Archive | November, 2011

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A Report from the Latest Edition of The Current Sessions

Posted on 30 November 2011 by Jeremy M. Barker

Yin Yue Dance Company's "We Have Been Here Before." Photo by Paul B. Goode.

Sitting in the audience at the Wild Project Monday evening, watching the nine dance or movement-based presentations that comprised the latest edition of The Current Sessions, I couldn’t get over the glaring discrepancy between the quality of performances (mostly fantastic) and the questions they were asking and approaches they were using artistically (very conservative and easy). So much great young talent, so much selling themselves short.

I don’t want to make too much of a point of it–these are anything but definitive examples of the artists’ work, since The Current Sessions is designed to give a platform to work developed in under six weeks. In other words, it exists to encourage experimentation and risk taking. But that’s exactly why I was so disappointed. I never mind seeing someone fail to achieve their ambitions–it happens all the time, it’s how you learn, and it’s so interesting to see how they they push themselves, to see where they want to go. But broad humor, easy jokes, sentimentality, comic imitations, and thematically literal interpretations of pop songs? Gets old fast.

There were, however, two big stand-outs that bucked the trend.

Allison Jones's "Listen to Me." Photo by Nir Arieli

The first was Allison Jones‘s duet Listen to Me, performed by Hayley Jones and Amir Rappaport. I actually saw another piece by Jones a couple weeks ago at Wave Rising and was unimpressed. It felt really predictable and by-the-book. But in Listen to Me, Jones, in collaboration with her dancers, has done some extremely interesting work. The concept is pretty straight-forward–a dialogue between two women–but translated into movement, what we get is a richly developed, very personalized vocabulary, counter-pointed with more tradition movement. The contrast between the two is fascinating, the former revealing a sort of internal state, the latter suggesting the exterior. The interplay was fascinating to watch and the performances were really rich.

The other stand-out was choreographer Yin Yue, who closed the show. Part of the success you could maybe just chock up to sheer bravado: instead of a solo or duet, like every other piece (aside from the two video contributions), Yue put five dancers, including herself, onstage.

A huge part of the strength of the piece, We Have Been Here Before, was the scope of the composition. Most of the rest of the work had a passive relationship to the space, but Yue brought a draftsman-like approach to choreographing her piece, creating multiple lines and differing perspectives that largely worked in a cramped space (the Wild Project is a beautiful theater, but it’s a wee bit narrow for a lot of dance, and definitely for larger companies). While the group work was often formal without slipping into academicism, it was in the solos and other isolated moments within the choreography that Yue brought forward very personal movement touches, a couple times with a fascinating emphasis on the hands.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair for me not to call out a couple pieces. The second video piece, SARA, by Jordan Isadore, was actually very interesting, offering a clever exploration of gender and identity through performing routines like musicbox figurines. Also, Jonathan Royse Windham is a fantastic dancer. His Oh! Darlin’, a quick romp set to the Beatles that traces a guy’s relationship with his teddy bear over the course of a lifetime, was cute and definitely earned its laughs, but mostly I was just impressed with Windham himself, who demonstrates amazing power and grace as a dancer from the opening, a silhouette of him posed in an extension. It doesn’t surprise me to learn (or actually, be reminded–I think I’ve seen him before in her work) he’s a dancer with Andrea Miller’s Gallim.

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Shen Wei Takes Over the Armory (& the Rest of a Very Busy Week)

Posted on 30 November 2011 by Jeremy M. Barker

Little Lord's "Babes in Toyland"

Well, December is upon us, and the last burst of energy in everyone’s fall seasons is playing out–it feels like–this week. There’s a lot to see (more than we’re going to get to), all worthy of attention. Here’s a brief list of openings we won’t be making or short-run shows we want to make sure you hear about before it’s too late.

Peter Jacobs/The Assistant Theater, SAND at the Chocolate Factory (through Dec. 10; tickets $15). It’s been way too long since I’ve been up to Long Island City to visit the good folks at the Chocolate Factory. This week, the new theatrical presentation by long-time New York director-performer Peter Jacobs opened. A sci-fi influenced drama, the work promises to be visually stunning and intellectually engaging as Sand leads audiences through worlds of unreality and referential meaning.

Susan Eve Haar, Sex in a Coma at HERE Arts Center (through Dec. 11; tickets $18). This is one I actually hope to get to see next week, but it’s opening for a two-week run this Thurs., Dec. 1. Playwright Susan Eve Haar has woven a strange, torn-from-the-headlines story into an exploration of science and identity. Inspired by the story of a guy who raped a comatose woman, Haar offers up a much more complex Romeo and Juliet-esque portrait of love, obsession, and identity, extrapolating from cutting edge science the idea of what self is like in a comatose state. Sound intriguing? Well it’s directed by and was developed with legendary director Lee Breuer.

Shen Wei Dance Arts, Undivided Divided (& other works) at the Park Avenue Armory (through Dec. 4; tickets $35). It’s undeniable that the sheer scale of the Park Avenue Armory is both a daunting challenge and a fantastic opportunity. But  choreographer Shen Wei knows something about scale, having choreographed part of the now legendary opening ceremonies of the 2008 Olympics. The result of a year-long creative residency, in Undivided Divided Wei’s company will taking over the entire space of the armory to offer a performance that appears both deeply personal and grandiose in scale. In addition to the new work, Wei will be presenting both his version of Rite of Spring (2003) and Folding (2000), a pair of works that helped establish his reputation. It’s also worth pointing out that a mere two weeks later, Elizabeth Streb is presenting a new work at the Armory, so get your tickets soon.

Little Lord‘s Babes in Toyland at the Brick (through Dec. 10; tickets $18). The cheeky ensemble behind Jewqueen and (oh my god i am so) THIRST(y), Little Lord’s Babes in Toyland is billed as a “recession spectacle,” a low-tech, made-by-hand affair that makes the most of our current era of austerity. And yes, it has a certain holiday synergy about it. Produced by Culturebot contributor Jane Jung, it promises to be a fun evening in the madcap absurdist vein of Charles Ludlam.

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Andy’s Random Reviews from New Opera to Afrobeat

Posted on 30 November 2011 by Andy Horwitz

Wow. I apologize – I’ve been so busy  that I’m completely behind on writing up reviews. So here are a few of the things I saw over the past two weeks.

On Saturday, November 19th I had a really fun and interesting night. First stop was The Kitchen for Robert Ashley’s “opera” That Morning Thing. I had no idea what to expect but I was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was really enjoyable. I had assumed that, given that it was originally created in 1967 and rarely performed, it would be some kind of dissonant, atonal, cacophonous assault on the senses. What it turned out to be was a very interesting, slightly surreal, music-performance-movement-lecture hybrid unfolding in three acts and an epilogue. I’ll be honest – I sat down to watch the show and dropped my pen, thus prohibiting my note-taking process. If I had written this up that night, like I intended to, this would be an in-depth thoughtful review. But time has passed and its all a bit fuzzy. As I recall, the first act, “Frogs”, was a lecture given by “The Speaker”, basically dealing with the difficulty of communication and somehow tying this together with frogs. The men – a chorus of men – sang a repeated refrain of “one, two” in a limited range of tones, the women – a chorus of women – moved in deliberate patterns across the stage. They were dressed almost identically and wore glasses that lit up with LEDs. It was a beautiful and kind of funny stage picture.

Act II, “a Cool, Well-Lighted Room” was comprised of a synthesizer player who riffed throughout the scene, The Singer and The Dancer.  The Singer was performed by the ever-captivating Imani Uzuri who brought a soulful playfulness to the proceedings, even while intoning “one, two, three” across a limited range of pitches.

Act III was called “Four Ways” and a character named “The Director” – who was in fact performed by the actual director, a gentleman named “Fast Forward” – gave people directions. Literally. The Women would ask him for directions – “How do you get to Times Square?” and he would answer them, with commentary. But as it went on it got increasing absurd, out of control and funny.

Finally the piece concluded with an “Epilogue” in wich the chorus of women entered the audience and encouraged us to participate  in the performance by repeating a number of phonemes from the sentence “She was a visitor” broken down into bits. At first it felt a bit dated, but soon I grew to like it – there was something innocent and magical about it, the naive faith in the participatory, the breaking down of boundaries, the implication of the audience in the performative event. I imagine that it must have really freaked people out in the 60′s.

Overall it was a really great piece – a bit of a history lesson, but all the more satisfying because it held up over time and seemed to renew itself in the moment of being performed. It didn’t feel musty, just familiar, but in a good way.

After That Morning Thing I headed up to Harlem Stage to check out the 10th anniversary of Jump n Funk Live, acclaimed DJ Rich Medina’s groundbreaking international Afrobeat dance party, featuring live music by the band Zozo Afro Beat with visuals by The Marksmen. I hadn’t been to the Gatehouse in ages and I was happy to realize how easy it is to get there. Usually I don’t get up to 135th St., but it is pretty easy to find and it is a great venue. We got to the Gatehouse and checked our coats, headed up to the main room where the party was in full swing. DJ Rich Medina was spinning great tunes – funk, soul, afrobeat – and soon the house – only about half-full but people were starting to arrive – was dancing and getting happy.

Brad Learmonth (prog. dir. for Harlem Stage) & Friend with DJ Rich Medina (background)

After about an hour Zozo Afro Beat came on. I counted at least 12 people onstage, not including dancers. They were amazing!!! The room kept filling up and soon everyone was jumping and jiving to the beat. I’m not that familiar with Afrobeat music in general, I had a friend in college who was really into Fela, and I used to really like this guy Foday Musa Suso, but generally it is not the first thing I turn to. I think that might have to change!! The hypnotic riffs, the syncopated beats, the punchy/funky horns – I couldn’t stop dancing even if I wanted to. I danced to the bar and back to the floor, I just had to get my groove on. And let me tell you, those of you who know me, I’m not exactly a dancing fool. But this was definitely a fun time and the real deal. I had a great time – the room is warm & welcoming, easily accommodating both dance and music performance, the drinks were inexpensive, the staff was super-friendly, the crowd was diverse in age, ethnicity, gender and everything else. It reminded me of the good old days of Body & Soul when it was at Vinyl – good music, good energy and good people.

Here’s the band, Zozo Afro Beat:

Zozo Afro Beat

And here’s one of the dancers:

After the show I was danced out and exhausted and I dragged myself home, still floating on the good times. I don’t know if Harlem Stage has any more of these events planned, but you should definitely sign up for their email list and check out what they’ve got coming up! In a weird, small-world kind of situation, I checked out a Harlem Stage flyer only to discover that Imani Uzuri, who I had just seen featured in the Robert Ashley opera at The Kitchen, will be performing at Harlem Stage on December 10th! It is called Imani Uzuri’s MOSAIC and it is a “sacred music extravaganza” featuring a line-up of kick-ass woman vocalists from  many world traditions. It looks like it is going to be really great – so mark  your calendars for that!!!

On Tuesday November 22nd I made it to the Elebash Theater at the Graduate Center at CUNY for the most recent installment of Live At 365, the world music series curated by my pal Isabel Soffer. The evening featured Persian vocalist and musician Azam Ali and her band. It was a really magical evening. Ali and her band wove together a concert of lullabies and folk songs from across the middle east, adding in some original compositions with digital effects, backbeat, electric guitar, etc. It as kind of trance-y and mystical, like the kind of music you might expect from an artist on 4AD back in the day when they were all Dead Can Dance spooky and stuff. (I  AM SO OLD!!!!) But anyway – it was a super great night. If you haven’t been you should definitely check it out. The Elebash is a really nice, intimate hall with a great sound system. And like I have said before, Isabel is one of the best programmers in this town. She’s been doing world music for over 20 years, she knows her stuff and she is always bringing it to NYC. Go to Livesounds.org and sign up for her email list so you know what is going on.

Then we had Thanksgiving (I saw the movie Margin Call! So awesome. Check it out) and I even had 2nd Thanksgiving (Thanks Derek and Mary!) and then it was the weekend and I saw another movie (Into The Abyss, also really good) and finished writing that essay that everyone has been reading (thank god!) until we got to Sunday when I went to the Storefront for Art and Architecture to see Harrison Atelier‘s Pharmacore: Architectural Placebo. Fascinating intersection of architecture, design, concept and and choreography (BTW  - who coined the phrase, “Writing about music is like dancing about architecture”?).  Anyway – the show was choreographed by Silas Riener and performed by Reiner along with other Merce Cunningham Dance Company members Rashaun Mitchell, Jamie Scott and Melissa Toogood. Cunningham dancers are just so darned good! Beautiful to watch, precise, focused, lithe and surprising. I’m not sure what the whole thing was about – something about placebos and the creation of a kind of test/lab environment, with the idea that perhaps the performance we’re watching was referencing an actual performance, but was just a placebo/simulation. Not sure. But it was very cool and the Storefront has all these door/sculpture things that spin around and open onto the street, so people kept stop and staring in. At one point two little girls wandered in, onto the stage, and started looking around trying to figure out what the heck was going on and why these strange people were dancing around! It was funny and added a wonderful layer of accidental intervention to the whole thing. OH! I remember – I wanted to give a special shout-out to Loren Dempster, who did the sound design/music, which was really, really good. He played cell and ran it through his laptop to process the sound and it turned into this lush, rhythmic, tuneful but also distance and sometime dissonant soundscape. Doubleplusgood.

Okay so then it was Monday and now it’s today and I’ve got a lot more work to do. And I’m going to try another big-ass essay on some big-ass idea. Maybe more reviews will come. This week is kind of light, but we’ll try and keep up.

Thanks for reading! Keep the comments coming!!

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Diana Szeinblum’s ALASKA in HD at BAM

Posted on 26 November 2011 by Andy Horwitz

Back in 2003 I was fortunate enough to be working for Mark Russell at PS122 and got invited to accompany him to Austin, Texas for the Fresh Terrain Festival, which was kind of a beta-test for what would become Under The Radar. Fresh Terrain was my first exposure to a really great European-style arts festival and the line-up was exceptional. I’ll always be grateful to Mark for giving me that exposure and opportunity – not only that but he was incredibly generous in talking to me about the work afterwards. One of the works I got to see at that time was Diana Szeinblum’s Secreto y Malibu – to this day one of the most stunning performances I’ve ever witnessed. In 2008 I was fortunate enough to see Ms. Szeinblum’s Alaska at DTW. If you haven’t seen her work, now you can, in HD, at BAM on Mon, Dec 5 at 7pm.

The promo copy says:

Named after a place that everyone knows but no one has been, Alaska is a sensual dance-theater portrayal of memory. Choreographer Diana Szeinblum uses dark humor, extreme physicality, original music and a minimal set to create a beautiful spectacle that gravitates between uneasy stillness and violent frenzy.

Don’t miss it - Mon, Dec 5 at 7pm  BAM Rose Cinemas, (30 Lafayette Ave) $20; $18 for BAM members.

Here’s a teaser:

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Visual Art Performance vs. Contemporary Performance

Posted on 25 November 2011 by Andy Horwitz

With Performa having recently concluded and in the wake of the Marina Abramovic kerfuffle at the MOCA gala, I have been giving a lot of thought to the difference between visual art performance and contemporary performance – more specifically, Time-Based Art with its origins in dance and theater. This is an ongoing obsession of mine and one that I feel needs to be addressed critically. Thanks largely to RoseLee Goldberg, who literally wrote the book on performance art, the visual arts world has “rediscovered” performance in an unprecedented way. Unlike RoseLee, it seems that many of the visual arts curators currently working to promote visual arts performance lack knowledge in contemporary performance, and I think this presents a problem, as well as a challenge.

At the moment, Independent Curators International is offering a workshop on Curating Performance that features a group of teacher/advisors drawn entirely from the visual arts world who don’t appear to have backgrounds in contemporary performance. I find it surprising that ICI couldn’t find – or weren’t interested in finding – a single representative of the contemporary performance sector. And then I started thinking about who they could have approached and I realized that the number of performance curators who can speak eloquently and thoughtfully about why they program what they do is few and far between. Most of the curators I know are reluctant to speak about their criteria and aesthetic frameworks. I imagine this is one reason why the Institute For Curatorial Practice in Performance at Wesleyan was created. I have reached out to both ICI and ICPP for syllabi and reading lists to compare/contrast. If and when I receive those materials, I will write an addendum to this post. For now, rather than focus on the different curatorial perspectives I would like to share some of my subjective responses and thoughts related to the difference between visual art performance and contemporary performance.

In the past two weeks I have had several substantial discussions about this topic, two of which stick out for me. The first conversation was with one of New York’s most esteemed artistic director/curators and the other with a prominent director whose work has spanned both avant-garde performance and mainstream theater. From the artistic director I was told, “The visual arts world hates craft, they’re seeking ‘authenticity’,” suggesting that when a visual artist stages a performative event it should not have any degree of artifice, that it be perceived as “real”.

The director I spoke to said that the visual arts world, somewhat understandably, finds theater laughable and as a result rarely studies it. While I share the visual arts world’s distaste for popular theater predicated on “psychological realism”, I lament the fact that there are many, many devoted practitioners of contemporary performance who are as dramaturgically engaged in the construction of their time-based work as visual artists are in creating the intellectual framework around their object-based work, and that this is, apparently, not recognized or valued by the visual arts world. It is as if when visual artists and curators “discover performance” they think that they are the first to ever encounter the aesthetic issues it proposes. It would seem that they are frequently unaware of – or indifferent to – the fact that there is a long history of performance theory; that theater, and especially dance, have for many years explored issues around presence, embodiment, presentational aesthetics, the observed/observer relationship, the visual presentation of the constructed environment, the semiotics of representation, etc., etc. The visual art world might be surprised to read Hans-Thies Lehmann’s seminal writing on post-dramatic theater. They might be surprised to be exposed to the work of Rich Maxwell, Philippe Quesne, Cuqui Jerez, Xavier LeRoy and others who work extremely hard to create rigorous stagings of “the real” – who use artifice to create an experience of the real that is almost indistinguishable from the “real thing”. Or the work of Annie Dorsen who, in using computer programs and simulations, completely undermines the notion of “the real” itself.

I don’t know a lot about visual arts curatorial practice, but I have seen my fair share of both visual art performance and contemporary performance and the lack of meaningful dialogue between the two practices is troubling.

While Performa has taken the long view on visual art performance, tracing its development over the past 100 years or so, I think that when most people talk about performance art from a visual arts perspective they are referring to work that traces its precedents to the 50s through the 80′s, after which performance art fell more or less out of fashion. This may be ascribed (I’m just winging it here, but its a theory) to the rise of solo performance from a performance background – Karen Finley, et al - being labeled Performance Art and a desire by the visual art world to distance itself from that aesthetic.

There’s a revealing interview with Roselee Golberg on artinfo in which she says: “First, I think that artists who’ve never worked with performance before, they really almost don’t know where to begin” and then:

They haven’t dealt with things like performance rehearsals, they haven’t dealt with things like auditions, they haven’t dealt with things like lighting….Then there’s the next layer of questions I ask, where I’m really the guinea pig, I’m the audience member. If I’m going to walk into this room, what is it going to feel like when I walk in? What is the room going to look like? Is there going to be sound right away? What kind of feeling do you want people to have? I spent all these years thinking about performance, looking for all these things that did work or didn’t work, and I feel like that’s my role sometimes, to be critical.

Earlier in the same interview she says:

I think what Performa did was suddenly say, let’s dream up another kind of artist performance, and let’s give visual artists who maybe have never made this kind of work before a chance to create something extraordinary that is the equivalent of beautiful work that we are seeing in galleries and museums, and not backwards-looking material that seems to be getting further and further in the corner in a way and being very much about ‘70s and ‘80s and so on.

The basic idea of artists creating performance that is equivalent to the work in galleries or museums is a compelling proposition – but at the same time it suggests that only those artists identified as visual artists who are entering – naively and lacking practical knowledge and historical background – into the world of performance, are going to be making that work.  It largely ignores the signifcant body of work being created by time-based artists for whom performance is their primary discipline and does nothing to raise the value and perception of that work. To me this is problematic.

Ideally I would love to see Performa acknowledge even more work by time-based artists – directors, choreographers, ensembles – who are creating, on a regular basis, contemporary performance. That seems unlikely, in which case I would like to see the world of Contemporary Performance engage in parallel strategies to those of Performa and work harder to elevate the valuation and perception of staged or site-based performance work. Rather than the chaotic mishmash of APAP season festivals, I can imagine a new festival that ties together the most forward-focused work from UTR, Coil and American Realness under one umbrella with thoughtful dramaturgy and academic panels.

So what are some of the differences between Visual Art Performance and Contemporary Performance?

First I would suggest the notion of context and infrastructure. Visual Art, historically, is about the creation of objects – paintings, sculptures, photographs – that can be sold. One impulse behind Visual Art Performance was the rejection of making objects for sale in favor of creating non-commodifiable, ephemeral events that were meant to critique and undermine the capitalist structures of the art market. Some artists, like Marina Abramovic, have managed to commodify that work in retrospect, completely abandoning any pretense of anti-capitalism, in fact becoming major players in it. (Cue the MOCA Gala kerfuffle).

Since Visual Art has historically been about the creation of objects for sale, there is a massive infrastructure in place to create value around objects – museums, galleries, academics, journals, etc. Artists create with an accompanying intellectual framework and  put their art into the marketplace where it is contextualized by critics, academics and curators. This helps create perceived value. If it gets into a museum show, it raises the value. If the artist works assiduously to hone their public image and awareness of their “brand” the value continues to rise. Objects that were created, essentially, without value beyond the cost of materials, become more prized due to scarcity and a sort of symbolic connection to a larger cultural framework. This art object is then bought and resold over time, with the hope that it will continue to rise in value. Artists rarely share in the resale revenues of work that has significantly appreciated in value, but that’s another story. The Visual Art marketplace is, in a way, as pure an expression of capitalism as one could imagine. The irony of the art world’s frequent embrace of leftist anti-capitalist ideology is not lost on me.

The recent rediscovery of performance by the Visual Art world could be viewed, cynically, as the latest fashion in a milieu that mostly values the new and the “edgy”. Tino Sehgal is a laughable choreographer, but he’s a brilliant businessman. And the art world, to be frank, is somewhat masochistic. They love nothing more than someone who can fuck with them in a novel and ingenious way. The fact that Sehgal has monetized abstraction and ephemerality is a stroke of genius. He has taken advantage of the thrill-seeking impulse of the hyper-capitalist art market and managed, like a financial services whiz, to turn the mere idea of a performance into money. Brilliant.

I propose that when most visual artists come to performance, they are still thinking within the framework of object-making. They may be engaging with concepts around experience and representation, but from a perspective of bringing visual art to life in the time-based world using the techniques and tropes with which they are already familiar. They may not be concerned with the study of movement and embodied presence, of the craft of performance or the  challenges of the created environment. In contrast, Contemporary Performance as a genre has its roots in theater and dance. Experimental, to be sure, but rooted in explorations that are primarily focused on the performative event itself.

I’m no fan of traditional theater. That’s my background, but I long ago tired of the limitations of psychological realism and conventional narrative. I can see why people from a visual arts background might find it less than compelling. But the world of Contemporary Performance has long since distanced itself from “drama” and practitioners of contemporary performance should be acknowledged for the work they do. Dancers and choreographers train for years, and continue to train every day, to master their bodies, enabling themselves to do extraordinary things. They deeply explore the nature of movement, the way bodies moving in space convey different meanings and experiences, point to different ideas. Directors work with dramaturges to develop intellectual frameworks around the experiences they create, around how to integrate the visual and auditory experience with the performance, how does all this point to ideas beyond the performed event? How does the physical representation of ideas on a stage or at a site loop back to the concepts with which they are engaged?

One difference, I think, is that time-based artists working in contemporary performance frequently think about, as Goldberg puts it, “What kind of feeling do you want people to have?” – something that is new to visual arts practitioners. This may seem like a mild distinction, but it is key. Performance practitioners are experience-makers, not object-makers, and as such they are concerned with human engagement. Directors, choreographers and other performance-makers may be engaging with making manifest the inner life of human beings, defining the space between audience and performance as a shared field of intersecting subjectivities. And this means that we’re not only talking about thoughtful, detached examination of intellectual ideas, but, sometimes, feelings. This is where it gets tricky because what makes Traditional Theater so abhorrent to many is the unseemly focus on feelings and emotion. I’ll admit, I think there is nothing more awful than having to sit in a theater and watch some actor “act” the words of a playwright who is blatantly and unsubtly trying to evince an emotional response from the audience. In this day and age the provocation of an emotional response that doesn’t feel obvious or unearned is exceedingly difficult, and artists who are able to do this effectively are few and far between.

That being said, if a visual artist is making work in the context of creating objects for sale, it does not seem like a stretch to suggest that the framework of objectification will translate into the practice of visual art performance. In the visual art context, the body is an object to be manipulated like any other, or it is a canvas upon which the artist can project their desired meaning. If that body becomes more than object, it complicates the essential aesthetic transaction of the visual art experience. The attribution of feelings and emotions to a human being creates the possibility of empathy, moving the body from a field of abstraction into one of subjectivity. [Note: while discussing this essay with a friend of mine I was directed to the work of German philosopher Hans-Georg Gadamer and his study of hermeneutical aesthetics. I am only starting to research it, but it is brilliant, fascinating and relevant].

The Abramovic installation at the MOCA Gala appears to have been, based on after-the-fact accounts, objectification taken to its extreme, with human beings serving as literal centerpieces at the dining tables of the wealthy and privileged. From what I understand from performers’ accounts online some were subjected to mockery and ridicule – for instance, a pile of salt arranged like a line of coke in front of the immobile performer – and generally put in an unenviable position. I’m sure that some of the performers had a very different experience, and only those who were in attendance can speak authoritatively, but from my perspective the premise itself borders on disgusting while being emblematic of the values of a hyper-capitalist art market.

So in brief – I am proposing that visual art performance, generally, is predicated on the objectification and abstraction of the human body, whereas contemporary performance – Time-Based Art with its origins in dance and theater – is more frequently predicated on the creation of a subjective field of experience – what I will call “experience design”. The aesthetic challenges of integrating light, sound, visual representation and embodied presence – sometimes even text – into a Gesamtkunstwerk are undertaken not to create a “living object” but to create a shared experience.

So while both visual art and performance contexts rely on the vision of an artist, the path to the desired end result is different. The visual artist comes from an object-making context and approaches their work under that influence, whether by embracing or rejecting that paradigm. Contemporary performance, more often than not, actively acknowledges and celebrates the essential ephemerality of the form. The artwork exists only in the moment in which it is perceived, the audience has a role in the creation of the work itself, each performance and expression is unique depending on who is there to experience it. No two performance events are ever alike – and that is part of the beauty of it. Contemporary Performance events are rarely thought of as objects for sale, or as advancing an artist’s ability to create objects-for-sale. Maybe that should change – that’s a longer discussion for another time.

I will also propose that the practice of art-making in visual art performance versus contemporary performance is reflective of the object vs. experience framework. Performance, even from the most dictatorial choreographer or theater maker, is essentially a collaborative process. In order to bring a performance to life one requires the collaboration of directors, writers, composers, dramaturges, actors, lighting designers, set designers, technicians, programmers, videographers, choreographers, dancers, etc., etc. Visual art making is less frequently like that. Traditional visual arts practice is that of an artist alone in the studio or a master artist overseeing poorly paid laborers hired to fabricate objects under their direction. This method, I surmise, translates into visual art performance, where the same practices hold. Rather than collaboration, there are workers engaged to implement the singular, exacting vision of the artist. So we see a fundamental divide in both the practice of art making and in the theoretical constructs surrounding the creation of any given work. Yes, there are artists working in spectacle-oriented performance – Robert Wilson, for example – who are notoriously dictatorial and exacting. Never having been privy to Wilson’s practice I can’t say how collaborative he may or may not be. But I would imagine that even he must work responsively to the input of his co-creators.

Obviously this is a vast generalization. There are visual artists working with food experiences, community-engaged practices, etc. who defy the framework I’m suggesting. My concern is that for those visual artists engaged specifically in the making of “performance”, the disdain for craft and the disinterest in artists already working in contemporary performance not only results in subpar work being celebrated by the arts market and visual arts infrastructure, but continues the ongoing devaluation of contemporary performance from dance and theater makers.

This is a complicated issue – one which is far too much to fully engage here. Kaprow-style “happenings”, Chris Burden being shot, etc. are experiments in “the real” that become more problematic when “re-performed”. Nina Horisaki-Christens explores this idea in a recent essay in the ICI Journal where she discusses the Visual Art world’s discomfort with “script”. She says:

In his recent musings in Artforum on the future of Trisha Brown’s work, Douglas Crimp posits that her signature solo Watermotor, as performed by Brown, is a masterpiece. He then follows up by inquiring, “Will it ever be danceable by anyone but Brown?”  The question is not so much will it be danced by anyone else, as Crimp was likely aware that it would inevitably be performed by another at some point, but would it be danced as expressively and imaginatively by anyone else other than its maker. In Performance Art this seems to be the crux of the question of authenticity: can the work reach its full potential, retain its essential meaning and character, when performed in a different context or by a different individual?

It is such an interesting – and flawed – paradox. I saw Watermotor performed by Neal Beasley last spring at DTW (now NYLA). It was beautiful and extraordinary. Was it the same as watching Trisha Brown do it herself? Probably not. Does it make it any less authentic? Not in the least. Here is Deborah Jowitt on Beasley in Watermotor:

In 1978, with Watermotor, Brown unloosed the inborn wildness that her earlier plain-jane structures had been reining in. You can see her dancing the solo in Babette Mangolte’s black-and-white film, projected on the DTW lobby wall. Galloping, twisting flinging her limbs into moves and countermoves, she’s a marvel of ribbony obliques; this dance could pass through the eye of a needle. It’s fascinating to see the terrific Beasley perform the piece. He’s a small, muscular man—supple but taut. His Watermotoris less about cool liquid than about molten metal that has to be worked fast before it hardens. There’s no accompaniment but the sound of his breathing. The virtuosic performance lasts about two-and-a-half minutes, and we cheer. Beasley calmly rode Brown’s bronco of a dance and didn’t fall off.

I would suggest that Visual Art’s obsession with authenticity has less to do with respecting an artist’s original intent and more to do with an inherited predisposition towards protecting ownership. Once again this is a larger conversation than can be explored fully here and now. (Maybe someone will give me a grant so I can study this more deeply. LOL.)

The larger point I’m making is two-fold. First, visual art performance, because of its object-based origins and the field’s obsessions with “the real” and “authenticity” rejects craft and discipline. This is problematic because, frankly, it results in a lot of very bad performance. Second, because the visual arts world has a value-creating infrastructure, this bad performance is more highly valued in the marketplace than Contemporary Performance by time-based artists with origins in dance and theater. Performance work that is more sophisticated, thoughtful, challenging and virtuosic is de-prioritized and devalued in favor of unpracticed – but “real” – performative events created by visual artists.

There was a time when both visual art and performance valued craft. Times have changed. Experimental artists in both disciplines are uncomfortable with artifice, reject the obvious falsity of “psychological realism” and seek new modes of engagement with the public. The problem is that they do not share knowledge or even dialogue around their respective practices, aesthetics, goals and strategies. The Visual Art world has no incentive to value contemporary performance, because their work will remain remunerative regardless. Though I would like to see more visual artists reach across the fence to time-based artists and engage them in a collaborative process, I’m not optimistic. If that is not going to happen, then it is time for Contemporary Performance makers to actively re-contextualize their work and for the arts infrastructure to develop strategies for creating value around experience design. Curators, administrators, critics and artists must work together to create a value-appreciation structure that will situate performance predicated on experimental dance and theater in the wider arts world, and identify ways to either leverage or recreate the visual arts model.

Unfortunately I don’t have the time or money to go to grad school or take any of these curatorial workshops like ICPP or ICI, and as I jokingly said before, it is unlikely that I will get some kind of grant to actually research and write on these topics. I’m just a working stiff who has had to figure this out myself as I go along, self-educating as I go. This is only predicated on my life experience, not book learning. Like Michael Kaiser says, I’m just an amateur who needs to be properly instructed by the anointed Brahmins of High Culture. So who knows? Maybe I’m totally wrong. What do you think? What is your experience either lived or studied?

Please discuss in the comments section.

Popularity: 28% [?]

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Democracy, Art & Critics, or, What Happens to Important Stuff If There’s No One to Call It Important?

Posted on 22 November 2011 by Jeremy M. Barker

By Flickr user jontintinjordan

Today a correspondent of mine in London pointed out that my response to Michael Kaiser’s lament for the dying critic-cum-lambaste of the Web was linked to in the Guardian theater blog’s Noises Off column. For that, as always, the entire staff of Culturebot heartily thanks you (even as we note that virtually no one clicked through the link to our site). But since this story has taken on legs of it own, percolated through the theater interwebs, and is no doubt about done generating interest, I decided to take a moment to address something I thought about while re-reading what both Andy and I wrote.

The problem with “debates” like this on the Internet is that they’re not really debates at all. What usually happens is someone says something either provocative or stupid, which leads the performing arts blogging community to flame them for a few days, and then let the issue lie fallow again. So, since no one really brought this up, I thought I’d bring it up myself.

When I responded to Kaiser, I argued that the mindset he represents is, essentially, an elitist one. He’s upset that there are no critics of unassailable credibility anymore who can define work that’s worthwhile. I certainly think what I said was spot on, that really what he’s lamenting is that the cultural leveraging associated with the rise of the broad middle class in the 20th Century is ending. As a broad segment of society moved into a higher socio-economic class, they clamored for a higher level of sophistication, which was enabled by a broad array of cultural institutions–museums, regional theaters, book prizes, so on and so forth–that together curated the experience of what they defined as “culture” for the masses.

But now we’re an entertainment-oriented and highly atomized consumer society. We no longer aspire to broad shared tastes, and the institutions that supported those efforts have been suffering accordingly.

In other words, something very democratic happened: instead of the broad classes internalizing a sense of inferiority to an elite, the broad classes simply developed their own tastes and interests. Rock music, pop, film, television all became the bedrock of the shared American experience. And generally, we all agree that democratization is a good thing. The problem is that it devalues the arts. Once the middle class consumed culture–including things like theater–in emulation of the upper class; now the middle class’s tastes define culture.

This presents a problem for people like theater makers. Where does the stage actor, designer, the playwright, fit in? This is one of the problems that, in the broader theater blogosphere, I see getting hashed out all the time. How can theater be relevant? Is it an elitist art form? Who are the audiences and how do artists speak to them? (Well, I’m usually the one asking that one.) But if you’re following me at this point, you probably see where I’m going. That’s the broader theater blogosphere, populated mainly by playwrights and directors who make work they could and would like to see on a regional theater stage, or maybe a quality Off-Broadway house. Those people are worried about being elitist.

So what about us? What about the stuff we talk about at Culturebot?

We don’t even use the term “theater” that often; we talk about “multi-disciplinary performance.” As I write this, our homepage includes features on Pan Pan’s deconstruction of Hamlet, a lengthy interview about “Lecoqian performance methods,” and a defense of a show in which an old man walks around incontinent for an hour-and-some in front of a large painting of Jesus Christ. We endorse “anti-acting” while criticizing “psychological realism.” And if that wasn’t elitist, obscure, and high-arty enough, we cover contemporary dance. An often non-representational, non-narrative art form that virtually no one pretends to understand. Look, in the last year, we’ve reviewed several dance performances, featuring amazing dancers, that purported to be about nothing more than the joy of movement. And somehow we found some bad and others great. How can you have good dancers dancing for its own sake and yet somehow one is good and one is not?

I’m amazed that no one reading Andy and me calling Michael Kaiser an elitist didn’t snarkily try to complete the introduction between the pot and his good friend, the kettle. The work we support is work that is not necessarily made for broad consumption. Or at least, it’s seldom made with a mind to being accessible in the same way that mainstream work is. Now, leaving aside a few exceptions, I don’t want to suggest that the artists we cover seek to be purposefully obscure. Almost all of them believe that their work can provide a meaningful experience to even novice audiences. But it’s undeniable that at some level, they’ve chosen not to compromise their work by actively seeking to make it as broadly accessible as possible. At its best, this work wants to talk about something for which other forms, other aesthetics, simply do not work.

So the question I suppose I’m putting to myself is, how can I not share Kaiser’s outrage with the democratization of discourse when the very art forms with which this site is so concerned seem to require just that sort of authority? I don’t harbor a lot of faith that if Yelp somehow compelled Yelpers to flood shows at PS 122 or Danspace Project in order to play critic, like they do at restaurants, that the results would be pretty. You’d get dozens of people complaining about the facilities, and how incomprehensible the work was, with a few mixed-in comments about how some part of something was cool and hey, at least you got to see boobs. The percentage of people who stumbled upon something they knew nothing about and who left transformed and deeply excited about this sort of work would be small.

I honestly don’t have a good answer. Partially I’m certainly just responding to reality–the democratization of cultural discourse has already happened, so what can we do about it? Or I could point out that part of what we do here at Culturebot is attempt to de-mystify the art we cover. But I know that de-mystifying work is not enough. Adventurous people willing to subject themselves to work like this all run the risk of eventually seeing that one piece that really moves them and sucks them in, the one that despite a lack of extensive engagement with the form they “get,” that speaks to them on a deep level. But realistically, I know that the biggest barrier to work like this is a lack of literacy in its forms. The shows people instinctively “get” are few and far between; most shows wouldn’t have that affect on audiences, which means that the richnesses they do have can be completely lost. In other words, this work can be harder to digest than other fare, which means that the more engaged the audience member–the more of this sort of work they see–the more they wind up enjoying it. But you have to get them into the theaters.

So on one level, I do appreciate Kaiser’s point. Authoritative critics and a sense among the public that they needed to be familiar with this or that to be in-the-know always makes things easier. I just don’t think it’s relevant to our current moment. The real problem is, how do you engage and encourage new audiences today? Don’t you need a critic to help parse things, to point out that no matter how weird it sounds it you, you’ll probably enjoy the Rude Mech’s Method Gun or Nature Theater of Oklahoma’s Romeo and Juliet or ERS’s GATZ (even though it’s seven hours long)? And if you like that, well, let’s check out Radiohole, or Forced Entertainment! And to say, yeah, I know you don’t like dance, but you should totally check out Miguel Gutierrez’s Last Meadow, it’s not what you think.

My only hope is that somehow, someway, our work helps, through the enthusiasm we show for the work that deserves it, and the various efforts we employ to get people interested, either through reading the artists explaining their processes so that the work doesn’t seem so impenetrable, or just getting to see video and images of the often breathtaking results. But I admit, it’s very tricky. Democracy is majority rule, intolerant of difference, and in a critical capacity will try to impose the broader culture’s tastes on everything it touches. That’s problematic when it gets applied to work that is inherently trying to challenge or oppose the assumptions of that broad culture.

At the very least, those of us trying to navigate these treacherous waters don’t need an overpaid arts administrator slagging us down because the process that begat us made his job harder.

Popularity: 3% [?]

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John Jasperse’s “Canyon” Starts Strong Then Staggers Weakly to a Close

Posted on 17 November 2011 by Jeremy M. Barker

“I know this is going to sound just cheesy, but joy is something that is superproblematic.” So said choreographer John Jasperse, in Gia Kourlas’s Times feature from last weekend, of the ideas he wants to explore in Canyon, which opened last night at BAM as part of the Next Wave Festival (through Nov. 19; tickets $20). Based on the results, it’s hard to argue with his sentiment.

Canyon opens spectacularly. The scenography (by Tony Orrico, who spends the show rolling around inside a box and laying down tape on the floor) is mostly a matter of DayGlo neon tape–orange and yellow-green–which snakes throughout the entirety of the Harvey Theater, from the lobby and down the aisles to the stage itself, where it playfully coils and loops in geometrically strong lines around the patches of disrepair on the upstage wall that give the space its air of glamorous decrepitude. The effect is sort of like AutoCAD vomited its 3-d modeling all over the place, the clean grid lines breaking down and careening wildly, like a drunk driver in Tron. The stage itself is cleverly divided up by a big, white Marley that angles from down-left to up-right, where it curls up in a little two-foot-high ramp. The small orchestra providing the score is situated in the back corner up-left.

As mentioned, the opening is definitely the show’s highlight. The company of six dancers (including Jasperse) kick it off by running in from every direction only to halt and leap up into the air, or extend, or kick, before shifting direction and rushing off. Sometimes these are solos, sometimes duets, sometimes much more complicated group work elegantly timed to capture, through movement, the same careening energy as the audience sees in the design.

But after maybe 15 or 20 minutes, all the urgency, geometric play, misdirection, and, indeed, excitement, seems to drain out the piece as the tempo shifts from allegro to adagio. There’s nothing wrong with a shift like that–in fact, the result can be quite dramatic–and for quite some time after I found myself engrossed in what Jasperse was doing.

The dancers had planted some five golf flags down-right, forming a sort of circle or square, which the choreography came to fixate on. Individually, one dancer after another would stagger and stumble across the stage to this space, where a sort of epiphany seemed to happen, their movement shifting from staccato to legato, allowing for a long, elegant solo.

I have no idea what these moments were about, but I was impressed with Jasperse’s pacing and willingness to really engage almost studiously with these moments, to let us really take them in and experience them. But then, well, nothing really happened. Almost entropically, the sense of order and energy and purpose in the piece sort of falls apart. It got downright boring and even doze-inducing, and then, to my surprise, it just ended. At 70 minutes it falls solidly within the standard duration for an evening length dance, but it wound up feeling short by virtue of wanting it to finally go somewhere that, ultimately, it seems completely disinterested in going.

I honestly don’t know what to make of it. The title seems to suggest a sort of trek from the heights of the canyon walls down to the floor and the profundity of the empty expanse, but unless my natural geography is totally messed up, I thought a canyon had to have two walls, necessitating a climb back out. Whereas this piece feels a bit like a hiker who gets caught at the bottom and slowly dies of dehydration, staggering on more and more weakly till it can’t keep going and just gives up.

Popularity: 3% [?]

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Why Aren’t Audiences Stupid? (Andy Version)

Posted on 16 November 2011 by Andy Horwitz

I tried to post this as a comment over at HuffPo, but it was too long. So here goes:

“This is a scary trend.” – Really?

God forbid that the actual audience should have a a place to voice their response to a work of art. But maybe that should be restricted to talkbacks? I’ve always believed that art encourages questions whereas entertainment confirms what we already know. The magic of live performance – even the most traditional forms – is that the audience is never really a passive watcher – they are engaged and their response informs the performance. The internet as a forum for authentic feedback and reaction is vital to the growth, development and continued relevancy of the discipline.

As to Kaiser’s lament about the death of criticism – if the commercial media are no longer able or willing to subsidize arts coverage (how many cities actually have a “local professional critic” anymore?) and Kaiser feels that criticism is an essential part of the arts ecology, then why haven’t foundations stepped in to support the field? I’ve run Culturebot.org, since December 2003. Over the past eight years I have met with numerous funders who express their admiration and appreciation of what I do but are unable or unwilling to provide funding. The Andy Warhol Foundation supports visual arts writing including blogs – artfagcity.com has received several large grants – but there is no support for performing arts writers and critics. Because the visual arts world is in the business of creating objects or sale, it recognizes the importance of criticism and writing to creating perceived value around art. The performance world has yet to glom onto that and as a result the work continues to be undervalued.

At Culturebot.org we have provided many, many artists with their first reviews and exposure, we have opened a window into the sometimes murky and non-transparent world of contemporary performance – and the process behind making the work. We have fostered dialogue and become an important resource for curators, presenters, artists and aficionados. Not to mention the support we’ve been able to give aspiring writers and critics by giving them access to artists, performances and administrators, a forum for honing their voice and an opportunity to foster discussion. And we do it for free, because we care about the arts and we want to participate.

Are we amateurs? No. Kaiser’s derogatory use of the term indicates a startling lack of respect for audience members and a lack of knowledge about the composition of that audience. He might be surprised to learn how many people in the audience actually know what they are talking about. Not everyone can afford to get a Master’s in arts admin, criticism, dance, theater, etc. only to come into a job market where your best option is a $30K/year, 60hr/wk job in one of the most expensive cities in the world. Much less take time off from their life to study with Kaiser in the Kennedy Center Fellowship for Arts Management. Thus the established arts infrastructure tends to skew to people who are either willing to live penuriously or have other resources to draw on.

Even fewer people can make a living as an artist.

So the audience for the arts – and the people who are passionate enough to frequent cultural institutions, comment on their sites or start their own blogs – are frequently educated, knowledgeable, committed individuals who, you know, have actual jobs. They are artists and former artists, they are friends and families of artists, they are people who grew up or into an appreciation of the arts for any number of reasons but because of the necessities of making a living are relegated to “amateur” status. Sure there are some ill-informed writers and commenters out there, but as I’ve watched arts writing on the internet evolve over the past eight years I’ve been surprised by the quality of writing, the knowledge of the writers and the vitality of the discussion.

It is, frequently, the programmers and the arts institutions that are completely out of touch with audiences, that make no effort to actually engage audience and communities in the process of making art or curating seasons. The infrastructure is not transparent or responsive to the community. Structured talkbacks are insufficient and if you are a presenter who produces challenging work, you should probably do some kind of humanities program that contextualizes what is being presented, offering the audience a 360-degree view, rather than just demanding that they submit to your aesthetic preferences. This doesn’t happen. Most arts institutions just present what they present as if it was a gift from on high and expect us to appreciate their refined taste and sensibilities. Guess what? Most of us went to college, too! Most of us read, see work, are informed about current events and aesthetic engagement with the world at large, most of us have been art-makers, or writers, or supporters at any number of levels and our opinions are not only important – they’re kind of the only opinions that matter. After all, we’re the audience. And if a tree falls onstage and no-one is there to see it, is it performance?

Kaiser’s article reflects how out of touch many in the arts establishment are with the reality on the ground – it is sad and frustrating. Considering how much influence he has it is a shame that he is so reactionary and ill-informed, so unwilling to affect actual change and innovation.

Popularity: 17% [?]

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Mashinka Firunts and Danny Snelson’s “Semiospectacle Nº 2″ at the IRT Theater

Posted on 15 November 2011 by Jeremy M. Barker

Ah friend rock! What would the incestuous world of contemporary performance be without it? This Sunday, Nov. 20, Culturebot’s own Mashinka Firunts is back in town for a special developmental presentation of her verbal varieté Semiospectacle, co-project with Danny Snelson, at the IRT Theater, a multi-disciplinary performance-cum-poets-theater, “strategizing the aesthetics of discourse.”

To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how to explain it any better, and not just because I haven’t seen a full version of it. But, if I can surmise–Mashinka and Snelson are working with a variety of performers, ranging from tap dancers to musicians to drag/camp, featuring performances of a “video organ,” the education of a new generation of Salomés…all to explore the construction of sign systems with the performance space. Which is a dry and academic way of saying that they’re playing with the idea of spectacle itself, presenting large canvases of images and ideas and text and sound–pretty much any sign system you can imagine–and then deconstructing or live-mixing them in a polysemous cabaret performance that riffs on the constant slippage of signification.

And, you know, tap dancers. $7. Don’t miss it.

Popularity: 2% [?]

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Why Aren’t Audiences Stupid?

Posted on 15 November 2011 by Jeremy M. Barker

Michael Kaiser has an article up on Huffington Post bemoaning how, in the age of the Internet, he can no longer sort the critical hoity-toity from the hoi polloi. Parabasis has a bit to say on the subject, too, but I felt compelled to offer my own two cents.

Originally this was going to be a snarky list of insults based on Kaiser’s anything-but-bulletproof commentary. But I decided against it, because–although I could make fun of the fact that despite making more than a million dollars a year as the president of the Kennedy Center, Kaiser apparently doesn’t know whether they’ve done a good job on a show unless a newspaper writer tells him so, or even how to tell the difference between a good writer and a bad one short of the name value of their publication–there is, in the end, only one problem with Kaiser’s arguments, and it has nothing to do with criticism.

No, the disgusting–and I don’t use that term lightly–truth is that Kaiser’s argument represents a world-view that thinks art is really just a cultural commodity to be sold to audiences, who, in return for suffering through work they often don’t even enjoy, can now claim a sort of sophistication they otherwise lacked.

Don’t be suckered. The idea of the critic that Kaiser laments isn’t the idealized public intellectual he tries to paint a picture of. This “serious” critic of “serious” art is, in the end, providing just another consumer report. This is a deeply important task in the world Kaiser imagines we live in–without a member of the cultural elite defining the value of a cultural good, how are the plebs supposed to know whether the ticket’s worth the cost?

That’s why the thing Kaiser finds truly “scary” is the idea that audiences can now voice their own thoughts via the Internet. Because the audience, of course, isn’t supposed to have its own thoughts. It’s supposed to accept the value of what it’s consuming and, should it find itself out of step with elite opinion, worry about its ignorance, about why it’s so wrong.

Unfortunately, since we’re not living in an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel, this entire idea of the value of art is aging as quickly as the Kennedy Center’s audiences. Back in the day, Gatsby tried to spend enough money to dye his blood blue. These days, even the old money live it up like gauche lottery winners. The idea of cultural sophistication as an important good the middle class needs to consume is waning.

But there’s nothing wrong with that. Make no mistake–the work that suffers in this scenario isn’t important art (important art being of as little importance to bastions of bourgeois sentiment as fun). It’s a middle-brow cultural commodity. It isn’t actually “serious” work at all. Serious work–work that pushes boundaries, speaks to audiences willing to listen, and inspires future generations–will continue to be made regardless of whether newspapers continue to appoint cultural arbiters capable of guilt-tripping the masses into paying inflated prices for middling work.

Michael Kaiser should grow up. Art needs defenders, not more complainers whose high-falutin’ arguments amount to little more than gripes about the fact that their middle-brow, mainstream institutions no longer intimidate people enough. Fear won’t stop the future, anymore than complaining about change helps shape the next generation of cultural institutions.

Popularity: 6% [?]

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