First we take Manhattan then we take Berlin
04/19/2009
They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom
For trying to change the system from within
I’m coming now, I’m coming to reward them
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin Read the rest of this entry »
“Theater is a thousand-year-old-perversity that mankind enjoys madly. Therfore do they enjoy it madly: because they madly enjoy their own hypocrisy.”¹
Last night I saw a funny and bitter play acted out in a tiny underground theater in Bucharest. The 60 sqm basement is probably the safest part of the crumbling house above it. The leading actor played what could well be his self-portrait as if it were the first time, as if it were the 1000th time, as if he were giving lessons on acting (which he mostly is, for half of the play). What tickled me most was his laying out the same scene five (it might have been six) times one different one after the other.
Der Theatermacher (ro. Creatorul de Teatru) is a a sharp piece of the Dutch-born writer Thomas Bernhard. A critique on a post-war, post-revolutionary slain society and its actors that have come to a mellow acceptance of their little misery. In a postmodern fashion it takes one in and out of the aura of theatre. The most acute irony though is the fact that the actual situation (the undergound venue, the stage, the handful of spectators) and the play are similar to a point that they mirror one another. The grave monologue of an actor delusioned by the state of his art is carried out in a forgotten corner by an actor who has abandoned the formal theatrical system and plays in his own underground venue in front of a tiny audience.
¹Creatorul de Teatru. by Thomas Bernhard. direction Alexandru Dabija. cast Marcel Iures, Valeria Seciu, Constantin Draganescu, Afrodita Androne, Vitalie Bantas. Teatrul ACT
to skeptics, with admiration and question marks
I recently learned of an ancient Greek philosopher who questioned most certainties of others. Bernhard called Heidegger “carpet-slipper and night-cap philosopher” and took ridiculing very seriously. I think somehow they would have gotten along swell. When the latter was not busy being critical of music, theatre, and ancient master-painters (sic!), he was busy caricaturing. I give you one of my favourite very short stories.
Pisa and Venice |
| The mayors of Pisa and Venice had agreed to scandalize visitors to their cities, who had for centuries been equally charmed by Venice and Pisa, by secretly and overnight having the tower of Pisa moved to Venice and the campanile of Venice moved to Pisa and set up there. They could not, however, keep their plan a secret, and on the very night on which they were going to have the tower of Pisa moved to Venice and the campanile of Venice moved to Pisa they were committed to the lunatic asylum, the mayor of Pisa in the nature of things to the lunatic asylum in Venice and the mayor of Venice to the lunatic asylum in Pisa. The Italian authorities were able handle the affair in complete confidentiality. |
skin
04/12/2009
How can you get under some body’s skin? How can you shed your skin and become someone new? Lately I have come across various approaches on the subject of Skin. Several of them entice me.
In the design class lead at the AAM last week, Riccardo Blumer talked about the skin as limit-boundary. The skin is what we see of a human – their limit, that by which we can tell they exist.
If one thinks about the movie starring Kevin Bacon, “the Hollow man”, the character become invisible, can only be noticed when he wraps himself in an artificial synthetic skin – creating for his inside a new boundary. what I find interesting in this weird story is that once the skin is made invisible we do not see what we expect to lie underneath the skin – organs, muscles, blood vessel- but the whole inside disappears. It stops existing. When there is no boundary from the surroundings there is no more Inside and no Outside, but just one indefinable, imperceptible fudge.
Like a city without walls, or a piece of land without a property line, we cannot exist without our skin that delimits ourselves from what surrounds us.
But then, if the skin allows us to exist, does it define us as well? It is said beauty is not skin-deep. But more so we, as individuals, are not skin deep. As a city or a country is not defined by its limit we are not our skin. Still our wrapping is our physical expression.
So how can we make known our interior? The challenge of communication, of human interaction, is to manage to trespass our skin and reveal what lies beneath it, ourselves.
