#uphorium

At the end of February, I concluded the third phase of development for a performance project as part of the International Performance Ensemble at Pace University (see previous posts from 2015 about this project here, here and here). For each of the series of five public performances, I gathered the ensemble for an inspirational company meeting as part of our collective warm-up. At each meeting, I began with a reading that I hoped illustrated the power of our work; how nuanced and special performance is as a form and specifically how what we had created illustrated that point; how with great art comes great responsibility; and how nothing we do can be taken for granted.

Here are the five quotes I utilized, followed by brief commentary.

I.

Tom Block, Prophetic Activist Art, citing Kandinsky’s essay Concerning the Spiritual in Art:

As such, Kandinsky, when he was speaking or painting from his deepest place of power, stood in the Russian tradition of “art as service.” He said that, ultimately, “if the artist be priest of beauty,” s/he owes: …a triple responsibility to the non-artist:

1)    He must repay the talent which he has;

2)    His deeds, feelings and thoughts, as those of every man, create a spiritual atmosphere which is either pure or poisonous.

3)    These deeds and thoughts are materials for his creations, which themselves exercise influence on the spiritual atmosphere. The artist is not only a king … because he has great power, but also because he has great duties.

 II.

Amanda Palmer, The Art of Asking:

There’s a difference between wanting to be looked at and wanting to be seen.  

When you are looked at, your eyes can stay blissfully closed. You suck energy, you steal the spotlight. When you are seen, your eyes must be open, as you are seeing and recognizing your witness. You accept energy and you generate energy. You create light.

One is exhibitionism, the other is connection.

Not everybody wants to be looked at.

Everybody wants to be seen.

III + IV.

Anna Deveare Smith, “Presence,” Letters to a Young Artist.

Presence requires being aware. Presence requires paying attention. Presence requires using your intelligence. Presence requires allowing others to make an impact on you. This means putting your mind on them, not just on yourself.

Presence is not the same as attracting attention. It’s not a gimmick. It is not a brand. I said previously that presence was about “grabbing the light.” No. It’s about finding the light and being a part of it. These days, I believe that light might just be in the audience, with the public, in the world, among the possibilities of “us” human beings rather than in the language of “self.”

 V.

Jane Bennett, The Enchantment of Modern Life

The mood I’m calling enchantment involves, at first instance, a surprising encounter, a meeting with someone that you did not expect and are not fully prepared to engage. Contained within this surprise state are 1) a pleasurable feeling of being charmed by the novel and as yet unprocessed encounter and 2) a more unheimlich (uncanny) feeling of being disrupted or torn out of one’s default sensory-psychic-intellectual disposition. The overall effect of enchantment is a mood of fullness, plenitude, or liveliness, a sense of having one’s nerves or circulation or concentration powers turned up or recharged – a shot in the arm, a fleeting return to childlike excitement about life.

***

For me, these excerpts sequentially addressed key ideas behind the show we had created. Entitled UPHORIUM! (we made this), the performance was essentially a series of etudes regarding joy: how we might discover, understand, share, articulate, explore joy; its value; its transferent and often elusive nature; our own agency in locating and declaring its presence.  These etudes were all shared presentationally, as if a merry band of undergraduates thought it was a good idea to bring their research to unsuspecting audiences this way.

The most difficult parts of the show for the ensemble were matters of being not doing. They were sufficient in most aspects of memorization, repeating physical scores, etc. But in terms of being with each other and with the audience, here inconsistencies and insecurities were rampant. Moments wherein they spoke directly and with close proximity to the audience, such as welcoming them to their seats, offering them assistance, giving them the gift of a postcard to send to someone they love and/or appreciate, inviting them to ding a bell and redirect the action of the play, asking them to look under their seats for a special prize, and so on – these all had to be undertaken with a kind of delicacy and awareness that was new for each performer.

We cultivated these skills of presence throughout our time together last spring, but the large six-month break over summer and fall made an impact on the accessibility of these unfamiliar awarenesses. In order for the show to work, I needed them to stop acting first and start being first – being real human beings, themselves, making an invitation to dialogue called performance with each other and the assembled. I repeatedly acknowledged that aspects of our show were different than many others and therefore required a different kind of presence from the performers and a careful attention to the audience.

With Block’s summation/interpretation of Kandinsky, I wanted to highlight the power and responsibility that comes with being an artist. Everything the students did from the minute the audience entered the theater to the minute the ensemble exited the stage when the show was over contributed to a kind of atmosphere. Ideally, for us, one of UPHORIUM. Nothing was arbitrary, a throwaway, or undeserving of their fullest attention.

With Palmer’s ideas on connection, I wanted to illustrate how powerful individual connection is and how it is a two-way street. They could not impose connection on an unwilling audience but instead had to make an offering of themselves, a grounded but vulnerable offering, and be willing to be seen fully as themselves even as they were offering to fully see another person. With this kind of exchange comes incredible power. It is a gift, humbling and glorious.

With Smith’s thoughts on presence, I wanted to discuss how an awareness of presence makes cultivating connection even more possible, and that it is often about an other, not about the self.

And finally, Bennett’s definition of enchantment, at the root of all my work, was also cited in the program notes. I encouraged them to see that a surprise encounter with the unexpected was exactly what we had created, and that our intention was that our efforts could launch someone into an unanticipated but somehow familiar space of fullness, plenitude and liveness.