Posts Tagged ‘heidegger’

Post-Narrative Storytelling and Rugged Individualism

Friday, June 11th, 2010

One thing I often take issue with in terms of American style theater is the narrowly defined focus on storytelling. Often the story is reduced to the events surrounding a lead character and their actions upon other characters. The focus is on the egoic structures centered around a very American notion of individualism and identity. I understand why it exists as this focus permeates American culture to the exclusion of most else. It is also the aspect of American culture that I least resonate with.

Bloodshed, slavery, and genocide aside, the idea this country was founded on was not the individual against everything but a more collectivist community. As the preamble to the U.S. Constitution states: We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

This is the intent of the Constitution. A collective act to create a better world for those who acted and future generations. The idea of the rugged individualist is more a historical accident born from the Western expansion of the American Empire. But as this country evolved, and moved towards practical concerns and away from its idealistic origins, the focus and intent of the culture was changed along with it. Thus we arrive at the present moment where the legacy of that rugged individualism is infused into every nook and cranny of the American experience.

It manifests in the work we see on stages as well as more pop-culture. Not only do these ideas present themselves in the literal narrative of written text, but also in the visual storytelling; scenic design, clothing, lighting, sound, and so forth. Too often the focus, as a function of the typical American disposition, gets placed on the actions of the character to the exclusion of everything else. Much like “Secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves” gets extracted from the rest of the constitution in a vain act of ego inflation.

While this can be fine entertainment, and certainly is a reflection of one aspect of American culture, it fails to express the fullness of that culture and, like much of American politics, ignores the founding dream upon which this nation came into being. We have lost our core belief as a country. As a result, our nation, our culture, and the world suffers.

To focus only on the egoic actions of the lead character(s) ignores the social context in which these characters exist. Social relationships are ignored or mitigated in terms of significance. Forget about social context. A set is nothing more than a representation of a place in which a person acts. Even when abstracted. The very thought of scenography as, perhaps, a resonant chamber against which actions might echo and reverberate is all but ignored.

There are two American theater artists I can think of whose entire process breaks down these problematics and builds a new potential vision of culture. Anne Bogart with her viewpoints method gives us a vector to reclaim collectivist social space within a theatrical context. The other is Richard Foreman. Probably my favorite theater maker in this country, he understands how the entire design, from scenery, to costumes, to lighting, to sound, must all work to provide a context in which action occurs. The action on its own is of no significance if it is not placed within a context.

Foreman’s notions of design as the construction of a resonant chamber could be linked to the Heideggarian notion of Thrownness. That is, an individual is born, or thrown, into a particular socio-historic context prescribed with various rules of behavior, social norms, expectations, customs, and ethics. From out of this thownness the individual must find their authentic Self. Their true way of being. Returning to a theatrical setting, the actions of a character, be they actor, singer or dancer, make no sense unless they exist within some context against which they act.

To simply “tell the story” of the lead character is to fall prey to the trap which ensnares American culture and politics. It is to see the individual as more important than the group. The now as more important than the future.

To fully embody the self we must transcend our culture. To transcend does not mean to leave behind. It means to fully incorporate it and build beyond its capacity. Foreman has done this through writing which I would characterize as falling firmly in the American romantic tradition. Yet he has taken those ideas, particularly the notion of the individual self, to such a far degree that it has moved beyond its origins and into a whole new mode of theatrical experience. His staging and scenography is a transcendent act.

In discussing theater so extensively here I do not mean to imply it is the only mode of performance which suffers from this problem. Opera and dance too are firmly entrenched in this egoic mode of storytelling. The trend in contemporary dance to tell rather pedestrian stories about the choreographer’s mundane experience is another manifestation of this. Long gone are the days of Martha Graham’s focus on myth or Steps in the Street which firmly places the individual within a social context.

American Opera is typically one of the worst in this regard. The excessive use of followspots to “tell the story” of the lead singer is a failure on the part of the creators to move beyond textual narrative and embrace a fuller notion of storytelling. Although in that world there are some escape vectors. The design work of John Conklin provides us with an American designer whose work transcends typical American storytelling.

With the traditional American mode of storytelling we miss out on some great theatrical opportunities. Real people doing real things are not interesting on stage. Realism and naturalism are far better handled by film. American performance, by and large, has forgotten the essence of true theatricality. Spectacle is certainly present, but theatricality, that magic of liveness, where things happen which are only compelling because they are live, is rare.

Perhaps we need a return to origins. Just as this country could stand to read through the constitution again and truly soak in what was actually said, so too could we, as creators, rediscover what makes live performance unique and compelling and return there. From that more solid foundation we become better able to move forwards and create strong and powerful works which engage our audiences and transcend their beliefs as to what is possible.

On Visual Thinking

Monday, April 12th, 2010

Most thought, at least in my experience, happens through the medium of language. We use language as a primary means of communicating thoughts, ideas, and emotions with one another. We are taught early on to read and write. With the rise of email, IM, and the like, we have become a culture strongly oriented to the word.

Through all of this verbal bombardment it is important to remember that linguistic thinking is merely one modality of thought. As philosopher Martin Heidegger says, “What is spoken is never, and in no language, what is said.” What is spoken leaves out what is seen. And that which is seen, speaks.

Visual language is an amazingly powerful means of communication. Certainly advertising agencies have realized this. They utilize this knowledge to a great degree. Visual language suffers the same limitations as spoken language. Context is important. And with context comes the ability to read between the lines. One of my favorite visual context issues has to do with how children are dressed. In European, and European derived cultures like the United States, little boys are associated with the color blue while girls are associated with pink. In parts of India (and I can only imagine other parts of the world as well) the reverse is true. Rather than seeing pink as feminine, it is seen as the diminutive of red (a very masculine color) and as such a totally proper color for little boys.

Visual thinking, just like verbal thinking, necessitates an understanding of the cultural context and the larger visual vocabulary of that contextual visual language. The color example above is but one instance of visual language differing culturally. The meaning of shadow is culturally determined as well. In fact, I would argue that visual languages are as unique and distinct as verbal languages. Just as the collection of phonemes that make the word pronounced [fuhk] have a different meaning whether you speak English or Vietnamese natively, so too does red or shadow have different meaning depending on the visual language you speak.

Just as there are similarities between the verbal and the visual with regards to vocabulary, there are similarities in terms of grammar and syntax. Rather than issues like subject/object or verb/noun (although those concerns can arise) we have foreground/background or shadow/highlight.

While we can map similarities between the visual and verbal realms all day long, we must be clear that the two are distinct. Talking about visual ideas can be a nice way to begin a project. It can serve to frame a show before heading in to tech. It can be useful in terms of devising the palette of lights used by a designer. But once the lights are being turned on and off, and cues recorded, the thinking must be wholly visual. It does not help to sit there going “I wonder if turning on the head-hi will deconstruct the notion of theatricality better than the shins.” Or “rather than looking at the stage picture I’m going to take a moment to think if frame 6 blue or frame 7 blue in the scrollers is more romantic.” Or whatever. You turn a light on, see if it looks right, and adjust as needed. The thinking must be at the visual/emotional level rather than the verbal/rational level or the effort will fail.

I recently had a board-op say to me they wished I would not turn my mic off when speaking to my assistant because they wanted to know my thought process. I was honestly baffled by that response because the thought process is not talking, it is looking and then turning lights on, off, up, or down. “Channel 35 to 20 percent” is a thought. It is an idea. A hypothesis.

I write this blog because I find writing to be an enjoyable activity. I do not write this blog because writing about light and moving light through space/time are the same thing. They are not.

Back when I would work as a board-op, even if I did not like the work of the designer, I would watch every level change with rapt attention trying to decipher why they made that change and not another one. I would play games trying to see with their eyes and guess ahead of them what they would do next. When I was really paying attention I would be right in the zone with the designer almost like I was lighting the show myself. That is visual thinking.

Without visual thinking, without putting words aside and allowing the mind to focus wholly on what it sees before it, the creation of visual art is impossible. To improve my visual thinking I have recently taken up drawing again. When drawing, words not only don’t help, they hurt. One must turn off the verbal part of the brain and just look and see. If the line is correct move on to the next one. If it is wrong correct it. The right answer is in your mind’s eye.

It can be a lot of work to free a mind oriented to verbal language and allow it to think visually. It was not easy for me. In fact it was a lot of work. Words are seductive. It can be easy to get trapped inside a beautiful rhetorical flourish and not notice that it is masking a lie. Visual language can lie too. But one thing it can’t lie about is whether or not it looks good.

Close this browser window, pick up a pencil, and start looking. You’ll expand your vocabulary and improve your grammar at the same same time. And don’t forget to enjoy yourself.

From the Archives: The Aesthetics of Control

Monday, October 19th, 2009

This piece was originally posted in January of 2008.

Beauty is a fateful gift of the essence of truth, and here truth means the disclosure of what keeps itself concealed. The beautiful is not what pleases, but what falls within that fateful gift of truth which comes to be when that which is eternally non-apparent and therefore invisible attains its most radiantly apparent appearance.
Martin Heidegger, What is called Thinking?

Heidegger’s concern with beauty here has its essence in Humanity’s relation to its own quest for self knowledge. The quest to understand the Self, that true and unwavering quest is itself the essence of Beauty. He calls this unique human essence Dasein, that which is concerned with its own being. Beauty then, is the clear and unadulterated understanding, or quest for that essence.

When he takes up the issue of art it is most often through poetry. Or poetry as the essential in a poetic understanding of the world. But it is that larger poetic understand of the world that is key. When Keats claims that “‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all // Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know” he is speaking here to that same essential mode of being, that poetic worldview. But is this “truth” the truth of the poem, or the Grecian Urn for which the poem was written. Or was the Urn itself a mere tool for which the poem may express some larger understanding of the world?

These questions are inherent to the making of art. Surely one can make a piece of art, be it a poem, a painting, photograph or piece of theater and be unthinking in that action. Such a work may even point to some aspect of truth. But such unthinking works rarely tend towards that poetic essence whereby some larger truth is found and some deeper understanding of the Self and its relation to the world is made manifest.

In Architecture of Authority, Richard Ross explores the poetic beauty of post-modern fascist architecture in contemporary culture. In this book he is exploring spaces that, rather than being pure in themselves and allowing the person experiencing them to create their own relation to the space, force a particular mode of relation onto the individual. Prisons, courtrooms and psych wards are explored, but so too are a Chelsea gallery and Montessori Preschool.

In fact, his work calls into question the very idea that fascism and control are mechanisms and tactics perpetrated by individuals at the upper echelons of power. Rather they are ubiquitous throughout culture and humans, at every level of culture and development, create spaces wherein the control and manipulation of their fellow being can occur.

Through his lens these spaces of torture and control, of confinement and terror, become at once beautiful and horrifying. It is as though he has seen the essential truth of the politics of control and captured it here in his book. But more than that, the aesthetics that underlie these spaces are the same design sense that one finds in Ikea furniture, or the structure of an Ikea store itself.

His work begs the question wherein does this Beauty lie? For to most of us, I would presume, a prison is not a beautiful space. Yet Ross captures some essential beauty in his photographs. It seems then that the beauty lies not so much in the thing itself but in Ross’ unique relationship to contemporary fascistic control. Beauty is that which is contained in the worldview of the observer, in the relationship and continual dialog between observer and observed.

The photograph is a visual representation of the relationship of the photographer to its subject. The beauty lies not so much in either of those, but rather in the energy created through this relatedness. For a worldview can not exist in a vacuum, it must, by its very nature have a world to resonate off of, to shape and be shaped by. So too can the world not fully exist in an existential sense without a viewer to complete the relationship. A world is a container and that container is empty without that which it contains.

The world, to return to Heidegger, conceals that which exists only in relation to the viewer, to the subject. But that which exists in the relationship between the viewer and the subject is in turn concealed by the subject’s own subjectivity. Just as the manner in which fundamental particles are measured in physics causes their very nature to change, so too does the subject’s subjective viewing of the world cause that which would be revealed to withdraw once more into concealment.

The world is a collaborative space. It takes the work of every man, woman, child, animal, plant and fungus to make it what it is. The aesthetics of control have pervaded our society so deeply that the same clean lines of the new chic apartment, or commercial play, are those same lines found in the jail cells of the Guantanamo detention facility. We have already bought in to the aesthetics of control. What we have not yet given up fully is our relatedness to that world.

Teaching, Influence and Critique

Saturday, June 27th, 2009

Yesterday, I ran into a former student of mine from when I coached debate back in College. There were several of us who taught at El Cerrito High each with our own specialty. My particular thing was philosophical critique, specifically the Heideggarian critique of technology. To anyone who has been reading this blog for any length of time I know it will come as no surprise that I was teaching advanced philosophy to highschool students at the age of 19.

What amazed me about this meeting was the discovery I had during our brief reunion of the impact of my teaching on this man’s life and the lives of several other students of mine. One, it seems, took the critique as far as it could go and made it to the college national debate finals.

I have loved teaching ever since this first experience but, until now, had never had any direct experience of the effect it could have. Certainly I know the influence of my own teachers, but the thought never crossed my mind that I could be that to someone else. Then suddenly over a decade later a random guy turns to you in a restaurant while eating a burrito and tells you that you contributed, in a not insignificant way, to something that was a major part of his life.

Truly, an amazing experience.

This got me thinking about influence and what that means. While the substantial reason for my writing this blog for the last three and a half years has been to provide me with a means of working through my own inner thinking, I have held a small hope that my words might in some way impact someone’s life for the better.

Whenever we engage in any pursuit we have an impact on others. No matter if you are cleaning floors or leading the free world, your actions have an impact. In the end, we are all part of a network and the strength of that network is directly related to the value we, as actors within it, give out. Value is a difficult thing to measure and in the end highly subjective. That said, we all have our own inner barometer of what is valuable. While we may spend endless hours disagreeing over what is of value in the abstract, we can all, in every moment, work to create value according to our own inner drive.

For the last few weeks I have been writing a lot about the basics of lighting. In my own blog I am midway through a series on basic lighting angles that is written to be a very elementary introduction for young lighting designers just stepping into this world, or for other people who would like a better idea of what it is that we do. In addition I have been writing a basic intro to the lighting designer’s process over at Isaac Butler’s blog. And recently I put together an article on the basic’s of dance lighting for Rob Sayer’s blog.

My true love and first interest in design is the intersection of visual design and advanced critical theory. This is one of the things that I loved about studying with John Conklin at NYU. He can design the hell out of a play for performance, but at the same time delves deeper into a text to bring about a visual reading than anyone else I have ever encountered.

All this is to say two things. The first is that we simultaneously influence and are influenced by the people around us. Depending upon our relative capacities it may be more or less, but that give and take is always there in all relationships wether formally academic or not. The second thing, and of direct import to this space here is that I will very likely be returning to my original motivation with regards to writing about the theatre. That is, taking on a deeply probing critique of the text and applying that to the visual world.

More than anything else that we do as designers, we are providing a visual reading of a text. That idea has been, and will continue to be a guiding principal of my design work and by extension, my writing.

Not all design can be talked about. Not all plays can be talked about. In the same way, there were ideas held in that Heidegger critique that could not merely be read or spoken. They had to be experienced. In the theatre, we are engaging in a deep reading of a text. Unlike philosophers and critical theorists whose work in this regard manifests only as words, our work translates words to the visual realm. It at once dives into and rises beyond the capacity for language.

Critique, and in that word I mean to include the theatre, lives only in the realm of debate. It exists in the reading by the performers and the designers and the directors. That reading lives on through the reading of the audience. When Hegel talked about the dialectic nature of thought, it was not merely philosophy that those ideas encompassed. All of human effort, all of society and culture, exist by those same rules.

No thesis may be presented that does not contain within it the seed of its anti-thesis and by that a future synthesis. This is biological life. This is the history of ideas. This is the world of theater. From word to image and back to word. Perhaps a few still images or video remains but in the end all we have are the thesis, the text and its resultant synthesis, the review, that came about through union with the text’s anti-thesis the performance.

I have traveled far afield from a post that was intended to be about our responsibility as teachers and creators. But then, perhaps this is all immediately germane to that topic. Perhaps the mundanities of responsibility are intimately wedded to the most abstract thought. Heidegger himself after all was concerned with the most basic of things. He took the most sophisticated and sublime of continental theory and used it to talk about hammers and shoes.

While we may remember the extreme highs and lows of our lives the best, it is so often the simple living and doing of our works as humans that we are remembered by others.

Narrative Context and the Culture of Information

Sunday, January 6th, 2008

It begins like an autobiography. The day to day of this and that. Quickly transforming into an exploration of post-industrial information culture. We are become like gods. Sadly we watered down the idea so much that by the time we finally made it, the whole thing just felt like more of the same.

She says “We have begun wearing the behaviour of miniature celebrities, even when we’re not aware of it. Our journals are quietly expanding their borders, leaking out into full scale multimedia presentations that saturate our real life social interactions, as if our constant connection to the network is warping us from observers into the content itself. We The Public learning to manage Being Public.” And it feels close, but something is missing from the equation.

Because in the end it is a mask, as she says. A performance. I start to understand when he says “Persona means the actor’s mask through which his dramatic tale is sounded. Since man is the percipient who perceives what is, we can think of him as the persona, the mask, of being.” Because, I am interested not so much in what is the mask or what is the play, but who wrote the script? What is the “being” that dons the mask we call Human experience?

As he says a little earlier, “Script easily smothers the scream, especially if the script exhausts itself in description, and aims to keep men’s imagination busy by supplying it constantly with new matter. The burden of thought is swallowed up in the written script, unless the writing is capable of remaining, even in the script itself, a progress of thinking, a way.” His script, in this instance comes surprisingly close to her feeling that “Our personal narratives have become individual expression painted entirely by collective context.”

This is what I say with “A Subject can not exist without a context whereby there are Objects. Thus, the Subject, whole within its own subjective experience, must also always already exist as Object to another . . . and the negotiation continues.”

The question inherent in that is to what degree does the individual act as an agent of change within the system. That is, how much of the character is script, and how much performance? We may well be the lead character in the story of our lives, but how much is written and how much do we write?

Culture can shape your view of the world, the saying goes. And it might be more than just a saying: a new study suggests that culture may shape the way our brains process visual information.

Researchers found that the brains of older East Asian people respond less strongly to changes in the foreground of images than those of their Western counterparts. They suggest this difference is due to an increased emphasis on the background, or context, of images in some Asian cultures. But other experts think the study does not firmly establish culture as the cause for this divergence.

And like an autobiography it ends, although no longer for an individual. The collective human voice as contextual rendering for the expression of the perception of individual thought. One sheep rising above the flock.

The Path to Relatedness

Thursday, January 3rd, 2008

It has been interesting recently to re-ignite my interest in the writings of Martin Heidegger. What makes his work so fascinating to me is two primary things. First is his interest in fundamental ontology and phenomenology. That is, his work is concerned with human activity at the most basic level. Where many philosophers take issue with the absolute, god, reason, and so forth, Heidegger is concerned with walking through doors or using a hammer to build a chair. The second point of interest is the way in which his writings feel like a journey. He is the tour guide to the reader through the phenomenal aspects of human existence, again contrasted with most western philosophers who act as the supreme lecturer disseminating information to the lowly masses.

His thoughts on art and the poetic worldview are of specific interest to me. In What is called Thinking? he speaks of the essential nature of craft and art by exploring the work of a cabinetmaker in saying “what maintains and sustains even this handicraft is not the mere manipulation of tools, but the relatedness to wood.”

In art, this relatedness is essential to the work. It is a relatedness that is itself an entire world of being, and the artist must negotiate that being-in-the-world. Take for instance the play. The playwright must have a relatedness to language, a relatedness to story, character, theme, plot and so forth. Each one of those “related tos” are one strand in a web of relations that comprise the matrix of relations necessary for the play to be wrought.

Stepping away from the act of writing a script, or engaging in a play being wrought is the production as a whole. Every member of the collaborative team must needs have a relatedness to the other collaborators. No one person can act and create in a vacuum, certainly not if the intent is to create a true work of art. Instead a web of relations builds or is made manifest that allows the creation of the play to happen.

But returning to the more basic level, the artist must have a relatedness to the work. I, as the lighting designer, must have a relation to light. And that relatedness to light is what guides and shapes the way the light relates to the play. To the work as a whole.

David Lynch in Catching the Big Fish talks about this relatedness from a different direction. He speaks of the artist’s relatedness to creativity or, as he puts it, ideas. Through meditation he finds it possible to transcend the day to day confusions and get right to the heart of one’s relatedness to creativity. “Life is filled with abstractions, and the only way we make heads or tails of it is through intuition. Intuition is seeing the solution – seeing it, knowing it. It’s emotion and intellect going together.”

Intuition can only exist when the artist has cleared the path for the relatedness towards the medium. If you are hungry you are related to food, tired to sleep, angry to frustration. Clearing the path towards that primary artistic relation allows the work to happen. To flow. It makes, as Heidegger would say, “the world fall away” and creation to commence.

The Aesthetics of Control

Thursday, January 3rd, 2008

Beauty is a fateful gift of the essence of truth, and here truth means the disclosure of what keeps itself concealed. The beautiful is not what pleases, but what falls within that fateful gift of truth which comes to be when that which is eternally non-apparent and therefore invisible attains its most radiantly apparent appearance.
Martin Heidegger, What is called Thinking?

Heidegger’s concern with beauty here has its essence in Humanity’s relation to its own quest for self knowledge. The quest to understand the Self, that true and unwavering quest is itself the essence of Beauty. He calls this unique human essence Dasein, that which is concerned with its own being. Beauty then, is the clear and unadulterated understanding, or quest for that essence.

When he takes up the issue of art it is most often through poetry. Or poetry as the essential in a poetic understanding of the world. But it is that larger poetic understand of the world that is key. When Keats claims that “‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all // Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know” he is speaking here to that same essential mode of being, that poetic worldview. But is this “truth” the truth of the poem, or the Grecian Urn for which the poem was written. Or was the Urn itself a mere tool for which the poem may express some larger understanding of the world?

These questions are inherent to the making of art. Surely one can make a piece of art, be it a poem, a painting, photograph or piece of theater and be unthinking in that action. Such a work may even point to some aspect of truth. But such unthinking works rarely tend towards that poetic essence whereby some larger truth is found and some deeper understanding of the Self and its relation to the world is made manifest.

In Architecture of Authority, Richard Ross explores the poetic beauty of post-modern fascist architecture in contemporary culture. In this book he is exploring spaces that, rather than being pure in themselves and allowing the person experiencing them to create their own relation to the space, force a particular mode of relation onto the individual. Prisons, courtrooms and psych wards are explored, but so too are a Chelsea gallery and Montessori Preschool.

In fact, his work calls into question the very idea that fascism and control are mechanisms and tactics perpetrated by individuals at the upper echelons of power. Rather they are ubiquitous throughout culture and humans, at every level of culture and development, create spaces wherein the control and manipulation of their fellow being can occur.

Through his lens these spaces of torture and control, of confinement and terror, become at once beautiful and horrifying. It is as though he has seen the essential truth of the politics of control and captured it here in his book. But more than that, the aesthetics that underlie these spaces are the same design sense that one finds in Ikea furniture, or the structure of an Ikea store itself.

His work begs the question wherein does this Beauty lie? For to most of us, I would presume, a prison is not a beautiful space. Yet Ross captures some essential beauty in his photographs. It seems then that the beauty lies not so much in the thing itself but in Ross’ unique relationship to contemporary fascistic control. Beauty is that which is contained in the worldview of the observer, in the relationship and continual dialog between observer and observed.

The photograph is a visual representation of the relationship of the photographer to its subject. The beauty lies not so much in either of those, but rather in the energy created through this relatedness. For a worldview can not exist in a vacuum, it must, by its very nature have a world to resonate off of, to shape and be shaped by. So too can the world not fully exist in an existential sense without a viewer to complete the relationship. A world is a container and that container is empty without that which it contains.

The world, to return to Heidegger, conceals that which exists only in relation to the viewer, to the subject. But that which exists in the relationship between the viewer and the subject is in turn concealed by the subject’s own subjectivity. Just as the manner in which fundamental particles are measured in physics causes their very nature to change, so too does the subject’s subjective viewing of the world cause that which would be revealed to withdraw once more into concealment.

The world is a collaborative space. At takes the work of every man, woman, child, animal, plant and fungus to make it what it is. The aesthetics of control have pervaded our society so deeply that the same clean lines of the new chic apartment, or commercial play, are those same lines found in the jail cells of the Guantanamo detention facility. We have already bought in to the aesthetics of control. What we have not yet given up fully is our relatedness to that world.

Bear with me, I just woke up and now I have to go to rehearsal

Friday, October 27th, 2006

So I figured I would try that whole conversational blogger thing out, as it seems to be popular with the kids these days. Also I just woke up from a nap, so please bear with me.

I have been thinking about conceptual art recently and for the most part I don’t like it. “But Lucas, you are such a conceptual, intellectual type, why on earth would you not like conceptual art?” Well, because I love art. And I love conceptual thinking. But I find a lot of conceptual art misses the art and lies about the concept.

What the hell does that mean?

Actually I am not so sure but it feels right. And again, I just woke up from a nap.

Let us take one of my favorite conceptual works of art. Erasing De Kooning. I have never seen this work of art. I don’t need to. It actually is conceptual art. The idea, and execution thereof, is the art. The object, ultimately, bears no relation to the work of art. It is after all, a blank piece of paper. My next favorite is 4’33”. But again, the ‘work’ exists only in the past, in that first moment it was performed. After that the art died and only the concept remained.

Concepts are dead. There is nothing wrong with death. It can be quite beautiful. But unlike art, it is not alive. Most conceptual art hits high marks for concept but falls dead on the art. At that point I am bored.

In an essay in Theatre of Essence titled ‘After Grotowski: The end of the impossible Theatre’ Jan Kott describes a happening in which a truly transformative social-sexual event takes place and then a later run of that same piece, where the audience, knowing all the cues, is prepared for a huge orgy and is in no way challenged. There is a fundamental difference between those two events, even though they might follow the exact same script.

I love reading philosophy. Yet it is interesting that that works like Being and Time are lumped together with general criticism as both being Philosophy. One would never, I hope, confuse art with art criticism. Yet when one delves into conceptual art the lines begin to blur. Done well this can be interesting, but more often than not I simply end up bored. And I do not think anything interesting has been added to the conversation.

In California I was involved with a group that threw very high concept dance events in San Francisco. While the event itself was highly conceptual in nature, the music fucking rocked out. There was no esoteric cerebral concept. It was just some bangin’ Breaks.

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Afterwards there would often be discussion and criticism of both the concept and the music, but they were two separate conversations. Why? Because they are two separate things. To try and conflate the two misses the entire point.

It was conceptual art, with a sense of fun. A sense of play. Ideas and concepts, rarely, have that play. I like plays. I like having fun. Working on shows I have little interest in working with people who have no sense of fun. People who take themselves so fucking seriously they can not laugh at their own absurdity from time to time. One can do serious work and still have the process be fun.

I’m about as absurd as they get. I’m also tend to be high on the conceptual list as well. In the theatre I don’t care about the concept. I care about staying true to the moment and having fun. The conceptual work is great as a foundation. It is a fun intellectual exercise and as a way of using all those fiddy cent SAT words. But when I am working it is not with the rational linguistic part of my brain that I work. It is the visual and temporal processing centers.

This was true of Brecht, one of the biggest theory geeks ever to grace the theatre. Theory has its place outside the rehearsal. Inside the rehearsal, theory is deadly. The only way to truly engage a work of art on the conceptual and theoretical level is through another work of art. To engage it on the level of theory and criticism is either a book report, or it engages the concept behind the work, and not the work itself.

As Peter Brook says in the Empty Space

To make matters worse there is always a deadly spectator, who for special reasons enjoys a lack of intensity and even a lack of entertainment, such as the scholar who emerges from routine performances of the classics smiling because nothing has distracted him from trying over and confirming his pet theories to himself, whilst reciting his favorite lines under his breath. In his heart he sincerely wants a theatre that is nobler-than-life and he confuses a sort of intellectual satisfaction with the true experience for which he craves. Unfortunately, he lends the weight of his authority to dullness and so the Deadly Theatre goes on its way.

Authentic Categories

Monday, June 5th, 2006

When Jean-Paul Sartre called Che Guevara “the most complete human being of our age” he saw a man who had no inner conflict regarding his world view and aspirations, whose every action made manifest the ideals he lived with inside himself. One may like or dislike Che. They may agree or disagree with any number of things the man did. Che was a highly complicated individual yet he was clear within himself of not only his own personal goals and aspirations, but of what was needed to create a more perfect world. He lived entirely by the ideals he espoused.

This is what we are referring to when we talk of authenticity. The individual is not judged as though a criminal. There is no punishment for wrong doing. Living authentic or inauthentic lives is of no normative concern. It holds no moral weight. No position authentically exists from which one could condemn. Rather, the point of import is within ones self.

Zay Amsbury asks “How does the “come from” of an artist determine their authenticity?” This is a simple enough. It is everything. In one section of his Indeterminacy John Cage relates a Buddhist teaching. The student asks “If the mountains are still mountains and the trees are still trees, then what is the difference before enlightenment and after?” To which the teacher replies, “No difference. Except that the feet are a little bit off the ground.”

In this way we see that the actions themselves may be no different in any formal sense. The wood is still chopped the water still carried, yet for one it is like floating. In the same way, one is always historically determined as regards their prima facia modes of thought and action. One can always act inside of history. One can always follow the path determined y history. Ernesto Guevarra could easily have become a successful Physician healing the rural poor. But few can act outside of history. Or more to the point, few can act with no regard for their ontological historicity because their every action (re)creates it every moment, in every breath.

As I said, “there has been a substantial transformation in Humanity’s mode of existence due to the transition from an industrial to a post-industrial economy. And this transformation encapsulates the arguments of Benjamin and places them within a specific socio-historical context that we label the ‘past.’ ” The very basis for authentic action has shifted. The world historical ‘come from’ is something wholly new and unique to our age. Any attempt to understand the basis of human agency without placing it within this socio-historical context will only be a partial analysis.

It is this shift in the very basis of ontological potentialities that alter the potentials for authentic action. Zay and I both seem to agree that the authentic exists within experience. In the final analysis we find there is nothing beyond experience. I am therefore I think, is a better way of looking at the situation. Thought is just an experience, it is not a mode of being. How one thinks is determined by ones mode of Being. Ones mode of Being then determines one’s experience.

However, the shift in the soil upon which and in which that experience is rooted determines how the experience is experienced. For authenticity is based in moments of direct unmediated experience. It is the action taken by that pre-linguistic self that knows and thus acts. This is highly separate from the inauthentic being who thinks and then acts based upon thought. ‘I think therefore I am’ may well have caused more damage to Western thought than the loss of the the library at Alexandria.

To base ones actions upon thought rather than raw experience is to place a filter on true understanding. In thought all the sensory world becomes like nothing as it slowly reduces to signs and signifiers falling further and further away in a sea of referents. To reclaim that original experience becomes an imperative. To reclaim that original experience is to reclaim the soul. That first breath of air or gush of wind. To find that place of action and understanding that we had before language made us forget. That is the path towards authenticity.

Language is an amazing technology. But too often and too easily do we become ensnared in its mesh and rather than determining the course of language, we allow language to determine our actions. Benjamin’s notion of the Authentic in light of Mechanical Reproduction begins down the path and then gets caught in the trap of its own linguistic structures. It becomes unable to see the very thing it critiques causes the entire field of reality to shift. The very basis upon which we act has shifted due to the rise of the photograph and the film and the many technologies that came after. We have undergone numerous paradigm shifts in the intervening years. And as a result we must be ready to look at the potentials of authentic action from within a wholly new conceptual framework.

Subway thoughts

Monday, April 3rd, 2006

The 20th Century philosopher Martin Heidegger made an important observation when he spoke of ‘Being’ as a verb rather than a noun. Being, the basic unit of existential analysis ranks next to ‘Self’ in importance. Or rather they are one and the same thing. Form and function become indistinguishable.

Heidegger’s texts formally understand this in terms of the discursive tools he uses to construct his arguments. He takes the reader through a journey and demands of them not a passive understanding, but an active engagement. Process determines product. Theory is derived from practice.

Trocee and I have been going back and forth about the role of verbs and verb tense in relation to culture, awareness and consciousness. The basic subject has to do with the relation of verbs and verb tenses in language and how they serve as a reflection of that culture’s understanding of the world. As a result then, one might be able to map a relationship between language, culture, cultural production, and possibly individual action.

Heidegger’;s claim of being as verb and being as noun is often misunderstood by speakers of English. The German language denotes a verb by the use of a capital letter at the beginning, just like we do with proper nouns. (I personally prefer a little impropriety in my nouns, but that is a separate post.) As a result an everyday German understanding of language,when translated into English takes on an esoteric metaphysical quality. ‘Being,’ ‘Capital ‘B’ Being, and so forth. This common misunderstanding obfuscates the essential meaning that Heidegger is trying to make, life is action. The form coexists with content in a mutually necessary almost symbiotic relationship. Heidegger further placed an emphasis on context, an element ignored by his French readers who came to be known as the Existentialists. So we have an evolved network of relationships. Form, content and context all inform react to and guide one another.

Why does this matter?

It matter because this is life. This is how we live. We are placed in a context(born), and we react and interact with it. This is also theatre. We have a text(content), performed(form) within a given place and time(context). When I write about minimalism or lyrical humanism within the context of a networked meta-theatrical setting I am already creating that theatre through the use of hyper links, common cultural references, tags and so on.

If I mention the most beautiful sun set ever, I have helped create that for you in your mind by referencing your memories locking onto my words in an attempt to understand and we begin to break the fifth wall. When we go see Dorothy’s Mash-Up Theatre we will be experiencing a live, whole and contained theatre event. But we will also be experiencing contemporary music trends, hip-hop, the theatre blog world, visual art, technology and so on. And on.

Endless associations.

Endless associations that feed in on themselves. It is truly a web. But not a mere object. It is a living thing. It is information evolving like and organism. A thought becoming aware of itself.

Just as the work of Plato, in a sense, did not become fully realized until Derrida’s deconstruction of it, so too does information not become alive until it has the proper technology to live its content and make concrete the associative networks it has always operated under. All that is left is to package it and sell it like Cola.

Oh, wait. Someone did.


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