A Tribute to John Ashbery: An Imitation of “The Other Tradition”
[Another Convention]
They all went, some wore snagged notions
Braided into their hems, whispering the haste
Of the era, and indeed Jupiter spits its rocks
From the wrought-iron black balcony while
Apologetically dabbing its mouth, and all emotions shuffle
In the dirt under the stairs when she’s sweeping:
The eternal flow of traffic, the blisters,
The nostalgic Mickey Mouse waffles, and through it
The whistle of my generation streaking conscientiously into farces
Confusing night, dripping sex into syrup at every moment
Past the telescope: the wrong end of it all.
Only then did you stare into the television,
Unable to focus the billions of pixels taking their place, or
Scribble the subliminal. More beds
Were brought, and light bulbs smashed, but the sounds
Tattled on its waves so that no one heard how it happened
After Jesus waited outside. People on the first
Circus tightrope, squatting up and down, until splitting
Five hundred decibels across the horizon
And the show was canceled on Ohio’s border.
The string on my finger
Says they lost you, after a shower, in your tented towel,
Literate as a mosquito in a doctor’s office.
The tightrope life was higher then. Swaying, each of the
Gypsies has a new fortune for philanthropists
Who weren’t steady enough to finish, forfeiting their costumes
To the event, and how, though spectators
Wrung their towels dry, if only to nearly
Fly away, yet still bogged down in a dreary faker
After that stuffy self-awareness years before,
Now the song of the street has muted itself
Over the magnanimity of the spectacle. You found this
Perfunctory, and stuck up your eyelids toward the lamp,
Painting your pictures on the globe, not seeing
Or caring, although everything must die musically
And all things released, told yes and no
Caught in and out of the twisted iron bars
They have so much trouble remembering when your
Forgetting
Redeems them at once, as the moon claims the sky.
Nov 24, 2007
Nov 20, 2007
Why I Make Art
My culturally savvy pastor sent me this paragraph from a Christian theater blog he stumbled upon and asked me this: "As an artsy, Bobo-ish, literati type [note: I found that description both humorous and flattering], are you sympathetic, semi-sympathetic, or skeptical of the following comment:"
This is my response:
I am very skeptical and semi-sympathetic. Yes, artists quest for truth. And yes, they feel like the truth they search for is unappreciated and misunderstood. But, it is completely arrogant (which is different from being elitist) to say that one is "mining things that are Real But May Not Have Existed Before I Found Them." Artists do NOT create ex nihilo (even if they emphasize the mining over creating). Artists are not God. They cannot find something if it didn't exist before. That statement is ridiculous and it is using the typical artsy rhetoric of "let me impress people with 'deep' philosophizing (and spell words the British way) even though I am not actually thinking about what I may be saying."
And yes, actors are priests. So are bakers. So are doctors. We are a common priesthood of believers. God does not view artists any more highly than a cashier. Why? Because we are all working with what he has given us. Artists are copy-cats of God--there can be no artistic pride in that since un-originality is the feared enemy of art. The pride of an artist ought to be in his/her ability to see something the way God has already seen it and already created it and then sharing that with others who were not aware of that particular perspective. Thus, the material of artists is not that which is "real but which has not existed before I found them," but rather their material is that which is real but which limited humans did not know existed until God revealed it to them through their art. Art is simultaneously a means of discovery and a means of communicating a discovery. Even in the theater, you cannot say that you are on a quest for a truth which has not yet existed, because all that is truth already exists, whether an actor discovers it on the stage or not.
Furthermore, to liken what this person calls their material to a shy flower is 1) A bad analogy because a flower that refuses to bloom is closed and a closed flower is more sturdy than an open one. And truth is not fragile. It is steely strong. 2) Theater, and art in general, is not about delicately sustaining a fragile flower and hoping that if you stand still, hold your breath, and stare at it really hard it will open itself up to you. Art is about getting a sledgehammer and beating through our dense heads, sinful nature, calloused hearts, sealed eyes and trying to find layer after layer of delicate, profound, harsh, etc. truths. Kafka says, it is the ax the breaks the frozen sea within us. Now, sometimes this sledgehammer might need to work through nuances of language, a gentle scene on the stage or a silent rest in a song, but it must have an impact. Art is not about doing nothing (not breathing, not moving too fast, not speaking). Art is proactive! It is about trying to pry open that flower petal by petal and seeing what is hiding inside. And the flower only humors an artist if its creator gives it permission to allow its petals to be peeled back. But when the artist becomes privy to what is inside, it is the greatest privilege. And that is why I want to make art.
I realized today that I do theatre because I quest for Truth. It's not that dogmatic stuff that fundies snobbishly label "absolute truth," nor is it a relativized, "whatever-you-believe-is-fine-for-you" postmodern brand of truth--and it's certainly not the kind of martial, menacing truth that political opponents are flinging in each other's faces this time of year. The kind of truth that I am after is the truth of me being more me than I've ever been before, of mining things that are Real But May Not Have Existed Before I Found Them. Does anyone other than the actor understand this kind of truth? I don't know. Call me elitist, but we are elite. We are a priesthood. The material we mediate? I liken it to a rare, shy flower that refuses to bloom if you look at it directly. Fragile and pink-skinned, you can see the fluids pulsating just beneath its veiny, paper-thin petals. . . breath the wrong way and it will turn in on itself and wilt.
This is my response:
I am very skeptical and semi-sympathetic. Yes, artists quest for truth. And yes, they feel like the truth they search for is unappreciated and misunderstood. But, it is completely arrogant (which is different from being elitist) to say that one is "mining things that are Real But May Not Have Existed Before I Found Them." Artists do NOT create ex nihilo (even if they emphasize the mining over creating). Artists are not God. They cannot find something if it didn't exist before. That statement is ridiculous and it is using the typical artsy rhetoric of "let me impress people with 'deep' philosophizing (and spell words the British way) even though I am not actually thinking about what I may be saying."
And yes, actors are priests. So are bakers. So are doctors. We are a common priesthood of believers. God does not view artists any more highly than a cashier. Why? Because we are all working with what he has given us. Artists are copy-cats of God--there can be no artistic pride in that since un-originality is the feared enemy of art. The pride of an artist ought to be in his/her ability to see something the way God has already seen it and already created it and then sharing that with others who were not aware of that particular perspective. Thus, the material of artists is not that which is "real but which has not existed before I found them," but rather their material is that which is real but which limited humans did not know existed until God revealed it to them through their art. Art is simultaneously a means of discovery and a means of communicating a discovery. Even in the theater, you cannot say that you are on a quest for a truth which has not yet existed, because all that is truth already exists, whether an actor discovers it on the stage or not.
Furthermore, to liken what this person calls their material to a shy flower is 1) A bad analogy because a flower that refuses to bloom is closed and a closed flower is more sturdy than an open one. And truth is not fragile. It is steely strong. 2) Theater, and art in general, is not about delicately sustaining a fragile flower and hoping that if you stand still, hold your breath, and stare at it really hard it will open itself up to you. Art is about getting a sledgehammer and beating through our dense heads, sinful nature, calloused hearts, sealed eyes and trying to find layer after layer of delicate, profound, harsh, etc. truths. Kafka says, it is the ax the breaks the frozen sea within us. Now, sometimes this sledgehammer might need to work through nuances of language, a gentle scene on the stage or a silent rest in a song, but it must have an impact. Art is not about doing nothing (not breathing, not moving too fast, not speaking). Art is proactive! It is about trying to pry open that flower petal by petal and seeing what is hiding inside. And the flower only humors an artist if its creator gives it permission to allow its petals to be peeled back. But when the artist becomes privy to what is inside, it is the greatest privilege. And that is why I want to make art.
Nov 12, 2007
The Ubiquitous Self
A presumptuous appendage to Walker Percy's Self Help Quiz found in his Lost in the Cosmos
(21) THE UBIQUITOUS SELF: How the Self finds itself in everything, which results either in arrogance, humility, or suicide.
Question: While standing in the grocery store deciding what the best value of toilet paper is to buy, an old college acquaintance comes up to you, shows both surprise and excitement at seeing you, and asks how you are doing. But before you can answer, this friend launches into a rant about the last package of TP she bought and the pros and cons of certain brands. You respond by nodding politely and zoning out while thinking about what kind of cereal to buy next. Then you hear about the ultra-sandy TP her roommate bought and you immediately jump back into the conversation. What drew you back into this acquaintance's toilet paper world?
(a) You are obsessed with finding the most plush TP in order to avoid a sandy rub.
(b) You are environmentally conscientious and you know that sandy TP has been proven by muskrats in Ohio to be harmful to creek beds, and so you feel it is your responsibility to share this fact with your friend.
(c) You know that either you join in the conversation now and try to wrap it up or you will never get to your Honey Nut Cheerios.
(d) Human beings are only interested in that in which they see themselves, and if you wait long enough, you will see yourself in everything. At the store, you could relate to your friend's sandy plight because your roommate recently subjected you to the same thing. And so, because you could see yourself in her story, you were immediately hooked.
(CHECK ONE)
Thought Experiment: Think about anything. Then decide why you are thinking about it. What's its relevance to you? How did the thought come to you and thus how did you come to enter into the thought? In some way the self is not only in your thoughts, but in the object of your thoughts. Now think about something else. Once again, did you find the self in the thought and in the thing? Now try to look at something, listen to something, feel something, anything. Were you able to do so while leaving the self behind?
Regardless of what you answered to the multiple choice question above, the self was embedded into your friend's TP tales because one's self is ubiquitous to itself. This can be a horribly depressing thought if you are one who does not want your self to be disseminated unto the ends of the earth (or at least the ones you venture into). Or it can be a revelation that results in hubris because you are drunk with the possibilities of perpetuating yourself. Or it may make you feel utterly insignificant because you are only one part of a million zillion other parts and have no particular claim on anything for what is not rare is not special. Or it can make anything interesting to you because with a little reflection, you will discover that you should have a vested interest in everything.
Thought Experiment (II): Try to find some theological truths that support the ubiquitous self. Think about how the ubiquitous self might/might not support some theological truths. Think about how this idea might become heresy. Now think about what your most successful toilet paper purchase has been and write it down so that next time you go to the store you will know exactly what to buy.
(21) THE UBIQUITOUS SELF: How the Self finds itself in everything, which results either in arrogance, humility, or suicide.
Question: While standing in the grocery store deciding what the best value of toilet paper is to buy, an old college acquaintance comes up to you, shows both surprise and excitement at seeing you, and asks how you are doing. But before you can answer, this friend launches into a rant about the last package of TP she bought and the pros and cons of certain brands. You respond by nodding politely and zoning out while thinking about what kind of cereal to buy next. Then you hear about the ultra-sandy TP her roommate bought and you immediately jump back into the conversation. What drew you back into this acquaintance's toilet paper world?
(a) You are obsessed with finding the most plush TP in order to avoid a sandy rub.
(b) You are environmentally conscientious and you know that sandy TP has been proven by muskrats in Ohio to be harmful to creek beds, and so you feel it is your responsibility to share this fact with your friend.
(c) You know that either you join in the conversation now and try to wrap it up or you will never get to your Honey Nut Cheerios.
(d) Human beings are only interested in that in which they see themselves, and if you wait long enough, you will see yourself in everything. At the store, you could relate to your friend's sandy plight because your roommate recently subjected you to the same thing. And so, because you could see yourself in her story, you were immediately hooked.
(CHECK ONE)
Thought Experiment: Think about anything. Then decide why you are thinking about it. What's its relevance to you? How did the thought come to you and thus how did you come to enter into the thought? In some way the self is not only in your thoughts, but in the object of your thoughts. Now think about something else. Once again, did you find the self in the thought and in the thing? Now try to look at something, listen to something, feel something, anything. Were you able to do so while leaving the self behind?
Regardless of what you answered to the multiple choice question above, the self was embedded into your friend's TP tales because one's self is ubiquitous to itself. This can be a horribly depressing thought if you are one who does not want your self to be disseminated unto the ends of the earth (or at least the ones you venture into). Or it can be a revelation that results in hubris because you are drunk with the possibilities of perpetuating yourself. Or it may make you feel utterly insignificant because you are only one part of a million zillion other parts and have no particular claim on anything for what is not rare is not special. Or it can make anything interesting to you because with a little reflection, you will discover that you should have a vested interest in everything.
Thought Experiment (II): Try to find some theological truths that support the ubiquitous self. Think about how the ubiquitous self might/might not support some theological truths. Think about how this idea might become heresy. Now think about what your most successful toilet paper purchase has been and write it down so that next time you go to the store you will know exactly what to buy.
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