A couple months I took Mike Daisey to task, a bit, for The Agony and Ecstasy of Steve Jobs. After seeing the show, I wrote this, of how I understood Daisey’s purpose in creating the piece:

[Daisey's] hope, I’d guess, is that this will compel us to do something. Talk about it with others, write letters to Apple (he provides contact info), or even agitate for political change. But I’m skeptical that consumer action against a company can really change things. Call me an unrepentant liberal, but when I look at the world, I generally assume there’s a reason it is the way it is, and if we don’t want it to be that way, we should actually expect things like laws to be in place to prevent the things we don’t like, feel are excessive, damaging, or wrong.

Well, as much as I still agree with my final sentiment (there should be some laws, damn it) my skepticism appears to have been masking cynicism. Here, from Mike Daisey’s blog on January 20 (I hope he’ll forgive me for quoting large sections of it verbatim):

First, if you haven’t heard, during this break in the run at the Public we spent a month collaborating with Ira Glass and THIS AMERICAN LIFE to adapt THE AGONY AND THE ECSTASY OF STEVE JOBS for the radio [...] In its first week the episode was the most downloaded in THIS AMERICAN LIFE’s history. The internet exploded, and the story went everywhere—I received over a thousand emails in just a few days; the response was overwhelming [...] A week after our show was broadcast, Apple made an abrupt announcement. After years of stonewalling and silence, they released the full list of their suppliers, and agreed to outside, independent monitoring of working conditions in the factories they use. It is not everything, but it is a small step down the right road. Details [...] Many news outlets are crediting THE AGONY AND THE ECSTASY OF STEVE JOBS for being a large factor in Apple’s decision. I’ve received a number of emails from Apple employees who have told me they believe that hearing this story on THIS AMERICAN LIFE, a program many Apple employees listen to with their families and their children, created “a morale situation” that finally compelled Apple to begin to do the right thing…

So yup. Looks like I was just plain wrong. Anyone out there who knows Mike Daisey’s email or phone number should tell him I owe him a drink or dinner or something or other. The show has returned to the Public; see here for This American Life‘s episode on the show/Foxconn.

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Maura’s moderating another panel for The Field’s Economic Revitalization in the Performing Arts program on Monday 1/30 at 6:30 at Joyce Soho about How Artists and Presenters Works Together .FREE.

It’s easy to forget that artists and theaters are partners birthing artworks to the world.  So often these relationships can have challenging power dynamics – let’s open communication and get down to business.  How do we work together on logistical challenges, how do we negotiate our needs?

Panelists include: Cathy Eilers, Program Manager at Joyce SoHo; Kristin Marting, hybrid director and Artistic Director of HERE; Brian Rogers, theater artist and Artistic Director of the Chocolate Factory; James Scruggs, theater artist.

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PAJ has published its 100th issue! PAJ 100 features several generations of artists, curators, critics, and presenters responding to the main themes of the issue: Belief, Being Contemporary, Performance and Science, and Writing and Performance. The issue also includes conversations with artists on working downtown, curating performance, and theater/art crossovers. Six artists contribute portfolios of their drawings.

To celebrate PAJ 100 there will be two public events. On two evenings several contributors to PAJ 100 will present their response on important themes in the issue at the SoHo gallery, Location One (26 Greene St., NYC). All programs are Free and Open to the Public.

Tuesday, January 24, at 7:00 pm
Belief – In a world where so many values have been questioned and contested in this era of great transformation on a global scale, what do you still believe in?

featuring:

-Barbara Hammer,
filmmaker
-Gregory Whitehead,
writer & radio producer
-Alison Knowles,
Fluxus artist & performer
-George Quasha,
poet & visual artist
-Lenora Champagne,
performer & writer

Wednesday, January 25, at 7:00 pm
Being Contemporary –
What makes a play, a performance, a piece of music, or an essay contemporary? What does the search for the contemporary mean to the arts and to the public today?

Featuring:

-Joan Jonas,
visual artist & performer
-Linda Weintraub,
curator & writer
-Martha Wilson,
visual artist & curator
-Kenneth Collins,
theater director
-Claire Bishop,
curator & writer

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The New Yorker‘s music critic Alex Ross took the above video as he left the Lincoln Center last night. As he explains in the note accompanying it on YouTube:

From an Occupy Wall Street protest at Lincoln Center, on Dec. 1, 2011. A performance of Philip Glass’s Satyagraha at the Metropolitan Opera has just ended, and in the first three minutes of the video protesters try to get operagoers to ignore the police, walk down the steps, and join the demonstration. Then, after 3:00, Glass recites the closing lines of his opera, which come from the Bhagavad-Gita: “When righteousness withers away and evil rules the land, we come into being, age after age, and take visible shape, and move, a man among men, for the protection of good, thrusting back evil and setting virtue on her seat again.”

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Radoslaw Rychcik's "In the Solitude of the Cotton Fields" coming to Under the Radar this January

I had a moment the other day when a friend told me that the Under the Radar Festival line-up had been announced. Really? I thought to myself. APAP time is already back upon us? It’s not even Thanksgiving yet!

But there you go: indeed, the line-up for the three most anticipated January festivals–scheduled to coincide with Association of Performing Arts Presenters annual confab (Jan. 6-10), for the benefit of presenters and curators from around the globe–are up and available, which means your trusty Culturebot staff will be spending the time between Thanksgiving and the Christmas holiday in a mad rush to get all the information you need to know out there. But for now, let’s take a look at the three that generate the most attention.

UNDER THE RADAR (Jan. 4-15).

Presented as usual with the good folks at the Public, Mark Russell’s UTR has an interesting line-up this year. The centerpiece artist from what I’m seeing is Italy’s Motus. Last year at UTR, the company presented Too Late! antigone (contest #2), which riffed off the Living Theater’s famous production of Antigone. This year, Motus returns with a pair of works. First, their main show is Alexis. A Greek Tragedy. Based on the true story of Alexandros Grigoropoulos, whose 2008 shooting by police in Athens spurred widespread rioting, the show continues the company’s exploration of the idea of Antigone as a paradigm of socio-political resistance. And in a reprise of last year’s show, the company has paired with the Living Theater’s Judith Malina for The Plot is the Revolution, which combines the two companies’ visions of Antigone.

The other three shows that jump out at me are Hot Pepper, Air Conditioner, and the Farewell Speech, from Tokyo’s chelfitsch, the amazing company run by Toshiki Okada (Five Days in March). Gob Squad, whose Kitchen was the hit of last year’s festival, returns with Super Night Shot, shortly before Kitchen‘s run at the Public proper begins. And then there’s Radek Rychcik, the Polish director last seen in New York with Versus – In the Jungle of Cities back at UTR in 2010. I caught the show he’s bringing this year–In the Solitude of the Cotton Fields–at TBA last year and it is amazing. Not to be missed.

PS 122′s COIL FESTIVAL (Jan. 5-29).

So honestly, the most exciting entry this January is PS 122′s COIL Festival, which shouldn’t be surprising considering that it constitutes about 75 percent of their season this year as they begin renovations of their space. Previously, COIL has been heavy on remounts for the visiting APAP audience, but this year its bursting at the seams with world, North American, and NYC premieres. The line-up is incredible. We’ll be having plenty of information on these artists, but here’s the familiar faces: Young Jean Lee debuts Untitled Feminist Show; Temporary Distortion presents their latest (about to open in Seattle), Newyorkland; Heather Kravas reprises her excellent dance piece The Green Surround; and The TEAM finally launch Mission Drift in New York.

But PS 122 is also bringing in plenty of fascinating artists. Lebanese theater-maker Rabih Mroué explores disappearance in a political context. Argentine director Mariano Pensotti explores the last turbulent decade in Argentina in a piece set to a soundtrack by Of Montreal. Every House Has a Door, a co-project of the Chicago-based artists behind Goat Island, finally present Let us think of these things always. Let us speak of them never, which was cancelled from the season last year. And there’s more. Seriously, this year, the COIL Festival is the destination.

AMERICAN REALNESS (Jan. 5-15).

American Realness is the youngest of the January festivals, growing just two years ago out of producer Ben Pryor’s desire to showcase the artists he supports combined with some empty space at Abrons. But it was a hit and last year it even upped the ante, with a stunning line-up that included Keith Hennessy, Miguel Guttierez, John Jasperse, and a remount of THEM. This year the offerings are scaled back but rich (and, perhaps, not yet complete–more might be scheduled in the coming weeks Update: Per AR curator Ben Pryor, the full line-up with be announced Nov. 29).

The big headline event is Big Art Group, who are presenting a new show, Broke House, from Chekhov’s Three Sisters. Trajal Harrel’s Twenty Looks or Paris is Burning at the Judson Church returns to New York stages (and again, I believe, in April, at NYLA). And finally there’s Eleanor Bauer and Heather Lang’s The Heather Lang Show by Eleanor Bauer and Vice Versa, a pastiche of drag performance, talk show, and SNL-esque satire.

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There’s a fascinating article in today’s NY Times about an artists’ class action lawsuit filed against Sotheby’s, Christie’s and E-Bay in order to get compensation for the resale of their work.

Laura Miller, courtesy of the artist and Pace Wildenstein

In a way it ties into our discussion of the Beyonce/de Keersmaeker controversy–when an artist makes work, who owns it? How long do they own it? How much control do they have over its use and/or appropriation, when should they be compensated and how much?

Obviously the visual art system, in which an object is created and offered for sale, increasing or decreasing in value over time, is different than the ephemeral field of live art. But it does raise similar issues. If an artist makes a painting that first sells for $900 and later sells for $85,000 (as happened to Rauschenberg in 1973), does the artist deserve a cut? Or do they relinquish any control over the future use or ownership of the object? Should they receive a fee by a museum that shows their work?

It seems like a Catch-22. If the artist wants to raise the value of their work, they really need to be presented not only by a prestigious gallery but by a museum–after all, that value is predicated on the approbation by elite tastemakers. So they will gladly show their work for free at a museum. Early career artists will gladly sell their pieces to collectors for nominal sums because (a) they need to eat and (b) sales could lead to more sales, could build their reputation or build buzz. So an artist spend their own resources to make a work which they willingly sell at a “reasonable” cost on the off chance it will lead to a museum or high end gallery show, which will raise the value of the work they’ve already sold and don’t make any more money off of! Yes, maybe their future work will sell for more money–but a gallery will take a piece of that, etc. etc. etc. It seems like a raw deal to me.

Here’s a quote from the article:

For many visual artists, the issue is clear. “We need legislation to enact the right to royalties,” said Frank Stella, the president of the International Council of Creators of Graphic, Plastic and Photographic Arts, “and we need to align it with what goes on in Britain and the E.U.” Literature, music, film, computer programming and patents all have better intellectual-property protection than American visual art, Mr. Stella added. The Visual Artists and Galleries Association, a nonprofit group that seeks to protect the intellectual-property rights of artists, also supports a national law.

So let’s see–literature, music, film, computer programming, and patents are all protected, but visual art is barely considered worth it and performance/live art not at all. I guess that means that anything you make onstage that can’t be written as a script and sold as a “play” isn’t a real idea or isn’t actually creative or original and doesn’t merit the protection of copyright or as intellectual property. Nice.

There’s way too much to go into here, so read the article at the Times and comment in the comments!

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Thus far Culturebot has mostly avoided writing about OWS. Not for lack of interest, but because there didn’t seem to be much to add to the dialogue. However, since we pass OWS on our way to work every day, we’ve been thinking a lot about the economy, funding and the arts. We are currently working on a few articles that will illuminate the interconnectedness of artists, funders and Wall Street. In the meantime – and as a way to start things off – we thought we’d bring attention to this very interesting post from the Tides Foundation blog in which they explain, “Why We Support Occupy Wall Street“.

This is interesting for many reasons, not least of which is that Tides facilitates effective grantmaking programs for individual donors and institutions, having granted more than one billion dollars to nonprofits working for positive social change across the globe. And they support the 99%.

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This story has yet to gain much traction in the English language press, aside from a write up in the Guardian (see here for an English language report from French national radio), but right now Paris is playing host to ongoing tête-à-tête between far-right religious fundamentalists and legendary Italian theater director Romeo Castellucci. Since October 20, Paris’s Théâtre de la Ville has presented Castellucci’s latest work, Sul concetto di volto nel figlio di Dio (On the Concept of the Face of God). The show has been touring for a while now, and has already played both Avignon and the Barbican in London this year. The work focuses on a man caring for his dying father, and most commentators have obsessed on the father’s incontinence, which permeates the work (quite literally, the show smells like shit), leaving the son to clean up a shit-smeared floor in front of a projection of a painting of Christ with a inscrutable look on his face.

This use of Christian imagery has enraged far-right religious groups, including members of L’Action Francaise and French Renewal, who, having failed to halt the production via legal injunction on anti-religious discrimination grounds on October 18, proceeded to disrupt the opening night performance. As le Monde‘s theater blog noted in a post from October 21 (translation mine with some help from Google):

A group of young Christian fundamentalists hostile to the show launched stink bombs [in the lobby] and tried to block the entrance to the theater with shouting and smoke. The police were at the entrance, filtering each person who entered the theater, and the curtain was delayed by 45 minutes.

At 9:15, the strangely moving scene between father and son finally began, and the smell of excrement came to cover the stink bombs. But after fifteen minutes, a half-dozen young activists broke off the stands, rushing on stage to interrupt the show. “Enough Christianophobia!” proclaimed their banner.

But what began as a protest has since turned into a full on struggle for artistic expression, as the groups have sought, night after night, to prevent audiences entering the theater and to disrupt the performances. The beleaguered theater is planning legal action against the groups to seek damages, and, in classic French fashion, has published an open letter defending freedom of expression signed by numerous intellectuals (see below for the English version, here for the French and list of signatories), which states, in part:

That these violent individuals and organized groups claim themselves from the Christian faith is their business, that they obey to religious and political movements requires investigation. For us, in any case, these behaviours are clear manifestations of fanaticism, that enemy of enlightenment and freedom against which, in glorious times, France has so successfully fought. Theatre has also very often had a decisive part in these struggles.

But the last performances (the run ends on October 30) promise to be similarly acrimonious. Castellucci himself, in an ironic twist, has issued a statement that, referencing Christ’s own words, reads in part: “I forgive them for they know not what they do … I forgive them because they are ignorant and their ignorance is much more arrogant and damaging because it involves faith.” (see here for the French; translation via the Guardian.)

Members of the same or associated groups gained some notoriety earlier this year when they assailed for the upteenth million time Andres Serrano’s Piss Christ, a copy of which was destroyed by four men following mass protests initiated by Civitas, a conservative Catholic organization, and supported by members of the main French neo-fascist party the National Front.

The irony in both cases is that the art under assault, while not traditionally religious by any means, is not expressly anti-religious, and in fact has spiritual and religious dimensions. As Lane Czaplinski, the artistic director of Seattle’s On the Boards, who has previously presented Castellucci’s work, noted via email: “Not that the protesters in France have any real clue–they’re clearly morons–but Romeo is one of the few artists I know of whose work could be seen to have implications on the divine. Whereas many live performances have seemingly little to do with life as we know it, Romeo’s spectacles cut to the bone and address subjects and states of being with a profundity that could be compared to how religion deals with a similar scope. In a way, the protests only attest to his rare ability.”

Update: According to an article on the website of RFI, French national radio, 20 of the protesters were arrested at the theater last night.

Update 2: Le Monde, the French equivalent of the Times or the Guardian, has an article on the group behind the attacks, “Renouveau français” (RF), or “French Renewal,” roughly, in English. The group behind the assault on Serrano’s work in April, the RF also has a history of anti-gay activism, with actions “against homosexual manifestations, ‘kiss-in’ (kissing in public) and Gay Pride, which they call an ‘anthropological aberration.’ Some of its activists have also been implicated in a racist attack in the 2nd Arrondissement of Paris, in early 2011.” The RF has received vocal support from the likes of Bruno Gollnisch, a National Front politician and convicted Holocaust denier.

Likewise, the group has been supported by and associated with a schismatic ultra-conservative priest, Xavier Beauvais, of Paris’s Saint-Nicolas-du-Chardonnet. “Father Beauvais is not a moderate,” according to le Monde. “It was reported that in May 2009, during a memorial service in his church of St. Nicolas du Chardonnet, that he appealed to the figure of the leader of the Belgian far-right, Leon Degrelle, who sided with the Nazis during World War II. In this sermon, addressed to an audience of right-wing radical militants, against the backdrop of stylized Celtic cross above the altar, Father Beauvais did not hesitate to call [Degrelle] a ‘martyr.’”

Further:

Xavier Beauvais is a figure of the Civitas Institute, which brings together Catholic traditionalists and fundamentalists close to the extreme right, and who presents itself as “a movement whose goal is the restoration of the social kingship of Our Lord Jesus Christ.”

The RF willingly plays the role of “shock group” for the Civitas Institute, which it joined in the demonstrations, taking on the most extreme actions and not disdaining violence. The Civitas Institute has called for a national demonstration in Paris, Saturday, Oct. 29, against the “Christianophobia”.

This event should bring the whole Nationalist Catholic family. RF of course will be present, along with the rest of the French anti-Semitic and Pétainist groups. After the play of Romeo Castellucci, the movement has another show in in its sights in Paris: Golgota Picnic by Rodrigo Garcia, on view from December 8 at the Theatre du Rond-Point.

Update 3 (Sat., Oct. 29): The protests against Castellucci’s play have reached an apex (hopefully) today. Following a rally of approximately 2,000 far-right activists in Paris today, some 300 people march on the Théâtre de la Ville, among them the schismatic priest Xavier Beauvais of Saint-Nicolas-du-Chardonnet, a church that has literally been occupied illegally by ultra-conservatives for three decades, and Alexandre Gabriac, a former organizer for the neo-fascist National Front (FN) party who was booted after photos of him emerged making Nazi salutes. Representatives of a conservative Islamist group, Forsane Alizza, who lent there support. (Via le Monde)
Open letter from the Théâtre de la Ville:

Since 20 October, date of the Paris opening of “On the concept of the face of the son of God”, by Romeo Castellucci, the performances have been critically affected.

An organized group of individuals characterized as Christian fundamentalists, partly claiming to be members of Action Française, have attempted to prevent access to Théâtre de la Ville by blocking the doors, assaulting and threatening the audience, by pouring motor oil, using tear gas and stink balls, while their accomplices having bought tickets, interrupted the performance by occupying the stage and by deploying a streamer bearing the words: “No more Christianophobia”.

They had previously sought by way of justice the banning of the show, a request which was denied on October 18, 2011.

The police must therefore intervene each day at the entrance of the theatre, and we have been compelled on two occasions to summon them indoors to clear those who occupied the stage, the whole thing being handled smoothly, our main concern being to avoid clashes between the invaders and the audience outraged by such actions.

The theatre staff has been deeply committed and effective in these difficult circumstances, and despite the many incidents and interruptions resulting in delays, the performances, so far, have occurred.

That these violent individuals and organized groups claim themselves from the Christian faith is their business, that they obey to religious and political movements requires investigation. For us, in any case, these behaviours are clear manifestations of fanaticism, that enemy of enlightenment and freedom against which, in glorious times, France has so successfully fought. Theatre has also very often had a decisive part in these struggles.

Things cannot remain as they are. Such acts are very serious, and are taking a new, clearly fascistic turn. These groups of individuals also rush to automatically call blasphemous, works which are not directed against believers, or against Christianity. Romeo Castellucci’s intentions as an artist are clearly stated in the house program handed out to the audience.

We do not therefore intend to give in to these heinous threats, and this show will be performed until the end of its season on October 30. We invite the audience to attend, hopefully unhindered.

It is interesting to remark that the work has been presented without any problem in Germany, in Belgium, in Norway, the Netherlands, in Greece, in Switzerland, in Poland and in Italy, and that it is in France that manifestations of intolerance take place.

We are therefore creating a Support Committee open to all people of good will – and this expression is here welcome – to defend – even beyond the work of Romeo Castellucci in Théâtre de la Ville – freedom of expression, freedom of the artists and freedom of thought, against this revival of fanaticism….

Emmanuel Demarcy-Mota and Théâtre de la Ville
October 24, 2011

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Last week, I wrote a sort of “review of the reviews” about Mike Daisey’s The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs at the Public Theater, and offered some thoughts of my own about Daisey’s work. However, I hadn’t actually seen the show, and in the interests of fairness, I went this Sunday to catch the matinee performance. Here are some further thoughts.

First, I have to make clear: most of the reviews tended to split the difference between Daisey’s performance (which they found amazing) and the content of the piece (which they found problematic). I seconded that based on my prior experience of his work, but honestly, I didn’t go far enough. Daisey is a remarkably charismatic performer. Whatever else, there are worse ways to spend two hours and $85 a ticket than in his company. He’s energetic, perceptive, and carefully wanders through multiple layers of performance, deftly handling subtle shifts between narrating in a sort of heightened, literary voicing, to impersonations and imitations, to his no-nonsense, telling-it-like-it-is persona. Funny, compassionate, heartfelt, and moving, there’s a reason he’s won so many plaudits.

Second, there’s an interesting problem any critic faces with Daisey: his monologues are based not on a set text but rather notes and a general outline, with him sort of improvising what’s actually said show to show. Which makes reviewing him a matter of shooting at a moving target, because he can, night to night, internalize and respond to his critiques. In Seattle, a critic accused him of grossly exaggerating the lack of media coverage of worker abuses in Shenzhen, China; at the Public, he acknowledges prior coverage but offers a more detailed critique of the news cycle and the Chinese government’s ability to turn off the tap of information, affecting the entire global system of dissemination. Critics who’ve suggested that his show minimizes what audiences could actually know about such abuses going in have prompted him (I suppose; this is the first time I’ve seen it) to attempt to deal with this fact. He says towards the end, of the worker abuses that produce our gadgets, that “We all know this already,” and talking about our general ability to nevertheless ignore it.

Mind you, I hardly think this ever-evolving approach to his show is a weakness or a dodge. Rather, it’s a strength: here’s an artist who can change and evolve and respond to the larger discourse about his work and furthermore, the things he’s talking about in the work. That’s a great thing for an artist to be able to do, because the work itself becomes a part of–rather than the subject of–a larger conversation.

Still, I left the theater largely feeling my initial point was right. To recap the show, within the performance, Daisey counterpoints two narratives: one is the story of Steve Jobs and Apple, which should be familiar to most people in the wake of his recent death and numerous obituaries. The other is the story of Daisey’s own love of and engagement with Apple’s products, his infatuation and ultimate disappointment in Steve Jobs, and Daisey’s own semi-journalistic inquiries into the manufacture of Apple products, which–along with most (just over 50 percent) other American consumer electronics–are produced in large factories in Shenzhen, China with a long history of severe worker abuses, which he went to investigate first-hand.

The story is much more tech geek than most theater critics seem to have noted. The main transformation Daisey tracks over Jobs’s career is from the initial open-source hacker ethos (he and Steve Wozniak began in 70s by building boxes to hack the long distance phone system) to the “closed” environment of contemporary Apple products. As such, he situates the narrative within the larger intellectual debate about technology, over open platforms and closed ones, and views Jobs’s reversal over the course of his career as a capitulation of his values, which dovetails with his willingness to exploit workers in abusive conditions.

I could point out that there’s a very tenuous relationship between these sorts of values, though. At no point does Daisey actually suggest that young Steve Jobs cared about workers rights or larger issues of social justice. The young techno-utopian turned ruthless closed-system businessman is one story; the abuse of human beings for profitable convenience is another, and despite strenuous efforts, they remain separate except for the broader personal disappointment Daisey expresses in Jobs. Which is unfair. Jobs may be guilty of many faults, but surely we can’t blame him for not living up to Daisey’s (or anyone else’s) false image of him.

But my bigger issue with the piece actually is also reflected in this story of techno-utopianism. Recounting his own embrace of technology (which he claims is his only hobby, in fact), Daisey tells the story of how in college in the Eighties, he did campus security on the night shift as work study, so he could play on the computer. It was during this time he first used the nascent Internet, where he would communicate via bulletin boards with like-minded people around the world, with whom he’d discuss the coming web revolution and the power of disintermediated, free-flowing information to transform the world.

He wryly jokes, “Yeah, we were very young.”

But the big, unanswered question in the piece is, how is the mission of The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs any different? Or at least, why would it work this time?

Again, Daisey acknowledges that his audiences probably do–or should, and definitely could–know about the abuses at places like Shenzhen before coming to the theater. But he proposes that his truth-telling piece will become like a “mind-virus,” infecting us with a desire to change this system. But why is his piece supposed to work, to change hearts and minds, if others forms of news and communication haven’t? Isn’t he guilty of the same naïveté now as then?

In the end, I think people involved in the theater fall into two categories over this issue. There are those who, like me, essentially see this as “preaching to the choir,” or even offering audiences a false sense of accomplishment, by virtue of giving them an emotional investment in thinking about something that they likely will not do anything (or very little) about. Others heartily disagree. Rob Weinert-Kendt over at the Wicked Stage offered the following thoughts:

There’s an assumption on the part of Barker and Brown that the transaction involved in seeing a piece of politically engaged theater is something like: Liberal audience feels good about itself for seeing a show about its own complicity in the misery of the world’s less fortunate, then immediately walks out of the theater, calls cabs, and checks their iPhones. It’s a variation of the piety-ends-at-the-church-door critique, which, being a churchgoer myself, I’m familiar with from both sides. I would question this assumption on two interrelated levels: 1. That theater does nothing to change attitudes or behavior outside its walls, that it’s all literally nothing more than after-dinner entertainment for rich people, and 2. That the activity of watching a politically engaged piece of theater has zero ameliorative value in itself.

I appreciate the point, but I think Rob’s going too far in his interpretation of what I’m saying. I’m not against politically engaged theater. Not at all. But going in, I always want to ask, “Why? Why make this piece? What is it supposed to accomplish?” In Daisey’s case, I think there really is a desire to reconnect us to our means of production, to use an old Marxist configuration. He outright says he wants us to see the blood seeping out of the keyboard of our MacBook when next we boot it up. Okay. Fine. But what is his piece supposed to do about that, besides make us feel bad about it?

His hope, I’d guess, is that this will compel us to do something. Talk about it with others, write letters to Apple (he provides contact info), or even agitate for political change. But I’m skeptical that consumer action against a company can really change things. Call me an unrepentant liberal, but when I look at the world, I generally assume there’s a reason it is the way it is, and if we don’t want it to be that way, we should actually expect things like laws to be in place to prevent the things we don’t like, feel are excessive, damaging, or wrong. You don’t write letters of complaint to meatpackers to make their conditions better. It didn’t work in Upton Sinclair’s day and it doesn’t work today.

It’s easy for me to deride work that produces this emotional response function as a theater of good intentions (as Mac Wellman once called it), choir-preaching, or offering a false emotional catharsis (false because you get the emotional payoff when nothing has changed). But I don’t want to go that far because Rob and others are right that there is a value in emotional engagement–rather than purely intellectual engagement–with the world, and for the theater to be a vehicle for asking people to examine their greater emotional, social, and political realities.

Still, there’s a reason Brecht was skeptical of emotional theater, of sentiment as a means to social change. That skepticism informed his entire notion of theater and performance, which sought to deny its audiences a sense of closure or catharsis in order to expose the issues with which he was concerned for what they were: open, bleeding wounds in humanity which demand action to heal. Emotion subsides, sentiment demands closure. The very idea of catharsis seems to run counter to the idea of leaving the theater demanding change. This isn’t new stuff, it’s very, very old. I’m not denying this work a place and application (as many people seem to assume I am), I’m just saying that depending on the story, the goal, the artistic enterprise, it’s worth considering whether simply making people feel guilty enough to write a letter is a particularly meaningful thing.

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I know we’re a little behind the curve on this one (there’s a post on p-club about the situation, and it was even written up on pitchfork.) but we were talking about this whole Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker vs. Beyonce scandal over the weekend and trying to figure out what the ramifications are.

If you don’t know the situation – the basics are that Beyonce made a video for the song “Countdown” in which she very liberally “borrowed” choreography from de Keersmaeker’s Rosas Danst Rosas. Here’s a short side-by-side video comparison on YouTube:

I’m still researching, but from what I understand the choreographer of the Beyonce video has acknowledged that she was influenced by de Keersmaeker’s work. Anne Teresa herself has chimed in – you can read her statement on her website here, and was remarkably generous in her comments, preferring to take the high road, more or less, saying:

People asked me if I’m angry or honored. Neither. On the one hand, I am glad that Rosas danst Rosas can perhaps reach a mass audience which such a dance performance could never achieve, despite its popurality in the dance world since 1980s. And, Beyoncé is not the worst copycat, she sings and dances very well, and she has a good taste! On the other hand, there are protocols and consequences to such actions, and I can’t imagine she and her team are not aware of it.

To conclude, this event didn’t make me angry, on the contrary, it made me think a few things. Like, why does it take popular culture thirty years to recognize an experimental work of dance? A few months ago, I saw on Youtube a clip where schoolgirls in Flanders are dancing Rosas danst Rosas to the music of Like a Virgin by Madonna. And that was touching to see. But with global pop culture it is different, does this mean that thirty years is the time that it takes to recycle non-mainstream experimental performance? And, what does it say about the work of Rosas danst Rosas? In the 1980s, this was seen as a statement of girl power, based on assuming a feminine stance on sexual expression. I was often asked then if it was feminist. Now that I see Beyoncé dancing it, I find it pleasant but I don’t see any edge to it. It’s seductive in an entertaining consumerist way.

de Keersmaeker makes some important points about the gap between experimental work and pop culture, but personally I think she should take legal action. This is an egregious example of the devaluing and exploitation of contemporary performance by mainstream, commercial culture. Not unlike the AT&T ad that ripped off Christo, it is another case where corporate-funded entertainment and advertising entities create content with no fear about reprisals for the theft of intellectual property from artists. And it is theft.

There are several things at play here–first off there’s the difficult nature of copyrighting and protecting the work of time-based, body-based artists from appropriation. Music and text can be turned into recognizable commodities and object-based forms, they are easier to quantify and copyright. Time-based and body-based performances are, by their nature, ephemeral. But in this age of increased documentation through video, dance notation, etc. it should be easier to copyright performances, their design, execution and aesthetic sensibilities. As far as I know there are very few people working on issues of copyright protection and “fair use” when it comes to dance and performance. But this should be a growing field of exploration and concern. Artists – especially experimental artists – tend to position themselves in the context of larger philosophical, aesthetic and sociological conversations. In some ways performance is a time-based “site” or nexus for the intersection and juxtaposition of different ideas. It is an experiential mode of philosophical investigation, complete with dramaturgy, research and collateral conversations. To suggest that the work of choreographers and other time-based performance artists is not intellectual property as distinct as a book, article, recording or painting is simply wrong.

The Dance Heritage Foundation published an article on fair use of dance-related materials, you can download it here. There’s also an article on fair use at Dance/USA’s “From The Green Room” – you can read that here. And Michelle N. Burkhart wrote an article on the same site – Copyright Basics for Dance Works. She also wrote an article entitled “In a Post Graham World: Choreographing Dance Rights in the World of Media, Technology and Social Networking” which you can download here.

This situation also speaks to the general devaluation of the performing arts in our culture. The general public–and certainly most corporate advertising and entertainment content creators–look down on the arts. They don’t think it is difficult to make, they don’t consider it on par with movies or television, I imagine they think it is largely irrelevant and if someone is foolish enough to spend their time making high-concept art that only a few people go see, then it is not a big deal to steal it. Who will know anyway except for a few artsy-fartsy types?

Of course, I disagree–I think contemporary performance is exciting, dynamic and adventurous, it offers an alternative to the mindless, numbing, simplistic, commodified pablum that so frequently issues forth from the gaping maw of mass media. Don’t get me wrong – I watch TV and films and buy CDs and everything else. And a lot of the things I watch and listen to are well done, thoughtful and entertaining. But I appreciate that I can see live performance as a counterbalance to all the mediated and prepackaged narratives that proliferate in our society. And I appreciate that live performance–especially contemporary/experimental work–can engage with issues and ideas long before they percolate into the mainstream.

It is interesting that these days there are many creators of contemporary performance who readily and wholeheartedly embrace mass culture. Whether it is Neal Medlyn’s post-gender critique of Hannah Montana or Faye Driscoll riffing on talk shows in her recent work at DTW/NYLA or what have you, there is definitely a one-way dialogue here.  We, obviously, live in a mass media world and the ubiquity of stars, entertainment product, personalities and fashion trends makes it inevitable that artists working outside of the mainstream will reference those cultural touchstones. But what are we saying when we do that? Are we merely preaching to the converted when we critique it? Do we, in some way, de-legitimize ourselves by acknowledging how much more impact they have aesthetically and philosophically on the world at large than we do?

Some big questions that come to mind for me are:

• How do we raise the value of live art in the cultural hierarchy?
• How do we situate live art as intellectual property that can be owned, protected and licensed?
• How do we engender a more meaningful two-way dialogue between mass and art culture?

Obviously this is just the beginning of a much longer conversation. Please share your thoughts in the comments!

Oh and here’s a longer video comparing the two works:

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