Tuesday, May 3, 2011
In The Annals of Checking Your Data Set pt. 2
Americans spend more on going to the arts than on going to the movies. Well gee, that sounds great! Except that more people are actually seeing movies; we're just charging arts patrons more.
On Narrative II: Flat Forms
You gotta read 99 Seats' defense of narrative. A sampling:
And Isaac provides some useful definitions:
As Isaac points out, the definition of narrative we are using is important.
First off, there are two separate questions.
The first is "Does theater need a narrative" in the sense of "Should there be an order of things and connection between them?" Even most non-linear playwrights probably answers that question with "Yes." That's how I feel, even though I tend not to work linearly (although I do write linearly).
The second is, "Does theater need a narrative" in the sense of "Should there be a unity of order and connection?" or, put another way, "Should there be a linear narrative?"
Aristotle had a very clear answer to this, which was yes there should always be a linear progression of time and events. In fact, Aristotle insisted on this to a degree that even the most ardent realists today probably wouldn't insist on today: he wanted the events to unfold in real time, in one place. I mean, there's no problem inherent in that - if I remember correctly, 12 Angry Men progresses that way.
It's undeniable that sometimes a linear narrative is soppy, or unintellectual, or reductive. It's also undeniable that some of the greatest works we have to date have a linear narrative.
So When Does It Work And When Does It Not?
That's the real question. When does narrative work, and when does it not? That's the real question to solve.
Here's my attempt at an answer: when I stage managed for Moises Kaufman, one of the pieces of advice that he gave about building work was that when you have put a piece of work together, the different elements of the piece should not be working together to do the same thing.
If you have a straightforward, linear plot, the complexity should go someplace else. In 12 Angry Men, you don't need to have complexity in time and space; it's still not a simple movie because there's complexity in the 12 relationships on the stage (seriously, track from moment to moment the status shifts and relationships, and you'll realize that your brain is processing a lot), or the constant attempt to reconstruct a scene from scratch. The reason we find a straightforward and linear plot to be insipid is if it's populated by insipid characters, insipid dialog, insipid ideas, and insipid emotions.
Not all linear narratives are straight-forward.
The analogy I would put forward is to the idea of stereotype. In Anne Bogart's essay on stereotype in A Director Prepares, Bogart quite rightly distinguishes between stereotypes that have, as she says, "a fire lit under them," as opposed to flat, useless stereotypes.
The Movement Theater Company, for instance, had an excellent one man show called Last Laugh at La Mama. There were only two characters, played by one actor, and both were gross black stereotypes -- one was a Stepin Fetchit type, and the other was a prototypical "acting white" character.
Stereotypes. But the way they were used in opposition with each other, the use of the uncomfortable laugh, and -- really -- the humanity which Eric Lockley brought them to life lit a fire under them, and made them complex. Even though we sneer at stereotypes in terrible pop culture (e.g. the portrayal of women in James Bond, as a random example) and even though many of us will fight every day to make our characters not stereotypes, stereotype is still a powerful tool.
But to return to 99 Seats' original point: I do still think we should insist on complexity. I do still think we should stand up for the parts of the food we are giving our audience that our healthy. We should try to prepare it well (there's a huge difference between raw greens and greens that cooked well and mixed with other food people like). But I think we're theater bloggers because we want something more.
I've said it before, but I'll say it again: we often talk about the essential importance of theatre and of the work we do, it's connection to our most basic humanity...and bascially say it's like broccoli or brussel sprouts and our audience's palates aren't refined enough to truly savor it. They need to go to culinary school and learn why the things they actually like and enjoy are awful, awful, awful and this other thing is just so much better because they won't enjoy it. And then we're shocked to find little support for our institutions.
And Isaac provides some useful definitions:
(a) "An account of a series of events, facts, etc., given in order and with the establishing of connections between them; a narration, a story, an account."
(b) In literary criticism: "The part of a text, esp. a work of fiction, which represents the sequence of events, as distinguished from that dealing with dialogue, description, etc.; narration as a literary method or genre."
(c) In structuralist and post-structuralist theory: a representation of a history, biography, process, etc., in which a sequence of events has been constructed into a story in accordance with a particular ideology; esp. in grand narrative n. [after French grand récit (1979 in the passage translated in quot. 1984)] a story or representation used to give an explanatory or justificatory account of a society, period, etc.
As Isaac points out, the definition of narrative we are using is important.
First off, there are two separate questions.
The first is "Does theater need a narrative" in the sense of "Should there be an order of things and connection between them?" Even most non-linear playwrights probably answers that question with "Yes." That's how I feel, even though I tend not to work linearly (although I do write linearly).
The second is, "Does theater need a narrative" in the sense of "Should there be a unity of order and connection?" or, put another way, "Should there be a linear narrative?"
Aristotle had a very clear answer to this, which was yes there should always be a linear progression of time and events. In fact, Aristotle insisted on this to a degree that even the most ardent realists today probably wouldn't insist on today: he wanted the events to unfold in real time, in one place. I mean, there's no problem inherent in that - if I remember correctly, 12 Angry Men progresses that way.
It's undeniable that sometimes a linear narrative is soppy, or unintellectual, or reductive. It's also undeniable that some of the greatest works we have to date have a linear narrative.
So When Does It Work And When Does It Not?
That's the real question. When does narrative work, and when does it not? That's the real question to solve.
Here's my attempt at an answer: when I stage managed for Moises Kaufman, one of the pieces of advice that he gave about building work was that when you have put a piece of work together, the different elements of the piece should not be working together to do the same thing.
If you have a straightforward, linear plot, the complexity should go someplace else. In 12 Angry Men, you don't need to have complexity in time and space; it's still not a simple movie because there's complexity in the 12 relationships on the stage (seriously, track from moment to moment the status shifts and relationships, and you'll realize that your brain is processing a lot), or the constant attempt to reconstruct a scene from scratch. The reason we find a straightforward and linear plot to be insipid is if it's populated by insipid characters, insipid dialog, insipid ideas, and insipid emotions.
Not all linear narratives are straight-forward.
The analogy I would put forward is to the idea of stereotype. In Anne Bogart's essay on stereotype in A Director Prepares, Bogart quite rightly distinguishes between stereotypes that have, as she says, "a fire lit under them," as opposed to flat, useless stereotypes.
The Movement Theater Company, for instance, had an excellent one man show called Last Laugh at La Mama. There were only two characters, played by one actor, and both were gross black stereotypes -- one was a Stepin Fetchit type, and the other was a prototypical "acting white" character.
Stereotypes. But the way they were used in opposition with each other, the use of the uncomfortable laugh, and -- really -- the humanity which Eric Lockley brought them to life lit a fire under them, and made them complex. Even though we sneer at stereotypes in terrible pop culture (e.g. the portrayal of women in James Bond, as a random example) and even though many of us will fight every day to make our characters not stereotypes, stereotype is still a powerful tool.
But to return to 99 Seats' original point: I do still think we should insist on complexity. I do still think we should stand up for the parts of the food we are giving our audience that our healthy. We should try to prepare it well (there's a huge difference between raw greens and greens that cooked well and mixed with other food people like). But I think we're theater bloggers because we want something more.
Another Gem from Fedblog
They also gave us this exchange:
Trust me, civil servants have it bad, but it's not pogrom bad.
(yes, that's the story of the town whose name I bear).
Questioner: Six to one is the ratio of contractors to civil servants. Yet civil servants continue to endure public opprobrium. What is your position on the total force structure, and who should be doing the work of the government?
Mullen: Civil servants continue to endure what?
Questioner: Opprobrium. A lot of civil servant-bashing.
Mullen: A pogrom?
Questioner: Opprobrium.
Trust me, civil servants have it bad, but it's not pogrom bad.
(yes, that's the story of the town whose name I bear).
"Mission Accomplished" pt 3
I'm glad as I survey the web that I'm not the only one with a bad taste in my mouth about the post-Bin Laden triumphalism. I won't say much more on the subject, except to point out the photo above, which FedBlog reports as being what the National Security team getting updates on the operation.
That level of solemnity and tension seems appropriate.
Monday, May 2, 2011
"Mission Accomplished" Cont'd
My mother contributed this passage from John Donne's No Man Is An Island:
If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
More Sad News in the Arts
If you need it, there's a round-up at Createquity. It's not all bad news, but there's a lot of closings. For instance, the Philadelphia Orchestra, which is a case study in large and complex balance sheets (run-down here). No debt, over $100 million in assets, and it's broke.
At any rate, it's a reminder of how slowly this financial crisis unfolds. We're used to thinking of it as a single, sharp event -- Lehman Brothers, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, sudden halts, some bailouts, and then the jobs picture turns around in 2010 and we're in 'recovery'.
But nearly a quarter of mortgages are still underwater. At least 14 banks closed in 2011. And as the Philadelphia Orchestra, the Initman, and other closures or crises show, the damage is still creeping through the arts world as well.
"Mission Accomplished"
A look in the time-machine:
Now, I don't happen to think that Hillary or Dodd would have done anything differently. If you listen to Hillary, although she's criticizing him on the issue, what she really says is "of course, if we have actionable intelligence--" before casting the idea of intelligence into doubt, and also, "You may think that, but you can't always say what you think," which is a pretty bold statement of truth.
Anyways, I'm a little bit nauseated by the tone of triumphalism around Bin Laden's death; people continually quote Team America with no sense of irony. I think Obama hit the right tone: determined, acknowledging the progress that has been made, and acknowledging the pain and suffering that led to today. It's progress, but it's not a moment of joy. The moment of joy will come when something positive is built in the place of everyone that has died, everything that has been destroyed.
(h/t RyanNewYork)
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