Who Determines the Shelf Life of "Modern" Art?

I saw a very cool play last night at the Bricolage summer reading series: Neighborhood 3: Requisition of Doom, by Jennifer Haley. It's an ultra-modern parable about communication, expectation and the nature of reality, cloaked in the guise of a horror film spoof.

The story centers around a fictional MMORPG (the titular "Neighborhood 3"), in which disaffected teens lose themselves -- literally -- for days on end. The game is a complex quest to eradicate the zombies who threaten to overrun a picture-perfect suburb -- which, the players notice, is a mirror image of their own suburban housing plan...

I'll let you draw your own conclusions about the play's themes and politics (or you can read this review of a prior performance in Louisville, which unfortunately seems to have missed out on so much of the play's dark humor). As I consider my own feelings about the play -- which I very much liked but am still processing -- a few thoughts enter my mind, such as:

* How well will hypermodern works of art age in an era of ever-increasing nostalgia, when the millennium bug already seems like it happened a generation ago?

* Can a work of art be judged a success or failure by a critic whose frame of reference doesn't encompass the ability to appreciate / process / understand the work of art?

* What's the cutoff age for understanding irony? (In my experience, irony seems to have a self-contained 30 year "generation," give or take, which suggests that the basis of humor / irony 'shifts' every quarter century or so.)

* What are the artistic reasons to create something "in the now," vs. something of an indeterminate time? How does that choice affect the audience's experience today, or in 100 years?

* How do you assign merit for a collaborative work in which the author or creator is separated from the audience by a wall of actors, interpreters or players? In these cases, who determines where the success or failure of the idea's execution lies?

* What is an artist's proper recourse when an audience or a critic misses the point?

* Which of our current cultural touchstones will still be memorable -- or even recognizable -- in 20 or 50 years?

Thoughts?

The Culture Gap

Last week, I saw a play that was written by an African-American playwright. It dealt with issues of gender, race and identity. It tackled sensitive subjects like sexual abuse and racism. And it was framed around an iconic myth of nature, hope and redemption.

And I hated it.

Not because the play was heavy-handed, unsurprising or obvious (which it was), but because it was being lauded despite these shortcomings. Lauded, I felt, *because* it was a play about a different cultural experience than what the theatregoers in Pittsburgh are used to. In this particular case, I felt quality (or its absence) was being ignored in favor of political correctness -- of the NEED to champion a work of art that presented a less-omnipresent POV than that of the Straight White Male that governs so much of American society.

My continued evaluation of that play, and of my experience with it, have prompted numerous questions over the past week, including:

* Am I unable to connect with art created by artists from different cultural backgrounds because we lack the same shared experiences?

* Does our cultural background directly impact our ability to emotionally or intellectually evaluate art?

* Is mediocre art from underexposed cultures given a "pass" by the cultural gatekeepers simply because they feel obligated to promote any voice from within those cultures that are willing to step forward?

* Does allowing mediocre art to flourish do a disservice to the potential artists from within a specific culture by lowering the bar of expectations?

* Is it fair to compare art from various cultural backgrounds? Is it racist NOT to?

* How profoundly does a difference in gender impact one's ability to understand another?

* What larger cultural or social implications arise when art created for "shock value" ceases to provoke a "shocked" experience in its audience? Does that mean we've diverged too far from a "norm" of behavior, or does it mean we've simply assimilated that previously "extreme" behavior into our larger frame of reference and nullified its impact?

I don't have answers to any of these questions, but I'd be interested in hearing your thoughts.

What Good Is Criticism?

I have a larger point to make, but first, a specific window into the situation:

This is the closing weekend for In Service, a powerful multimedia production that presents the stories of actual Pittsburgh soldiers who've returned from service in Iraq. The show is purposely absent of any slanted political context because it's meant to provide a rare glimpse of the soldiers themselves, not the ideologies behind the war they've fought (and continue to fight).

Ted Hoover, the stage critic for Pittsburgh's City Paper, issued a lukewarm review of the piece. Instead of basing his judgment on what the piece was, he bemoaned what it wasn't -- specifically taking the creators to task for NOT speaking out against the war itself.

To raise that complaint misses the point of the piece entirely, but it also betrays a complicated paradox in the world of art criticism (and critical thinking in general):

What IS the Role of the Critic?

Before you think this question doesn't apply to you, consider this: when was the last time you recommended an album/ movie / TV show / book to someone else?

Did you recommend it because you thought it was legitimately good and worth their time, or because the creation in question was closely aligned with what YOU, personally, enjoy?

Now consider the last time you told someone a book / movie / TV show / song was horrible.

WHY was it horrible?

Was it because the execution was terrible? Because the artist was a fraud? Because the communication was unclear, or the artistic choices were false?

Or, did you simply not like it? (Or, worse, did you not understand it, and therefore you presumed no one else would either?)

The Thin Line Between Criticism and Control

Critics are cynical enough to realize they can't support something their readers won't like. Stray too far from your audience's tastes and they'll forsake you. Thus, to remain relevant, a critic must review all art AS THOUGH HE ALREADY KNOWS WHAT HIS AUDIENCE WILL ACCEPT.

For example, in the case of Pittsburgh theatre, the target audience tends to be adults over the age of 50. Therefore, any play that doesn't speak directly to that demographic is likely to be panned, or commended with caution.

As you can imagine, this creates a stifling atmosphere for artists attempting to create new work, because they have two uphill battles to fight: the one to get an audience to take them seriously, and the one to convince the powers-that-be (who shape the choices of the populace) to convince the masses to take them seriously.

Personal Anecdote Time

Before I ventured into social media, I spent 2+ years as a music critic for the nearly-major music website Splendid (now defunct), out of Chicago. In that time, I reviewed hundreds of CDs, averaging a minimum of 3 per week.

Considering this was an unpaid, "free time" gig, it was in my best interests to plow through the CDs as quickly as possible. Most reviews were written after one or two listens, with only the ones that caught my attention garnering additional quality time.

I know from artist feedback that my reviews validated the burgeoning musical careers of several underground indie artists, who drew strength from my support of their work. I also know (from scathingly-worded emails) that my negative reviews cut the musicians deeply. If I helped keep some artists active, I don't think it's unreasonable to presume I may have also driven others out of their musical dreams altogether.

Looking back, it's ironic that a review written in haste might have caused a potentially talented musician -- who happened to not yet be "up to par" with others of his / her ilk -- to throw in the towel prematurely.

And yet, that's the power (fair or not) that every critic has with each word he commits to paper and page.

So, the Real Question Is...

... should a critic support the work of an artist who has the potential to become great, even if that work isn't yet fully commendable, because the risk of smiting that dream too early might mean the absence of new work that could someday change the world?

Or, should a critic be exceedingly harsh and unrelenting, fostering an environment where only the strongest survive?

Is a critic's primary function to be a guide for the audience or the artist?

How each critic answers those questions determines the role he seeks to fill: cheerleader or executioner?

Then again, EVERYONE'S a critic -- so what do YOU think?

Pittsburghers: Three Cool Art Events!

For everyone who laments that Pittsburgh is a city with no artistic culture, I offer you three (3!) reasons that your statement is a filthy lie. Ready?

(By the way: I make no commission off these recommendations; I just like to see the arts in Pittsburgh succeed.)

UnBlurred

Did you know that Lawrenceville comes alive every First Friday with new art shows in every gallery, live music, free food and drink, and an all-night party?

Don't worry - few people do.

Tonight is the first Friday in October, which means UnBlurred kicks off after work. Go check it out -- unless you'd rather see one of the following shows (which are both incredible).

Key to the Field (Final Weekend)

I wrote previously about what an amazingly cool play Key to the Field is. This reality-skewing tale about family, suburbia and a dicey episode involving a garbage disposal is its last weekend, and if you have 90 minutes and $15, I strongly, strongly suggest you go see it. The play has received great reviews, but that still hasn't helped it draw the kind of audience we'd like to see for energetic, envelope-pushing new work in Pittsburgh.

Or, put another way: wouldn't you like to be able to say you saw the world premiere of a potentially major new work, in Pittsburgh, before it goes on to become a national classic that you pay $50 to see when it returns to town in 30 years?

For information and tickets, click here.

In Service

Bear with me for a second, because the initial explanation doesn't do this experience justice:

Pittsburgh Filmmakers and the Bricolage Theatre group co-present this vital multimedia piece that gives voice to the veterans of the Iraq war.

Why does this matter? Why is this different than your daily news coverage of the war(or, if you're cynical, the lack thereof)? Because In Service presents documentary AND live testimonials from local veterans who've returned from Iraq. Instead of hearing the story the corporate-controlled mainstream media sell us, you have a rare opportunity to see life from the soldiers' point of view.

I saw the show's opening last night, and it was compelling. The servicemen and women featured are diverse, representing no specific political ideology. Some are obviously anti-war, and some wouldn't hesitate to return to Iraq if called. Some have experienced horrific effects of life in the theater of war, and some will never be the same.

But, as the show makes very clear, all of them deserve our support, as Americans, because -- regardless of their own ideals -- they went to Iraq to serve our country. The least we can do is hear their side of the story.

For more information and tickets, click here.

Finally: A New Pittsburgh Play Worth Supporting!

Since my girlfriend is a theatre person, I see a lot more stage plays than I might otherwise. That's difficult, because Pittsburgh's theatre scene is regularly horrible.

Specifically, Pittsburgh fails to support new, envelope-pushing work. That's because 90% of its theatre-going audience are senior citizens, who prefer reimagined classics over anything that generates actual discussion or controversy. Thus, there's no audience for new works, so no one performs them, and therefore most under-40s in Pittsburgh believe that theatre is a medium that can't possibly speak to them.

Here's a play that will hopefully break that mold: David Turkel's "Key to the Field," being produced and performed by the Bricolage theatre group at 937 Liberty Ave. (Tickets $15 here -- don't worry, I make no commission.)

I saw it last night. It was wonderful, gripping, compelling and satisfying -- easily the best play I've seen in Pittsburgh in the past 2 years. Hopefully you'll agree.

I won't attempt to explain what the play is "about," because that's kind of the point -- this is a piece of art from which everyone will be able to draw their own conclusions. Double-casting, a non-linear narrative and a heavy dose of surreality create a story that's part modern allegory and part road trip nightmare. However, it's not so open-ended as to be aggravating for the more traditional theatregoers who require logic and closure.

Interesting side note: I originally saw "Key" during last year's Bricolage summer reading series, an annual (FREE) event in which 6 plays are read for an audience, one per month, to generate feedback for the authors. At the end of the reading series, the audience is asked to vote for the play they most enjoyed. The winner is staged by Bricolage the following year.

"Key" was last year's winner. It's almost entirely the same in most respects as it was during the reading, with a few structural changes that have tightened the plot and made the underlying themes more prevalent. IMHO, this is a great example of what can happen when a talented writer receives valuable feedback and applies his own common sense to the existing flaws in his story. With "Key to the Field," Turkel has produced a play he -- and Pittsburgh - can be proud of.

So, do yourself (and the city) a favor: go see "Key to the Field." Bricolage deserves our support, so they can be encouraged to continue creating new, relevant and engaging theatre. (And, if it works for them, maybe someone else will do it, too...)