Showing posts with label UNSUSTAINABLE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UNSUSTAINABLE. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Reconsidering the Role of the Critic - does dance need dance criticism?

*Before you read this, check out the link in the post below to read the original discussion from Doug Fox's blog, Great Dance, that this post refers to.*

"Joan Acocella had better check her 'sell by' date because her article entitled 'Mystery Theater: Downtown surrealists' in the Aug 8 & 15, 2005 issue has the distinct odor of irrelevance. Her musings on my work and on that of the others mentioned are so badly observed and so off track that I have to speak up. Through her lack of understanding and her inability to reach out and get information from artists, she joins a group of critics whom I will call 'the literalists.' These critics do not know how to read dances created outside the restricted confines of the narrative or musical frameworks from past centuries. What's more, they don't do the work of finding out what is actually going on in the minds of artists or what are the contexts in which these works are created. They have reduced dance criticism to an explanatory, superficial, retelling of events steering the documentation of contemporary dance into an impenetrable forest, dark and mistaken."

-- Tere O'Connor, Letter to the New Yorker, posted October 14 on the Dance Insider.

Does dance need dance criticism? Does audience need dance criticism?
What is the role of the critic? What rules and duties are critics bound by, if any? Do we need to reconsider their role, or is it none of our business what (and how) they write about our work? I'd like to offer some thoughts:

1. The previous debate about this shows that everyone has an opinion, and a strong one at that. What seems clear to me after reading doug's discussion is that most of the comments made that agreed with Jowitt and Acocella (in that they didn't want to hear what the piece was about, they wanted to see it on stage) also cited a 'disconnect' between what the choreographer may have been saying or presenting and the work itself. In his response, Matt goes as far as to point this at the dance-tech choreographers in particular, although it is clear that other posters are talking about other types of dance as well (Karen, for example, cites ballet). The main concern, it seems, (and this is a concern that's been raised against my ideas, hypermedia and otherwise, over and over and over again) is that any talk, explication, or discussion of process or intention is in effect apologizing for the work itself if it isn't strong enough to convey these things on stage.

Why are we doing this to ourselves? I can't be the only one who feels like there's a direct link between the lack of dance being "explained", the lack of dance being studied, the lack of dance being seen, and the lack of dance being funded, but at times it feels like it. Yes. If the work is shit, then no amount of explaining could ever hope to save it - to argue otherwise is illogical. But that's not what we're saying when we talk about the need for and interest in choreographers dissecting and presenting their ideas and processes. And yes even "explaining".

To me, this "explaining" (your term, not mine) that choreographers are doing isn't acting as an apologist for their work. If the work is bad, it's bad. I don't think there's a singe person making work who thinks 'well, i can't get the movement in this part to work out, i'll just explain so people will understand' and i likewise doubt that most choreographers would think that they would have better odds working in the realm of words to convey something rather than movement. Certianly people want to defend their work. It's human. But if it's bad for you as an audience member it's bad for you, and no amount of words will likely change that. For me, when a choreographer wants to talk about "the ideas behind the piece" or "the process of making this section" it's an opportunity to learn. Potentially the most valuable experience i can have as a choreographer, listening to another maker talk about their process is a chance for me to consider their craft, intentions, product (and, yes, any differences between the two) as well as my own. It is a chance to broaden my understanding of how i make what i make, taking it from that vague abstract ether of "the muse" and making it a building block of skill and craft that i can then improve upon. "I find this satisfying aesthetically because..." "this happens here to echo the first phrase..." "i think this didn't end up working because..." "They said that was about what? I TOTALLY didn't get that. Why didn't i get that?"
Oh. I've learned something.

So, to me, it seems insane to dismiss a these discussions of process, intention, or craft that come from the choreographer because it is coming from the only person in the world who can tell you these things. I don't mean to imply that there aren't other people that couldn't tell you how the piece was made (the dancers for example) or choreographers that don't have a wealth of wisdom to share, but it seems odd that people are so affronted by someone wanting to share their wisdom. "Show it on the stage, then" which makes sense to me, but then i'm reminded by these same people that (to quote Leigh from the discussion) our audiences aren't "schoolchildren to be taught. They're guests to be welcomed. It's about them, not about us and our process." Let's face it. Product and craft are two different things. You wouldn't expect an author to include an explanation of the craft of his writing style in his novel, just the writing itself as evidence of it. But why would anyone take up arms against the author talking about his style? Wouldn't some people find it interesting? Couldn't people learn something from it?

2. Clearly, I'm all for choreographers talking process and intention, and i'm refuting the assumption that all talk of dance is as an apologist of bad work. So let's move on to the next step (yep, it's a long post kiddies). If we assume that choreographers have (gasp) a right to talk about their craft and dances - let's even assume that there's a legitimate need for it in society for those who are interested in hearing it - then what is the role of the critic?

It seems the critic has a few simple choices:
a) only look at the dance (let's call this "critic as audience")
b) look at the dance with inside information from the choreographer (let's call this "critic as confidant") or
c) become a mouthpiece for the ideas and intentions of the choreographer ("critic as teacher")

Now, about two years ago, i think i would have argued the third, that it is (or at least, should be) the job of the critic to help the audience learn about the production in question by gaining as much information as possible and then determining what could be most helpful to the average theatergoer. While i still think that would certainly be great for me, and many others who would be interested in getting "inside info" before seeing work (and while i think it's worth pointing out that major companies get this type of treatment while small upcoming choreogrpahers - who the audience perhaps needs the most "help" with - get only a few sentences), i no longer would argue that it falls to the critic's job description, real or desired.


Here's why.
In reading the comments on Doug's post, i realized that i did agree, in part, to what his critics were saying. It does seem somehow important, as Jeniffer Dunning puts it, "to respond as an informed audience member". That way, the critic really is just responding to what they are seeing, just as the audience will be asked to do, and in this way they are actually responding to the work in the way that an audience member might. (I'll hold off on my claim that this is impossible and so doing this is just pretending for this post.) As Joan Acocella puts it
"There's actually a word for that approach; it's the intentional fallacy in criticism (that is, you judge [a work] on its intentions). . . . I see myself as a member of the audience, so whatever the artist's intentions are, many of them—maybe most of them—I won't be able to discern."
Fine. Like i said, a few years ago i would have fought it tooth and nail, but right now i'm saying fine. This seems to point to the role of the critic as more of a ginuea pig than anything else (trying to represent how a "blind" audience will feel upon seeing this work for the first time) or an entertainment signpost (go see mark morris! don't see so and so!) rather than an educator or informed scholar, but so be it. If nothing else, this role for the critic is inherently FAIR, as it affords the critic the same experience as the viewer as much as possible.

So then.
This original argument that i'm talking about was from 2006 - back when Tere O'Connor responded to a review of his work that he found unhelpful and irrelevant by publishing the letter he sent to the new yorker in response on a few major dance site (click here if you haven't read it already - i can't even begin to explain how much it makes me swell with pride and excitement for the future). Clearly this argument is still very much happening, and i hate to say it, but repeating. So let's move on.
If we're going to insist that the critic mimic the same experience as the audience, so be it, but that won't really matter because...

(and here's the real issue:)
We need to stop asking EVERYONE (audience, critic, other) to only see a dance once, and we need to stop asking them to see it "blind". We need to stop thinking of dance critics as authorities on the craft of dancemaking - if they are mimicking the audience experience and hiding the fact that they posses "insider knowledge" (say...an awareness of most of the dance world, access to many more performances than most viewers, an audience that listens to their critique etc...) - if they want to be critics of the experience of being entertained, so be it, but let us think of them as such. And since it is not the critic's job to talk about The Dance itself, then it is our time, as choreographers, as skilled makers and thinkers who have something valuable that we can teach those who are interested in learning, to start "reviewing" - documenting, writing about, artifacting, and critiquing - ourselves.

Rather than fight against the idea that (again, gasp) dancers should be able to talk about their work, let's push all the way back and give the traditionalists something to take issue with. Why should we settle for having ANYONE see the dance only once, uninformed, or otherwise blind? No. The time to change the system is here, and there are people that are willing to fight for it. Me for one.

As of this moment, i do not know who the dance is for. But i do know that the terms of it are changing. Who is changing them? Me as the choreographer. It's my JOB. So listen to the critic, who's job it is to tell you about the experience of being entertained or frustrated, and how this thing that they've just seen looks on first viewing. And listen to the choreographer, who knows the dance better than they know anything else in the world, with a stronger love and hate that they afford anything else in their life, with more thought than is given to any other matter. Then listen to everyone else, yourself included, and you'll have the start of an understanding of what you're going to see.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Day Eight - How I want to use Hypermedia

So.
Back to this question of embalmment versus organ/orifice.

For me, the true power of hypermedia isn't that it preserves dance or gives it more context as a tool but how the abilities and possible styles of creating of a choreographer with that tool is changed. Now make no mistake, I don't think that this "evolution" that i'm talking about could take place without the specific functions of the hypermedia that i've laid out - preservation, education, context, process, giving voice to the audience - so it's definitely a symbiotic relationship. However, i've gotten many question about what the point of these functions are, especially from one of my dancers involved in the project. Her point seemed to be (and forgive/correct me if i'm off, Ilona) that if all of this beautiful art making and process was only being made so that it could preserve itself, then the act and point of making art had really lost value in her mind. That the hypermedia was a nice type of new art, but that it was somehow demoralizing that i was spending so much focus on the preservation and academizing of the art that it seemed to take away somehow from the art itself.

Now, my original response to this was something along the lines of what i've been saying - that the piece is still about the piece, and the hypermedia is just an artifact of that - but i've been thinking about her feelings on this ever since she said it.

I think i understand now that the hands down most important aspect of the hypermedia is that it completely changed my working process. I've said all along that if the hypermedia is nothing else, it's a tool to get me, one person, to make better work. However, i think that it's important that i go into a little more detail about how and why here, as it was the "most important" aspect of the entire project for me.

First, hypermedia allowed me to work harder and better on the piece that i was making. Because i was recording each rehearsal and then having to download and process the footage, I was participating fully in each one, then getting to sit back and watch the entire thing over again. In this way, i as the choreographer was rehearsing twice as much. I could let my mind wander about the piece, i could focus on specific detail, i could go on slow-mo and write extremly detailed notes for my performers, and i could catch things that i didn't see (or that were happening behind my back and across the room) the first time. I was working twice as had as i could normally work, because i was giving it twice as much time. And, although time was a huge part of it, i maintain that in many ways it was actually more helpful than having my dancers for that additional time, because it allowed me to be more thorough about what i already had. And anyway, in today's economy, who can afford to double their rehearsal time. Who has dancers with that much time to devote? Not me.

Second, it allowed me to get more information about the piece. As i mentioned, during the creation of the piece i was able to get more information by reviewing rehearsal footage, but it was really the information that i received after the piece was done that was the most surprising. First of all, the audience talk-back interface that we set up yielded some interesting, if not large in number, responses. While i still feel very much that the questions being asked is one of the biggest areas that needs honing, i was excited at many of the responses we received, and pleased with the ability it gave the audience to enter their voices into the project. Additionally, interviewing my dancers provided the most and most interesting information of the whole project, which i honestly hadn't anticipated. It was interesting to me, in looking at past pieces i've made and danced in, that while there's such an intense bond over the making of a dance, and there's an incredible amount of discussion about what's being made, there are inevitably a whole world of questions that don't get asked or answered. Getting to think about what i really wanted to know from my dancers (about three months after the performance) and getting to hear their response, felt like the biggest gift i could ever imagine. I can't really put into words how valuable i feel that was to me as a choreographer. In somewhere around seven hours of interviews (everyone combined) i received more insight to the piece, my dancer's minds, our collective understanding of the work, and insights into my creative process than I have ever ever ever received or given for a piece before. I was able to listen to everything they said and really try to learn from it as a choreographer. What did they understand about the piece that i didn't? What did they feel strongly about? What were they doing behind my back? What did they know about my creative process that i had never thought of. Interview your dancers. Interview your collaborators. Interview yourself. I can't stress the importance enough.

So hypermedia allowed me to work harder better and more, with more information both during and after the process. This is a good thing. These, to me, seem like new organs/orifices in the dance as a body. It is better for me. I am asking it to evolve, and it is evolving. Now, these may seem like minor evolutions, which is a fine point. One could argue that the hypermedia functions to me like any other choreographic tool used by any choreographer - that it simply allows them to produce something that they like more than if they were doing it without the use of that tool, activity, or way of thought. YES. For this is exactly what it is.

So then maybe this isn't really an evolution, you say. Maybe it's just a new type of activity to add to the countless list of how people make dances. Part of me disagrees with you, but i'll humor you for now. Viddy this, for here is how hypermedia is 100% a new organ for the body of dance:

It negates the biggest assumption/rule that modern dance now adheres to - that
dances must be watchable in one sitting, and after that one viewing of the piece, the audience member must have enough of a liking/understanding of that piece. This "judgment" if the piece isn't important in terms of like/dislike (i would argue that i've been interested in seeing a company perform again, even if i really disliked what i first saw because i was interested in it and wanted to see more) but IS important because it leads them to decide that they either "enjoyed the piece" "were moved by the piece" or "were interested by it" which in turn decides a.) if they will have interest in seeing this company perform again and b.) if they will donate to money or volunteer services to this company. We can agree (am i wrong about this?) that a dance company's artistic success is at least partially based on their economic success. So then what this system of dance fosters, is the artistic/economic success of a dance company being based on the test of if their pieces are enjoyable/understanding/interesting IN ONE VIEWING.

Not acceptable!
Not helpful!
and, let me say in the complete and utter seriousness that i parody myself with:
UNSUSTAINABLE!

What other form of art asks us to see a piece of art, and in only one viewing come to all the conclusions we will have about it? Our art is equally complex as any other form, and i maintain that it CANNOT be fully experienced or understood in one sitting. It just isn't possible.

Because of this, we have become self-limiting in our clarity. Now, i'm not saying that the pieces we're making right now are simple. They're not. They're complex as hell, and that's why i'm interested in this hypermedia system to help study them. BUT. We are all aware of that limitation. I'm not saying that our pieces are simple, but i am saying that we're all working under this "rule". What would happen if we stopped putting so much effort in striving for clarity within our work, and put all that effort into making the pieces incredibly complex and made ON OUR OWN TERMS? If we then commit to using something along the lines of hypermedia to help our audience understand what we are making, we can help them how to start to see the pieces we make on our terms, rather than on a different set of limitations that we never wanted in the first place.

Now, please note, i am not saying that the audience will then see what we want them to see in the piece, or be completely directed by what we're telling them. That would fail. What i'm suggesting is that we could start making these dense and complex works and then give the audience a study guide. They will of course take what they are going to take from it. But how can they begin to take, if they don't first have a window in? The best (and maybe one of the only) examples of this is Joyce's Ulysses (which maybe i'll talk more about tomorrow). The man writes a book that is nearly unreadable. It's thick, it's cryptic, it uses made up words, it's complex, and it's epic. If you get through it, there's no way you'll even begin to understand everything that's there in one reading of it. People devote their entire lives to the study of it, and still don't know everything about it. How could they? What did Joyce do? He write a study guide to go along with the novel so that people could begin to access it. Much like a modern dance, it would be impossible to understand everything about it. Even with Joyce's help, everyone sees something different.

So, much in the same way that we must first embalm the body to study it enough to know how to evolve new organs, and we must first grow new organs so that we are able to effectively embalm ourselves - The use of hypermedia allows us to make more and more complex pieces that, through the ability of study, allow us to negate the "need" for a once-seen piece and allow us to make work on our own terms. However, if we have any hope of anyone having interest in these pieces, we have to first educate our audiences about the dances that we are making now, so that they might have the opportunity to love dance the way we love dance. It's all cyclical, it's all symbiotic.

And THIS, in my mind, is why hypermedia is in fact new organs and orifices.
It's evolution, for those that want it.

For those who don't, it seems like it should be a harmless attempt at a new understanding of what dance could be. If it's just an "excuse for poorly made art", as some have said, then it will not be a threat to their perceived security in old/current forms. The only way, it seems, that it would truly be a threat, is if audiences start to feel like the old way needs to go, which (let me assure you as many have assured me this year)
won't happen any time soon.