My dad is an artist, and so growing up, during family
vacations, art museums were almost always part of the itinerary. However, this
did not foster an understanding and appreciation in me for modern art as one
might expect or hope. It wasn’t that I disliked it; it was more that I was
indifferent to it, puzzled by it, coming to a lot of the same conclusions as
other people, like, “well, I could splatter paint on a canvas like that too. In
fact, a three year old could do that.” You know, the usual comments we hear
about modern art. However, during this class, I started questioning my
conceptions of modern art. There wasn’t necessarily one particular article or
one particular artist that we talked about that suddenly had me in a tale-spin,
it was more of a gradual shift in thought due to many class conversations and
articles.
I
am fascinated and frustrated by this concept of art being like a wheel that
keeps moving forward. There is a sense that ideas are recycled and re-used but
in a new frame or context, so that there is a progress to the recycling. Idealistically,
I would like to think that there are still endless possibilities for theatre
and art that have not been explored. Perhaps, that is not so impossible to hope
for, but chances are that most things to come will be some form of
reincarnation of what has come before.
Not a bad thing necessarily. My frustration comes from a feeling that
theatre and art are kind of stuck right now, as though this evolving wheel has
gotten caught up on some gum, or is rolling through molasses. Theatre is losing
its power, there isn’t a lot of importance focused on the arts, and there isn’t
a whole lot of funding for the arts either. So in class, when we started
talking about different art movements that I might previously have found
ridiculous or been indifferent too, I found myself having a growing
appreciation and admiration for their determination to explore something new
and different, turn the tide of art, make people question things, turn the
tables, etc. Like the Futurists, for example, I don’t feel a huge connection to
their work, and if I saw it performed, I may absolutely hate it, but they were
reacting to what came before them and trying to explore something totally
different, and in doing so, they created a new conversation in the art world.
There
was also a day in class when Dr. Fletcher talked about Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut. One of the characters in
the story having a moment where he addresses a group of people about his art,
as they have been saying such things as I mentioned above, “a three year old
could do this.” In this speech, he says something along the lines of: he wishes
a three year old had made his art; he wishes that a three year old could come
to the same conclusions and revelations and simplicity in one blissful moment
that it took him many years and painful experiences to discover. I could be
butchering this moment horribly, but the conversation we had in class about it
struck me. If I think about what we try to accomplish in our acting work all
the time, it is trying to take all the knowledge and experience we have as
humans that make us complex and interesting, but then distill it all down to a
fundamental sense of imagination, curiosity, listening, responding, being in
the moment, and all these things are things that come naturally to children.
So, why should I look at a piece of art that looks like it has been made by a
child and let that be all I see? Why shouldn’t I look at it and see a childlike
wonder combined with the pain, complexities, and knowledge of an adult?
Suddenly, with that lens, I am much more interested in what the piece is
saying.
We
also watched a clip of Marina Abramovic’s The
Artist is Present, which then prompted me to watch the whole documentary on
Netflix. Previously, Performance
Art had always been something that escaped me. So often it just seemed to be
weird and interpretive for the sake of being weird and interpretive. Perhaps,
this conception stemmed from a Performance Art class on Fluxus that I took
while studying abroad. I never had any idea what was going on in that class.
When I think back on it now, all I remember is a girl shaving a kiwi and
throwing it into the audience. Why? I have no clue. But when I watched Marina’s
documentary, I was captivated. Maybe, it was because it was about presence and
that has been a hot topic for us lately, but I found her passion, dedication,
and need to share through art incredibly profound. I ceased to think of it as
weird and interpretive, and instead found myself viewing her work as an
expression of her. There is an intense need in her to express something to the
world and her art is the most visceral and powerful way she could find to
express it.
These
are just a couple of examples, but I have found myself being much more open to
finding the meaning behind something and not writing things off at face value
just because they seem ridiculous, simple, or outlandish.
