Obscene Jester

the spheres have aligned

I thought when the video store across the street closed it was a punitive response, by, you know, the Universe, to my regular procrastination of writing my dissertation with afternoon rentals.  (And, no, no matter how I try to justify it, watching three seasons straight of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" does not count as research.  Not even the musical episode.)  But, now, the Universe is clearly smiling upon me again.  Walking home tonight, after the Performance Studies graduation party, I happened upon the grand opening of an Uncle Louie G's just down the block.  Oh Cherry Chip Explosion!  Oh Lick Me Lemon!  Oh It's a Crime Lime!  I am, truly, blessed.  And, seriously, now I can really never leave my apartment.

hanon reznikov, 1950-2008

Hanon Reznikov, who worked with the Living Theatre from 1977 and became, with Judith Malina, who he married shortly after, its codirector in 1985, died 4 May after suffering a stroke two weeks before.  The Living Theatre has only recently returned to New York, and their reprisal of The Brig, now touring, won a Special Citation for ensemble and direction at the 2007 Obies.  You can read Dan Bacalzo's writeup of Reznikov here.

In an interview with Malina, Reznikov remembered writing the new mission of the Living Theatre after Julian Beck's death in '85, as Malina detailed how theatre might merge "social change ... with the money system, the national system, the whole hierarchical structure of education, society, the economy, all of it" toward "a better way to do things."  It  is a mission that speaks not only to what the Living Theatre makes possible on its stages, but what theatre itself might strive for.

To call into question
who we are to each other
in the social environment of the theater,
 
to undo the knots that lead to misery,
 
to spread ourselves across the public's table
like platters at a banquet,
 
to set ourselves in motion
like a vortex that pulls the spectator into action,
 
to fire the body's secret engines,
 
to pass through the prism
and come out a rainbow,
 
to insist that what happens in the jails matters,
 
to cry "Not in my name!"
at the hour of execution,
 
to move from the theater to the street
and from the street to the theater.
 
This is what The Living Theatre does today.
It is what it has always done.

site-specific performance

Bang on a Can has just released its program for the 2008 marathon, taking place 31 May-1 June at the World Financial Center Winter Garden, and, according to Daniel J. Waken, it will culminate with Karlheinz Stockhausen's hourlong Stimmung, for microtonal voices, at dawn.   The ethical question of performing Stockhausen at Ground Zero is fraught, given his post-9/11 comments about the terrorist act and its relation to art, but so is art's relation to the real; and while I cannot separate the composer's comments from his music, I also wouldn't wish for a censoring silence--which would not only be of Stockhausen's work, but also the necessary conversation about it. 

When questioned about their choice in program, founding composer David Lang (who just won the Pulitzer) noted that BOAC will also be performing Steve Reich's Daniel Variations, dedicated to journalist Daniel Pearl, but also specified that choices were based on music, not politics:

Just by choosing the music that we love, without making this a foreground issue, we did end up choosing music that’s on both sides of this really complicated issue. ... Maybe that’s the way it should be — the messy parts of human experience should get covered.

Or uncovered, as the case may be.  At one of the first 9/11 commemoration concerts in NYC, BOAC performed Brian Eno's Music for Airports.  I don't know if the elegiacal nature of that programming (or the significance of the piece's title and history) was any more intentional than this more controversial one, but the performance offered a moment of quiet, and pained, contemplation.  Nearly seven years later, I hope even a piece as intentionally contemplative as Stimmung might offer a louder moment, noisy with the fact of Stockhausen's words and the possibility of what music might bring to the conversation.

[Photo by Joe Cavaretta, AP]

tweed demands recount

Hard to believe, friends, but the OJ has been bringing you informed and insightful commentary on performance for well over a year and a half now. And of course we do it for you, our loyal, wonderful, and refined readers. We adore you.

But you must understand, as in any vocation, it's nice to be recognized once in a while for your hard work. Naturally, I was a bit shocked, but mostly disappointed when I read Prospect Magazine's "Top 100 Public Intellectuals" released last week, only to find that the Jesters are nowhere to be found! Of course, I'm chalking this up to a clerical error. Or a problem with the chads in London.

Eco, Attali, Pamuk, Koolhaas, Soyinka, Ignatieff, Gore, Zizek. Check. Good. I'm even willing to go along with Chomsky, Dawkins, Habermas, Kasparov, Fukuyama (still public?). I'm an understanding and open-minded person.

But Hitchens? Gladwell? Friedman? What is this?; the Year of Pop Philosophy? Really? And then there's the Pope? David Petraeus?! Petraeus gets top billing over us?! My stomach is turning.

We're reasonable people, Prospect editors. We understand the politics and pitfalls of creating such a list. SSG and I would even take a seat together (right, sharky?). Don't put the public intellectuals on the same level as VH1's "Top 100 Hair Metal Songs of 1989." Public intellectuals are just talking heads enough as it is.

sanctioning the global performance village

There has been little that we can deem beneficial from the past five years in the occupation of Iraq, but one of the positive aspects we can cite is a (renewed?) interest in the history, politics, and cultures of the Middle East—in literature, in the news, and of course in performance. And aside from plays investigating the generic soldier, from knee-jerk agitprop to beautifully constructed drama, there are some who push the bill even further and dive right into the thick of conflicts of all varieties—intercultural, intracultural, secular (thanks Dr. Bharucha!). Naomi Wallace is one of the playwrights who has taken up this subject of inquiry.

The Fever Chart, her work in progress at the Public, explores the relationships between Israelis and Palestinians, Iraqis and Americans, with a few more tossed in for good measure. A trio of playlets that run the gamut from cliché to beautiful, Wallace ultimately explores the deeper human connections beyond the convoluted world of politics and religious rhetoric. Perhaps the eeriest and most stunning is the middle piece, “Between This Breath and You,” in which an Arab man confronts an Israeli nurse about her lung transplant five years ago. It’s never resolved, but the man claims that her lungs were once his son’s; his son, of course, was murdered by Israeli soldiers. What begins as a strange encounter twists and turns into a marvelous dramatization of creation through violence, the ownership of our very bodies, and the desire for physical autonomy in an increasingly fragmented, interconnected world.

In a period of profound conflict, perhaps the greatest degree of misunderstanding between cultures since outright imperialist times, it becomes increasingly important to learn about, dare I say empathize, with these cultures that we have conveniently ignored or pigeonholed for the past fifty years or more. Naomi Wallace’s initiative is driven home by a wealth of information provided in the dramaturgical notes in the program, ending with a marvelous list of recommended reading (why doesn’t every performance include this?!). Wallace isn’t always successful with this in practice, but in her frequent, strong moments, supported by a very strong cast and decent direction by Jo Bonney, she provides the audience with a moving and, most importantly, ethical performance experience. As the character of the final piece, “The Retreating World,” mourns, “Somewhere within all this information is a lullaby.”

The twinge of irony is quickly overwhelmed by the humanity, history, and loss of one individual, which Wallace seems convinced, is all it takes. I hope she’s right.

[Tweed note: PAJ recently published part one of The Fever Chart, "A State of Innocence" (PAJ 84, September 2006) which you may find here if you have access to Project Muse.]