Friday, June 5, 2009

We can build a beautiful city.

I've heard recently, in multiple places, talk of how we're living in a "postmodern" world, and questions of how to deal with postmodernism. The final straw for me was the postmodern world being a big deal of the speaker I ran sound for yesterday. I loved the speaker. I completely understand why people talk about our postmodern society and how we have to minister to it. I happen to be very opinionated about postmodernism and how to deal with it.

KILL IT.

I don't pretend to be an expert on postmodernism. I really don't. I'm honestly more familiar with the influences of postmodernism than postmodernism itself, and a lot of the movements that are sometimes considered to be part of postmodernism and sometimes not. (Theatre of the Absurd tends to fall in this - but that's much more of a direct growth from the Surrealists.)

And you know what? I absolutely LOVE all of it. I LOVE postmodern art and literature. Some of my favorite authors are considered postmodern (or sometimes postpostmodern). I wear a bowler hat - of COURSE I love the Theatre of the Absurd. I love Surrealism, and DADA, and even earlier influence like Jarry's Pataphysics. I really, really love the stuff. In think that postmodernism has served very important purposes. It's spurred on phenomenal artists, made lasting works, and brought new ideas. It has also made us really look at our existing forms and systems and rigorously re-examine them, which is incredibly necessary.

BUT IT IS DONE.
THE HORSE IS STONE COLD DEAD.
MAKING POSTMODERN ART RIGHT NOW IS LIKE TRYING TO REANIMATE A CORPSE AND THAT RARELY GOES WELL.

Postmodernism permeates downtown New York theatre. Or variations on postmodernism. I train in downtown New York theatre. I've created postmodern works. We all have. Because it's hip and it's fun.

BUT IT'S DEAD.

My knowledge of postmodernism is largely not from any official sources. It's from what I've learned and what I'm still observing:

Postmodernism calls us to challenge our established systems and assumptions.

Great. Awesome. I always love that part.

When postmodernism does this, they usually find that there is no inherent order, the way the world works is absurd, or our systems are completely useless.

I am also totally fine with this. I agree that a lot about our world and systems are very strange and absurd, and sometimes useless.

WHAT THIS CREATES is my problem. It creates a sense of futility, and therefore passivity. That is, now. I'm sure when postmodernism first started up, there were all these artists creating works with passion about this futility, which is a beautiful contradition. But I can tell you that very, very few of the many postmodern works I've seen created in my training program are created to express these ideas. They're created because if everything is random, you as the artist don't have to do as much work. They're created because we're all trying to find new ways of working, and basing things off of completely arbitrary factors often makes a strange kind of sense. They're created because we've spent hours of time and effort working on pieces that crash and burn (or, worse, the audience is indifferent to), and it's less painful and often more successful to do a dance where you all turn into chickens at the end. And there is so much validity to these pieces. And the dance where we all turned into chickens at the end was one of my favorite projects ever. And even though I'm being a bit jaded and bitter about why we do these pieces, there is so much to learn from them.

But to tell you the truth, that's what pretty much every other theatre artist in downtown theatre is doing. Making art about how nothing makes sense, there is no order, it's useless. And a lot of these tend to have this sense of "this is my protest against the uselessness of the world because I'm so disillusioned" attitude about them that makes me want to throw things.

Yes, young artist, you are disillusioned. My entire generation was BORN disillusioned. Disillusionment, unfortunately, seems to be the only thing that we know. So we can wallow in it - or we can change it.

I believe very strongly in the responsibility of artists. There is a hilarious and insightful essay by Oscar Wilde called The Decay of Lying, where he talks about artists defining how we see the world. He makes a lot of seemingly outlandish claims, like "nature copies art," but how he supports them rings true. No one really noticed the fogs in London until the Impressionists painted them. They taught the world how to look at the fogs. There are some who believe that "love" is actually created by artists - because, often, when people think of "love", their thoughts are shaped by what they've seen in the movies. Whether that's true or not, my experience as simply a person has proven that art affects the way I see. It can open up my eyes to a new possibility, or make me see things I never noticed before. It can leave me elated. It can leave me hopeless.

Therefore, I take my responsibility as an artist very seriously. I have people in a theatre with me, and I have an effect on how they feel and think when they leave. While I love, LOVE postmodern hopeless art, I believe in showing people light and life. This does not mean sugary, empty forced "happiness". In fact, as I interpret it, it means going into absolute darkness and finding the light. I realized this year that I'm an optimist. This completely caught me off guard, because I'd always, you know, read Chuck Palahniuk and listened to metal. Optimists, I thought, were the ones who put sprinkles on everything and refused to watch R-rated movies. My favorite musical was Sweeney Todd! How could /I/ be an /optimist/?

I realized that, while I fully acknowledge the darkness of every situation, I cannot help but see the light. My parents would get calls from me last semester, saying, "I just vomited and don't see the point to any of my work anymore, but I feel so much more focused going into next year because this has helped me realize how much I love voice and speech." The reason I love Sweeney Todd so much is because I, inexplicably, see the hope and love within the piece. (Most people don't, but I'm not alone in this.) I'm not afraid to walk into these dark places, because I'm totally interested in them... and somehow I always find the light. I can't get away from it. Which is sometimes horrible because it makes it really difficult to be angry, and never getting that release is frustrating. (Upon realizing my optimism, I talked with two teachers and my best friend of over four years about it, and they all immediately said, "Yeah, you are." I was baffled. Here I thought I was a cynical pessimist. D'oh.)

In a nutshell, I want to make art that helps people see that light. That seems worthwhile to me.

Artists have a huge effect. Artists really started this whole postmodernism thing. Artists and thinkers.

And the only way to get rid of it is to change it.

Here is what I've observed about my generation. We are disillusioned and disconnected. We grew up in a world that was pretty bitter about itself, and in a world of technology. Now, I happen to believe that technology helps far more than it hurts, but it does cause some major, very specific problems. The biggest thing is this false sense of community. Through technology, it is so easy for us to get in contact with each other. This is wonderful. We can stay in touch so much easier. I've friends that I've made primarily through technology, and they are some of the closest people to my heart. The other edge of the sword, though, is so much of this connection is superficial. When most of your conversation happens in 140 characters or less on Twitter... that's a problem. I deleted my facebook for a brief time, and most of my social interaction completely halted. Out of sight, out of mind. And when you talk more through a screen than face-to-face, you start to yearn for a visceral experience.

One day, this year, a whole bunch of people got yelled at for doing dangerous things to themselves in their theatre pieces in class. It's funny, it all happened around the same time and really freaked out the teachers. I don't think anyone was actually hurt ever, but there was some pretty dangerous stuff going on, that you would need a license or something to actually do as a performance. And we all observed was that we are so desperate for a real, visceral experience - because we're so disconnected as a generation - that we sought it in danger and fear, the easiest ways to get a real experience. By playing with life, we could actually finally EXPERIENCE it. This is standard in Performance Art, where people will, you know, roll around naked in honey to represent the female libido (one of my ACADEMIC teachers was famous for this), or actually have people shoot them (truth). (I'll disclaim that none of the stuff my classmates brought it was that serious, but it's the same spirit.) My generation doesn't have a lot of conflict. As the speaker yesterday said, we're "comfortable". Racial conflicts, gender conflicts... really not that big a deal. Our "war" is not like a war that people used to rally around. We laugh at it, because it's ridiculous. It hasn't really affected us that much. Nothing really does.

I am bitter about postmodernism's hold on the world right now because it's so obvious we NEED something different. We are disillustioned with disillusionment and don't know how to get out of that cycle.

I was approached early this year by my dear friend Julia. She has basically started a theatre company which is doing a residency in Nebraska this summer. The company is full of artists who are my classmates and are brilliant and incredible people. Julia wanted me involved, and if I'd not gotten this job, I would have gone with them this summer. We have eeriely similar ideas about what theatre should be, which I won't really go on about right now, but let's just say we could finish each other's sentences. I remember sitting in a cafe in the East Village with her and her saying, very strongly, "Postmodernism is dead."

That is what I think needs to happen. I think we need to stand firmly and say, "Postmodernism is dead." I think all of us in theatre school need to work on the art that will actually reach our generation instead of poking at the tools of the past, because we are the next generation of artists. The next movement in art almost always starts with young artists, getting angry with their teachers and doing something else. We have to start now.

And what the rest of us need to do is stop talking about "oh, the postmodern world," like it's something we're resigned to. We need to start making way for what comes NEXT.

I don't know what that looks like. I have thoughts. I have ideas about what I want it to look like and therefore what art I'll create. I got into a huge debate about postmodernism with Russ, who's also on A/V crew, yesterday, and he talked about a movement with echoes of Romanticism, some kind of return to nature (especially because if we don't return to nature, pretty sure there won't be any nature to return to), and thinks the "going green" movement that's happening has a lot to do with it (which is a great point). But we cannot, absolutely cannot, stay in a postmodern world. We are in a time of great change. Look at history. We can't stay in a time of constriction for so long without the bubble bursting, like it did in the 1920's and clothing, hairstyles, and life changed completely. The world is about to burst and everything is going to change. We must, we MUST be ready for and facilitate that change.

And to all of us still moping around in our postmodern futility, I say:

If you think the world has no order: find the order.
If you think there is no purpose: find your purpose.
If you hate the world you live in: create another world.

We choose what world we live in. We don't always choose what happens to us, but we choose how we react to it. My optimism largely comes out of years of extreme pessimism and depression. I hated the world and didn't want to live in it. When leaving the world no longer seemed an option, I realized I had to make the world into something I want to live in. So I choose the light. I choose to follow a religion whose biggest feast day revolves around resurrection (which is really pure optimism, there. Life conquering death), and whose greatest commandment is to love. I choose to believe that people have good intentions. I could believe otherwise. But I like this one better.

If you think creating another world sounds weird, think about the Lord's Prayer. "Thy kingdom come." So often we look and pray for "the Kingdom of God to come upon the earth". Guess what, friends. It's up to us to start the labor. We must start building the Kingdom. (Unless you want to wait for it to drop from the sky.)

And I'll tell you one thing: the Kingdom of God is NOT postmodern.

1 comment:

  1. I read a book in the late '80s by Dick Hebdige called Hiding in the Light: On Images and Things.

    Even then, he was calling postmodernism a buzzword, saying it is way overdone.

    While postmodernism in the arts may always have a place among discontented artists (may they live forever), many now are finding it merely a phase they endure for a while. And many are creating wonderful new worlds in books, in film and on stage.

    Many of us are wondering what the next phase in music will be. One thing is sure: it will not be called "postmodern."

    ReplyDelete