Friday, July 10, 2009

Shoplifting

What happens when you see something you wish you had not seen? The role of theater and literature is often to examine those things we would rather leave under the big, dank rock. As a writer is it possible to write authentically if the experience is not your own? If you internalize it, rather like a method actor event, how does your own story change the pitch (think music, also think cricket as a spectator, yet it is 'so real').

And then there is the issue of validity: did I see it? Did it happen. I think I'm so rational, but when I reexamine the event it turns out my own memories betray me. Can I rely on my own data once I work through this ugly truth. What role does our subconscious play on how we portray drama?

The role of action in a plot set: am I supposed to do anything about it? The event is making my heart twist, but do I actually need to act. If my action causes future problems...blah, blah. I can see all of this in the surface of the dirt...ok clay. Is rendering in the plastic arts any different than in a performative space?

Is it worse when it happens in a family context...what role does context play? Context can make an event personal, but does that add to the experience? And then there is the role of viewer, audience participation as an anthropological take; does the audience change the experience? And post-production cocktail; viewing a dicey event, with commentary by viewers--it certainly spices up the theater in total. How does live theater differ from the stuff elsewhere?

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Production Values

When I noted recently that I differentiate between production values and content I was pleased to get a response ping, although I detected a certain amount of sabor rattling to be more accurate. Sitting in the theater 3-4 nights a week, I feel there is a giant 'bounce' that occurs for most shows depending upon production values.

Why is this? Most of us are not heading out to entertainment wearing our form and analysis mindsets. Onsite evaluation of dramatic structure, pacing and character development is difficult. Somewhat less troubling is the search for good dialogue - it you are yawning by the end of the first scene, it is a good bet that character chat does not reveal character value. Authentic revelations only occur with a certain amount of trouble taken or felt by persona dramatis.

Sometimes a promising show gets a first production in really low rent circumstances and it shines because of the content of the show. The actors and director really produce authentic, believable material. The dramatic ebb and flow keep the viewer riveted, the characters have defined arcs that draw us in, the ending is pure joy. Who cares if they use only a refrigerator box, an athletic sock and a flashlight? This is based on the value of performative art delivery based on strong dramatic content and deserves its own discussion.

The import of quality content is paramount and nothing can replace it. A show that has high value content can succeed on stage, in film, on TV. It can take a small or large venue, it flexes to considerations of setting, timeframe, casting and more.

But what happens when the content is solid, but perhaps stuck in a single locale or era or only works with certain cast members? Bring on the designers! Let's have a brilliant set, costume, lighting and sound design. Smell-o-rama is in and out of vogue, but quite electrifying when used to good effect. Good design features can really pop for the audience and a slightly small show can amaze and delight, even if you cannot remember why over dinner at that cool new place.

But here's the real gist of this post. What happens when you have seriously flawed dramatic material in a design space to die for? Think of TV serials that had the 'look' that gets the viewers, but the story is so preposterous that all those gorgeous bods, clothes, houses, etc. are the same week after week? Or that uber-cool opening night where all the participants have friends in the house to give edge to the performance, but you cannot remember the main elements of the show the next day. It looked and smelled great, but your stomach is growling in the early morning.

A gorgeous gown on a runway model has to look grand on normal me in the middle of a dull winter's day, or it is not worth the price of a value meal at Mickey D's. Those luscious costumes help you hear the music of the setting, you can taste the chocolate cake. But turn off the high def, add a wobble in the image and you keep seeing the crumbs on your couch and decide a good vacuuming is in order.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Channeling the voice of Julia Child

Having breezed my way through Julia's last book (written with her grand-nephew), "My Life in France", I was struck by both her approach to creativity and her sensible thoughts on aging. The connection between those two topics might seem rather obscure, but strong creative practices keep us youthful and flexible and sensible approaches to aging support continued creativity.

Creative life requires resiliency, the ability to adjust goals to fend off defeat and depression; a balanced approach to productivity. Recently a visit to my favorite technology laboratory yielded some lively feedback on where creativity and money making share space. Currently too many business types have bored Gen Y to insensibility with guidance on making money with no commentary on keeping alive creatively.

Julia's adventures with her husband in France framed the beginning of her life as a chef and writer. She embraced French cooking in a manner that literally launched what has become the slow food movement in the U.S. Her discipline and thorough analysis of cooking and then producing recipes revolutionized the structure of cookbooks forever and she essentially created the venue for cooking on television. Her portrayal of herself and those around her as maturing, growing, changing individuals has challenged my thinking on how to embrace the march of time with joy.

I have spent the last several months perfecting my own cooking and have found a new mantra for experiencing life and friends. After years of hiatus from professional cooking I have found a new serenity in the kitchen. The content on the plate is enhanced by the presentation, understanding what went into the preparation. My life as an artist is extended from artistic performance, singing, dancing, designing and writing, to presenting an artful picture that nourishes the spirit and the body.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Those who can, do -- those who can't, teach?

Balderdash - what a way to begin a post! Let's hope balderdash is still in the vernacular and that this stirs someone up. Here's the real stuff: does the teacher stand between the creative artist and the critic? I think the creative continuum has a special place reserved for those wonderful teachers who press artists to produce and critics to critique and learn and help the public learn. But to be fair to those of us artists who hang ourselves out for pot shots, tar and feathering, etc., being taught, reviewed and chatted about can smart. Teachers and critics do some special stuff for those who are crazy enough to present our benighted children for inspection. How can artists keep supple during this hurricane?

As I reinvent myself for a new round of life I am at a crossroad: am I designer/artist/organizer/communicator? I sweat away anon in search of a self. Can we package ourselves, is that choosing a language or hiding out behind a facade?

Saturday, April 11, 2009

The value of professionals

After visiting the set of a certain infamous television show that involves people beating on each other, I had some thoughts on watching amateurs. There has been a proliferation of entertainment (I do not call it art or theater or even theatrical) that is 'reality based'. It involves watching amateurs doing things. Things that require revealing so-called personal information, doing embarrassing or frightening things, being in some sort of moment to draw us in.

Does good production value count enough to gloss over lack of content? Most of the televised versions of reality seem to involve lifelike sets (overproduced for verity) or visits to the real world that are 'managed' by onsite personnel. Interestingly there is a huge amount of process involved in producing these shows, but only one repeated outcome, the same show over and over with different permutations.

How does embarrassment play into the realness of reality? I find myself far too embarrassed for the reality-amateurs to watch. Is this the way I should feel. Am I meant to peek out and shudder but secretly think I can do better? Or are they looking for that 'intensity' that comes with showing something personal that is meant to be kept back.