Whose story is this anyway? The rights and the wrongs of theatrical storytelling.
- December 12th, 2011
- Posted in Commentary
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I’ve been thinking about story ownership.
Quite a bit actually.
At a recent writer’s forum as a part of Novemberism, the question was asked – “can you be sued for telling someone else’s story?”
Well – yes – if the story is defamatory – if the names are unchanged and harmful to the life and career of that person – if you get the facts wrong and it has an adverse affect on their life. Yes.
(Yes, it’s interesting, isn’t it? The law and the arts – especially when a lot can be dismissed as (and art is quite a slippery thing) what is fact, what is fiction – what is in the eye of the beholder? What is ownership – who owns the rights to what and when – when is it original, and when is it an homage? When is it art? When is it not? Fascinating topic.)
The question then extends into the “right” to tell a story.
Once, when working with an indigenous group in Canada, I was told I wasn’t permitted to be told what a certain song meant because I was not of the indigenous culture. I was allowed to hear the song being sung, but not allowed to know it’s significance. I found that very interesting – that story was both a public yet exclusive act.
On another occasion, a conversation with my brother, who has lived in Korea for over 12 years, had questioned why writers, why artists should be paid for expressing themselves – because surely everyone in the world expresses themselves and is therefore “an artist.” He said, “it’s like paying someone because they can breathe.” “Is it?” I wondered. Again, I find this interesting.
And now recently, I had written an observation whilst observing rehearsals for Michal Imielski’s How To Lose Sight – which you can find here: https://classic.augustasupple.com/2011/11/refusing-to-lose-sight-observing-michal-imielski-in-rehearsal-for-how-to-lose-sight/
Just after the preview, and just before opening night I received this fascinating message/comment from “Jandek.”
“Here is an idea, why not have real blind actors who have lost sight, conveying their real emotions and experiences? Instead we have a bunch of upper middle class wankers who took a drama class or two at their respective private schools pretending to be blind. What a joke, waste of time and government money. Money that would be better spent on guide dogs. Shame on you for losing this wonderful chance to use blind actors instead of white bred mime artists. Such is the price of wankery. I wonder who really is blind here?”
And I’ve been sitting on this message for a while (2 weeks) because I really wanted to think about it. I wanted to consider Jandek’s response on a larger scale – not just in this specific context.
And now, I have come to a response, I wanted Jandek’s comment to get more of a platform than a “comment” on an older post.
I will, firstly as a means of superficially addressing the comment, quickly note this:
This project was conceived by a director/performance maker who has sight. He makes work from the perspective of someone who has sight. All he has known his whole life is living with sight. In his work he asks himself and the sighted audience to consider life without sight.
Additionally SHH had posted invitations to the vision impaired community to be involved in the creation of the work, through Accessible Arts and Vision Australia – he had some responses from people keen but unavailable for performances. (but yes, an effort was made for a collaboration there.)
As far as the “upper middle class wankers” goes… I pretty much understand that most (if not all the artists working on this project) do not come from the upper classes. Nor are they “white bred mime artists” – I think How to Lose Sight contained one of the most multicultural casts I’ve ever seen with actors who’s ethnicity was caribbean, asian, polish, french – a colour blind cast (not colour-conscious cast) if ever I had witnessed it. And also – I’m not sure that any of the actors went to private schools – and for a few of them – that was a long time ago.
Those are just some points I thought I’d make.
Now as a broader comment – I thought it apt to perhaps suggest that I think it would be a very dull and mono-cultural experience for audiences if artists were only allowed or authorized (by government funding – or by social expectation) to make art from their own lives. We would then be subjected to MANY , MANY more stories about poor, (predominantly) white theatre-makers trying to get funding, recognition and maintain relationships and keep up with the everyday demands of life.
An artist trying to come to terms with what vision gives and takes from us is a question which is interesting whether or not the makers are sighted or not.
This is a show by created by those unique artists in that space at that time.
I do agree, with Jandek, I think it would be interesting to see a work of visual/movement based/physical theatre made by people who are vision impaired. But that’s not this show. This show was made by people with sight.
I believe that it is within an artists prerogative to discuss and reveal and question anything they want to – if Alana Valentine wants to write about issues facing 20-year old heterosexual men in regards to feminism, or perhaps the wearing of the hijab by Muslim women – great. That is HER line of enquiry and discussion – and it reaches beyond her own personal self and realm. And if a man wants to write about women – why not?
Is there no scope, no room for imagination – or compassion – or universal human understanding?
Does it mean that we can only have stories of rape told by rape victims? Or perhaps a story such as that of Oedipus can only be performed and directed by those who have married their mothers. Should we only have stories about refugees played by refugees? (I think you get a sense of how quickly this can descend into a coil of unsustainable and weird parallels – eg Hamlet’s ghost would only be able to be played by a dead person…. yep – tricky.)
But it’s an interesting thing to consider – who has the right to tell which stories? And who owns our stories? Can anyone tell any story they want? Should they be allowed to? Who has the right to write?
There are stories – my stories, about my life – which I feel I don’t have permission to tell. How much of this is being aware of the ownership of other people in the story, and how much of this is me wanting to protect myself from too many people knowing my stories, I don’t know. But the other week, I read parts of my story in a play that someone else wrote, and I sobbed through the whole thing. I don’t know if it was the playwright’s story or not, but it was such a release to read, to know that someone has permission to tell it, even if I can’t give that permission to myself yet.
This is a really interesting and difficult question, and I don’t think there can be one correct answer as contexts are always so different. In the case of Indigenous stories though, ownership is a particularly fraught issue. I recently looked at this question for uni assessment, in the context of the YA novel Deadly, Unna? by Phillip Gwynne. The problem is that different cultures have different values. The Western artistic tradition privileges freedom of expression, originality and the rights of the individual artist, and so there is opposition to what is seen as censorship. However in Indigenous Australian cultures, tradition is prioritised, and just as native title rights belong to a group, so does their culture, history and stories. This is why there are often very strict cultural protocols like the one you observed in Canada. Of course this is a very simple summary of the issue. In my research I found a really good article dealing with the legal, moral and philosophical questions around free speech vs cultural protocols. “Imagination, fraud and the cultural protocols debate: a question of free speech or pornography?” by Stephen Gray can be found here: http://www.lawapps.law.unimelb.edu.au/cmcl/malr/contents91.html
Eg. presumably none of us know what it is to be a mother who killed her children so i guess let’s never stage Medea again as we can never understand her and even if her story could serve as an allegory as we don’t know first hand what she went through i guess there’s no point trying to understand.
OK sorry about the sarcasm…
The line of argument from ‘Jandek’ reveals a very narrow idea of what art can be. I’d like to hear more from Jandek of what they feel art is and why there should be limitations on who makes it and about what. Is it purely expression as you’ve raised at one point Augusta? Also is theatre purely a work of art? It is not. At the top end of town you have works driven for cash that wind up not as art but entertainment, then you’ve got works created by heavily subsidised academics and then the performance might wind up as a work of research also. There’s a myriad of purposes that art and our art form especially, theatre, can have and serve and it would be a great shame to think that anyone should limit what they speak to as long as they speak with authenticity. But also back to allegory, it seems to me strange that ‘Jandek’ thinks the purpose of theatre is any less worthy than guide dogs and stranger yet that they are at all comparable.
Hi Jane, Thanks for your comment. I think it’s interesting the relationship we have to stories – and the people within our own stories – for none of us live in a vacuum. Even if we tell our story – it still implicates others in our lives and so it is a yawning, inter-linking, interpersonal, multi-personed art – even in it’s most simplistic manifestation.
Additionally for me – everything I write, or direct – experiences the splashes of my private/personal and my intellectual life. Art and life splash each other in the act of me making something – they are forever interlinked and actors I work with know this – my directorial process is confessional, intimate, personal – it’s just how I work. So when I present a work – it is very much from me – and I implicate all those around me – I draw from everyone in my life – and for some that’s the joy/agony of having me as a friend… and for others, well they don’t see my work (they don’t want to know.)
But story – whomever’s it is, should be a personal expression of a question the artist has about their life. And for me, it’s authenticity is what matters the most.
Yes Anna,
Thanks for writing in. Indeed, you are absolutely right. Different cultures regard story differently- for some it is private and personal – some spiritual – and I think the answer depends on cultural context.
I think that’s why I mention my borther who lives in Korea – as Korean culture treats arts and artists very differently to how we regard Australian and Australian artists.
We must only ever regard work on it’s own terms – what it’s trying to say in it’s context.
And thanks for the link… very interesting.
First of all, let me address a few questions others have posted.
What is my interpretation of art? I feel that art is a freedom of expression in a creative context. (more on that later.)
Ownership of stories: I, like everyone, have stories in my life that I would not like aired to the public. However, if it is out of my hands, I would hope that my story would be told as accurately as possible using people who have had at least some similar experiences as myself. If not, why bother?
In my original post, I never questioned anyone’s right to say or do as they please, or anyone’s artistic freedom. I was merely expressing my opinion and questioning the motive of the director. It would seem that in the art world people are open to freedom of expression until it criticizes certain pieces of work. But let’s get back to the directors motivation.
How is the director using this story? Is the director trying to bring awareness to the plight of blind people or is he exploiting a minority to shock the audience? Certainly some of the reviews suggest the latter, with audience members walking out during the sex scene and performers spewing out such banal comments as “That’s the last blind date I’ll ever go on”. In fact, one review suggests that the piece wasn’t well thought out and needed a common thread to tie it all together. I would have thought that common thread would have been blindness, how did a well researched director drop the ball on that one?
Sure Imielski is allowed the freedom and ownership of whatever story he wishes , but are his critics not allowed the same privileges without being accused of stifling art? Or is freedom of speech only allowed in a artistic context?
Having said all that I’m quite sure Imielski had nothing but good intentions. But if one is to take ownership of another’s story, then one should accept responsibility and respect that story enough to give it the treatment it deserves, not just cobble something together then hide under art’s protective banner and hope for the best, which unfortunately seems to be a growing trend in the art world.
Thanks for your response Jandek,
I think Imileski’s intention is very clear and is expressed very coherently in his director’s note:
“The idea for this project started many years ago when I was working at a restaurant as a close-up magician. There I met a woman who told me her story of how she lost her sight at the age of 18. In 2006-2007 with the assistance of Vision Australia, I conducted a series of interviews with many vision impaired individuals which has inspired and informed a trilogy of works around the theme of blindness. The first show ‘Blind, as you see it’ has toured to several venues and festivals since 2007. ’How to lose sight’ follows similar visual and sonic language, like that of an opera; with musical themes, as well as visual themes interlinked across the trilogy as well as within itself.
Created on site within an intensive four week period, How to lose sight was developed with the performers. Starting with a five page conceptual script, I lead the performers in a series of imagination exercises to encourage them to access more subconscious thoughts which reveal ideas and images that I find interesting.
This piece was created within an actual house (as opposed to a traditional performance venue) not only to heighten intimacy of the characters and their stories, but also to compare real life language with a theatrical language and to examine what happens when the two languages merge. This idea stems from my core fascination with language and human behaviour, and the simple fact that everything we know and understand as “theatre” and “life,” is simply a construct. Constructs can be changed, both can help and inform each other and both should and do change one another.
Similarly, I want audiences to be changed by my shows.
Every time I make a new work, I do it not knowing if what I want to achieve is possible. For if it would be possible or if I knew it was possible, what would be the reason for doing it? It wouldn’t be an investigation. What I am playing with, in each room, is marriage of many different (clashing) ideas, different merges of styles of performances or different theoretical ideas. Some may be confusing, some more engaging than others, but they all are trying to find a different way of telling a story. All three rooms have completely different core languages, such as dance, naturalism and installation, but also share common visual language.
I love theatre because it examines everything that we are, how we tick, work, think, behave, but most importantly how we could be. Performance is the last remaining communal ritual in our society, and for that reason, it is one of the most precious things in our culture.”
And from what I can see (and yes I saw this show in performance 7 times with both sighted and vision impaired audience members) and the feedback was overwhelmingly inline with Imileski’s intention – to bring people together in a communal way – we spoke before and after each show… and inbetween each of the rooms…
And, in fact, I would say that this discussion online has extended his intention and wishes, as you adn I and others from around the country are discussion- in community around an idea.
Interesting that you mention an incident that happened on preview night with a member of the audience who suffers from alzhiemers. And sure – everyone is in their rights to like or not like a piece of art (or entertainment) – but to suggest that just because one person, walked out doesn’t make the process nor the product fundamentally flawed – just not necessarilly their cup of tea.
Additionally – as far as the banality of this work goes – the text which you refer to is full of kitsch and every blind cliche possible – that was a direct and considered and purposeful device for that room to challenge the everyday use of the idea of being blind or without sight. From my perspective it highlights how such cliches can make us feel uncomfortable when placed in more sensitive contexts – and again, by highlighting it and having an adverse or strong reaction to it, I think you have proved it’s purpose.
I also think it depends on the reviewers you give the most weight to – so I’d love to see which reviewer you hold in highest esteem – I hold all responses and reviews on an equal footing along with my own opinion – but it might help me understand your perspective if you reference for me who you are quoting. Because the threads i noticed on a very basic level were these: each room contained a blind character. Each character referenced, love and sex. Each had difficult emotional tragectories. Each character had struggles with things we as a sighted audience could see, that they could not – and then of course there are the visual motifs – tea cups and condoms.
And yes – I couldn’t agree more with you, Jandek. Critics are very much allowed freedom speech and I encourage that absolutely. But in my view, all speech (whether I agree with it or not) should be articulate and well-considered. And of course, for me, it really does depend on how well-versed and experienced the critic (or punter) is in reading this type of work – which has the possibility of being mis-read and mis-understood. And this work for many sits in an uncomfortable place between artforms – installation, live art, theatre, dance and puppetry and for some they can be causght up in being frustrated in the fact that this is not a community theatre project. Nor is it a verbatim piece – it uses techniques across genre and for many that can be confronting.
I would agree with you, if this was a piece of verbatim theatre. but it’s not. It’s a work that uses the stories of others as a departure point. And that is very different.
Jandek – did you actually attend this piece of theatre?
Hi Gus,
This is a fascinating question with no easy answers. It has come up directly through two contrasting Melbourne Festival works, which may shed some light.
Back to Back’s Ganesh vs The Third Reich is by far and away the most flensing and complex theatrical interrogation of it I’ve ever seen, and I frame my review in terms of the rights and responsibilities involved in telling other people’s stories.
http://cameronwoodhead.com/archives/ganesh-versus-the-third-reich-review/
On the other hand, a community theatre project at the same Festival, Site UnSeeen, was a show I felt exploited the stories of the vulnerable (in this case the homeless), and I ripped it a new arsehole.
http://cameronwoodhead.com/archives/site-unseen-review/
I haven’t seen How to Lose Sight, but given that performers with disability produce some of our best work for the stage (which I consider here http://cameronwoodhead.com/archives/on-theatre-and-disability/ ) I think the onus is on the artists to show why they’re not being used to tell their own stories.
In the recent prduction of Clybourne Park at the MTC, Laura Gordon, an actor who can hear, played a deaf character before interval and another who wasn’t deaf after interval. It was a fine performance, and given the dual nature of the role (built into the play), the casting was fair enough. I note, however, that one of the MTC’s first productions of 2012, Nina Raine’s Tribes, will feature a deaf performer playing a deaf character. And quite rightly. Sure, you could have a white Othello in the 21st century, but why would you, when you’d have to justify it in politico-aesthetic terms, knowing there are many non-Anglo actors out there capable of doing it as well or better?
just a quick comment on what you said here,
And yes – I couldn’t agree more with you, Jandek. Critics are very much allowed freedom speech and I encourage that absolutely. But in my view, all speech (whether I agree with it or not) should be articulate and well-considered. And of course, for me, it really does depend on how well-versed and experienced the critic (or punter) is in reading this type of work.
This is exactly what I am talking about. elitist attitude towards those who can and cannot critique a piece of work. When it comes to art it should not matter how well versed a punter is. Everyone should have freedom of speech and everyone’s opinion should be held equal, after all, art belongs to the masses. It is exactly that type of snobbery that turn people away. Freedom of speech indeed. After a little research I see that you and the director are very good friends and correct me if I am wrong but did I read somewhere that it is your eye on the “How to Lose Sight logo? I see now how well versed you are in his work. Thanks for your reply, one cannot deny your passion.
Thanks again Jandek,
As far as responding to a work – I absolutely believe that everyone is in their right to join in the conversation – and to clearly articulate their perspective, with a view of communicating, not shutting down alternative readings or points of view. And everyone has a right to an opinion – and criticism should be everyone’s interest.
But it’s not.
I don’t know why it isn’t, but it’s not. And so some punters, like yourself it seems, prefer to let a reviewer speak for them. And that is fine. I absolutely agree with your comment “Everyone should have freedom of speech and everyone’s opinion should be held equal, after all, art belongs to the masses.” And that is why I am very happy to include your comments and feedback about this work on this site. For more on who has the right to criticism you can check out one of my recent posts: https://classic.augustasupple.com/2011/11/who-reads-reviews-who-cares-why-bother/ and even a summary from the guardian that references this dicussion here: http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/theatreblog/2011/nov/11/noises-off-power-punters-theatre
I do think that although I do hold people’s opinions as equal – there are some opinions I prefer to listen to: usually those that are well-argued, well-versed in the type of work they are seeing and well-read across art platforms, and that does not mean that these people have opinions I agree with. But I do prize well considered responses. Perhaps this makes me a snob? Is it snobbery to want a quality conversation: that is a conversation which expects a back and forth as opposed to a one-sided rant? Perhaps it is but that is my personal preference and I am entitled to my opinion and perspective.
And I absolutely do not hide nor deny the fact that Imielski is my boyfriend. In fact, it’s quite common knowledge – with industry and punters alike. And yes, you must be a Facebook friend of mine (why are you using a pseudonym, Jandek?) if you know that is my eye used in the promotion of How to Lose Sight. What I have written is a rehearsal observation – not a review. It’s a response, a personal response to his process, not a public assessment of the worthiness of his work. I write/wrote about his work with the privilege of being inside the room – and being privy to a hidden process and methodology and theatre-making that most people don’t have access to. I write so more people can try to greet the work on it’s terms, more than with their own assumptions and prejudices. I am well versed on this show because I have seen it more times (in rehearsal and production) than any other punter or reviewer – and so I feel very confident in writing about it.
Interestingly many members of the vision impaired community attended the show – including the Disability Access Officer for Penrith City Council, who stayed with the performers for an hour and a half after the show with his carer and praised it’s fun and casual perspective on living without sight. He claimed that the sex scenes were very realistic and that it was very true that blind people talk about “love at first sight” too. He also offered to be interviewed for the next installment of the triptych.
Thanks for writing in Cameron –
As always, it’s a pleasure to read you.
I think what is essential in the case of How to Lose Sight, is that this is a project which is made by a theatre maker, not a community group – nor is it funded as a community arts organisation, nor is How to Lose Sight claiming to be a community project. There are many fundamental differences between a piece of theatre and a piece of community theatre.
Community theatre has at it’s centre a community which are the makers and authors of the work. How To Lose Sight is explicitly advertised as “created by Michal Imielski” (not “created by members of the vision impaired community”). To criticise the show for not using blind performers is like criticising Simon Stone for not casting members of Australia’s German community in Baal.
The show was INSPIRED by stories from the vision impaired community and makes no attempt nor claim to be a piece of verbatim theatre.
On a practical level I’m not sure if a blind performer would be an appropriate choice to be cast in this particular show as there are moments when one of the actor’s breaks out of being blind and experiences a sighted flashback.
I agree that diversity and representation of all people of various abilities, enthnicities, cultural and ethnic identities and beliefs, body shapes and language groups should be represented on our stages.
And I don’t for a second discount that. But this is a work which does not claim to be anything more than a sighted person’s exploration into the world of the blind and that is an important distinction.
My personal hope is that one day our theatre landscape will be so diverse that we will be able to assess and respond to a work on it’s artistic merit.
Wow, what a great debate on such a broad subject matter. As a director myself who has been involved in developing stories both from personal experience and not, I have to say at the end of the day it is about integrity and respect of the story you are portraying. It is not always possible to know the true motive on an artists portrayal for producing stories that they have not personally gone through, but I believe over time the truth always surfaces (and that doesn’t just apply to the arts). I think if someone decides to bravely embark on a journey with characters that are from your perspective of that subject matter is so subjective. From what I have read about ‘How To Lose Sight’ the director researched and researched and approached the subject of blindness with knowledge from actual blind parties then adapted it through his own reflection filter (which we all naturally have) The thing that can be problematic is when a director doesn’t listen to those who live in this world with whatever disability or victimisation or cultural up bringing. It all boils down to HEART. For example I wrote and directed a play on child sexual abuse a few years back, I have never been sexually abused but I have a strong passion for the protection of children. Does that mean I shouldn’t harness that passion by writing about the very thing that makes my blood boil, that angers me? It is a subject matter very sensitive and I was terrified of not sounding true on paper and on stage and offending anyone who had sadly faced this during their childhood. Just like Imielski I sat down with an organisation run by former victims who read through my script and voiced their opinions on what was realistic and true and what was just not. It was one of the most enlightening experiences on story ownership for me as I realised I was almost like a spokes person creatively if I followed through with the work. The highlight of that whole work was the response from the invited actual ex-victims. To them I gave them a voice and how rewarding is that! None of my actors (that I was aware) had been abused as children and to be honest I doubt many actors who have been abused (though there could be many) would want to stand in their own footsteps on something so dark. I mean, correct me if I am wrong is not the point of acting to be acting? To put yourself in the place of another and do your best to do that character justice no matter of personal experience? Should gay characters be played by gay people? (Though it at times has annoyed me how many straight people play gay people) but in saying that should gay people not be able to play straight people? That’s ridiculous, if someone auditions no matter what their circumstance if they are the best person for the job they are the best person for the job! Let’s not make it all PC with casting. And what I mean by this is (as Gus said) you can’t please everyone. I have walked out in shows before mainly ’cause I felt the integrity of what was being portrayed was tainted and mis directed. But that is my opinion. Again it boils down to the HEART of the director and who knows what is in there?? It’s a mine field! Jandek you are 100% entitled to your opinion and you have started a very healthy debate on story ownership which I would hope any director would handle with care just like a mother would a new born baby. I was enjoying reading everyones responses but I have to say (not that Augusta needs defending she is perfectly able) but I feel Jandek you begun to get off track and start to personally attack, which is un called for. I know Gus, yes, but only on a professional level and what I do know about her is this. She wouldn’t compromise her professional opinion about an artists work just because she is great friends with someone. I know that much about her. So keep it on track about the work, the work is what matters, the work/art is what speaks louder. Question, question, question it is the only way to gain any understanding. We are all more similar than we think. If the audience walks out feeling the story is theirs, if it makes them feel and think and react. Good or bad, it has stirred something for them to digest. I have seen things that have moved me to tears and moved me deeply, and angered me, stories which have made me question my response to the subject matter, awesome! But I have also seen ‘stuff’ that has made me feel empty and void. Work that had skin but no soul and no heart. But again, that was just my response and my opinion. But again there are alot of ‘artists’ in it for the wrong reasons and that plainly just sucks!
“My personal hope is that one day our theatre landscape will be so diverse that we will be able to assess and respond to a work on it’s artistic merit.”
Gus, this sentence makes it sound like ‘artistic merit’ is something that’s being suppressed here because of current political and social considerations, which when they disappear, will suddenly allow us to see and assess the art in its pure form. But ‘artistic merit’ isn’t divorced from political and social considerations, and can never be: neither in the reception of a work, nor in its creation. Context is always going to be there.
“But this is a work which does not claim to be anything more than a sighted person’s exploration into the world of the blind and that is an important distinction.”
Actually no, it isn’t. You go to great lengths to distinguish this piece from Community Theatre, but in fact, this was the exactly same defence offered by some for Site UnSeen. It isn’t valid in and of itself – not because Community Theatre and How To Lose Sight are different creatures entirely – but because you can use the same formula and apply it to just about anything. (“Welcome to my white man’s exploration of black womanhood!” I’d review a show like that, but if the art didn’t address the centuries of prejudice and oppression suffered by black women, prepare to get half a star.)
I haven’t seen How to Lose Sight but it sounds like a very risky idea. That doesn’t mean it’s bad art. The kinds of questions I’d be asking of it are all contextual: Does it acknowledge and dramatise the impossibility of its premise within the art itself? How are the social barriers to the blind represented in the show? and did I, as a member of the audience, come away with insight into them? Or is the work (as it exists in performance) essentially using the blind as window-dressing, for shock-value? etc, etc. All the stuff you’ve discussed above.
Hi Cameron,
Thanks again for your thoughts.
It’s true – context is everything. And I am not suggesting a divorce or segregation between artistic merit and social context at all. I am saying, if the landscape (context) changed and was more diverse – then a bunch of sighted people creating a show about the fear of blindness or losing sight, would not be expected to be anything other than it is – ie it would not carry the expectation of being a show for vision impaired actors to tell their story about becoming blind.
I wish for the context to change.
But I don’t think artists should be limited to what they know – nor should writers be limited to what they want to write.
I think documentary and fiction are different. And they have different expectations and processes. I am suggesting that Jandek is expecting this to be a documentary when it is a fiction inspired by truth (isn’t all fiction inspired by truth?).
It’s true, Cameron that the “formula” can “apply it to just about anything. (”Welcome to my white man’s exploration of black womanhood!”” as you suggest – and well, it has been. Forever. Men have been writing female characters and imagining things women have said, and put sentences in the mouths of female actors forever – and there wasn’t a consultation process for Shakespeare when he was writing Ophelia, or Viola or Rosalind… why is it taboo for a director or an actor to imagine what it would be like to be blind? Why is it permissable for them to imagine what it is like to rape, or murder, or suicide, or cheat on their partner, or imagine they are a sailor? Or 24 years old? Or a mother of three? Or how about pretending they are English or American- we get plenty of that on our stages, don’t we?
Furthermore, I don’t think How To Lose Sight failed to address any contextual issues facing blind people – in fact the strong reaction by Jandek – a sighted audience member reacting to visual provocations, proves the point. Interestingly, Jandek is fighting a battle on behalf of the vision impaired community, without being asked to, and I doubt had consulted the members of the visually impaired community who attended the show in order to find out if they were upset or offended by the content. And to me I think that says a lot more about how we as sighted people treat the vision impaired and does nothing but re-enforce the message of the show.
I also think that the contextual questions of the show are essential – and for those that are curious to my reading of this:
The show challenges the audience through their experience of being deprived or limited in their access – at times being trapped physically in a room or tangled in a net. At times in a room, the audience can hear what’s going on – but can’t see what’s going on. And this is the sighted person’s blind experience. Sometimes during a scene in one room – we can hear (but not see) the events in the other room.
Largely the show represents the blind as normal people – who feel, imagine, dream, love, lust, wash up, make fools of themselves, make mistakes. And really the show is about dissolving the over-protective, earnest, overly PC hush hush taboo of disability.
What is essentially shocking about the show is how casual the subject matter is presented – this isn’t a horror/gore fest. This isn’t a series of interviews written and recited. This is work is a response to stories from people who live without sight – not a literal theatrical documentary of their lives.
And I think that’s where the reading of the piece by the audience needs to be informed…
I’m loving this discussion, and the relatively civil tone from all quarters given the prickly subject matter.
For me, the freedom of expression question is vital but has to be considered in a larger context than that of the artist (or group of artists) being allowed personal creative freedom. The flip side is perhaps institutional – are non- or partially-sighted people in Australia given the same freedom to act in theatre, to secure desirable jobs, to be part of conversations and find engaging representations of their experience? It’s a similar question regarding arts access for people who are non-white, differently abled, queer. Does everyone have the same opportunity to freely express themselves? Of course not. Structurally, there are inequalities of power in the arts just as there are in many social spheres.
So when a work addresses one of these axioms of inequality, of course it’s likely to get at least someone (Jandek) thinking about these issues beyond the specific content of the piece. It should be applauded for that because, hey, it’s provoked this lively and intriguing debate.
At the same time, I don’t know that holding a single production to account for a far more endemic problem will get anyone very far. From the sounds of it, How to Lose Sight is coming from the right place and is by no means a trivialisation of blindness for the sake of ‘shock’ (and of course in its own way, shock can be useful too). Must everyone work of art solve every dilemma of representation an audience member might face? Nah. But to try, to even take a few baby steps, is encouraging.
That bigger picture is more interesting to me. As Cameron mentions above, when a company such as the MTC addresses the same issues it becomes quite urgent – perhaps the ripples are bigger or something. Independent companies often benignly reflect the inequalities of their bigger siblings, not by aspiring to become them (or stage the same kinds of work) but because they emerge into a world where imagining otherwise can be difficult. Do fewer people with disabilities feel empowered enough to take on life as an actor, or are they silenced by the lack of opportunity they see? And therefore, when casting a play about (say) blindness, do fewer outstanding blind actors present themselves for casting? If so, no individual is responsible here, and the problem becomes structural.
Which is a far, far thornier thing. But from my perspective, I do think that these structural issues are already being assaulted by some of the most interesting artists in the country right now, and huge shifts have been occurring in recent years. Maybe that’s why this discussion has been so informed and aware on the part of all involved. More please!
Obviously, political correctness can wither the imagination and be unhelpful to those on whose behalf it is deployed. Equally obviously, artists can make pretentious crap with money that, as Jandek puts it, would be better spent on guide dogs.
Interestingly, one of my favourite productions of the year was Angus Cerini’s Save for Crying, which featured two intellectually disabled characters played by non-disabled actors. You can read why I loved it here:
http://cameronwoodhead.com/archives/review-mrs-vincent-price-save-for-crying/
So I’m not being in any way narrowly prescriptive. And I agree with all of what John says above. Creative freedom is crucial, but imagination has responsibilities that come with its freedoms.
Great discussion. Belatedly, I just wanted to add a side note: there seems an assumption here that Community Theatre is by its nature a poor, amateurish thing, at odds with “artistic” principles. It’s a common enough assumption, and god knows there are reasons for it; but community theatre has a noble history and has been deeply influential as an idea on 20C theatre. It is properly theatre in which makers dynamically engage with a community, emerging from that community’s concerns, and those principles have produced some significant work (including Back to Back). Notable companies include Joan Littlewood’s Theatre Workshop and Augusto Boal’s Theatre of the Oppressed. More recently, some works by Theatre de Soleil… it’s standard in France, in fact, where a condition of funding used to be, until the recent cuts, that a significant slice of their work had to be out in the community, dealing with people who didn’t necessarily come to the theatre: immigrants, the economically disadvantaged, children, prisoners, etc.
Hi Alison,
Absolutely agree with you, having worked on several community theatre projects in Canada which are of large scale, with substantial budget and rigorous artistic principals. This is not theatre which is less than just because it has a community focus or particpants from the non-commerical end of town.
What I would say that this dichotomy is false – and i have witnessed it first hand working with Everybody’s Theatre Company (CANADA) and Claque theatre(UK) and Spark of Brilliance (CANADA) in Canada.
But I think what is being mis-identified is Imielski’s work as community theatre – and this may be because of the Grotowskian “Poor Theatre” aesthetic and the interviews with blind people as his departure point.
The term “community theatre” should not be mistaken for “amateur theatre” nor a euphemism for “artistically deficient” theatre. Just as Poor Theatre should not be mistaken for “impoverished theatre.”
I think it is important for Jandek to recognise that the methodology and the tradition and the way of making a piece of community theatre is VERY different to that of someone who is making theatre inspired by an idea that comes from a specific community.
They are different.
And deserve to be regarded, as Sarah suggests in her response, in the spirit in which it is offered – which is as a piece of theatre, not a piece of community theatre.
Hey Cameron,
Thanks again for your thoughts – great to read how much you have to offer on the subject.
I must say that there are many things in the world that exist and are funded by the government that perhaps would be funds better spent on guide-dogs – I just don’t think that this is one of those pieces.
I saw this play, as a person with sight, and came away feeling understanding a blind person more. Not nessicary the fact of how blind people function day to day, which you can see the actors do with alot of ease, but that blind people are the same fundementally and animalistically as people with sight. That people with or without sight want to be loved, the want to love, to lust and be lusted over, to feel safe and enjoy the world even if they cannot see it with there physical eyes. What I found with this play is that it was about human connection. It for me was about love and everyones right to feel.
I don’t beleive this piece of theatre was in anyway disrespectful or out for shock value. There we bits that people may not have liked. You could feel the tension in the room as Chantelle started to undo the actor pants, but only because those who had sight could see it. I was there on a night where one of the actors took a blind lady around the house before the show started. The lady felt the set and was able to feel physically where everything was before the performance so she could feel safe and to experience the show better. There where things that I did not understand that maybe a person without sight may have, or maybe we both wouldn’t and only the actor or director knew. If you were in the room with the dancer who was waiting to go on a date, You would find that something everyone had to do was to trust. we had to trust that the dancer would kick us in the head (with her physical movement) the actors really need to trust the audience and the other actors to keep them safe and the blind people needed to trust that the production was not going to put them in harms way or be disrespectful to there disability.
i sorry I ment we had to trust the dancer would not kick us in the head, not would kick us in the head.