Saturday, December 6, 2008

Hey Deborah, Do you want to stop for a drink?

I really enjoyed Elyse’s presentation on Deborah Tannen. I knew a bit about Tannen but the report/presentation was enlightening. I feel that her insights into the differences in performance between the genders are over generalized but I think the connections Elyse made to Tannen and performance theory were spot on. Elyse used the Tannen’s example involving a recorded dinner to exemplify how even different regions of the United States “play” by different social rules. It makes me think of this book I read while living in Minneapolis called How to speak Minnesotan. It’s a folksy, Garrison Keiller type book that pretends to be a guide book for non-Minnesotans. In it says that in Minnesota everyone is so polite that they refuse everything three times before they can say “yes”. It’s an extreme exaggeration but Minnesotans are damn polite (Sorry for the diversion).
Michael’s report/presentation about Searle has an interesting connection to English and performance theory through infelicitous speech acts. The idea that dialog from a play is somehow invalid because it is not literal or in an appropriate context seems limiting and highly debatable.
Another report/presentation I learned a lot from was Robbie’s about Bakhtin and the concept of carnival. I have never studied Bakhtin so it was great exposure to something new. I am putting his book Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics on my reading list. I see the concept of carnival closely related to Fanon’s divided-self and W.E.B Dubois’s double consciousness. It is interesting that so much cultural overlap exists. I bet there are other cultures with the same basic cultural criticism.
Overall, the reports and presentations worked out really well. I learned about many different aspects of performance theory. They all have some relationship to the literary arts but also a direct connection to cultural studies.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Ebay and performance

On ebay I am mandymerr with a feedback rating of 698. I have purple star beside my user ID to verify my standing (at a feedback rating of 1000 my star becomes red). I look like thousands of other ebay members. I am the average casual user not a “power seller” or a member with a store front. As I write this description of myself on ebay I am struck by the lingo that is ebay specific. I use these ebay specific words to show I am involved in the community. I am saying I have a role and I am performing in the ebay world.

In many ways on-line performance is much more liberating and freeing than the “real” world performances. In the virtual world one is not tied to their body. They are no one and everyone all at once. On ebay I can come across as a professional seller or as an aggressive loan shark demanding payment. I can be wheelin’ and dealin’ buyer looking for a good price. Actually, I can be all these at once. I can play many roles and I am able to sustain multiple roles because all transactions are private. I find that I am more forceful in my ebay life than I am in the real world. On ebay I am willing to pursue deadbeat bidders, where as I would not act in such a drastic manner in real life. The thing is I am anonymous and more importantly the communication is not face to face. I am more willing to be more extreme in my behavior because there are no (or very few) real life repercussions i.e. I can’t get beat up for bugging a non-paying bidder.

For me the real question about on-line performance becomes - are we allowed more freedom to be “ourselves” in the online world? If so then, is it the lack of physicality that creates this sense of freedom. It seems that someplace like ebay is more like the real world than other online environments, like Simms or Second Life . Ebay is tied to the real world in that the users are buying and selling real items with real money. It is a place for some people to make a living or get cheap goods. It is more real because it has direct consequences for users in their actual life.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Schechner's Cat

I just finished reading chapter four of Performance Studies in which author Richard Schechner discusses the concept of play in the context of performance and beyond. For me it was a little far beyond in some places. As it got into quantum mechanics, the Uncertainty Principle and multiple universes, I failed to see the relationship to performance, at first. That is not to say that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy those pages. Initially, I was just not sure Schechner could connect the seemingly mysterious events that occur only at a subatomic level to culture, society or performance. It seems the cultural phenomenon Derrida describes is a reaction to the strict cultural formulas and artifices that dominated Western thought in the early part of the 20th century. But I don’t see anything that relates to Heisenberg or Schroedinger’s cat. Or is there?
As I think this all through, I do began see a relationship between the Schroedinger’s cat metaphor and performance theory, particularly the observer’s role in the paradox. Briefly and way oversimplified, here is my understanding of the Schroedinger’s cat paradox: Schroedinger proposed a scenario with a cat in a sealed box, where the cat's life or death was analogous to the positive or negative state of a subatomic particle. According to Schroedinger, there is a paradox which implies that the cat (or subatomic particle) remains both alive and dead until the box is opened. Until an observer is present and physically observes the cat (or subatomic particle), the cat/particle is both dead and alive (positive and negatively charged). This can be compared to performance and the theatre in the sense that until the play is actually performed and comes to life, it only exists in a state of flux on the page. The existence of a live audience is what makes it performance. When a group of people acknowledge that it is performance and legitimize it by seeing it as such, it becomes a real performance, just as the observer makes the cat dead or alive.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Is a fish by any other name still a fish?

Stanley Fish’s article, “How to Recognize a Poem When You See One” makes some very interesting points about human perception and art, especially poetry. It is not nearly as important what the artist has in mind (or if it is art at all) as what the audience perceives. This is what makes art (or in Fish’s scenario, poetry). For example, If you are in a contemporary art museum, like the MOMA and you see, say a mop and bucket in a corner with a coat hung over the handle of the mop (or maybe even a urinal). If you sit for a while and observe I bet at least a few people will look for the label with the artists name and the piece’s title. It has to do with context. If you expect a certain thing in a certain setting you find it. In psychology 101 we talked about Gestalt, which is basically the idea that mind will always try to make sense of the world and all the disjointed images by putting them into a cohesive whole. Culturally and socially this happens as well. We come to expect and understand the world in a certain way and we, in our minds magically make it come together as a cohesive whole.

Fish furthers his idea by pointing out that certain behaviors are situational contingent like the example of the student raising his hand in class as a signal to communicate. In America this an accepted and culturally constructed behavior with many understood implications. But Fish says that certain behaviors are only accepted in certain situations. If someone where to raise their hand in, say a grocery store people might think they are stretching or trying reach an item on high shelf. In a church, a raised arm may appear to be a sign of extreme spiritual movement. Again it is about culturally derived construction.

One basic problem I have with Fish’s assertion that “objects are made not found” is that objects are material, have substance and exist, no matter if students are there to interpret it as poetry or art.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Kairos and “Right Measure”

The Kinneavy article "Kairos in Classicaland Modern Rhetorical Theory" quotes Plato as saying, “Everything that is good is fair, and the fair is not without proportion; and the animal which is to be fair must have due proportion.” According to Kinneavy, Plato’s statement gets at the heart of what he calls “right measure,” which is an essential aspect of kairos, along with time and action.

To me, this quote means that everything should be done in moderation (even moderation? — I think Oscar Wilde said something like that). Back to Plato: he is asserting that the aesthetically pleasing is never extreme. It is tempered in the middle. We experience this phenomenon in our everyday lives with people, art, and performance. For example, if an actor shows too much emotion we say it is overly sentimental and he/she is over acting, but if there is too little feeling we say he/she is cold, unfeeling, and can’t act. What is beautiful in performance (and all art) is found in the middle way. Hmmm… This sounds a little like the Tao Te Ching.

Plato gets in trouble because what is accepted in a particular culture as the “middle” changes with time, as popular tastes vary. So then the art of creating something beautiful is always kairotic in the sense that the artist (actor or otherwise) must understand the “middle” that is culturally resonant to the milieu in which he or she is working. Then what about universality? Does it exist?

Another problem with the Platonic idea of “fair in due proportions” is that there is a moral implication to his conception of beauty. This seems flawed to our modern sensibilities, because the moral goodness of someone is not tied to the outside aesthetic but is a separate, internal quality. We would not say that John Merrick (the elephant man) was more evil than, say, Pol Pot, nor that Britney Spears is a better person than Mother Teresa. This brings up a final point: it seems that if ideas of beauty change over time, then ideas about what is morally good must be just as variable.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Reflections on Hamlet in Stratford, Ontario 2008

The first thing that surprised me was the stage. I expected it to be a traditional Shakespearean thrust stage, but it was a semi-circle that allowed the actors to enter and exit into the audience as well as stage right, stage left or at the back of the stage. This flexibility was taken advantage of throughout the play. It created more interest by allowing several actors to enter the stage at once. The set was fairly pared down, which is consistent with a traditional Shakespearean stage. The trap door in the center of the stage was well utilized as a way to quickly dress the stage. It was also a good way to dig up Yorick’s skull and Ophelia’s grave.

The most visible surprise in this production was the costuming choice. The choice of particularly Scandinavian Edwardian era clothes was a clever and unique approach. The costumes looked as if they were stolen from the set of Ingmar Bergman’s film Fanny and Alexander. But we still got to see some of the beautiful Elizabethan costumes in The Mouse-Trap Play. I really thought it worked because during the play I was completely transported to 1910 Denmark. The details were subtle and well thought out.

I know by talking to others on our trip that the quick pace of the dialog threw some of you off, but I enjoyed the speediness immensely. It increased the humor, especially with Hamlet, and created a high level of action in the play that other productions have seemed to lack. For example, the BBC’s Royal Shakespeare Company version of Hamlet from 1980, which I watched in preparation for the trip, seemed to drag on and move so slowly. I realize now that it was due to the speed of the actor’s speech.

In my previous post, I described how I envisioned Act I scene iv of the Stratford, Ontario version of Hamlet to be performed. Now that I have seen the play, I think in many ways, the scene lived up to my expectations but it can never be exactly like it is in my mind’s eye. For example, the fog was used liberally when King Hamlet’s ghost entered, as I pictured it, but I was surprised that he was dressed in a long regal white cape and a crown. I think his Elizabethan-looking royal garb was a little strange in light of the 1910-era costumes though out the rest of the play. Even when we see King Hamlet’s ghost again in the bedroom scene he is wearing an all white suit (that Tacarra said he stole from John Travolta’s dad in Saturday Night Fever). In the Stratford production, Marcellus was portrayed as a relatively flat character hanging around for little more than scenery but I saw Marcellus as more of a developed character who was visibly afraid yet still a dutiful guard.

I am really impressed and I think it was an excellent production of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet. I say this because over the past few days I have been going over scenes in my mind and reliving the experience. Good live theater lingers and stays with you. I even had a dream about the play. During the billiard scene with Laertes and Claudius (Act IV, scene vii), I was in the front row and got hit in the face with a pool ball. I was bleeding and the actors carried me off through the stage.

Friday, October 3, 2008

How I Envision Hamlet Act I Scene iv

The stage is semi-dark stage with foggy mist (if the production budget allows for it). In the middle of the stage a small fire pit burns for warmth. As Marcellus, Horatio, and Hamlet enter stage left, in the distance jovial voices, music and simulated gunfire are heard off stage, signifying Claudius’s all night drinking party. Marcellus is dressed in a medieval uniform, chainmail under a white sheath with the Hamlet family crest on the chest. He carries a large staff with a sharp blade and dons a metal helmet with a metal nose cover extending down the middle. He also wears a dark, thick cape to keep warm during his all night guard duty. Marcellus is visibly afraid but is still trying to protect Prince Hamlet and Horatio by leading the group on stage. Horatio enters behind Marcellus bundled in a thigh length coat and hat that covers his ears. He is also visibly afraid yet alert. Hamlet wanders on stage last, wearing a hooded cape in all black because he is still mourning his father’s death. He is looking around as if in disbelief and confusion.

Marcellus stands on the thrust with his hand on his forehead, eyes squinted, peering in the audience, keeping watch. Horatio and Hamlet stand near the fire rubbing their hands for warmth. When King Hamlet’s ghost appears the three men join together stage left near the thrust. Horatio is praying and Marcellus is looking terrified as they stand behind Hamlet who is down on one knee. Slowly and noisily King Hamlet’s ghost comes down the thrust. He is wearing an open beaver and a chainmail shirt. He says nothing, but stomps and rattles. As Hamlet speaks to the ghost, King Hamlet says nothing, walks stage right and motions for Hamlet to follow him. As Hamlet goes after the ghost, Horatio and Marcellus try unsuccessfully to stop him by pulling at his arms, blocking his path and drawing their swords. Hamlet breaks free by drawing his own sword and pursues the ghost off stage right. Horatio and Marcellus follow him offstage. Immediately, King Hamlet’s ghost re-enters stage right, followed close behind by only Hamlet.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Claudius in Act III, scene ii “The Mouse-trap Play”

At the beginning of Act III, scene ii, Claudius still partially holds onto the belief that Hamlet is mad due to an extreme case of love sickness for Ophelia. After Claudius witnesses Hamlet’s interaction with Ophelia (III,ii) he is convinced that Hamlet is a danger to others, mainly to Claudius, and that Hamlet must be eliminated. Before the play within a play, Claudius is still unaware that Hamlet knows about Claudius’s guilt. By watching the play, Claudius quickly learns that Hamlet is, in fact, fully aware who murdered his father. Claudius and Gertrude are forced to sit and watch the players reenact King Hamlet’s murder, much to their discomfort. At the end of the scene Claudius exits abruptly, proving to Hamlet and Horatio that Claudius is guilty of regicide.

1. (l. 83) This is the first line spoken by Claudius in this scene. He is entering the makeshift theatre with his wife and entourage. He is trying to be jovial and welcoming to Hamlet. As the king he wants to keep up appearances so he would laugh, smile and pat Hamlet on the back. Claudius’ behavior is like sweet perfume that is trying to cover up what is rotten in the state of Denmark.

2. (ll. 101-21) At this point, Hamlet is sitting in front of the King and next to Ophelia. Hamlet is making repeated inappropriate sex jokes to Ophelia and is continuing to play mad (or is he?) for Claudius. Claudius would appear to be very attentive to the interaction between Hamlet and Ophelia. He would whisper to Gertrude and look at her and then to Hamlet and back again. He would even lean forward to make meaningful eye contact with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

3. (ll. 137- 210) During the “Mouse-trap” play, Claudius would at first be laughing and clapping to show he can take a gentle mocking. But as the play-within-a-play continues and becomes an obvious reenactment of King Hamlet’s death, Claudius becomes increasingly uncomfortable. First he is restless, moving in his throne, fiddling with his rings, looking at the reactions of others in the audience, maybe even perspiring a little.

4. (ll. 211-22) In these lines, Hamlet asks Gertrude how she likes the play and describes its “origins” as Venetian. At this point, Claudius is beyond uncomfortable and is getting exceedingly angry. His lips would be pursed, eyes narrowed, face red. Claudius would hold the arms of his throne tightly to show restraint.

5. (ll. 239-49) Claudius has had enough, he stops the play and calls for the lights. He yells, still trying to restrain his anger but his voice wavers as he says, “Give me some light. Away!” (l. 246). He would stand up quickly, wave his hand at “Away!” and stomp off stage left. Claudius would not look back but the rest of the court would quickly follow him off stage.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

The Shakespearian Bookworm goes to Stratford

It is undeniable that Shakespeare draws on the poetic by clever use of meter, rhyme, alliteration, assonance, etc. As Styan points out in his book Perspectives on Shakespeare in Performance, until relatively recently (the past 100 years or so), Shakespeare was studied almost exclusively as a way for school children to learn English and Latin grammar (12). Shakespeare’s plays were eventually studied as strictly text. C.H. Herford describes the approach as “in their literary aspect” (13). In this way the plays relied heavily on footnotes which contain historical context and lengthy background information (13).

With this in mind, looking at Shakespeare’s plays as pure text seems to do the plays a disservice. They are not understood through a multidimensional lens that live performance allows. Additionally, Stylan suggests that theatre is a living, breathing organism that is constantly evolving. He says, “… as long as a play is still being played and witnessed, it is still being born again, still growing, and actors and spectators are helping to bring it to birth” (18). This seems to be especially true for Shakespeare, whose universality has allowed his work to be reborn on a Victorian stage as well as in a 21st century movie theatre.

In an academic setting, reading Shakespeare as text and viewing it as performance are both valuable to the student. In a close examination of the text, the amazing use of language will naturally add to the student’s appreciation of Shakespeare’s work especially in regard to his contributions to the English language. Similarly, viewing a performance will enhance a student’s appreciation of the stage craft and the theatrical nuance that Shakespeare intentionally built into his plays. It is important to understand the cultural milieu that Shakespeare wrote in as well as the contemporary relevance that Shakespeare continues to provide to new audiences.

Sharon Old vs. David Antin in the World Series of Literary Genre

Are Antin and Olds practicing the same genre?
I do not think Sharon Olds and David Antin are in the same genre, but I do think a case could be made either way. The ambiguity lies with Antin. His style is experimental in that he uses no punctuation, which creates a poetic feeling (dare I say Gertrude Stein or e.e. cummings). But, in reality, Antin’s pieces are narrative stories that are more like spoken word in the vein of Spalding Grey or David Sedaris. This style of spoken word is firmly planted in a different genre than poetry. It has the characteristics of an essay or a comedy routine rather than a poem.

The relationship between Sharon Olds and David Antin is that they each have a style that has a theatrical, performance like feel. Olds is working in a more conventional poetic genre, which traditionally is meant to be read out loud. That is not to say her poetry is clichéd or over done within the poetic genre. On the contrary, a poem like “I Go Back to May 1937” is fresh, powerful, and extremely confessional. On the other hand, Antin’s work is personal but on a day to day level. It is autobiographical and self-aware. You gain insight as to how he lives in the world, philosophically and concretely. You know that he
lives in California, is a writer and is married to Eleanor, but you don’t get the depth of his psyche or at least not directly as you do with Olds.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Urban Street Theatre

I am driving home from campus, thinking about our first English 499 class. What is a good example of performance in everyday life? In the midst of my thoughts I see, out of the corner of my eye, a man in a white t-shirt and baggy pants stepping into the street. I think, “He’s not stopping, he is going to walk out into the street in the middle of traffic.” As I shriek to a stop to make way for this aggressive jaywalker, I realize this is a perfect example of performance in everyday life. I hear other drivers honk and yell at the young man, but he repels the jeers by straightening his back with self confidence. I watch him as he calmly and coolly struts in front of the furrowed brows of annoyed drivers, and I almost expect him to take a bow on the other side. Whether he knows it or his drive-through audience knows it, this is a theatrical experience.

The ritualistic performances we play out in our everyday life are tied, in many cases, to the social power structure around us. We collectively buy into the power structure of our society and play our role within it (sometimes eagerly and sometimes begrudgingly). The repetitive nature of ritual as it relates to social hierarchy is meant, in some ways, to desensitize a population into complacency. But ironically, a consequence of ritualized desensitization is that it gives the individual a substantial amount of freedom. At every level, we are free to improvise the role assigned to us and perform within the predetermined power structure and cultural script, just as an actor does not merely learn the lines of a play but has the leeway and flexibility to interpret the character he or she inhabits.

In the United States, the overlying social structure is reinforced through daily performance in a variety of settings. Examples include stopping for police, calling physicians “Dr.,” not swearing in front of mom and even giving a bully your lunch money. Another such setting may be a city street. In this case, the actors are usually young men or women. The scene that they act out is simple enough: a slow, defiant jaywalk that forces traffic to a halt. It is a short performance lasting only seconds, but nevertheless it is a compelling power play against the social hierarchy. It is a power play directed at those who are higher up in the social pecking order. It is a way for the have-nots to assert their limited power as human beings. By jaywalking, they create an unspoken script that says, “I may have nothing, but I am still a living person who cannot be ignored or run over. By my slow purposeful stride, I am asserting all the social power I have, and you must yield!”