Monday, August 13, 2012

Existential

I promise that I will soon post something more understandable.  But hang on for another whirlwind.

All artists need to recognize that a creation exists on its own.  That is to say regardless of what the artist wants it to be, once created, the work is something on its own.  An example:
Two muffins are sitting in the oven.  One muffin turns to the other and says "Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?"  The second muffin cried "Holy cow! A talking muffin!"
Now, some people will find that joke funny because of the irony.  Others may laugh at the mental image of two talking muffins.  Still others may not find it funny at all.  And some may not even understand it.  Similarly, I, as the person who typed the lines above, may fall into any of those categories.  The original author of the joke (a clear genius) may fall into any of those categories.  Or not.  Maybe the original author held an inside joke where 'muffin' was a code-word for a specific group of people and someone who was not on the inside of the joke, repeated it because of the irony.  No one knows.  But the fact remains that the joke is still typed above.  Go ahead and look.  It is still there.  Therefore the existence of the joke and its interpretation by readers is in no way connected to the intention of the writer.

Let's carry this a bit farther.  A piece of choreography changes a lot.  I've been in pieces which were changed in the wings just prior to the music starting.  It can happen.  But whatever happens while on stage, this is the concrete piece.  It is the visual representation that the audience sees.  It exists on its own.  A choreographer may slave away to create a piece meant to communicate X.  Almost 95% or even 99.999% of the audience may see X.  But the fact is, even that 99.999% receive X through the lens of their own mind. It has nothing to do with the choreographer's intention.*  Let's take another example:
I'm creating a new piece about the Russian Revolution.  I want to make absolutely certain that my audience understands that this is about the history of the Russian Revolution, the facts.  Therefore I include a narrator who not only tells the story of the Russian Revolution but also interprets each and every movement throughout the piece and explains how it embodies the Revolution.
You may not think there is any way to not 'get' this.  Yet someone in the audience may see the constant droning of the narrator as the embodiment of the subversive Communist party pulling the strings of the actual Bolsheviks.  Or it might be seen as a voice of propaganda.  And yet someone else may see a clever twist on the voice of current media streams and a shot at modern politics.  The point is this:  the choreographer has NO control over what the audience chooses to see.

And this is beautiful.  It takes the onus of interpretation off of the choreographer.  One does not have to worry if people will get it or if they are being clear enough without being too literal.  A choreographer may create a work in whatever way they wish and seek only to reach people.  It doesn't matter how those people are reached.  I once had the opportunity to work with Dawn Stoppiello of Troika Ranch, during the creation of Loop Diver.  The piece is very heavy and the sound score is frankly difficult to listen to.  She told me that she didn't care if audience members laughed, cried, walked out of the show, or sat with rapt attention.  Each of those was an equally valid reaction and meant that she had communicated with them.  They didn't need to know the years of work and thought that went into the piece.  They didn't even have to like it.  As long as they felt something, she considered it a success.  We all have something to learn from this view of art.

*It is also prudent to mention the difference between intention and action.  Clearly what the choreographer does impacts what the audience sees.  This is how a dance is created, a choreographer does something.  What I am pointing out is that the inspiration, intention, or message a choreographer creates with/from is in no way related to what an audience member sees.

1 comment:

Kimberleigh said...

Dude. This is completely understandable.

There is a seed in this that I super-connect to. You create a piece with whatever intention you may or may-not have in your head, you finish it, and then you just let it go, release the hounds. The beauty in creating is what happens at that point, my favorite part in showing something I made is hearing what viewers come back with... their story within a story, their translation, the random little thing that hits them so hard emotionally that was perhaps even unplanned on my behalf.

At the same time, while response to the piece is kind of spontaneous and at times an experiment, it's the creator's job not to release total crap! The piece should always be something you care about and take some pride in (keyword should... it's easy to get blinded by the need to produce) since, you're right!, it will always be out there, be it floating on cyber space/youtube, or in someone's mind!

The glimpse you provide in this entry at part of the choreographer's job description made me realize it's almost the antithesis of the lighting designer. The ld gets away with guiding the audience's eyes around the space, and showing only what they wish to show. At the same time, no one ever really actively recognizes this happening, while viewing, and no one ever really gives creation credit to an LD for their work on the show, whereas what you see on stage is automatically linked to the choreographer/director.

I like this entry. I seriously hate the word onus, however. Points deducted.