Prompt: Manifestos
So. Art and tragedy huh?
Last week (seems a
lot further back) we perused a hefty amount of material covering an
expanse of artistic development over time. That is, all these movements
have a place in the history of art – but do they
feature as much in the history of the world? I know that as I read
these manifestos, I rolled my eyes in all the comfort of my cynicism.
“What on earth were these people going on about?” I thought, patting
myself on the back for having a better grasp on reality
than these dreaming lunatics.
Essentially, I was
asking; “On what planet were they living, when they thought they could
use art to change the course of life?” I had to admit to myself – rather
grudgingly – that I was simultaneously jealous
and terrified. Art as I know it is safe because it is not real. Even
when it “gets real” or “deep”, I am consoled by that little voice in my
head telling me that it will be okay because it is simply a performance.
My “modern” mind has learned to separate life
from art as cleanly as I think I can separate my mind from my heart.
But, like water and air, there will always be a small percentage of one
in the other unless we are to turn the planet into a giant laboratory –
and that’s no fun – unless it is Dexter’s –
but I digress.
Of all the manifestos
that we studied in the past week, none leaps out as boldly as that of
the “cruel” Antonin Artaud. Brecht had his Verfremdungseffekt, and
Marinetti had his urgency. Duchamp had his farce,
but Artaud possessed the streak of genius only available to the
clinically insane. This is not a gibe on my part; this is how the
writings of Artaud were expressed to me prior to this engagement with
his work. My well-meaning professor always ended our classes
on the Theatre of Cruelty with an offhand “But of course, he was
completely insane.” For a long time after that it was impossible to
separate the man from his stint in the happy house, and my opinion of
him was baked into the cake of his lunacy.
However, when we
began to discuss Artaud in this performance theory class, there emerged a
sense of reverence for the man without whom Marina Abramovic’s Rhythm
Series would not have been possible.
(Rhythm Zero)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?
Artaud’s desire for a
return to the primitive, ritualistic and instinctual urges of man
demanded that we cease the deceit of polite theatre and shock the
audience with all the wonder of their baseness. Rather
than separate the audience from what they were watching, Artaud desired
to make their responses part of the performance. Like Stockhausen,
Artaud “…was claiming an importance for art in the real world…art that
is action, not representation.” Reading Jet Of
Blood however, proves the sheer impossibility of staging the kind of
work promoted in the manifesto. The desire for carnage is only satisfied
in reality. When human life is threatened it quickly moves away from
the land of make-believe and into the very real
balance of life and death. Sure, there are those who would die for art,
but let us not group the single fanatic with the innocent art-lovers.
Because lovers of art are surely innocent, are they not?
Richard Schechner
makes the connection between various manifestos and the 9/11 attacks,
saying that “…the attack can be understood as the actualization of key
ideas and impulses driving the avant-garde …” Later
on, when he describes how he observed the attack from the opportune
view of his terrace, there is an HD quality to his account. Gathered
with his family and loved ones, far away from the tragedy, they
proceeded to watch. Not with malice or sadism, but with
the detached contentment that Antonin Artaud was fighting so hard to
eradicate from the theatre.
There is no doubt
that all these movements – these “isms” – have been integral in shaping
art as we know it today. From futurism to post modernism, human kind has
created, recreated, denounced, acclaimed and
declared his understanding of the world around him. Or is it the other
way around?
Schechner’s analysis of the September 11th
attacks got me thinking about the relationship between art and life. At
the most basic level, I am going to assume that we are all familiar
with the argument
that life begets art, and that art imitates life. This entity known as life is all that is
original and real, and art only exists through its imitation of this reality. The
real also indicates a level of seriousness; implies a loftiness
which denotes the inability for life to descend to the level of
manufacture. (A point strongly contested by Jean Baudrillard) And yet
the doom of “real life” lies in that very word. When
plan our comings and goings as though they were scripted, do we not
imitate art? When we create structures within which we operate and
relate with those around us, do we not imitate the artistic stage
relationship? When we shoot innocent people in cities far
away and refer to them as “collateral damage” in the style of an action
movie, do we not imitate art? (Rather distastefully? It’s
uncomfortable, isn’t it?)
Or are we imitating
art, which imitated a past life, which was imitating a past art which
imitated an even further past life? Is this all just one big photocopy? A
rabbit hole for another day.
To return to the
point, Artaud, Brecht, Marinetti, Duchamp and others may not necessarily
have had the same agenda, but they all had one thing in common; they
tore the veil between reality and art. Rather than
curate art in the style of their contemporaries, they broke the
apparatus and sought to wreak havoc on the planet with a deadly
combination of violence and intelligence. Many works of art seek to rock
the earth, but seldom do any succeed. Unless you count
9-11 as a work of art, or the Columbine Massacre as good material for a
video game.
I felt icky just googling that. It would seem, from Schechner’s beautifully-written-yet-
I challenge you to
seek out and reflect upon an artistic response to a tragic event. Is it
tactless or tasteful? Does it make you feel complicit in the
“media-fication” of the tragedy? What makes it art? Does
it go too far? Can anything excuse the fact that it may have just
stepped over the line?
After a brief
reflection, go a step further and write a mini manifesto that would have
inspired this kind of art work. Think of the manifesto as one of
Marinetti’s speeches before their performances. It is
not a reflection of the tragedy (As the Dadaists did not directly quote
the influence of WW1), but rather an eruption of ideas and thoughts
towards the kind of work that should be being made.
I look forward to hearing from you,
Thanks and God bless,
Sarah Nansubuga.
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