Thursday, May 17, 2012

slowly going crazy.

Have we lost the ability to critically examine a piece of art? Is it too much to ask the audience to do some work? To create a play that's meaning is incomprehensible upon the first watch? I realise this may be seen as trying to siphon money from patrons, architecting a built-in re-watch factor. I realise a play is meant to be seen. Yes. It is. But the greatest works of art are also destined to be studied. 

I wrote these lines about a few months ago. At the time, I was fed-up with people reading things on a purely face-value and not taking the time to look past the action, sex and special effects in a work of art (specifically my own). I was disillusioned with the pathways of theatre; from page-to-stage seemed the longest journey. The number of people I felt like I had to impress just to get to the next phase was disheartening. Every time you add another person into the mix, it seemed, you would lose that much more control as the creator; it was a slightly xenophobic thought, one that believed everyone I had to impress who came into contact with a new script would undoubtedly take it upon themselves to demand changes, eventually forcing me to abandon the work of art that I, individually, wrote (take the phrase "work of art" lightly). After all, this is the age of the term "creator controlled." While I still haven't passed into that second phase, I have recently been able to experience it from a different aspect, one I believe I've mentioned here before: as a director. Being a director for the premiere staging of a play has forced me to think a bit differently. I haven't lost all of my angst (as my writer-self has been dormant for what seems like altogether too long) but I am able, I think, to objectively examine this question.

 An artist gets all giddy when they throw that tiny, seemingly insignificant object / moment / line / symbol into a work of art that, upon first glance, will render mostly unremarkable to the audience. That thing that, upon second viewing beckons a double-take; was that in there all this time? How did I miss it? Those little moments, those tiny, slightly opaque secrets are an artist's admission that, yes, they have thought of everything (we hope). I'm unsure if this attention to detail is positive or not. On one hand, it is conceited / obsessive compulsive / self-destructive, and, ultimately, it adds a layer to the work that just so happens to make it slightly more inaccessible to the average reader / watcher / listener. On the other hand, it shows you just how much thought the artist has put into this piece and the love they've developed to flesh it out and complete it in only the way the artist can / feels they must. Something we can all agree on, however, is that this attention to detail itself is not enough to make a piece of art good. And herein lies my initial problem. In order to have a piece of art critically examined, it has to generate the interest of the people who will do the examining. And, surprisingly enough, these people are not in limited quantity. I believe every person wants something to obsess over; it is human nature after all. It is why we have come so far as a species.

So how do we get these people interested? Well. It must become accessible. Not accessible in that it becomes fluff, shallow summer blockbuster material, but accessible in that it guides the audience's experience from beginning to end (even if the audience is told to guide their own experience). This has to be done. To answer my question above, yes, a piece of theatre can be incomprehensible upon first viewing, but the audience's experience of it must be defined so they feel like they've done something productive. There does need to be an outcome for the audience, even if it's to pique their interest to figure out more.

Picture going to an art gallery and hiring a tour guide. If the guide has no plan, no connection between the pieces they show you or the things they tell you, you are probably going to be frustrated and think the gallery is an incomprehensible mess; nothing more than a place for highbrow intellectuals. You probably won't pay to go back there, much less pay to go on another tour. But if the guide does what they are hired for and guides your experience, hopefully at the end, even if you don't walk away loving expressionism, you should at least walk away with having understood the reason for it. And, even better, you may walk away with having thought of something you had never thought before. 

Comprehension comes in many different forms and on many different levels. It is up to you, as the artist, to choose which ones you want to show the audience, and which ones you want to hide from them. But you can't hide them all.

Unless you want the audience to hide from you.