Dark Matter

Answering the first question about a production that made a choice not to represent something in naturalistic detail, a production of A RAISIN IN THE SUN that I participated in my last year of college comes to mind. I won't go into a whole synopsis of this show, but a huge part of the story is the fact that the head of their family, Big Walter, has passed away and they are all awaiting his insurance money. The other day in Meisner class, Stacey mentioned a "private audience." A private audience is the person who we are always performing for (trying to prove something to). She challenged us to ask ourselves that question in future work. Well, Big Walter is definitely a part of almost every character's private audience in RAISIN. The set for that show was very naturalistic with a working stove, kitchen sink, and a fridge that actually stayed cold. Big Walter is such a big part of that show, despite the fact that he never actually appears, so the production staff was torn as to how to represent him on stage. Would they hang a large picture, almost GLASS MENAGERIE-esque, and have him loom over everyone or just have a small picture that the family could refer to from time to time? Ultimately, they chose the latter and I believe it was much more effective because when the insurance check actually comes, Big Walter's wife, Lena, realizes it doesn't change anything. He's still gone and $10,000 doesn't change that. Every person in the family believed their future lied in that check, a check that their father basically worked himself to death trying to achieve. There was no need for a large picture of Big Walter. Big Walter was EVERYWHERE.

I don't quite know how to answer the second question about the representation of the Holocaust. On one hand, I believe the problem with a representation such as THE BOY IN THE STRIPED PYJAMAS is that it makes the horrific actions of The Holocaust dark matter. We don't really see what's going on in the camp. We only see how it's affecting a family and a little boy's relationship with his friend; however, I also think that approach is quite effective. You see how blind the father is to his contribution to wickedness, the mother's guilt but lack of action, and an innocence lost because of it. It made me think, "Am I that blind and socialized to horrible things that I do? Could it end up hurting those around me?"

I don't actually think there's an effective way to represent the Holocaust. Referring back to the 2 laws of representation, it always conveys more and conveys less simultaneously. If you choose to show how it affects a particular family, group, people, you neglect the others of those. I suppose  one could utilize hallucinations or exposition to show other views, but I still don't feel it would be a fair representation. Theatre doesn't show real life. We only show the juicy stuff, so we will never get an accurate depiction of events such as this one. Every piece will always leave the generation viewing it asking, "Why wasn't someone doing something about this?" 

A Disturbance. . . What Would You Do?

An idea immediately came to mind when I read Amanda's post about theatrical disturbances.  I absolutely love the television show What Would You Do?  For those of you who are not familiar with the ABC series, host John Quinones sets up scenes of conflict or illegal activity in public settings while hidden cameras videotape the scene.  The whole premise of the show is to see how bystanders will react as the hired actors do things such as throw homophobic, racist, or sexist slurs, physically abuse someone, leave their child in a hot car, disrespect wait staff, and many more.   Interestingly, they do many variations of the study.  For example, they may start with a man verbally and physically abusing his girlfriend in a public park.  The next study may be that the couple are in less appealing clothing.  The next study may be that the girlfriend is black and the boyfriend is white; and, the next study may be that the roles reverse and the girlfriend is the one physically abusing her boyfriend.  As the experiment goes on, psychology professors, teachers, and bystanders watch and discuss the video with Quiñones, explaining and making inferences on the reactions.  The show also makes a point to create scenarios based on issues popping up in the media currently.  Check out the youtube links below and allow yourself to be sucked in to hours upon hours of What Would You Do?

I think that this show is extremely effective.  It can be very touching, but also very disturbing.  I absolutely believe this is a form of theatre.  It does exactly what Artaud and Brecht speak of.  It breaks the convention of the way life is presented.  I think that this television series is a form of theatre of cruelty.  Artaud states in No More Masterpieces that "on the level of performance, it is not the cruelty we can exercise upon each other by hacking at each other's bodies, carving up our personal anatomies, or, like Assyrian emperors, sending parcels of human ears, noses, or neatly detached nostrils through the mail, but the much more terrible and necessary cruelty which things can exercise against us. We are not free. And the sky can still fall on our heads. And the theater has been created to teach us that first of all."  How absolutely right is Artaud when he speaks of our freedom?  Many of the bystanders who watch their own reactions on tape after doing nothing say things like, "I didn't know what to do" or "I was always taught to mind my own business."  Really?  You were taught to mind your own business when you see someone being physically assaulted?  Our society is bound by constraints that we are totally unaware of until we are thrown smack-dab in the middle of a test.  I think that's why What Would You Do? is so powerful.  It puts the audience to the test.  A REAL TEST.  They can remain an audience member and just watch in horror or they can do what Brecht hoped for a become so moved that a part of the scene and make an effort to affect some change.  Either way they are affected.  It think  this also makes this television series a form of activism theatre.  The series is a part of a national network and has to go through a large process to have the ability to even film where they do.  They also are in contact with the police departments so as not to create a disturbance.  It's organized, but also impromptu.  A mixture of an organized protest and and a protest play with the message continuing to be, "Stand up.  Say something.  Do what's right." AWESOME!!!!!

Racial Profiling:
 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDanZpek5iM

Public Abuse:
 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qUXSU1xUXBM

Transgender Children:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HtytuVs-Kks

Memphis, Freud, and C.S. Lewis. . .

I took my first trip to New York my junior year of college with my undergraduate program and saw a bunch of shows! Two shows I can think of that certainly pertain to this assignment are Memphis: The Musical and Freud's Last Session. The first is one that I still consider one my favorite musicals. The world of Memphis was wonderfully executed. I knew when it was night versus when it was day, the period style clothing perfectly suited the 1950's, the accents were wonderful, and the acting and singing were off the charts! After hearing their final number, "Steal Your Rock n Roll," I left the theatre feeling rejuvenated and excited! I could live life fully! I didn’t have the restrictions of segregation and racism holding me back!  I could move to New York and pursue my dreams like Felicia! No one could stop me! No one could steal my rock n roll!  This show definitely created some real emotions within me.  I felt it well into the next day. 

The next day, I saw a play off-broadway in a little black-box called Freud's Last Session. This show centers on a fictional meeting of two real life historical figures: Sigmund Freud and C.S. Lewis. They simply sit in Freud's office, two weeks before Freud's death, and have a discussion about sex, love, and God for two and a half hours. I felt like I was a fly on the wall. It was probably a mix of the black box and the intimate nature of the set. It was a little too "real." I won't lie. I was so tired from the travel, 3 hour production of Memphis from the night before, and the fact that these guys were just talking and talking and talking, that I fell asleep. At a talk-back with the actors that portrayed Freud and Lewis, we learned that this "meet-up" between the two figures never could have actually happened. It was a "what if." The actor who portrayed C.S. Lewis, the famed theologian, actually did no historical research on his character past the point that the playwright set his age. He said he didn't want to think too far ahead. He wanted to portray his character as realistically as possible.

A quote from Robin Soans in "Verbatim Theatre" says, "How is (documentary theatre) different from well-written and well-constructed imagined plays? The answer is: it isn't. The categorization is irksome. Verbatim plays are far more like conventional plays than is generally acknowledged."

          When I think back, Freud's Last Session was almost a documentary drama without the verbatim. It was a mix of the real (the characters) with the "well-constructed and well-imagined" (the meeting of the characters). I now find it very intriguing that the actor playing C.S. Lewis went to such length to only study a certain part of his character's history for a piece of theatre that, historically, never could have happened.

                Memphis and Freud’s Last Session definitely have similarities in that they are both fictional pieces of theatre.  The latter, however, in my opinion, offers a much more naturalistic view of theatre, despite the fact that it’s fictional and not just because people didn’t randomly burst into song.  Like I said, it was almost “too real” and, despite the fact that we know the exchange never could have happened, I think my views of both C.S. Lewis and Sigmund Freud have been affected since seeing that performance. 

Performativity and Those Two Magic Words

The concept of performative utterances can seem pretty simple.  Performative utterances make or change reality.  A priest saying, “I now pronounce you man and wife” is a performative utterance because the man and wife are now married.  A son telling his mother, “I promise to do the dishes” is a performative utterance because the son has done something that he can only do with words:  promise.  The one performative utterance that doesn’t stand out so clearly is the act of apologizing or saying, “I’m sorry.”  

An excerpt from Allan G Johnson’s The Forest and the Trees: Sociology as Life, Practice, and Promise states that apologizing is a performative act because it implies anacceptance of another’s emotions and/or an acceptance of fault.  For example:

I talk behind my friend’s back about her new haircut

She overhears my conversation

She becomes angry and says (performatively), “We are not friends anymore.”

One way to get myself off the hook and return our relationship to normal would be to say, “I’m sorry.”  Through those two words, I am really saying, “I accept your anger.  I accept that I was wrong.”  My friend could then perform her own performative act by saying, “I accept your apology.”  We then go back to being friends, making that exchange performative because it changed reality.  We went from not being friends to being friends.  

Quite often, we do not use the words “I’m sorry” as a way of apologizing.  Below is a link to an article by Melissa Dahl entitled Sorry I’m Not Sorry I’m Sorry.  She cites research from Deborah Tannen, a linguist, who explains that, “saying ‘sorry’ (can be) a way of taking into account the presence of another person. It’s not necessarily a way of accepting fault or blame; in other words, it’s focused out.”  An example of this is, “I’m sorry, but do you have the time?”

Other examples of non-apology apologies are, “I’m sorry about your father’s passing” where one is expressing sorrow for another’s situation without accepting fault for the situation or “I’m sorry, but those shoes are hideous” which merely uses “I’m sorry” as a sarcastic introduction to one’s statement or “I’m sorry you felt that way,” which actually renounces fault through the guise of apologizing.  

I think that the reason “I’m sorry” is used in anunperformative way so often is because we all know that those words have power.  How often do we crave for the one who hurt us to just utter those two words, to accept their fault, to quell our anger or sadness?  Consequently, because we are aware of the diffusing power of “I’m sorry”, we use it to make a mean statement not sound as bad (“I’m sorry, but. . .), to hold on to one’s pride without making an enemy (“I’m sorry you felt that way”) or so the lady on the street won’t think you’re about to mug her (“I’m sorry, but do you know where 6th street is?”).

http://nymag.com/scienceofus/2014/06/sorry-im-not-sorry-im-sorry.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-apology_apology

Performativity and Those Two Magic Words

The concept of performative utterances can seem pretty simple.  Performative utterances make or change reality.  A priest saying, “I now pronounce you man and wife” is a performative utterance because the man and wife are now married.  A son telling his mother, “I promise to do the dishes” is a performative utterance because the son has done something that he can only do with words:  promise.  The one performative utterance that doesn’t stand out so clearly is the act of apologizing or saying, “I’m sorry.” 

An excerpt from Allan G Johnson’s The Forest and the Trees: Sociology as Life, Practice, and Promise states that apologizing is a performative act because it implies an acceptance of another’s emotions and/or an acceptance of fault.  For example:

I talk behind my friend’s back about her new haircut

She overhears my conversation

She becomes angry and says (performatively), “We are not friends anymore.”

One way to get myself off the hook and return our relationship to normal would be to say, “I’m sorry.”  Through those two words, I am really saying, “I accept your anger.  I accept that I was wrong.”  My friend could then perform her own performative act by saying, “I accept your apology.”  We then go back to being friends, making that exchange performative because it changed reality.  We went from not being friends to being friends. 

Quite often, we do not use the words “I’m sorry” as a way of apologizing.  Below is a link to an article by Melissa Dahl entitled Sorry I’m Not Sorry I’m Sorry.  She cites research from Deborah Tannen, a linguist, who explains that, “saying ‘sorry’ (can be) a way of taking into account the presence of another person. It’s not necessarily a way of accepting fault or blame; in other words, it’s focused out.”  An example of this is, “I’m sorry, but do you have the time?”

Other examples of non-apology apologies are, “I’m sorry about your father’s passing” where one is expressing sorrow for another’s situation without accepting fault for the situation or “I’m sorry, but those shoes are hideous” which merely uses “I’m sorry” as a sarcastic introduction to one’s statement or “I’m sorry you felt that way,” which actually renounces fault through the guise of apologizing. 

I think that the reason “I’m sorry” is used in an unperformative way so often is because we all know that those words have power.  How often do we crave for the one who hurt us to just utter those two words, to accept their fault, to quell our anger or sadness?  Consequently, because we are aware of the diffusing power of “I’m sorry”, we use it to make a mean statement not sound as bad (“I’m sorry, but. . .), to hold on to one’s pride without making an enemy (“I’m sorry you felt that way”) or so the lady on the street won’t think you’re about to mug her (“I’m sorry, but do you know where 6^th street is?”).

http://nymag.com/scienceofus/2014/06/sorry-im-not-sorry-im-sorry.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-apology_apology

Performance and the Job of the Audience

Reading a bit of Peter Brook's The Empty Space and going on to read Marvin Carlson's What is Performance? made me begin to think more about this connection between performers and their audience.  Carlson speaks of the many definitions of the word "performance" in his introduction, one of them being, "the general success of an activity in light of some standard of achievement."  He goes on to say that the task of judging the performance is not the responsibility of the performer, but of an observer.  This struck me.  As an actor, I’ve been taught that this disconnect exists between performers and audience; that the way to become the best actor I can be would be to build that fourth wall up really thick and to completely forget about the audience, act as if they do not exist, be in my “own world.”  If I’m asked how I performed in a show, I think about myself, not about the actual “performance”, the whole, if we will.  Is this definition of performance true?  I suppose, if I think about it, only an “outsider” or an audience member can truly judge a whole performance.  They may say, “They performed well” or “It was a good performance.”  Does it matter what, I, the actor feel?  I find myself asking this a lot, particularly, in class when I hear, “That didn’t really drop in” or “That wasn’t alive.”  What if I felt it was alive?  What if I felt it drop in?  Does it matter what I think if I’m not the audience?  If the audience didn’t feel it?  Do we really train in an effort to become better performers?  What does that mean exactly?  Is training for me or is it to more easily convince an audience member of my performance and, therefore, perform well.  I don’t know, but all of these questions without concrete answers brought me back to another quote made by Carlson on page 2 of his introduction in regards to “sophisticated disagreement.” Carlson never truly defines performance and gives us a bit of a warning that he won’t with this quote he shares from Strine, Long, and Hopkins regarding performance as a concept.  Participants of this conceptual “sophisticated disagreement “do not expect to defeat or silence opposing oppositions, but rather through continuing to dialogue attain a sharper articulation of all positions and therefore a fuller understanding of the conceptual richness of performance.”  I suppose it will just take some more thought.