Bugs and the Holocaust

One of the most terrifying and engaging experiences I ever had was seeing NYC’s Off Broadway production of Bug by Tracy Letts.  I don’t think I have seen a production or movie this terrifying, yet real, since.  This play later became a much different take on film, for me at least, starring Ashley Judd and Michael Shannon.  I believe the film brought a little too much reality, or filled in the gaps, whereas the play’s abstract moments left much open for the audience to imagine.  Bug is about a woman, Agnes, who meets an ex-soldier, Peter, in a motel room, but eventually gets swept up in his paranoia about the government conducting experiments on Gulf War soldiers by injecting bugs into their bodies.  Agnes hides out in a dive motel room from her abusive ex-husband who is supposed to be released from prison at any moment, as well as from the pain of her child being abducted several years earlier.  Her son is a very real presence for Agnes throughout the play since she believes he is still alive somewhere.  Letts includes “dark matter” moments throughout the play to add to the fear and confusion. 

The play begins with a series of prank phone calls that Agnes tries to ignore after blaming her abusive ex-husband as the culprit.  This outside fear of Jerry looms until he arrives at the motel unexpectedly later in the play.  Peter gets bitten by a bug and jumps out of bed, naked, the next morning trying to find where it came from.  In the film, you see Agnes and Peter eventually get bite marks all over their body…or maybe it’s the scab marks they scratch away thinking they are bug bites.  In the NYC production, the audience never sees the effect of the “bugs”; so the audience wonders whether it is truly the characters’ paranoia or an actual occurrence. Are there really bugs implanted in Peter that are infesting his body and spreading to Agnes? The characters feel them and see them since “…such invisible presences matter very much indeed, even if spectators, characters, and performers cannot put their hands on them” (Sofer 3).  With the movie, it forces you to assume something is happening.  Another character, Dr. Sweet, stops by the motel room looking for Peter.  His ambiguous involvement makes the audience question if he is there to help Peter’s PTSD, or if he’s an actual agent of the government coming to take their experiment away.  He eventually gets killed by Peter, who has a meltdown, and convinces Agnes that the doctor is not a real man, but a robot from the government.  Another “dark matter” moment is when the audience wonders whether or not the actual army is outside of the hotel room waiting to pounce on Peter when a helicopter is heard flying above the motel.  The world, outside of the motel room, is never seen since the characters barricade themselves in the room with fear and anxiety.  “It is dark matter that produces the difference between horror and terror…Horror is what we see; terror is what we know is there though it remains unseen”(Sofer 5).  Letts uses a fair amount of ambiguity in his play that intensify the presence of certain “dark matter” moments.  These moments are really effective in producing in the audience a similar experience to the characters involved.  Watch this clip from the movie where Peter believes he is bugged with an egg sack under his molar filling and violently pulls his tooth out in front of Agnes.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TgOGj14T0M4

I couldn’t help but remember my experience of visiting the Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum when I traveled with my church group to Israel in 2011.  Our tour guide told the group that it is a requirement of the schools in Israel for students to visit the Holocaust Museum every year so the horror is never forgotten--never allowed to happen again in human history.  Most of the museum is underground and constructed as a huge prism.  Spectators walk through the concrete walls as if they are in hiding from the danger of the outside Nazi threat…or perhaps imprisoned in the gas chambers unable to get out.  Artifacts from victims are displayed on pedestals and hanging casings, videos of interviews from survivors, history of the time period, and artwork that carries a certain emotional weight are seen throughout the museum.  What was really compelling to me and my friends, was the simple yet touching Children’s Exhibit Memorial.  We walked into a pitch black, cavernous room outside of the museum (one of the last stops before leaving) where a single candle was lit that reflected off a thousand or so tiny mirrors.  The flame resembled to that of millions of stars throughout the room as names of children, and the camps from where they died, were read over the sound system.

The Museum also hosts readings of literature and small plays, at times, as exhibits. However, I did not witness such an event when I visited.  If the displays and exhibitions had such an impact on me, I can only guess that these other exhibits might create some of the same responses.  And the way that the different displays were arranged created a touching, yet emotional experience.  There were very realistic images and displays for the spectator, but also abstract artwork and moments interwoven throughout the museum. 

I don’t believe there is any redeeming factor concerning the Holocaust because the event looms in the background at all times.  What is moving, and at times inspirational, are the struggles, or stories, of the victims involved.  The artistic composition in the Museum didn’t create “…a power to elicit enjoyment” as Adorno writes in his article.  But it was an experience of respect and remembrance.  Visit the website to find out more! 

http://www.yadvashem.org/YV/en/museum/index.asp

A dose of adrenaline

Thanks Amanda for such a fun prompt!  I immediately thought of a YouTube clip that I watched a few months ago.  This clip, marketed as a prank in a coffee shop, came about to create a buzz for the Carrie remake that came out last year which starred Chloe Grace Moretz and Julianne Moore.  It is a very theatrical experience.  Actors were used, a NYC coffee shop got rigged to accommodate the special effects, and most importantly the public, or audience, was expected to be in the right spot at the right time. The action took place right inside the coffee shop during the normal hubbub of the day.  The conflict arises when an actor bumps into another actor and spills coffee.  After the outburst of the confrontation, all hell breaks loose.  The patrons in the coffee shop are reacting with shock, horror, panic, disbelief, fear, etc…as the cozy atmosphere gets pummeled with the chaos of flying furniture and effects. I am including two examples of this prank.  The other example was “Part Two” when pranked in a foreign country (Rome?).  I included this other clip since some of the effects are more exciting and chilling than the original NYC premiere. The door slams, trapping customers inside the coffee shop, as lights burst and more chaos ensues.  The reactions in the second clip are even better than the first!   

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=63gI9VyoaAU

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6B6ZvsVjQ7Y&sns=em

 

I’m not sure if the people involved immediately wanted to go see the film, but the effect of the prank really caused a stir.  It is an experience that, I’m sure, they will always remember.  Perhaps these people will now identify with the horror in the film, piquing their interest to go see the movie?  Whether they laughed off the whole event afterwards or got pissed about being innocently involved, it changed them for the moment. And I think that’s what theatre should do.  People should leave the experience changed in some way.  Artaud writes in “No More Masterpieces” that the “…theatre is the only place in the world, the last general means we will possess of directly affecting the organism…”(5).  I don’t necessarily agree with all of his extreme theories; however, some of his ideas are worth pondering.

Artaud comments, writing about Theatre of Cruelty, that the spectator is in the midst of the spectacle around him. We live in a very technological age, surrounded and distracted by nifty gadgets, inventions, conveniences, and mini events that hold our interest.  We wonder why audiences are fidgety or restless during our productions but seem right at home in the movie theaters. As artists, we need to somehow affect the audience whereby they leave changed.  Maybe by more spectacle, who knows.  But whether enthralled, horrified, or inspired, “…the theatre can reinstruct, because a gesture carries its energy with it, and there are still human beings in the theatre to manifest the force of the gesture made.”(4).

Theatre should also be accessible to everyone, in my opinion.  Artaud writes of the theatre being only for the “self-styled elite and not understood by the general public”.   He is talking about what kind of theatre that is being done.  Moreover, prices for theatre tickets are ridiculous and they keep on rising.  I know running a theatre is no cheap affair, and artists should be paid for their work.  But is theatre really meant to be a “once in a while” treat?  Shouldn’t it be a must? Football games are a must, movies are a must, going to restaurants and bars are a must…It’s very interesting to learn how theatre is viewed in other countries.  Sean Daniels, guest director of Dove, told the cast that theatre is such an important part in the lives of Estonians.  Even their theatre actors are paid a “normal” salary which is much different than in America where most actors can’t even make a living doing just theatre.

Whether we take the theatre to the streets, like Artaud suggests, or create imaginative, entertaining spectacles in the style of Brecht, I believe we must adapt the theatre to our quickly, ever-evolving age.  We must pump up the audience’s adrenaline somehow, and wow them into re-examing truths that are important to the human experience.  Whether theatre is realistically, stylistically, or technologically driven…audiences should leave the theatre with a sense of a “purification”, a change for the moment, to draw them back again for more. 

"I forgive you..."

As I toiled to think of a performative utterance or act, when intentionally performed really meant something else, I was reminded of an event in my life.  When I was a teenager, my father became furious one night because I arrived home late from a drama competition. Granted, the competition took place on a school night, and we (the cast) returned home very late due to the long awards ceremony and traveling from out of town. My father told me that he didn’t want me to participate in theatre anymore, and that I was to tell my teacher the next day that I was going to withdraw from the play and upcoming competitions.  This command from my father seemed ridiculous to me.  I was an all “A” student, was responsible and did my chores, was active in my church, obeyed my parents, etc…I felt like I was a good kid considering, and I finally found something that I loved to do!  After I told him that I wouldn’t do such a thing, in his anger he hit me in the face.  What meant to be a slap really was an accidental punch in the nose.  The next evening, my father came to me in tears (which I had never seen from him before), and asked me to forgive him.  He hugged my rigid, angered body as I regurgitated with a bitter subtext, “I forgive you.”  Though my father appeared relieved when I uttered those words, he had to have known somehow that I didn’t mean them...right?  Watch this funny clip where Shrek forgives Donkey…or does he?  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzLEjzvygYE

In Dr. Fletcher’s discussion with the grad students last Wednesday, he talked about how performativity, thanks to Judith Butler, does not describe reality but affects it.  He summarized from Butler’s writing that “…so many acts are performances that create realities that create performances…Performance is how we learn the present.”  My act to not forgive my father really, in truth, hurt me.  For the next several years, that event from high school fueled my anger towards my parents…morphing into a hatred that eventually affected my health and relationship with my family.  I had engaged in a repeated performance over time that affected my reality.  Eventually I didn’t really have a relationship with my parents and didn’t want one.  I finally learned that forgiveness is a choice one must make, because it doesn’t happen over time or on its own.

When Nelson Mandela was released from prison in 1990, he had to consciously leave behind his bitterness and anger or, he felt, he would still be in prison.  Watch this interesting clip about Nelson Mandela and the Science of Forgiveness.  The idea of “forgiveness” is usually thought to live in the spiritual or philosophical realm; however, there are new scientific studies being done to explore the effects of forgiveness, or lack thereof. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FyC-Zma75Aw (Sorry about the long ad before the actual clip!)

As I researched for my thesis performance this semester, I came across a letter from Iranian-American Pastor Saeed Abedini that really speaks to this issue.  Currently, he is imprisoned in Iran for his Christian faith, accused of “undermining the authority of the Iranian government” with an eight year prison sentence in one of the worst prisons of the world.    In his letter to his wife in early 2013 he writes:

I have been stung so many times that I have become full of poison.  This is an Iranian saying…It means that we have been bitten by the snakes of this world so many times that, that all the poison has collected in us and that we are like the poisonous snake.  But if we sting anyone, we will die…When we don’t forgive, we drink the poison ourselves and then wait for the other person to die.  And we take the knife that has hurt us and we stab ourselves with it again!  But when we forgive, we pour out the poison of the enemy and the devil and we don’t let the poison stay in us and we don’t let the poison make us into poisonous snakes!  So that we don’t become like the person we despised and who persecuted and tortured us…When we forgive, we become free and we become messengers of peace and reconciliation and goodness.

 You can’t simply say “I forgive you” without making the choice to act upon it.  As Donkey puts it in Shrek, “When there’s a will, there’s a way.”

consciousness of doubleness

Even though Carlson doesn’t articulate an absolute, all-encompassing definition of “performance” in his Introduction, he explains a few concepts that try to define what performance is…literally reinforcing the notion that performance is an “essentially contested concept”.  I found myself understanding each argument that Carlson explains. But I also found myself playing the devil’s advocate…thinking of situations where it could be considered a performance to one and not the other.  I found myself wondering if this is the heart of the issue--of it being a contested concept.  Does performance depend on the actions of the performer or audience, or is there a balance between the two? Carlson explains Bauman’s “highly suggestive attempt” of “consciousness of doubleness” in which all performance constitutes a carrying out of an action—whether “placed with a mental comparison with a potential, and ideal, or a remembered original model of that action…” (Carlson 5).   However, Carlson points out that what is key to what Bauman refers to in this double consciousness is not the external observation from the audience, but implies the internal observation of the performer.  Does this mean that the performer is the only one that decides if he or she is performing? Is there a double consciousness in an audience or spectator as well? Carlson gives an example of the athlete, having a mental standard of his own performance, where it is then argued that all performance is a performance for someone—whether for an audience or the self.

The question of whether a performance depends on the performer or the audience reminded me about Peter Brook’s chapter of “The Deadly Theatre” (from his book The Empty Space).  He comments on different circumstances and participants in the theatre, such as the actor, director, playwright, critic, and even audience, which can transform the art form into a “deadly theatre” (bad theatre).  This may be stretching the argument, but Brook writes about the relationship struggle between the performers on the stage and the audience. The Royal Shakespeare Company’s production of King Lear affected the Europe audiences much differently than the American audiences.  Both audiences brought different attitudes and life experiences to the production.  Europe’s concentration and excitement affected the actors on stage whereby they were moved and inspired.  The audience in America had an opposite reaction whereby much of the actors’ new found discoveries were thrown away (24-25).  Moreover, Mr. Brook’s “experiment” at his lecture further illustrates this dynamic.  He asked for volunteers to read an excerpt from Peter Weiss’s play, The Investigation, and Shakespeare’s Henry V.  Both readings had a different effect on the audience and volunteer.  Mr. Brook then engaged the audience to individually fill in their impressions of Auschwitz with Agincourt as the reader read the Shakespeare excerpt again.  The audience’s concentration began to guide the volunteer, just like in the previous reading from The Investigation (26-28). Both parties in each case knew there was a performance taking place, but they didn’t necessarily realize how important the relationship between them affected the experience of it.  The definition of a “good” performance, to the actors and audience, required both to participate in the experience. 

Even though Carlson’s article deals with defining performance outside of the traditional theatre, I can’t help but assert that the audience is an integral member of defining the experience and definition of a performance.  If we are searching for a definition of performance as an art form, we must realize there wouldn’t be an art form without an audience…an audience of spectators or of self.  A recognition from both is required to make it a performance; a “consciousness of doubleness” is inherent with both sides.