Secondly, The Walworth Farce is an Irish piece of theater.  I’ve seen movies and read books about the plight of the Irish under the oppressive thumb of the English.  The Walworth  Farce advanced this story of colonization.  The way Dennis’ sons struggle underneath him and become him is about learning their Irish heritage, but they learn it in a Council Flat in England.  The sons are trapped in a tiny apartment in a country that is not their own without any real knowledge of Ireland.  It’s a transcultural story.

The Irish have been going to England to make their fortune for over a hundred years.  It’s an old story and it’s still happening today.  More than ever people are traveling to rich world cities, leaving their youth, home and family to make money in a foreign culture.   This isn’t always pretty.  It reveals and reinforces unsavory power dynamics – in families and in society.  For the past day, I’ve been wondering about metaphors in The Walworth Farce.  I keep coming back to the metaphor of the transcultural experience.  It’s is surprising.  We certainly have these problems in America.  Look at the recent news surrounding the Somali population here in Minnesota.

I felt and enjoyed the skill of The Walworth Farce’s actors, director, and designers.  For me, what makes the play great is that I also felt the consequence in the play Edna Walsh wrote.

I’m excited to see this show for a number of reasons, but I’m also intrigued to see a what a new play that has been broadly successful. It’s no secret that live performance is having a little trouble competing in a super-saturated entertainment market and a troubled economy.

Why am I excited? For starters last spring the Walker presented three fantastic British performances that appeared at the 2007 Edinburgh Fringe Festival: England, Ape, and Story of a Rabbit. I missed England and was chastised for it by my friends. Ape and Story of a Rabbit were delightfully funny as an audience member and challenging as an artist. They challenged me to continue pushing for humanity and clarity of communication even as my work pushes against theatrical assumptions.

Another reason I’m excited is because we have a thriving theater community in the Twin Cities that is consistently producing funny, human, challenging, outlandish work: The Bedlam, Jon Ferguson Theater, Sandbox, Four Humors, Three Stix, Walking Shadow, Red Eye Collaborations, and even my own Live Action Set. Seeing a new play in the same tradition tour the world is inspiring and gives international context for our work. A particularly successful play like this might also help audiences bridge the gap between the Guthrie and the Bedlam.

So what will The Walworth Farce be? It has more institutional backing than any of its British predecessors (Druid Theatre is an established institution in Galway, Farce was presented by the National Theatre in London and by Traverse Theatre – one of the best venues in Edinburgh), and from this youtube clip it looks more like British TV than the others:Click here to view the embedded video.

As we roll unstoppably towards the impending winter, I’m ready to see something funny and human, maybe a little ridiculous. Are you? If not, check out the Druid website. They make a pretty good case for why The Walworth Farce is special:

http://www.druid.ie/productions/the-walworth-farce-2009

Or if you’re wanting a review, try the NY Times:

http://theater2.nytimes.com/2008/04/19/theater/reviews/19walw.html

This morning, I can’t pin down the meaning of the piece but I know that in a year when I think back on it will mean something very important.  Important to me as an artist, more importantly to meas a person.  It’s not a performance to forget.

Leading up to the show a number of people have asked me what a dramaturge is.  It is a flexible term generally referring to the individual in the theatrical creative process who does research into the history and context of a piece, often with an eye on interconnected themes and overarching quality of the production.  It’s clear to me now that Raimund Hoghe is a choreographer who privileges overarching quality and interconnected meaning in his dance.   He values the ritual of the moving body, “Dance is not to be wasted for it is a rare and precious gift.”

When you see it (and if you can please do) enjoy the themes.  I couple of things I watched throughout the piece:

• Black on Black and White on Black and Colors in Black
• Folds in fabric and bodies
• Isolated personal journeys
• Circles and cycles
• Appearing and disappearing

The piece was also unexpectedly political.  You’ll understand why if you see it.

A few things that peak my interest in Bolero Variations:

• Hoghe was Pina Bausch’s dramaturge in the 1980’s when she became arguably the most influencial choreographer in Europe, maybe the world.
• Dramaturgy is at the heart of his choreography.  He says he finishes dramaturgy then rehearses once or twice before performing. (The closest local comparison might be MadKingThomas).  What is dance dramaturgy?
• Hoghe’s irregular dance body (hump and rickets) AND this quote “His intelligence is more disturbing than his ugliness.” - Tiago Costa.
• Hoghe’s work is entertaining for a three year old.
• His dancers are also: a jock, not at all a jock, a martial artist, and a doctor.
• Finally, in everything I have read Hoghe appears appreciative, inquisitive, and humble.

Also, this work in the McGuire seems perfect: a very formal space where the audience can get close to the performers.  Personally I’ll be in the front row trying to get on top of a work described as minimalist, ritualized, expressive, precise, intelligent, fascinating, repulsive, boring, inspiring and always extraordinarily dramaturged.

Check out these Hoghe links:

An Interview

Some Background

His Site

Every Choreographers’ Evening is curated, and this year Sally Rousse chose 13 choreographers from over 60 that applied.  I’m one of those 13, feeling lucky to get to present my work at the Walker next Saturday.   Actually I’m presenting the work of 10 other choreographers from past evenings.  “Dances You Might Remember” is a piece of archival recovery and community based contemporary art.  That is a complicated way of saying that I have collected and watched videos of past choreographer’s evenings and taken 30 seconds of dance material from 10 different dances.  My dancers have each learned one 30 second sequence and will be looping that sequence for 15 minutes in the lobbies and public spaces of the Walker before the stage show begins in the McGuire.

You want to see this work, so make sure you show up 20 minutes early and don’t immediately grab your seat.  Also, four of the Walker’s amazing tour guides will be taking audience members through the piece describing details and discussing the development of the Walker’s architecture and programing. Did you know that the Walker created the performing arts program in 1970 just one year before choreographer’s evening was started?  True!

It’s been a trip doing the research for this piece.  Besides watching videos I’ve had conversations with Judith Brin Ingber (the impetuous behind the first CE and it’s first curator), Wendy Morris, Tom Kanthak, Tom Carlson, Laurie Van Wieren (who will be performing an excerpt of a piece by one of the original 1971 choreographers on Saturday), and more.  Every conversation brings me closer into this community.   It’s fantastic.

Final Thoughts and Tangents - Last night I was talking with one of the choreographers about their piece.  They told me they were surprised I had seen video of their piece before getting their permission to use it.  This reminded me of an issue I was very interested in digging at when I began Dances You Might Remember.  Since dance is fundamentally ephemeral, the documentation of it is incomplete and filled with informational holes.  I think there is also a sense of time in dance that the present is the only real incarnation.  Because of this watching video of my own past work is a little shocking and a little invasive.  Similarly video raises issues of ownership and control.  I have gotten the permission from the choreographers whose movement I’ve stolen/appropriated/assumed, but in many instances I didn’t have to do that.  Their material is out in the world.  I could steal it.  But what is the point in that?  Is it really even valuable?  If I reacreate it off of the video is it really theirs?  How much do I have to recreate before I begin to impinge on their ownership rights?  Western choreographers have been directly lifting/using/taking inspiration from other people’s movement as a standard technique for a long long time.

Question: What is the function of copyright in an ownership society?  Is it to allow creators to take risk and make money?  Is it a protection for personal expression?  I’m not sure but there is certainly a better system than the one set out by Congress and the US court system.  Take a look at: creativecommons.org

Thanks for reading.  See the show and talk to me afterwards.  If you want to document my piece feel free.  Cameras are everywhere so let’s get used to using them.  I claim ownership of my art and my concepts.

If you really need to know what happens, there are spoiler reviews out there:

www.brooklynrail.org/2006/12/dance/claude-wamplers-strike

I don’t recommend reading it. Maybe afterwards. Maybe not. I bet you’ll get it on the night and like it or not.

What you should read is this blog entry. For me, it is related to Claude’s piece last night (plus I’ve really been enjoying Tino Sehgal’s pieces):

blogs.walkerart.org/visualarts/2007/12/20/tino-sehgal-doesnt-sense/

So, what would you ask Sarah and The Team? Seriously you can ask anything.

To further validate the NY Times quote in the press material for Everyone, the piece sparked questions:

• Throughout the piece it felt to me like The Audience was always The Audience. We were always watching and almost always distanced from the performers by their hightened experience. So, when is The Audience not The Audience?

• What does it mean that there are so many cliches of contemporary/post-modern american dance in this piece (the hipster functional outfits, the staring at the audience, the taking off of shoes, the singing, the kissing, the rough movement style, the personal witty story about, the reflection on the process of art making)?

Let’s start there. Maybe someone would like to respond. Mr. Campbell?

A clown is a performer that acknowledges his/her audience, creating a bridge to the stage (it might be in a theater or a circus or a street corner or the frozen foods aisle). Generally clowns use humor and physicality to do this, and universally the clowns job is to get the attention of their audience and raise questions about taboos or assumptions in society.

I took a workshop from Pierre Byland, a well known Swiss clown that taught the Jeune Lune co-foudners, this summer, and he said that the job of the clown is to raise doubt in the audience.

The clown also wants to be loved. Being liked doesn’t matter, love is essential.

Jerome Bel is a clown:

Last night Jerome Bel said that his job as a contemporary artist working in the theater is to do research and “reflect what is happening in our society now” through his performances. That is why it is contemporary art. It is contemporary to now. That’s like a clown. With all the laughter, it looks like he’s using humor to do this. He is also “identified as a choreographer” and uses very specific physicality in his performances. That is also like a clown.

Pichet Klunchun and myself is all about doubt of our assumptions, our values, and essentially what we are doing in the theater.

Jerome Bel also needs love. Without love we would not survive as an artist. He explains the structure of contemporary art as 3 tiered: Artist, Producer/Sponsor, Audience. For the artist to survive the producers and audience support the artist’s research, blindly. They buy nothing, they “make a bet”. The faith in this bet looks a lot like love to me.

Finally, Jerome Bel wears a mask like a clown. The Red Nose of the clown is “the smallest mask in the world”. It allows the clown to do his job and take risks. Jerome Bel has created a mask that is called “Jerome Bel” that allows him to take risks and do his job. It makes me think of Stephen Colbert’s character Stephen Colbert, star of the Colbert Report.

Just one more connection: Jean Baudrillard, the French “philosopher clown” who died last spring argued that modern society creates representation that is more “real” than the original. Isn’t Jerome Bel’s work about representation and the real?

What do you think?

Their piece raised questions. Here are some:

• When exploring and presenting a heavy work, might it be best to keep the positive life energy flowing with food, drinks, dancing, and interaction. Does depressing subject matter mean depressing experience?
• I exoticise this African performance, why? Is there value in doing that or am I “bad” because of it?
• What am I expecting to do when I go to an art performance?
• We were told this festival of lies is “A piece of Fiction” at the beginning and the end, yet historical leaders of the Congo were quoted throughout. It felt political. What is a lie? As an American artist how can I be political?

And on my bike ride home these questions brought my mind back to my pre-show dinner conversation with some folks headed to the State to see The Hold Steady.

We talked about myth, politics, celebrity, and earnestness in the media and art we consume.

Speaking of lies vs fiction vs truth, check out Deborah Solomon and her interview with Ira Glass (for context).

What is the line between fiction and truth? How does drawing and noting that line provide a safety for the artist who is then not a journalist?

And in a world without a clear line between fiction and truth, who controls your identity and the identity of your country?

Democratic Republic of Congo by the US State Department

Bonus link: Quirk – the safe odd space