accessed: April 12, 2013. http://www.performanceparadigm.net/journal/issue-52/interview/on-the-ethics-of-non-disclosure-a-roundtable-with-urban-theatre-projects-and-collaborators
Joanne Gilbert- Performing Marginality
Humour is a way to voice, confront, overcome, and heal the unspeakable. Humour can equally be used to destroy community and breed a culture of exclusion, hate and oppression. For members of marginalized communities, it is often the former that is used to give themselves and their peers a voice.
In Performing Marginality: Comedy, Identity, and Cultural Critique, Joanne Gilbert breaks down the culture of stand up comedy, specifically for women stand up comediennes. In this essay, she refers to Phyllis Diller and Roseanne Bar, connecting their work to her own, and breaks down different archetypal characters that are assumed while performing various versions of themselves.
Her main argument is that female comedians, as other marginalized groups have key strategies that at first disempowers them by painting them as victims, but that they then find empowerment and liberation from this.
An significant quote from the essay,
"Because they represent a group marginalized by the dominant (male) culture, female comics rhetorically construct and perform their marginality onstage. In so doing, they perform both self and culture, exemplifying for audiences the inevitable interdependence between personal and social identities. Because of the 'us against them' nature of marginal humor (humor performed by any marginal group, e.g., African-American, gay/lesbian, Jewish comics etc.), marginal comics often construct themselves as victims. In so doing, however, they may subvert their own staty by embodying the potential power of powerlessness." (Gilbert 1)
What is significant about this passage is the idea that the powerless can become powerful in their disempowered state. Perhaps more importantly, Gilbert highlights that humour creates a community of oppressed as it seems very much that we exist in a world of "us against them" where marginalized communities are lumped together willingly or otherwise against the dominant male culture. Gilbert follows up this passage by suggesting that from this rhetoric, comedians have a space that is safe to speak in and free from potential retribution from the dominant forces.
Gilbert then breaks down concepts of performing identity in a comical context. Recognizable techniques include self-deprecating humour, as well as performing caricatures and playing up stereotypes of various woman roles. She follows up with an observation that self-deprecating humor is a double-edged sword. Where it is a means of "self defense given socialcultural parameters," it can sometimes be viewed as anti-feminist and feeds the negative views of women. (Gilbert 2)
With Phyllis Diller, and Roseanne Barr, Gilbert then breaks down some of these archetypes. The first as the "Whiner." Over her lengthy career, Phyllis Diller became known for her self depracating humour, costumes, and hair.
Here is an example of one of her more popular jokes:
"When I was born I was so ugly the doctor slapped everybody (laughter). My father asked the doctor: is it a boy or a girl? He said no." (Diller, ABC.net.au interview)
So what did Phyllis Diller do? The nature of her humour was a culture and complaint. Complaining about her fictitious husband and children, breaking down the struggles of life and her station. Though at first it seems incredibly self damaging, and retroactive to the feminist movement, Gilbert in response notes that her speaking these issues out loud "calls cultural values into question by lampooning them." (Gilbert 3)
Here, I would make an argument, with no intention to sound petulant but this sounds awfully a lot like "no publicity is bad publicity." Voicing it out loud, if listeners are not given the context or unable to recognize the humour (which one can never actually be too sure), does it not indeed promote the negative view of women and paint an image of self loathing and low self worth?
This was my first question upon reading the passage, and with refreshing response, Gilbert Quotes Diller from another interview in,
"Of course, I was accused of being self-deprectory. I've got to be... Comedy is tragedy revisited or hostility. It is mock hostility... See, if everything is good, you've got Grace Kelly and that's not funny." (Gilbert 4)
I mentioned this on my post regarding Margaret Cho, who perhaps lives on the angrier side of female comedy. What does it mean to play the victim and how does one overcome this? This brings us to another archetype that Gilbert discusses, the "Bitch" and here she mentions Roseanne Barr. In response to Diller, Barr speaks how she instead of being the butt of her own jokes, she made men the main targets- reaching out from the image of a disgruntled housewife. She "packaged" herself as the "everyman" in a role as a "fat mother and fat neighbour," the character that everyone seemed to know or be familiar with. (Gilbert 4)
Gilbert recognizes the contradiction in this however, that Barr specifically makes references to her weight, voice, and status as a disgruntled housewife (in her act) which falls in line with the victimized position. That said, it was one of the strengths of the Roseanne show, approaching the masses from the position of a Middle American, middle-low income family. The show was a huge success until the characters were elevated from their lowly station by winning the lottery, getting rich, and losing much of the clout that suffering afforded them.
Later in her argument, Gilbert makes an important view of Barr, who self-identifies as a feminist- but does that automatically make her work feminist? (Gilbert 5) It is here that I share questions of authenticity and validity. Does me being a Queer-Asian Artist make my work Queer? Asian? Especially when my work is autobiographical in itself. The obvious answer is yes. The longer answer- is that it doesn't have to be.
I also cited the work of Benny Nemerofsky Ramsay on this blog, and he shares similar sentiments- though several of his works involve the exploration of a feminized male voice (specifically his own), many critics view his work as Queer, and though it can be viewed this way, it does not need to be.
Other important highlights in the essay recognize that "stereotypes are part of the currency of stand-up comedy. Comics constantly type themselves and their targets." (Gilbert 7) This speaks directly to the idea that there are targets, and that someone/something/somehwere is the butt of the joke. In many ways because everyone and every label can be a target, it levels the playing ground and this is what creates a zone of safety from retribution.
The other key points of Gilberts argument further expand on "self-deprecation and subversion" and the concepts of "victims and butts (of jokes)". What I would highlight from here is that the victim and the butt of the jokes are not the same (at least not always). Gilbert explains that this "depends entirely upon audience identification and interpretation." (Gilbert 11) What this says to me is that it reinforces the idea that adjustments are made, or resistance is created to establish power and control in a space of performance.
The best example is my reference to Deanne Smith, an out-lesbian comedian, who starts her sets with jokes about her vagina to 1) let the audience know that the set will be "going there" and 2) she disarms the sometimes socially delicate subject of female genitalia by referring to her vagina as her "vah-jim-jam". In this way, she can either deliver the joke to a room full of out and open lesbians who may identify with her humour and laugh along, or deliver it to a room full of potentially conservative men who need to be given permission to laugh and know what to expect so that they can choose to stay or leave.
How does this apply to my work? Rice was a three man show that explored Queer Asian Identity, specifically targeting the terminology and derogatory image of Queer Asian Men as a Queer subculture. The work was deeply personal, and the feedback was that it was both generous, vulnerable and so very funny. Like stand up, the text we created and the way we framed my story utilized all the techniques Gilbert mentions to create a relationship where the audience leaves learning more about me, and my experiences but hopefully in a way that connects us as opposed to objectifying me further.
I think that's the goal of stand up comedy- laughing at ourselves, each other, to lighten up, and recognize commonalities and realizing that we are all potential targets.
Gilbert, Joanne. "Performing Marginality: Comedy, Identity, and Cultural Critique." Text and Performance Quarterly 17 (1997): 317-330.
In Performing Marginality: Comedy, Identity, and Cultural Critique, Joanne Gilbert breaks down the culture of stand up comedy, specifically for women stand up comediennes. In this essay, she refers to Phyllis Diller and Roseanne Bar, connecting their work to her own, and breaks down different archetypal characters that are assumed while performing various versions of themselves.
Her main argument is that female comedians, as other marginalized groups have key strategies that at first disempowers them by painting them as victims, but that they then find empowerment and liberation from this.
An significant quote from the essay,
"Because they represent a group marginalized by the dominant (male) culture, female comics rhetorically construct and perform their marginality onstage. In so doing, they perform both self and culture, exemplifying for audiences the inevitable interdependence between personal and social identities. Because of the 'us against them' nature of marginal humor (humor performed by any marginal group, e.g., African-American, gay/lesbian, Jewish comics etc.), marginal comics often construct themselves as victims. In so doing, however, they may subvert their own staty by embodying the potential power of powerlessness." (Gilbert 1)
What is significant about this passage is the idea that the powerless can become powerful in their disempowered state. Perhaps more importantly, Gilbert highlights that humour creates a community of oppressed as it seems very much that we exist in a world of "us against them" where marginalized communities are lumped together willingly or otherwise against the dominant male culture. Gilbert follows up this passage by suggesting that from this rhetoric, comedians have a space that is safe to speak in and free from potential retribution from the dominant forces.
Gilbert then breaks down concepts of performing identity in a comical context. Recognizable techniques include self-deprecating humour, as well as performing caricatures and playing up stereotypes of various woman roles. She follows up with an observation that self-deprecating humor is a double-edged sword. Where it is a means of "self defense given socialcultural parameters," it can sometimes be viewed as anti-feminist and feeds the negative views of women. (Gilbert 2)
With Phyllis Diller, and Roseanne Barr, Gilbert then breaks down some of these archetypes. The first as the "Whiner." Over her lengthy career, Phyllis Diller became known for her self depracating humour, costumes, and hair.
Here is an example of one of her more popular jokes:
"When I was born I was so ugly the doctor slapped everybody (laughter). My father asked the doctor: is it a boy or a girl? He said no." (Diller, ABC.net.au interview)
So what did Phyllis Diller do? The nature of her humour was a culture and complaint. Complaining about her fictitious husband and children, breaking down the struggles of life and her station. Though at first it seems incredibly self damaging, and retroactive to the feminist movement, Gilbert in response notes that her speaking these issues out loud "calls cultural values into question by lampooning them." (Gilbert 3)
Here, I would make an argument, with no intention to sound petulant but this sounds awfully a lot like "no publicity is bad publicity." Voicing it out loud, if listeners are not given the context or unable to recognize the humour (which one can never actually be too sure), does it not indeed promote the negative view of women and paint an image of self loathing and low self worth?
This was my first question upon reading the passage, and with refreshing response, Gilbert Quotes Diller from another interview in,
"Of course, I was accused of being self-deprectory. I've got to be... Comedy is tragedy revisited or hostility. It is mock hostility... See, if everything is good, you've got Grace Kelly and that's not funny." (Gilbert 4)
I mentioned this on my post regarding Margaret Cho, who perhaps lives on the angrier side of female comedy. What does it mean to play the victim and how does one overcome this? This brings us to another archetype that Gilbert discusses, the "Bitch" and here she mentions Roseanne Barr. In response to Diller, Barr speaks how she instead of being the butt of her own jokes, she made men the main targets- reaching out from the image of a disgruntled housewife. She "packaged" herself as the "everyman" in a role as a "fat mother and fat neighbour," the character that everyone seemed to know or be familiar with. (Gilbert 4)
Gilbert recognizes the contradiction in this however, that Barr specifically makes references to her weight, voice, and status as a disgruntled housewife (in her act) which falls in line with the victimized position. That said, it was one of the strengths of the Roseanne show, approaching the masses from the position of a Middle American, middle-low income family. The show was a huge success until the characters were elevated from their lowly station by winning the lottery, getting rich, and losing much of the clout that suffering afforded them.
Later in her argument, Gilbert makes an important view of Barr, who self-identifies as a feminist- but does that automatically make her work feminist? (Gilbert 5) It is here that I share questions of authenticity and validity. Does me being a Queer-Asian Artist make my work Queer? Asian? Especially when my work is autobiographical in itself. The obvious answer is yes. The longer answer- is that it doesn't have to be.
I also cited the work of Benny Nemerofsky Ramsay on this blog, and he shares similar sentiments- though several of his works involve the exploration of a feminized male voice (specifically his own), many critics view his work as Queer, and though it can be viewed this way, it does not need to be.
Other important highlights in the essay recognize that "stereotypes are part of the currency of stand-up comedy. Comics constantly type themselves and their targets." (Gilbert 7) This speaks directly to the idea that there are targets, and that someone/something/somehwere is the butt of the joke. In many ways because everyone and every label can be a target, it levels the playing ground and this is what creates a zone of safety from retribution.
The other key points of Gilberts argument further expand on "self-deprecation and subversion" and the concepts of "victims and butts (of jokes)". What I would highlight from here is that the victim and the butt of the jokes are not the same (at least not always). Gilbert explains that this "depends entirely upon audience identification and interpretation." (Gilbert 11) What this says to me is that it reinforces the idea that adjustments are made, or resistance is created to establish power and control in a space of performance.
The best example is my reference to Deanne Smith, an out-lesbian comedian, who starts her sets with jokes about her vagina to 1) let the audience know that the set will be "going there" and 2) she disarms the sometimes socially delicate subject of female genitalia by referring to her vagina as her "vah-jim-jam". In this way, she can either deliver the joke to a room full of out and open lesbians who may identify with her humour and laugh along, or deliver it to a room full of potentially conservative men who need to be given permission to laugh and know what to expect so that they can choose to stay or leave.
How does this apply to my work? Rice was a three man show that explored Queer Asian Identity, specifically targeting the terminology and derogatory image of Queer Asian Men as a Queer subculture. The work was deeply personal, and the feedback was that it was both generous, vulnerable and so very funny. Like stand up, the text we created and the way we framed my story utilized all the techniques Gilbert mentions to create a relationship where the audience leaves learning more about me, and my experiences but hopefully in a way that connects us as opposed to objectifying me further.
I think that's the goal of stand up comedy- laughing at ourselves, each other, to lighten up, and recognize commonalities and realizing that we are all potential targets.
Gilbert, Joanne. "Performing Marginality: Comedy, Identity, and Cultural Critique." Text and Performance Quarterly 17 (1997): 317-330.
Last accessed April 12, 2013:
-Title,
-main
argument
of the writer,
-how
it
relates to your work and questions,
-some
quotes,
-further
reading/definitions
or research you did to help understand it.
Chutes Incandenscentes @ the MAG
Chutes Incandescentes Promo Vid
I was going to write about Sulu from Star Trek, but then I went to see Chutes Incandescentes at the Mackenzie Art Gallery in Regina. I was invited to attend by Traci Foster- an amazing clown, improvisor, and Fitzmaurice practitioner that I want to study with... if I could stop fan-girling around.
I was still not yet panicking about this assignment, and I kept seeing signs and invitations to see the show, so I figured it was meant to be- at the cost of some needed writing time. I feel like a jerk, because my poor professor may have to mark last minute- or may not mark this at all. This shows a lack of consideration on my part, and I am the only one responsible for this.
So in a blustery snow storm, I trekked to the MAG to watch some people dance. I did not know what to expect. I only knew that the work was a collaborative piece between two artists that identified themselves as choreographers, dancers and musicians. A small audience gathered outside the main performance gallery, as we entered, we saw an upright piano with the top removed and a long table that looked like the backing to a grand piano with it's curved back and hard surface.
The dancers entered in sneakers, jeans and tshirts and for the next hour created their own score with every part of the piano, from keys, to strings, to the hard shell of the stands. Using traditional harmonic lines, they paired their songs and text to the real sounds of the space (stomping their feet, dragging the piano and tables, scraping their hands on the floor) in a concert of sound that was matched by their extremely sharp physical motions.
It was beautiful, breathtaking, and I forgot I needed to pee for that solid hour.
The reason I've decided to switch to this performance as an annotation is because it represents inspiration through practice. Let me explain:
1) The piece has evolved and developed over the course of several years- formerly a solo piece, it naturally grew into a duet (artist's own words)
2) The artists use familiar mediums to communicate their story/performance (acting/singing/dancing/playing instruments) but do it in a different way to conventions
3) While performing this abstract piece, they utilize familiar tones, musical characteristics that help make the piece more palpable
4) They incorporate stylized text, written poetry by Rumi, ethnocultural specific images from South East Asia, and their own text to create something unexpected
Much of the information that I will be sharing is from the artist talk back session after the performance.
Several years ago, while travelling through South-East Asia, Benoit Lachambre was told stories from the Ramayana. From then on, he continued to have dreams about the stories, one of which was the vision of a flaming dog that ran through the palace and town setting things alight. At first the image was of destruction and flame, but then the perception came that it could perhaps be a purification.
Through his company, Par B.L.eux, Benoit choreographed what was then a solo performance piece for Clara Furey as part of an installation for a 'Night of Robert Lepage' in Montreal. Over the next several years, the pair would revisit this piece and Lachambre would take some and perform it, Fury would take some aspects and perform it (both as solo performances, exclusive from each other), and then finally coming to the discovery that it could work as a duet.
Lachambre describes the piece as "A singular hymn to the collective subconcious." (program excerpt). The piece is performed in English and French. Throughout the piece, the actors play with proximity to each other, taking turns manipulating each other, and moving the minimalistic set of piano and table. The duet transforms the performers each taking on roles/relationships: narrator-puppet, conductor-musician, lovers, etc. There is an almost invisible transition as the performers transform their characters from humans, to divine beings, to dogs and the piece is marked with jagged physicalities where they walk on the blades of their feet, and continually convulse in time and in contrast to the sounds from the piano.
Methodology-
Some specific/key observations of what they do and the devices they use:
1) The actors work within an essentially empty space with the exception of being framed by a grid of lights and two set pieces: the piano and table, and light props: two Asian masks representing God and demons.
2) They actors are dressed in similar, pedestrian garments (jeans and t's) and sneakers that I think purposefully grounds the characters into a sense of the mundane and real world
3) Instead of set choreography throughout the piece, they instead built upon a vocabulary of actions and stylized movements (walking on the edge for their feet, quick contractions and convulsions in the chest and torso, dragging the piano/table by slapping and sliding their hands across the top and sides of the set pieces)
4) Repetition of action. There were continual motifs of choreography- from how they moved over the piano, to transforming to Rama, or the demon dog, or musicians. With great precision they returned to each image/ transitioned to each character with strong and clear identifiers of what these were
5) THE BIG ONE- Lachambre and Furey spent MONTHS in rehearsal- playing with the piano and different sounds it could make, and MONTHS working together to see how they could communicate/move/build a vocabulary for performance
Inspiration and the Why
"The Absolute works with nothing.
The workshop, the materials
are what does not exist.
Try and be a sheet of paper with nothing on it.
Be a spot of ground where nothing is growing,
where something might be planted,
a seed, possibly, from the Absolute." Rumi
Is a quote/poem that Clara recited during the talk back. She recounted the experience, and some of the inspiration and reasoning behind the work was that for both Lachambre and Furey, it was to create a space of expression where they could collectively interact with the subconscious.
What does that even mean? Bringing in personal narrative through familiar practices (Furey has been playing piano for years and music is deeply rooted in her identity and practice as an artist and dancer), so she wanted to bring that expression to the forefront of storytelling. Offering these skills and ideas/stories of her life through her contributions to the writing, she met Lachambre in a liminal space where he brought his choreography, and dreams, and personal stories of travelling Asia to create a performance.
Chutes Incandescentes represents where dreams, experience and practice meet.
With Spitting Too Close, if I had more time- I expect that the creation process would be similar. The process is about creating a space where artists bring whatever they have to offer and see how a piece can develop. SPC used my personal writings as a through line for the piece- so no matter where the scenes explored, it could connect back to these repeated moments. The actors talked about their experiences, commenting on society and how they connected with it, and through sharing and playing- they brought out dreams, and stories that we enacted out and reframed in a new way.
Perhaps the most powerful moment that I can share is from one rehearsal. A major part of my practice in the process of discovering a character is walking. Through guided meditation and directed action- I lead myself and actors through a space and imagine different possibilities for how we carry our bodies through space. Once we establish a character or body, we begin to interact and see where that takes us.
On this one night, I was able to lead the actors through time, reliving childhood physicalities and projecting into future bodies. As children and youth- it was moving and fascinating how much they touched and interacted in a game of tag, how they became more aggressive and violent in their games as young teens, and how competitive and limited in physical contact they exemplified as teens... and how humorous and misconceived they were about the body of a 30 year old, let alone a 60 year old man.
Through the offerings in their games, we tried playing relationships from close friends, to new friends, to conflicts, to bullying. After the experiment, we debriefed and discussed how difficult it was and how resistant they were to playing bullies. Perhaps the comment of the night, as many of these men faced some sort of bullying as youths, "I never had friends like this before." They were resistant because they didn't want to be the oppressors they faced, and through communal experience (without talking about it prior) they found and discovered commonalities with each other which quickly formed strong bonds in the ensemble.
Through the guided walk, we also played with layers of identity. I will say that I think the cast was perfect, even though I was limited in options. These men were the right fit for this production. That said, the majority of the cast identified as white, heterosexual men, in their early 20's, living in Canada. So in our guided walk, we explored status and power, and deconstructed the possibilities of what it means to be them, and what they present vs. what others see, and some of the challenges faced by those who are not... top of the social foodchain.
The discoveries here were around how everyone faces some social challenge in some way. The achievement in this process was redefining what was unique about these actors and how they also grew beyond identifying markers like age, race, orientation, etc.
Deeply personal were the stories and experiences they shared, and how this connects to Chutes Incandescentes is that they were able to communicate these stories in entertaining and artistic ways. Ways that for them, were as important to their identity as their skin color.
I need to spend more time exploring what it means to use an established practice in performance (i.e. music theatre) and marry that to genuine experiences in story telling without it becoming either cathartic, or satirical- perhaps it can be both, but I need to maintain the honesty within those moments to honour what is shared.
Lachambre, Benoit. Furey, Clara. Chutes Incandenscentes. Mackenzie Art Gallery, Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada. April 11, 2013. Post performance discussion.
I was going to write about Sulu from Star Trek, but then I went to see Chutes Incandescentes at the Mackenzie Art Gallery in Regina. I was invited to attend by Traci Foster- an amazing clown, improvisor, and Fitzmaurice practitioner that I want to study with... if I could stop fan-girling around.
I was still not yet panicking about this assignment, and I kept seeing signs and invitations to see the show, so I figured it was meant to be- at the cost of some needed writing time. I feel like a jerk, because my poor professor may have to mark last minute- or may not mark this at all. This shows a lack of consideration on my part, and I am the only one responsible for this.
So in a blustery snow storm, I trekked to the MAG to watch some people dance. I did not know what to expect. I only knew that the work was a collaborative piece between two artists that identified themselves as choreographers, dancers and musicians. A small audience gathered outside the main performance gallery, as we entered, we saw an upright piano with the top removed and a long table that looked like the backing to a grand piano with it's curved back and hard surface.
The dancers entered in sneakers, jeans and tshirts and for the next hour created their own score with every part of the piano, from keys, to strings, to the hard shell of the stands. Using traditional harmonic lines, they paired their songs and text to the real sounds of the space (stomping their feet, dragging the piano and tables, scraping their hands on the floor) in a concert of sound that was matched by their extremely sharp physical motions.
It was beautiful, breathtaking, and I forgot I needed to pee for that solid hour.
The reason I've decided to switch to this performance as an annotation is because it represents inspiration through practice. Let me explain:
1) The piece has evolved and developed over the course of several years- formerly a solo piece, it naturally grew into a duet (artist's own words)
2) The artists use familiar mediums to communicate their story/performance (acting/singing/dancing/playing instruments) but do it in a different way to conventions
3) While performing this abstract piece, they utilize familiar tones, musical characteristics that help make the piece more palpable
4) They incorporate stylized text, written poetry by Rumi, ethnocultural specific images from South East Asia, and their own text to create something unexpected
Much of the information that I will be sharing is from the artist talk back session after the performance.
Several years ago, while travelling through South-East Asia, Benoit Lachambre was told stories from the Ramayana. From then on, he continued to have dreams about the stories, one of which was the vision of a flaming dog that ran through the palace and town setting things alight. At first the image was of destruction and flame, but then the perception came that it could perhaps be a purification.
Through his company, Par B.L.eux, Benoit choreographed what was then a solo performance piece for Clara Furey as part of an installation for a 'Night of Robert Lepage' in Montreal. Over the next several years, the pair would revisit this piece and Lachambre would take some and perform it, Fury would take some aspects and perform it (both as solo performances, exclusive from each other), and then finally coming to the discovery that it could work as a duet.
Lachambre describes the piece as "A singular hymn to the collective subconcious." (program excerpt). The piece is performed in English and French. Throughout the piece, the actors play with proximity to each other, taking turns manipulating each other, and moving the minimalistic set of piano and table. The duet transforms the performers each taking on roles/relationships: narrator-puppet, conductor-musician, lovers, etc. There is an almost invisible transition as the performers transform their characters from humans, to divine beings, to dogs and the piece is marked with jagged physicalities where they walk on the blades of their feet, and continually convulse in time and in contrast to the sounds from the piano.
Methodology-
Some specific/key observations of what they do and the devices they use:
1) The actors work within an essentially empty space with the exception of being framed by a grid of lights and two set pieces: the piano and table, and light props: two Asian masks representing God and demons.
2) They actors are dressed in similar, pedestrian garments (jeans and t's) and sneakers that I think purposefully grounds the characters into a sense of the mundane and real world
3) Instead of set choreography throughout the piece, they instead built upon a vocabulary of actions and stylized movements (walking on the edge for their feet, quick contractions and convulsions in the chest and torso, dragging the piano/table by slapping and sliding their hands across the top and sides of the set pieces)
4) Repetition of action. There were continual motifs of choreography- from how they moved over the piano, to transforming to Rama, or the demon dog, or musicians. With great precision they returned to each image/ transitioned to each character with strong and clear identifiers of what these were
5) THE BIG ONE- Lachambre and Furey spent MONTHS in rehearsal- playing with the piano and different sounds it could make, and MONTHS working together to see how they could communicate/move/build a vocabulary for performance
Inspiration and the Why
"The Absolute works with nothing.
The workshop, the materials
are what does not exist.
Try and be a sheet of paper with nothing on it.
Be a spot of ground where nothing is growing,
where something might be planted,
a seed, possibly, from the Absolute." Rumi
Is a quote/poem that Clara recited during the talk back. She recounted the experience, and some of the inspiration and reasoning behind the work was that for both Lachambre and Furey, it was to create a space of expression where they could collectively interact with the subconscious.
What does that even mean? Bringing in personal narrative through familiar practices (Furey has been playing piano for years and music is deeply rooted in her identity and practice as an artist and dancer), so she wanted to bring that expression to the forefront of storytelling. Offering these skills and ideas/stories of her life through her contributions to the writing, she met Lachambre in a liminal space where he brought his choreography, and dreams, and personal stories of travelling Asia to create a performance.
Chutes Incandescentes represents where dreams, experience and practice meet.
With Spitting Too Close, if I had more time- I expect that the creation process would be similar. The process is about creating a space where artists bring whatever they have to offer and see how a piece can develop. SPC used my personal writings as a through line for the piece- so no matter where the scenes explored, it could connect back to these repeated moments. The actors talked about their experiences, commenting on society and how they connected with it, and through sharing and playing- they brought out dreams, and stories that we enacted out and reframed in a new way.
Perhaps the most powerful moment that I can share is from one rehearsal. A major part of my practice in the process of discovering a character is walking. Through guided meditation and directed action- I lead myself and actors through a space and imagine different possibilities for how we carry our bodies through space. Once we establish a character or body, we begin to interact and see where that takes us.
On this one night, I was able to lead the actors through time, reliving childhood physicalities and projecting into future bodies. As children and youth- it was moving and fascinating how much they touched and interacted in a game of tag, how they became more aggressive and violent in their games as young teens, and how competitive and limited in physical contact they exemplified as teens... and how humorous and misconceived they were about the body of a 30 year old, let alone a 60 year old man.
Through the offerings in their games, we tried playing relationships from close friends, to new friends, to conflicts, to bullying. After the experiment, we debriefed and discussed how difficult it was and how resistant they were to playing bullies. Perhaps the comment of the night, as many of these men faced some sort of bullying as youths, "I never had friends like this before." They were resistant because they didn't want to be the oppressors they faced, and through communal experience (without talking about it prior) they found and discovered commonalities with each other which quickly formed strong bonds in the ensemble.
Through the guided walk, we also played with layers of identity. I will say that I think the cast was perfect, even though I was limited in options. These men were the right fit for this production. That said, the majority of the cast identified as white, heterosexual men, in their early 20's, living in Canada. So in our guided walk, we explored status and power, and deconstructed the possibilities of what it means to be them, and what they present vs. what others see, and some of the challenges faced by those who are not... top of the social foodchain.
The discoveries here were around how everyone faces some social challenge in some way. The achievement in this process was redefining what was unique about these actors and how they also grew beyond identifying markers like age, race, orientation, etc.
Deeply personal were the stories and experiences they shared, and how this connects to Chutes Incandescentes is that they were able to communicate these stories in entertaining and artistic ways. Ways that for them, were as important to their identity as their skin color.
I need to spend more time exploring what it means to use an established practice in performance (i.e. music theatre) and marry that to genuine experiences in story telling without it becoming either cathartic, or satirical- perhaps it can be both, but I need to maintain the honesty within those moments to honour what is shared.
Lachambre, Benoit. Furey, Clara. Chutes Incandenscentes. Mackenzie Art Gallery, Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada. April 11, 2013. Post performance discussion.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Ma Liuming- same same but different
More than any other artist I'm going to talk about on this blog (to date), Ma Liuming, is an artist that I am struggling with the most. I will be the first to admit that I don't know enough about him. But I've spent time researching, sitting and pondering, and reflecting on how he seems so intimately foreign to me.
The nitty gritty details-
Born in 1968 in Huangshi, Hubei, Ma graduated from the Hubei Academy of Fine Arts in Oil Painting in 1991. He has been identified as an artist, sculptor, and performance artist. After he graduated, he moved to Beijing to be a part of an artist commune, the East Village.
His work is layered and dense with more discoveries to unpack with each viewing of his work. Issues/concepts/thoughts that come up when I reflect on Liuming's work include: gender, masculinity, queerness, communism, resistance, colonization, reclamation/appropriation.
During the 1990's, Ma created several performance pieces that were all connected by a constant practice and style of presenting himself.
The first is Fen Ma Liuming, his alter ego that came into existence in 1993. Fen Ma pushed the boundary of gender identity where Ma painted his face in with full make up with long flowing hair- quite convincingly representing a female face, while he remained unmodified and naked from the neck down as a man.
Methodology:
Fen Ma Liuming would perform what I would refer to as pedestrian action in the nude. He would then document his work via photos which have been displayed across the globe.
In one piece of photo documentation- he is shown taking a shower (nude as most people do) while surrounded by live fish that were hung from wires. This piece was titled Fish Child.
One of his earlier pieces was frying a fish- naked in the courtyard of his communal home.
Perhaps one of his more popular pieces is walking nude along the Great Wall of China. Fen Ma walked along the Great Wall of China out of protest, resistance, and challenging the cultural/political beliefs and norms.
Let's actually break this down. Walking nude represented a taboo, challenging modesty, policies on public nudity, and showing the vulnerability of the human body against a national monument. The Republic of China does not present itself as an exceptionally liberal country, and conservatism and modesty is a priority. Asian-American Artist, Ming Yuen S. Ma in a public letter to Fen Ma Liuming, acutely described seeing the piece as a striking image of Ma Liuming's "feminized body against the rough masonry." Being slender in build with the feminine make up... with exception of his flat chest, and genitals... the image opens up a lot of discussion around gender and masculinity.
What this does mean to me? Part of my interest in Queer-Asian Identity as a... phenomena and exploring ways to express my evolution within that subculture- I have often wrestled with my own masculinity. On many of my attempts to pursue "professional" acting, or in scene study classes, etc. there is/was continual feedback on ways to help me "butch up", play straight (heterosexual), and or more masculine.
Something quite interesting here- when I put on an Asian accent- usually, Cantonese-Chinese as opposed to Vietnamese or Mandarin-Chinese, much of the feminized or queer traits that are often associated with me are lost. On a functional level, perhaps its my need to drastically slow down my speech, or how focused my actions become to help communicate with a difficult accent, or the register in which I place my voice- putting on an accent to "act" completely changes how I am seen.
On another level, I am curious and question perhaps if it is simply the mask that I brighten, and therefore takes more attention than my queer one.
The Great Wall of China represents a global symbol, but in itself communicates segregation, division, protectionism, and is built on a history of struggle, labor, and oppression of the masses. So what does it mean to walk along this divide? What is Ma Liuming questioning? Or demanding?
Deeper Questions/Thoughts
Ma Liumings works were documented, some in color, but a vast majority of this series of works were produced as black and white photographs. What I found interesting is how it has been framed. Consistently, there is a shallow amount of information about the works online, though they are often connected to various art galleries and distributors. There is a heavy sense of monetary value to these artworks. These prints range in value from 2000-33000 British Pounds.
Ma's work is minimalistic- especially his performance art pieces. With the exception of the make up, and some small props, often times it is his naked body acting in space. The work is as much conceptual as it is visually striking. I wonder if it is my own limited gaze, or limited exposure in North America, that the image of a nude Asian man in the media seems so rare, and thus unexpected. With the exception of 1-2 films, there really isn't a presence of the Asian Male body in mainstream media. So does this scarcity increase the perceived value of his work?
Intimately Foreign
Ma Liuming has travelled the world, but resides in a city and country where the vast majority of his neighbours look like him. They share the same skin color, hair color, size, tastes, and exposed to the same elements.
Ma Liuming and I share the same ethnic descent. Yet I am surrounded by different images, and live in a community of people where no one looks like me. I just realized that right now in Regina... I don't have any substantial Asian male friends. I wonder how much that matters.
In the queer community- I exist within a deficit because of differing ideals of beauty and attraction, my skin color immediately stratifies me at a lower level then pretty much anyone who is taller/whiter than me.
In Ma's work, as referenced on ArtSpeakChina, he thinks of his make up and body as the performance and "more of a symbol than a mask" for me, I verbalize my body, my queerness, and performance as all masks that communicate symbols.
I am still struggling with his work, and this post, and will do so for a while I imagine. I guess I am just taken by how familiar his art and his presence feels to me.
I'm perhaps not articulating it, but within his images- there is a deep sense of social familiarity. I can feel my parents and grandparents viewing his art, and through that imagination, I can feel them viewing me work. Despite having never visited the Great Wall, or seen his work live, I feel connected to him.
The nitty gritty details-
Born in 1968 in Huangshi, Hubei, Ma graduated from the Hubei Academy of Fine Arts in Oil Painting in 1991. He has been identified as an artist, sculptor, and performance artist. After he graduated, he moved to Beijing to be a part of an artist commune, the East Village.
His work is layered and dense with more discoveries to unpack with each viewing of his work. Issues/concepts/thoughts that come up when I reflect on Liuming's work include: gender, masculinity, queerness, communism, resistance, colonization, reclamation/appropriation.
During the 1990's, Ma created several performance pieces that were all connected by a constant practice and style of presenting himself.
The first is Fen Ma Liuming, his alter ego that came into existence in 1993. Fen Ma pushed the boundary of gender identity where Ma painted his face in with full make up with long flowing hair- quite convincingly representing a female face, while he remained unmodified and naked from the neck down as a man.
Methodology:
Fen Ma Liuming would perform what I would refer to as pedestrian action in the nude. He would then document his work via photos which have been displayed across the globe.
In one piece of photo documentation- he is shown taking a shower (nude as most people do) while surrounded by live fish that were hung from wires. This piece was titled Fish Child.
One of his earlier pieces was frying a fish- naked in the courtyard of his communal home.
Perhaps one of his more popular pieces is walking nude along the Great Wall of China. Fen Ma walked along the Great Wall of China out of protest, resistance, and challenging the cultural/political beliefs and norms.
Let's actually break this down. Walking nude represented a taboo, challenging modesty, policies on public nudity, and showing the vulnerability of the human body against a national monument. The Republic of China does not present itself as an exceptionally liberal country, and conservatism and modesty is a priority. Asian-American Artist, Ming Yuen S. Ma in a public letter to Fen Ma Liuming, acutely described seeing the piece as a striking image of Ma Liuming's "feminized body against the rough masonry." Being slender in build with the feminine make up... with exception of his flat chest, and genitals... the image opens up a lot of discussion around gender and masculinity.
What this does mean to me? Part of my interest in Queer-Asian Identity as a... phenomena and exploring ways to express my evolution within that subculture- I have often wrestled with my own masculinity. On many of my attempts to pursue "professional" acting, or in scene study classes, etc. there is/was continual feedback on ways to help me "butch up", play straight (heterosexual), and or more masculine.
Something quite interesting here- when I put on an Asian accent- usually, Cantonese-Chinese as opposed to Vietnamese or Mandarin-Chinese, much of the feminized or queer traits that are often associated with me are lost. On a functional level, perhaps its my need to drastically slow down my speech, or how focused my actions become to help communicate with a difficult accent, or the register in which I place my voice- putting on an accent to "act" completely changes how I am seen.
On another level, I am curious and question perhaps if it is simply the mask that I brighten, and therefore takes more attention than my queer one.
The Great Wall of China represents a global symbol, but in itself communicates segregation, division, protectionism, and is built on a history of struggle, labor, and oppression of the masses. So what does it mean to walk along this divide? What is Ma Liuming questioning? Or demanding?
Deeper Questions/Thoughts
Ma Liumings works were documented, some in color, but a vast majority of this series of works were produced as black and white photographs. What I found interesting is how it has been framed. Consistently, there is a shallow amount of information about the works online, though they are often connected to various art galleries and distributors. There is a heavy sense of monetary value to these artworks. These prints range in value from 2000-33000 British Pounds.
Ma's work is minimalistic- especially his performance art pieces. With the exception of the make up, and some small props, often times it is his naked body acting in space. The work is as much conceptual as it is visually striking. I wonder if it is my own limited gaze, or limited exposure in North America, that the image of a nude Asian man in the media seems so rare, and thus unexpected. With the exception of 1-2 films, there really isn't a presence of the Asian Male body in mainstream media. So does this scarcity increase the perceived value of his work?
Intimately Foreign
Ma Liuming has travelled the world, but resides in a city and country where the vast majority of his neighbours look like him. They share the same skin color, hair color, size, tastes, and exposed to the same elements.
Ma Liuming and I share the same ethnic descent. Yet I am surrounded by different images, and live in a community of people where no one looks like me. I just realized that right now in Regina... I don't have any substantial Asian male friends. I wonder how much that matters.
In the queer community- I exist within a deficit because of differing ideals of beauty and attraction, my skin color immediately stratifies me at a lower level then pretty much anyone who is taller/whiter than me.
In Ma's work, as referenced on ArtSpeakChina, he thinks of his make up and body as the performance and "more of a symbol than a mask" for me, I verbalize my body, my queerness, and performance as all masks that communicate symbols.
I am still struggling with his work, and this post, and will do so for a while I imagine. I guess I am just taken by how familiar his art and his presence feels to me.
I'm perhaps not articulating it, but within his images- there is a deep sense of social familiarity. I can feel my parents and grandparents viewing his art, and through that imagination, I can feel them viewing me work. Despite having never visited the Great Wall, or seen his work live, I feel connected to him.
"I believe my work is socially engaged, just not social practice". Benny Nemerofsky Ramsay
I met Benjamin Nemerofsky Ramsay in January of this year. I attended an art exhibition as part of the Queer City Cinemas Queer Performatorium- a performance festival that I have undoubtedly referenced a few times on this blog. I barely made a note about him on an earlier post on Jan 28.
So I'm talking about him now- because I'm feeling lost but not in panic- because these blogs were due like a lifetime ago and every memory of feeling like an inadequate student is circling me like the cold Spring Frost that is Regina. I'm talking about him now because of his exhibits and performances and how different they were from my work, and yet similar. I'm writing about him, because his work grounds me in my work- and right now my work is needed.
Benny as an artist and as a human being resides in a few different spaces. He is currently working out of Berlin, Germany. He was born in Montreal, QC, Canada. He identifies himself as an artist and diarist.
I'm trying hard to keep up with this blog style of writing, but time is has run out. So I'm gonna jump in and pray that this doesn't read of desperation... because it actually kind of doesn't.
I'm going to talk about his exhibition, Day Breaks Instead of Night Falling which existed in 3 visual installations and a forth component which was a performance.
As I walked into the Neutral Ground Gallery in Regina, SK. I was distinctly aware of my foreign-ness to the space. Many familiar faces of the tight knit arts community stood almost as part of the installation itself which created (for me) a start image of a very esoteric group of trendy people gathered to ponder over art that must be too deep for regular people to understand.
Suffice it to say, save a couple colleagues with whom I found solace, I needed to escape- so down the hall I pranced until I landed in the white and winding gallery that housed DBINF. Along the walls were letters and notes handwritten by Benny that transcribed the text of sound pieces and presented bios of work and artists. Along the top of the wall were bronzed speakers that were reminiscent of what you might see in a fenced school playground or an internment camp.
Against the back wall are images of a made up constellation, connected with a video that loops of a young man in a yellow flowing tank top, dancing and signing in silence to the song You and Me, by Blu Ray feat. Jimmie Sommerville. At the end of the song, the sound suddenly cuts on and viewers are left with the sound of the chorus looping as the young man stops moving and is transformed into the fabricated constellation.
Next to the video screen is a darkened entrance that led me into a dark room with large projections on the wall. The projection depicted a young man walking through a forest wearing an ornate mirror helmet as gay elders stood by singing and sharing wisdom. Arguably the most relevant quote from the piece,
"Do not attempt to conform to society. Stay right where you are and let society form itself around you, because it most certainly will. Neither look forward where there is doubt, nor backward where there is regret, but look inward to discover what you have to unpack."
These words and all the words were underscored by a synthetic melody of arpeggios that constantly moved like rushing water. All the performers' voices were modified and autotuned to resonate quite high.
As I exited the dark room, the sirens started to sound... but they were recordings of human voices- male voices, voices that rung in the falsetto register simulating alarms.
Later on the evening, the performance began with Benny sitting in front of the audience reading from a text, as a dancer wearing the same yellow tank top as in the installation video, moved and sounded (live obviously) in concert with the sirens and the text. It was incredibly cohesive, and the experience took weeks to process... but we had a bit of help.
Post the exhibit, Benny presented a session at the University of Regina and discussed his work. The crux of his work in this specific project and in many of his projects deal with the sound of his voice. As an out and open gay man, BNR took interest in the femininity of his voice. Counter to the deeper, and more resonant stereotype of what a masculine man should sound like, Benny decided to explore this. Through diverse projects that often connect with pop/popular music, and with him performing said music, Benny creates work that provide a sense of call and answer.
I had many chats with him upon a studio visit, and through facebook messages where he provided the title quote to this post "I believe my work is socially engaged, just not social practice." as I discussed the nature of the work and this course. Benny explores the ideas and constructs that people use to identify themselves, and document themselves.
In this exhibit, he is very present in the work and proudly presents his voice. In terms of methodology- BNR creates intermedia specific visual installations that he then incorporates films and moving images to manipulated and recorded sound- all focused on one concept of the feminized male voice. He then enters the space and turns it into a performance space where he guides the audience through another layer of his concept.
For the bronzed siren soundscape, Benny worked with many artists, one group included the Vienna Boys Choir.
Where as this exhibition focused on the voice, the concept is very similar to my work and interest. From my background I am of the belief that we perform and present ourselves everyday. And that the very act of living is a frame in which we perform. This difference is that I am more interested in how this applies to our bodies (of course integrating how our bodies affect our sound and voice). I believe that we present our stories and autobiographies without even thinking about it, and when we do think about it- it somehow transforms us.
Over the past year I was able to participate, view and consult on a few different projects where different artists explored the act of autobiographical performance. The common outcome was a narrative storytelling (often monologues) of past experiences to an audience. Sometimes, the stories were personal experiences, other times it was shared common beliefs/cultural practices. Within the theatre department, I consulted on the Aboriginal Theatre Project, where First Nations playwrights worked with students to produce, direct, and act in a conventional North American play performance. In Rebecca's THAC 360 clas, we had performances from Listen to Dis'Voice where one actor recounted a deeply personal and intense story about personal trauma and... healing. I will talk more about these in an upcoming post.
All of my pieces Alien Soiled, Rice, and Spitting Too Close exemplified similar forms products in performance, I just feel that in some ways they went beyond them as well. My performances have been a progression and correlated to my development and understanding of what I do and what I want to do.
Focusing on Spitting Too Close, as it pertains most relevantly to Benny Nemerofsky Ramsays' work and this blog post, I will break it down a bit more...
Over the course of 2 weeks (4 rehearsals) I invited 4 young actors to participate in a workshop exploration for a component to my final thesis. After a night of drinking and celebrating the 19th birthday of one of the cast members, as an out-queer man, it was fascinating to sit in a room of teenage, heterosexual actors in the winter of Regina in 2013. The ensuing antics (none of which were instigated by me) left me questioning how much I actually knew about sexual orientation beyond my intensely reflexive thinking about Queer Asian Subculture. I knew there was something here, and something that I needed to unpack to have a better understanding of my piece. If nothing else, it would provide a needed contrast to the sometimes one note thought/throughline of my work.
Through contact improvisation, and guided free-writing, and sharing of anecdotal experiences and stories, the cast created scenes and vignettes that created/explored spaces of heterosexual male expression (locker rooms and urinals), as well as liminal spaces where the boys talked about how they negotiated and conformed their images of themselves in relation to a common idea of what being a "man" meant. Woven around spoken word poetry that I created and posted on facebook, Spitting Too Close used personal art practices, improvisation, and autobiography to locate ourselves between who we believed ourselves to be, and what we presented to the world.
The final product was a collection of scenes, songs, and stylized text that can be seen here:
Spitting Too Close
Feedback from the audience questioned how we maintained the integrity, and sincerity of personal stories and moments when these stories were framed through classically trained actors, musicians and dancers.
It's this question that made me think of Benny's work. I should note here that there is another piece of Benny's work that could be argued as more comparable/fitting to reflect on- which is his remake of Rosa Song which I linked to in my last blog on Jan 28 (link above). There, he gathered a bunch of diverse gay men to discuss queer life and identity as part of a recreation of the original Rosa Song.
The reasons, I am making links Day Breaking Instead of Night Falling is that:
1) it's a continuation of a long term interest where the voice has been an integral part of BNR's work 2) his appropriation of recognizable pop music, and how he plays with that recognition- there is a strange jarring feeling of familiarity and nostalgia when hearing music that one might hear on the radio over and over again, and suddenly have it appear in an art installation/performance
3) the piece itself is similar to what I expect my final project to be- which is a series of performances and installations that take place within a large (possibly gallery) setting that lay out as a map of sites which attendees need to journey through
So what's the social outcome of this? Why now? Why is this important?
The point of the work is not to make it make sense to everyone. Both BNR and my work I think don't aim to prescribe a way of thinking, or push an agenda that is biased to some political view other than what might be intrinsically laid within the views of the "character." I think the work evokes ideas of the familiar, and engages audiences to questions within their own psyche about their identities and how they are connected to the communities around them.
What I'm literally trying to say- through an example- is that we present aspects of our identity in a format that does not victimize us, or compartmentalize us. When I worked with a group of women in Ontario who were developing a performance piece about their struggles to return to school and pursue their dreams for better careers and futures after some pretty tough life challenges- it was a struggle to find:
1) the theatricality within their stories
2) focus on finding ways to tell the story without them becoming victims, and worse- potentially reliving their traumas in their process of recollecting them
3) building a framework for the presentation that could support the entire ensemble.
BNR's work cause attendees to question and reexamine the frameworks within which we live in, and questions it in a way that doesn't focus on any one area (i.e. Queer studies, or Ethnic studies) and as he quotes- engages people socially as opposed to working as a practice to involve attendees in a role other than that.
I'll speak more of my work and how it relates to this in an upcoming post.
Nemerofsky Ramsay, Benjamin "Art for Lunch" University of Regina, Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada. Riddell Centre Room 050. January 11, 2013. Public Lecture.
So I'm talking about him now- because I'm feeling lost but not in panic- because these blogs were due like a lifetime ago and every memory of feeling like an inadequate student is circling me like the cold Spring Frost that is Regina. I'm talking about him now because of his exhibits and performances and how different they were from my work, and yet similar. I'm writing about him, because his work grounds me in my work- and right now my work is needed.
Benny as an artist and as a human being resides in a few different spaces. He is currently working out of Berlin, Germany. He was born in Montreal, QC, Canada. He identifies himself as an artist and diarist.
I'm trying hard to keep up with this blog style of writing, but time is has run out. So I'm gonna jump in and pray that this doesn't read of desperation... because it actually kind of doesn't.
I'm going to talk about his exhibition, Day Breaks Instead of Night Falling which existed in 3 visual installations and a forth component which was a performance.
As I walked into the Neutral Ground Gallery in Regina, SK. I was distinctly aware of my foreign-ness to the space. Many familiar faces of the tight knit arts community stood almost as part of the installation itself which created (for me) a start image of a very esoteric group of trendy people gathered to ponder over art that must be too deep for regular people to understand.
Suffice it to say, save a couple colleagues with whom I found solace, I needed to escape- so down the hall I pranced until I landed in the white and winding gallery that housed DBINF. Along the walls were letters and notes handwritten by Benny that transcribed the text of sound pieces and presented bios of work and artists. Along the top of the wall were bronzed speakers that were reminiscent of what you might see in a fenced school playground or an internment camp.
Against the back wall are images of a made up constellation, connected with a video that loops of a young man in a yellow flowing tank top, dancing and signing in silence to the song You and Me, by Blu Ray feat. Jimmie Sommerville. At the end of the song, the sound suddenly cuts on and viewers are left with the sound of the chorus looping as the young man stops moving and is transformed into the fabricated constellation.
Next to the video screen is a darkened entrance that led me into a dark room with large projections on the wall. The projection depicted a young man walking through a forest wearing an ornate mirror helmet as gay elders stood by singing and sharing wisdom. Arguably the most relevant quote from the piece,
"Do not attempt to conform to society. Stay right where you are and let society form itself around you, because it most certainly will. Neither look forward where there is doubt, nor backward where there is regret, but look inward to discover what you have to unpack."
These words and all the words were underscored by a synthetic melody of arpeggios that constantly moved like rushing water. All the performers' voices were modified and autotuned to resonate quite high.
As I exited the dark room, the sirens started to sound... but they were recordings of human voices- male voices, voices that rung in the falsetto register simulating alarms.
Later on the evening, the performance began with Benny sitting in front of the audience reading from a text, as a dancer wearing the same yellow tank top as in the installation video, moved and sounded (live obviously) in concert with the sirens and the text. It was incredibly cohesive, and the experience took weeks to process... but we had a bit of help.
Post the exhibit, Benny presented a session at the University of Regina and discussed his work. The crux of his work in this specific project and in many of his projects deal with the sound of his voice. As an out and open gay man, BNR took interest in the femininity of his voice. Counter to the deeper, and more resonant stereotype of what a masculine man should sound like, Benny decided to explore this. Through diverse projects that often connect with pop/popular music, and with him performing said music, Benny creates work that provide a sense of call and answer.
I had many chats with him upon a studio visit, and through facebook messages where he provided the title quote to this post "I believe my work is socially engaged, just not social practice." as I discussed the nature of the work and this course. Benny explores the ideas and constructs that people use to identify themselves, and document themselves.
In this exhibit, he is very present in the work and proudly presents his voice. In terms of methodology- BNR creates intermedia specific visual installations that he then incorporates films and moving images to manipulated and recorded sound- all focused on one concept of the feminized male voice. He then enters the space and turns it into a performance space where he guides the audience through another layer of his concept.
For the bronzed siren soundscape, Benny worked with many artists, one group included the Vienna Boys Choir.
Where as this exhibition focused on the voice, the concept is very similar to my work and interest. From my background I am of the belief that we perform and present ourselves everyday. And that the very act of living is a frame in which we perform. This difference is that I am more interested in how this applies to our bodies (of course integrating how our bodies affect our sound and voice). I believe that we present our stories and autobiographies without even thinking about it, and when we do think about it- it somehow transforms us.
Over the past year I was able to participate, view and consult on a few different projects where different artists explored the act of autobiographical performance. The common outcome was a narrative storytelling (often monologues) of past experiences to an audience. Sometimes, the stories were personal experiences, other times it was shared common beliefs/cultural practices. Within the theatre department, I consulted on the Aboriginal Theatre Project, where First Nations playwrights worked with students to produce, direct, and act in a conventional North American play performance. In Rebecca's THAC 360 clas, we had performances from Listen to Dis'Voice where one actor recounted a deeply personal and intense story about personal trauma and... healing. I will talk more about these in an upcoming post.
All of my pieces Alien Soiled, Rice, and Spitting Too Close exemplified similar forms products in performance, I just feel that in some ways they went beyond them as well. My performances have been a progression and correlated to my development and understanding of what I do and what I want to do.
Focusing on Spitting Too Close, as it pertains most relevantly to Benny Nemerofsky Ramsays' work and this blog post, I will break it down a bit more...
Over the course of 2 weeks (4 rehearsals) I invited 4 young actors to participate in a workshop exploration for a component to my final thesis. After a night of drinking and celebrating the 19th birthday of one of the cast members, as an out-queer man, it was fascinating to sit in a room of teenage, heterosexual actors in the winter of Regina in 2013. The ensuing antics (none of which were instigated by me) left me questioning how much I actually knew about sexual orientation beyond my intensely reflexive thinking about Queer Asian Subculture. I knew there was something here, and something that I needed to unpack to have a better understanding of my piece. If nothing else, it would provide a needed contrast to the sometimes one note thought/throughline of my work.
Through contact improvisation, and guided free-writing, and sharing of anecdotal experiences and stories, the cast created scenes and vignettes that created/explored spaces of heterosexual male expression (locker rooms and urinals), as well as liminal spaces where the boys talked about how they negotiated and conformed their images of themselves in relation to a common idea of what being a "man" meant. Woven around spoken word poetry that I created and posted on facebook, Spitting Too Close used personal art practices, improvisation, and autobiography to locate ourselves between who we believed ourselves to be, and what we presented to the world.
The final product was a collection of scenes, songs, and stylized text that can be seen here:
Spitting Too Close
Feedback from the audience questioned how we maintained the integrity, and sincerity of personal stories and moments when these stories were framed through classically trained actors, musicians and dancers.
It's this question that made me think of Benny's work. I should note here that there is another piece of Benny's work that could be argued as more comparable/fitting to reflect on- which is his remake of Rosa Song which I linked to in my last blog on Jan 28 (link above). There, he gathered a bunch of diverse gay men to discuss queer life and identity as part of a recreation of the original Rosa Song.
The reasons, I am making links Day Breaking Instead of Night Falling is that:
1) it's a continuation of a long term interest where the voice has been an integral part of BNR's work 2) his appropriation of recognizable pop music, and how he plays with that recognition- there is a strange jarring feeling of familiarity and nostalgia when hearing music that one might hear on the radio over and over again, and suddenly have it appear in an art installation/performance
3) the piece itself is similar to what I expect my final project to be- which is a series of performances and installations that take place within a large (possibly gallery) setting that lay out as a map of sites which attendees need to journey through
So what's the social outcome of this? Why now? Why is this important?
The point of the work is not to make it make sense to everyone. Both BNR and my work I think don't aim to prescribe a way of thinking, or push an agenda that is biased to some political view other than what might be intrinsically laid within the views of the "character." I think the work evokes ideas of the familiar, and engages audiences to questions within their own psyche about their identities and how they are connected to the communities around them.
What I'm literally trying to say- through an example- is that we present aspects of our identity in a format that does not victimize us, or compartmentalize us. When I worked with a group of women in Ontario who were developing a performance piece about their struggles to return to school and pursue their dreams for better careers and futures after some pretty tough life challenges- it was a struggle to find:
1) the theatricality within their stories
2) focus on finding ways to tell the story without them becoming victims, and worse- potentially reliving their traumas in their process of recollecting them
3) building a framework for the presentation that could support the entire ensemble.
BNR's work cause attendees to question and reexamine the frameworks within which we live in, and questions it in a way that doesn't focus on any one area (i.e. Queer studies, or Ethnic studies) and as he quotes- engages people socially as opposed to working as a practice to involve attendees in a role other than that.
I'll speak more of my work and how it relates to this in an upcoming post.
Nemerofsky Ramsay, Benjamin "Art for Lunch" University of Regina, Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada. Riddell Centre Room 050. January 11, 2013. Public Lecture.
-name
of
a specific work for each artist, and
-an
analysis
of how they made it.
-how
it
relates to your work and questions,
With
the
socially engaged artists, this would need to include both the
-artistic
methods and
-the
social
outcomes (preferably why one leads to the other!).
Friday, April 12, 2013
Va-jim-jams, Margaret Cho, and my first annotation
So it's been 2 months. This is what we call a blogger fail, but I call it a life win. So what if I am less obssessed with writing and more enraptured by laughs, life, and rolling on the studio floor? Oh right- this is for marks... and somewhere in that 2 months of interweb absence... there was a lot of heart break and depression.
Woe is me, poor starving student/artist- asked to critically think about my work and growing from beyond my ever expanding gut. It's a race, brain swelling vs. waistline, who will win? Neither, and least of all my ego, self-esteem, oy. OK no more pity party, let's get to this. I need a laugh, so the first artist I'm going to chat about is...
Margaret Cho
She is a celebrity, recovering drug addict, out and proud bi-sexual comedienne who carved and filled a niche for Asian-American, Queer-American, Queer-Asian-American people. Born December 5, 1968 and raised in San Francisco, California. She comes from a Korean background and is challenges the ideals of what that means, she challenges socio-cultural norms. She was my first Americanized-Asian hero, who defied the same expectations that I faced. Up until I first discovered her in the 90's, all I had to go on was Sulu, the King and I, and that kid from Degrassi. Everyone else was a stereotype, a ninja, or an extra that got killed in a 20 to 1 fight with a white dude. 20 trained ninjas vs. 1 untrained hero- and who won? Seriously?
Though she started doing stand up from the age of 16 and has a huge body of work under her belt, one of her most important works would be I'm the One that I want (2000). In this book/stand up comedy/documentary, Cho really showed her early approach to comedy and using her own story (her identity, and experiences, and appearance) as fodder for satirical jokes and exploiting stereotypes for a laugh.
In this piece, she talked about Korean Culture, Queer Culture, and mentioned how her show All American Girl turned her hour long stand up set into a full season of tv, which ultimately tanked because White male writers took over. Where Cho brings a sense of depth and balance to her stereotypical humour, and gave the same sense of depth to the other characters in the show, the writing evolved into a series of flat caricatures that were devoid of honesty and impact.
She also mentioned how her image and persona were too fat for television and talked about the pressures from her producers to conform to a slimmer image and expectation of herself. Cho weaves her audience through tragedy, eating disorders, and bad sex by framing everything in humorous punchlines and grotesque facial expressions that borders on clown.
Methodology- how and why do these artists do what they do?
I've started to mention it, so just to be clear- I'm titling this section- methodology.
So what does Marget Cho do? She tells jokes.
She stands in front of an audience, usually next to stool that has two bottles of water with the labels removed. She moves around this pillar, as she maneuvers around a mic stand. In her hand, she holds a microphone that she has used as a metaphor for a sword, a penis, some form of animal... or a microphone.
No but really- what does she do?
She uses narrative humour to recount personal stories that she sensationalizes by impersonating various, and recognizable stereotypes within North American culture. Wow- what did I just say? She tells stories about her life. She sets up a topic, creates the characters in the story that she's telling, enacts them out, and waits for the punch line.
Example-
Lesbians and Are you gay?
One thing I do want to clear up- I know I said that she impersonates 'recognizable' stereotypes, but recognizable to who?
Margaret Cho is able to bridge the gap between mainstream stereotypes and those of subcultures within American culture. In the example video, she transitions from very specific stereotypes of lesbians on an Olivia Cruise to Alaska, and then to a widely recognized character of an immigrant Korean woman (her mother).
Why do I want to clear this up? Why is this important?
Like many industries in the world, stand up comedy is dominated by men. People train to improvise, and be funny and tell jokes with punchlines- but for minority groups of any kind, it's really hard to be funny without being laughed at.
Margaret Cho disarms (and I used that word quite intentionally) her audience with a slew of jokes that they recognize and may have made themselves at one point. But it's always OK when an Asian person makes fun of Asians... and subsequently OK for you to laugh out loud when you're watching it. This is the same for women, Black jokes, gays, and any other minority. Right?
In January of this year, I was able to attend the Queer Performatorium Breakfast where Montreal based comedienne, DeAnne Smith, spoke about her stand up routines. She is an out and proud lesbian who raises many issues of feminism and women's rights in her performances. In an incredibly inspiring and insightful question period on moderating/establishing/performing feminism- Smith talked about how she sets up the audience.
She usually assesses the audience, which is more often than you might think- heterosexual/heteronormative/mildy conservative groups of people... en mass. She pointedly starts off with jokes that create a common vocabulary within the room... her example: Va-Jim-Jam (in reference to her vagina). In her words, she says that this 1) establishes the understanding that there will be 'graphic' material in this stand up 2) prepares her and the audience with a sense of how comfortable either will be with the oncoming jokes 3) creates a point of resistance to the norm and claiming a space and establishing her power within a room (beyond being the person with the microphone).
Jumping back to Margaret Cho, she does the exact same thing. One observation over the past decade of following her work is that it seems (in my observation) that her humour is becoming more and more esoteric. She has created a mainstream persona that conforms and negotiates with mainstream media in various shows as a supporting or guest character. This keeps her present as a celebrity. In her stand up, it seems like there is a denser quality of followers who are more attuned with her politically biased jokes and commentary.
Margaret Cho has an unerring way of knowing how long to hold a silence or break up the work. Because her jokes are relatively balanced between the banal and the conceptual, there is an ease (from experience) to her ability to wait for responses and coach when she needs to. She will hold a pause for as significant amount of time to allow audiences to react.
That said, she still frames her jokes within personal experience, because as a storyteller, and telling your own story, it's much easier to come across as the expert. By playing up these characters to animate her experiences, and using grotesque faces and various voices, she creates a performance that really leads the audience on a journey where they feel safe to laugh and ultimately opens doors for further discussion.
What this means to me?
I've seen a lot of culturally specific work that makes me want to puke. This may weaken my argument because I haven't listed examples... but I will, or at least I will definitely mention them in upcoming projects.
I find that there is a craft to telling a story, and being good at telling a story. In my practice and training as an actor, the most influential lesson that I ever learned was how permeable our emotions are. Emotions manifest as physical reactions to various stimuli. I learned this while working through clown work, and breathing work including Fitzmaurice and free diaphragmatic breathing. I was led to discover how closely our feelings relate to their opposites- i.e. joy and grief... laughter and tears. Sometimes you can't tell them a part.
What am I getting at? I find that with some autobiographical work and approaches to storytelling forget this. There is a pull/desire/expectation to air out our grievances and traumas as a story- especially if the work we do is related to some idea about being a social minority. I find that some work becomes extremely cathartic, and feeds the 'actors' need to feel something, and thus cuts off the audience from having a deeper connection... ultimately turning the work into something voyeuristic and less engaging. An example was recently we had an artist from Listen to Dis' Voice come to the community based art class. The artist depicted story of feeling unsafe and unwanted at home. Though beautiful and poetic, it left little to no room for the audience to breathe and connect with the work- the discomfort became so great that it was almost Brechtian in it's potential alienation of the witnesses.
I WANT PEOPLE TO LAUGH. In all my works there is an equal weight put on the humorous and the melancholy. I do run the risk of sometimes falling into a formulaic pattern. I was given feedback after my first piece in Regina, Alien Soiled that the performance weaved from happy and then sad, and then happy, and then sad, etc. I want to develop this further so that the work becomes more seamless and relevant to audiences.
I don't want to have to justify wanting people to laugh, I would rather focus my trajectory on learning what I can about making people laugh and figuring out my own creative path to achieve this. I want to slow down, and give more time to allow the audience to experience, soak in, and react to the work. I think I know why I want people to laugh though.
I'm scared of being a victim. I'm scared of being perceived as a victim. I feel like I compartmentalize and would create work that looks akin to pointing to a dead animal in the street if I present victims. I do not want my actors, myself, or my collaborators to relive trauma or to somehow feel inferior (or superior) because of some battle scar from life. Laughter, sincere and genuine laughter can create a communal release that opens the door for that sincerity and understanding of the trials and challenges of our personal lives to come across as a shared experience and not a lecture. We need not guilt and berate from our testimonies.
That said, it's not about making the shows one big circus, and it's not about not crying. I want people to laugh so that they are also able to cry (if they need to). That's perhaps the biggest reason I respect and usually enjoy Margaret Cho's work. At the end of every set, or at the end of a strong punch line, she has the audience in her grasp. They've laughed to tears, and are emotionally available and disarmed, and have developed an understanding of what she is talking about, and have REACTED and entered into a dialogue- her jokes being a call, and their laughter being a response. It is here that she brazenly slips in messages of equality, support, and demands for justice and acceptance, and it's in these moments that there is a sense of affirmation and transformation for everyone in the room. I want to do that.
Margaret Cho: I'm the one that I want Dir. Lionel Coleman. Perf. Margaret Cho. Self Produced DVD. 2000.
Woe is me, poor starving student/artist- asked to critically think about my work and growing from beyond my ever expanding gut. It's a race, brain swelling vs. waistline, who will win? Neither, and least of all my ego, self-esteem, oy. OK no more pity party, let's get to this. I need a laugh, so the first artist I'm going to chat about is...
Margaret Cho
She is a celebrity, recovering drug addict, out and proud bi-sexual comedienne who carved and filled a niche for Asian-American, Queer-American, Queer-Asian-American people. Born December 5, 1968 and raised in San Francisco, California. She comes from a Korean background and is challenges the ideals of what that means, she challenges socio-cultural norms. She was my first Americanized-Asian hero, who defied the same expectations that I faced. Up until I first discovered her in the 90's, all I had to go on was Sulu, the King and I, and that kid from Degrassi. Everyone else was a stereotype, a ninja, or an extra that got killed in a 20 to 1 fight with a white dude. 20 trained ninjas vs. 1 untrained hero- and who won? Seriously?
Though she started doing stand up from the age of 16 and has a huge body of work under her belt, one of her most important works would be I'm the One that I want (2000). In this book/stand up comedy/documentary, Cho really showed her early approach to comedy and using her own story (her identity, and experiences, and appearance) as fodder for satirical jokes and exploiting stereotypes for a laugh.
In this piece, she talked about Korean Culture, Queer Culture, and mentioned how her show All American Girl turned her hour long stand up set into a full season of tv, which ultimately tanked because White male writers took over. Where Cho brings a sense of depth and balance to her stereotypical humour, and gave the same sense of depth to the other characters in the show, the writing evolved into a series of flat caricatures that were devoid of honesty and impact.
She also mentioned how her image and persona were too fat for television and talked about the pressures from her producers to conform to a slimmer image and expectation of herself. Cho weaves her audience through tragedy, eating disorders, and bad sex by framing everything in humorous punchlines and grotesque facial expressions that borders on clown.
Methodology- how and why do these artists do what they do?
I've started to mention it, so just to be clear- I'm titling this section- methodology.
So what does Marget Cho do? She tells jokes.
She stands in front of an audience, usually next to stool that has two bottles of water with the labels removed. She moves around this pillar, as she maneuvers around a mic stand. In her hand, she holds a microphone that she has used as a metaphor for a sword, a penis, some form of animal... or a microphone.
No but really- what does she do?
She uses narrative humour to recount personal stories that she sensationalizes by impersonating various, and recognizable stereotypes within North American culture. Wow- what did I just say? She tells stories about her life. She sets up a topic, creates the characters in the story that she's telling, enacts them out, and waits for the punch line.
Example-
Lesbians and Are you gay?
One thing I do want to clear up- I know I said that she impersonates 'recognizable' stereotypes, but recognizable to who?
Margaret Cho is able to bridge the gap between mainstream stereotypes and those of subcultures within American culture. In the example video, she transitions from very specific stereotypes of lesbians on an Olivia Cruise to Alaska, and then to a widely recognized character of an immigrant Korean woman (her mother).
Why do I want to clear this up? Why is this important?
Like many industries in the world, stand up comedy is dominated by men. People train to improvise, and be funny and tell jokes with punchlines- but for minority groups of any kind, it's really hard to be funny without being laughed at.
Margaret Cho disarms (and I used that word quite intentionally) her audience with a slew of jokes that they recognize and may have made themselves at one point. But it's always OK when an Asian person makes fun of Asians... and subsequently OK for you to laugh out loud when you're watching it. This is the same for women, Black jokes, gays, and any other minority. Right?
In January of this year, I was able to attend the Queer Performatorium Breakfast where Montreal based comedienne, DeAnne Smith, spoke about her stand up routines. She is an out and proud lesbian who raises many issues of feminism and women's rights in her performances. In an incredibly inspiring and insightful question period on moderating/establishing/performing feminism- Smith talked about how she sets up the audience.
She usually assesses the audience, which is more often than you might think- heterosexual/heteronormative/mildy conservative groups of people... en mass. She pointedly starts off with jokes that create a common vocabulary within the room... her example: Va-Jim-Jam (in reference to her vagina). In her words, she says that this 1) establishes the understanding that there will be 'graphic' material in this stand up 2) prepares her and the audience with a sense of how comfortable either will be with the oncoming jokes 3) creates a point of resistance to the norm and claiming a space and establishing her power within a room (beyond being the person with the microphone).
Jumping back to Margaret Cho, she does the exact same thing. One observation over the past decade of following her work is that it seems (in my observation) that her humour is becoming more and more esoteric. She has created a mainstream persona that conforms and negotiates with mainstream media in various shows as a supporting or guest character. This keeps her present as a celebrity. In her stand up, it seems like there is a denser quality of followers who are more attuned with her politically biased jokes and commentary.
Margaret Cho has an unerring way of knowing how long to hold a silence or break up the work. Because her jokes are relatively balanced between the banal and the conceptual, there is an ease (from experience) to her ability to wait for responses and coach when she needs to. She will hold a pause for as significant amount of time to allow audiences to react.
That said, she still frames her jokes within personal experience, because as a storyteller, and telling your own story, it's much easier to come across as the expert. By playing up these characters to animate her experiences, and using grotesque faces and various voices, she creates a performance that really leads the audience on a journey where they feel safe to laugh and ultimately opens doors for further discussion.
What this means to me?
I've seen a lot of culturally specific work that makes me want to puke. This may weaken my argument because I haven't listed examples... but I will, or at least I will definitely mention them in upcoming projects.
I find that there is a craft to telling a story, and being good at telling a story. In my practice and training as an actor, the most influential lesson that I ever learned was how permeable our emotions are. Emotions manifest as physical reactions to various stimuli. I learned this while working through clown work, and breathing work including Fitzmaurice and free diaphragmatic breathing. I was led to discover how closely our feelings relate to their opposites- i.e. joy and grief... laughter and tears. Sometimes you can't tell them a part.
What am I getting at? I find that with some autobiographical work and approaches to storytelling forget this. There is a pull/desire/expectation to air out our grievances and traumas as a story- especially if the work we do is related to some idea about being a social minority. I find that some work becomes extremely cathartic, and feeds the 'actors' need to feel something, and thus cuts off the audience from having a deeper connection... ultimately turning the work into something voyeuristic and less engaging. An example was recently we had an artist from Listen to Dis' Voice come to the community based art class. The artist depicted story of feeling unsafe and unwanted at home. Though beautiful and poetic, it left little to no room for the audience to breathe and connect with the work- the discomfort became so great that it was almost Brechtian in it's potential alienation of the witnesses.
I WANT PEOPLE TO LAUGH. In all my works there is an equal weight put on the humorous and the melancholy. I do run the risk of sometimes falling into a formulaic pattern. I was given feedback after my first piece in Regina, Alien Soiled that the performance weaved from happy and then sad, and then happy, and then sad, etc. I want to develop this further so that the work becomes more seamless and relevant to audiences.
I don't want to have to justify wanting people to laugh, I would rather focus my trajectory on learning what I can about making people laugh and figuring out my own creative path to achieve this. I want to slow down, and give more time to allow the audience to experience, soak in, and react to the work. I think I know why I want people to laugh though.
I'm scared of being a victim. I'm scared of being perceived as a victim. I feel like I compartmentalize and would create work that looks akin to pointing to a dead animal in the street if I present victims. I do not want my actors, myself, or my collaborators to relive trauma or to somehow feel inferior (or superior) because of some battle scar from life. Laughter, sincere and genuine laughter can create a communal release that opens the door for that sincerity and understanding of the trials and challenges of our personal lives to come across as a shared experience and not a lecture. We need not guilt and berate from our testimonies.
That said, it's not about making the shows one big circus, and it's not about not crying. I want people to laugh so that they are also able to cry (if they need to). That's perhaps the biggest reason I respect and usually enjoy Margaret Cho's work. At the end of every set, or at the end of a strong punch line, she has the audience in her grasp. They've laughed to tears, and are emotionally available and disarmed, and have developed an understanding of what she is talking about, and have REACTED and entered into a dialogue- her jokes being a call, and their laughter being a response. It is here that she brazenly slips in messages of equality, support, and demands for justice and acceptance, and it's in these moments that there is a sense of affirmation and transformation for everyone in the room. I want to do that.
Margaret Cho: I'm the one that I want Dir. Lionel Coleman. Perf. Margaret Cho. Self Produced DVD. 2000.
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