Photog: Understanding the Discourse of Media

How the media perpetuates a distance between news and our lives

         In a highly digital society where information can be sent and received instantaneously it is amazing how much of the population is unaware of the worldwide events that are not happening in their immediate area.  Since televisions invaded our homes in the twentieth century, visual representations of the news have become more prominent in society.  Through the discourse of media, society finds themselves subject to censorship and a sense of passivity when dealing with the stories and images they are confronted with.

         Upon stepping into the fictitious realm of photojournalist Thomas Smith, audiences of Photog entered an area of the media where the general public is not often welcome. Created by Vancouver’s Boca del Lupo theatre company, Photog made it’s world premiere at Toronto’s Harbourfront Centre World Stage between November 17-20. The play used real life stories and corresponding photographs belonging to four working photojournalists and in doing so, commented on the role that the public plays in the discourse of media.  Through the use of explicit images and stories, along with the intermedial use of technology, Photog challenges accepted discourses of Western media.

         Photog questions the discourse of media by removing the filter that is usually placed between the content and the audience.  This filter allows those confronted with the material to absorb a version less intense than the actual event. For Thomas, his filter is his camera.  The character often remarks how with his camera at his eye he is able to see the events around him as photo opportunities.  Even when running to give a wounded man aid, he takes the opportunity to shoot the event.  This filter allows him to remove himself from his surroundings for the sake of the media. 

         Similarly, Thomas also recounts a scenario when his outstretched hand made its way into the frame of his image, and how he suddenly felt more present in the location.  He realizes at that point the danger he is in and for the first time he can remember, he stops taking pictures.  For the character, he sees himself as having a duty to send back these images to the western world, but when he can see himself in the frame, his understanding of the situation is shaken.  His role is both undermined and supported by the discourse of the media.  In one respect the media claims to be searching for truth in all of its pursuits, while conversely, it filters its material for sensational and political reasons (among others). 

         Thomas also discusses the filtering of news content in the play.  In order to best affect the audience, he directs his comments about ignorance towards the acts that are happening in war-torn areas across the world, while westerners go about their daily lives.  In a scene dimly lit with that was clearly a set in the night, Thomas takes images of the audience as he recounts his story.  His pictures appear on the large and omnipresent screen that hangs behind him.  Suddenly, like the people of Liberia or Kabul, we are the subjects of his work.  Snapshots of the audience begin to layer amongst images of human terror in other areas of the world, and the message of presence and accountability begins to ring clearer amongst those in attendance.  Through this beautifully executed intermedial connection, audiences can understand how much their lives are related to those in troubled areas, but that we choose not to acknowledge it. 

         Later in the production a set of image slides are found in the apartment and are used to illustrate a story from the front line.  Thomas recounts how hard it is for him to come home, that people don’t understand what he has been through and are unwilling to change their distanced ways to better inform themselves.  He comments on this distance, and amongst the images of Darfur and the Ivory Coast audiences see shots of the theatre they are sitting in, the lobby that they entered, and the neighborhood they passed through.  These peaceful images juxtaposed with the chaotic and sad photos from his travels once again challenges the media’s removed approach of transmitting stories and tie audiences into the chaos that happens hundreds of miles away.  While the house of the theatre is black, audiences often believe they are safe from interaction and scrutiny, however, through this bold move the audience gains a greater involvement and understanding of their role in the media.

         Within the discourse of the media, there is a boundary of what can and cannot be discussed through these public outlets.  Traditionally the media represents scenarios and facts in order to better inform their audiences which are portrayed according to the political and social views of the area.  Unfortunately, the passivity of society means that these news stories are often easily forgotten over the course of our everyday lives.  By engaging passive audiences through traditional forms of media, Photog forces a different understanding of how media affects our lives, and sparks interest for a change in the accepted discourse of media in our society.

         Photog challenged the discourse of media in a number of ways.  By using Thomas’s camera to create a filter of his experiences, we see the parallels between ourselves and the way the media filters the content and our experiences of the news.  In using the camera to capture life snapshots of the audience and juxtaposing them into a news image that would usually be hard to relate to, the production asks audiences to connect with the material.  Lastly, comparing the calm and safe nature of our lives in comparison to those in the war torn areas of the world we are able to question our own passivity towards news stories and the media.  In challenging the discourse of the media, Photog created a different sense of understanding amongst audience members and encouraged a discussion and reevaluation of the discourse itself. 

Photog: an imaginary look at the uncompromising life of Thomas Smith had a short world premiere run at the Harbourfront Centre World Stage from November 17-20, 2010.  Directed by Sherry Yoon and written and performed by Jay Dodge, the Boca del Lupo created play had no further scheduled tours or performances at this time.

http://www.bocadellupo.com/

Oh hey: a month away!

So it has become pretty obvious: School has taken over my life!  

I thought I would share that my writing experiment (and requirement) for the term has been quite successful.  Not only did I get a lot of feedback and support from my professor in this Theatre Criticism class, I was named the winner of the 2010 William Chadwick Prize for Theatre Criticism.  Crazy!  So along with the title I was given what looks to be a phenomenal book, Social Acupuncture by Darren O'Donnell.  I hope to read it over the holidays and write a bit on here about his guide to art in the city.  

Below is the blog review that my professor particularly enjoyed.  The revised edition of the article will be published on the University of Waterloo Drama website, so I can say I'm a published theatre reviewer (apparently).  Please note that in order to reach a particular audience/community I took it upon myself to create a fake blog and author.  It's an interesting take on how another character would  express my thoughts on the play in her own context.  Or who knows, perhaps its my inner-relationship guru calling out. 

Revisiting the “Relations” in Relationships

A blogger’s attempt at understanding romance and relationships in the 21^st century through her everyday interactions and experiences. 

            It seems that ever since I began this blog about my quest to understand romantic relationships in modern society that real love (and it’s demise) has been popping up all around me.  Between overhearing couples fight on my subway ride into work or constantly receiving “Find your Soul mate” emails from E-Harmony I can’t seem to avoid the fact that romantic relationships dominate the subject matter of our lives.  I hear it from all angles, how complicated things get, how blissfully easy relationships are, how happy couples are together, and how much happier people are without their ex-lovers. 

            Sometimes love hurts, and after seeing The Confessions of Punch and Judy, a play by Number Eleven Theatre company, I was reminded about how crazy relationships can get, especially those portrayed in the theatre.  Loosely inspired by the classic Victorian puppet pair, Confessions explores the marriage of a modern Punch and Judy.  During the 19^th century the couple’s relationship was household knowledge for Victorian families having seen their turbulent and violent episodes performed on the streets regularly.  Punch’s violence and Judy’s nagging epitomized the “struggle for the breeches” that the people were experiencing as men fought to reassert their masculinity in relationships. 

            For modern Punch and Judy things are not solved by Punch murdering Judy for scolding him.  Life for the two of them in the 21^st century is a bit more complicated.  The play follows the couple over an evening of fighting and questioning their marriage.  This physical-theatre piece utilized the actors’, Tannis Kowalchuk (Judy) and Ker Wells (Punch), movement abilities as they morphed from the realistic characters to their arguing alter-egos in overtly physical fashions.  The actors’ physical stamina and poise are put to the test in this performance, but they both deliver exceptionally.  Through highly stylized masque work, mime and dance Punch and Judy express their deep anger and disappointment in their relationship.  Each break from reality searched deeper into the cause of their anger and intensified the tension between them.  What would normally be perceived as an ideal relationship by outsiders is slowly broken down, and their home becomes the battlefield.

            The play takes place in their home which was modestly represented by a pair of “his and hers” chairs and a table.  Punch and Judy are respectively represented by blue and red in both costume and their chairs.  These colours represent their method of dealing with relationship conflict, both hot and cold, while the colour yellow (shown as a table between their two arenas) acts as a pacifying and neutral zone.  Each time the characters broke away from reality the lighting abruptly changed to a brighter intensity, while creating cartoon-like shadows on the actors faces.  Paired with the primary coloured set, the light design brought the outrageous scenes to life and played up its comedic nature.  How gracefully the actors and their surroundings transformed into this cartoon parallel universe had me thinking about how easily real life relationships can spiral into a hateful combat zone. 

            Perhaps the most poignant scene showed Punch and Judy animatedly explaining their unhappiness to one another, whilst accusing each other of not listening.  What followed was a beautifully choreographed scene of the pair performing their partner’s movements while telling different dialogue each time.  It illustrated their ability to copy one another but to be unable or unwilling to truly understand each other’s plight.  Despite going through the motions of togetherness the couple perpetuates their demise as they stubbornly refuse to listen and work as a team.  This idea of not listening is carried on throughout the performance.

            In the hours after seeing Confessions, I began thinking about marital expectations and the “perfect couple”.  Outwardly Punch and Judy seem to be a happy modern couple who strive towards a blissful future while behind closed doors they resent one another.  They seem to think that this should come easy to them, and at the sign of trouble and the need to work to improve themselves they instantly choke up and become defensive.  Their communication immediately crumbles and progress is at a standstill.  The goal to be perfect seems to be responsible for the breakdown of their relationship.  I see this in people’s relationships all over the city and I can’t help but wonder why we as a society hold these ideals so high.  The original Punch and Judy were not a couple to be admired, their story acted as a moral tale to teach people how not to behave in a marriage.  This modern Punch and Judy do the same, but in more depth and debate over the role of individuals in a conventional relationship. 

            The love between Punch and Judy in The Confessions of Punch and Judy was obviously misunderstood.  Their communication seemed to only be physical when what they truly needed was to talk and to listen.  Perhaps we should take this away from the piece, that regardless of the relationship you find yourself in, listening and communicating are keys to success in the 21^st century matters of love.  If in the end the world’s most dysfunctional couple, Punch and Judy, can attempt it I can’t see why the rest of us can’t give it a try.

For a small clip of the show please visit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjV0gKwv1hQ

Yarn-Bombing - Coming to a Community Near You

A quick thought about the art in everyday life...

Photo by Ashley McDonald

At about this time last year I read a really interesting article in the Toronto Star.  It talked about this new artistic phenomena that was ambushing  cities across North America, and I was enthralled.  It was called: "Yarnbombing".  

Yarnbomb – verb. To gently fasten knitted and crocheted works to public surfaces as cozy, impermanent graffiti: The kindergarten teacher yarnbombed a pole in the park with a stocking stitch in shades of blue and green.

What a fantastic idea!  Just imagine it:  You're walking down the street on a chilly autumn afternoon, when you notice a bare pole, bar or other inanimate object with a cozy sweater knit onto it.  Suddenly, this otherwise normal and forgotten piece of the landscape is brought to life.  It makes you stop and reevaluate your surroundings, makes the less than memorable journey you intended on embarking on an exciting hunt for handmade treasure.

Photo by Ashley McDonald

Waterloo has been hit, and I couldn't be happier.  The city that I'm often harping on for not having any visual appeal suddenly has become a hotbed for knitted fashion, and not just on the citizens.  This array of knitted art has beautified the neighbourhood and has brought light to the art of textile creation.  

Since reading the newsarticle last fall I have become a bit of a knitter myself.  Nothing spectacular, but it's something that I find is a great stress outlet and is a challenge (not to mention it's really practical, I'm never going to have an excuse for a new scarf).  Being a beginner, I'm aware of how long it takes to knit a few rows.  Now imagine kitting a massive sweater for a telephone pole!  That is some serious dedication.  I love that a team of knitters are joining together to create a tactile art installation throughout the city, and I wish that I was among them.  Not only are you bonding with your fellow yarnbombers, you're touching the lives of so many people in your community through your strategically placed work.  

I thank the local yarnbomb team for opening up my eyes to the small wonders of daily life.  Would I have normally thought that a lamppost was an appealing partner for a hug?  Definitely not.  But with a cozy sweater there was no question I was going to stop and give it some love, and reflect on it's purpose.  I thought about the feeling of the yarn against my skin, the absurd nature of it's location, and how lucky I was to have streetlights at night in my community.  The safety I felt in that moment was amazing, and I thank you, mysterious knitters for a memorable moment in an everyday outdoor jaunt. 

Interested in joining the yarnbomb team?  So am I.  Check out their Facebook Info Page and maybe we can help on the next bombing-expedition! 

WeeTube: Owning Up To Your Online Persona

WeeTube

Starring James Long and Maiko Bae Yamamoto

By Theatre Replacement

Photo by Tim Matheson

            I’ve never been one to watch a lot of YouTube videos, so when I was given the opportunity to watch Theatre Replacement’s “WeeTube” I thought that I might not relate to a piece that so heavily relies on YouTube material.  Surprisingly, I was wrong. Vancouver-based Theatre Replacement initially produced “WeeTube” in 2008 but has been touring it worldwide ever since.  It isn’t being produced here in Ontario, so I was lucky enough to have viewed the performance on videotape. 

            The performances begin with the audience watching a short YouTube video on a projected screen.  The actors, James Long and Maiko Bae Yamamoto, explain that after the video has completed they will act out an ordinary scenario but their text will be the comments that were written on the video at the time of the performance.  With these remarks fed through iPods, the actors go about their activities casually commenting on what they had just seen.  It’s a clever idea that is successfully delivered with lightheartedness but also comments strongly on society.

            Presented in four different scenarios Yamamoto and Long reflect on the clips while going about normal activities including baking cookies, gathering around the microwave for popcorn after work, opening Christmas gifts or getting dressed to go out.  I must admit, the absurdity of their actions juxtaposed with the text they were saying was hilarious.  The straightforwardness of the concept along with the naturalistic acting styles of two relatively laid-back characters made the production seem effortless.    

            In vocalizing the written comments, “WeeTube” puts the poor grammar, lazy short form, small vocabulary and excessive swearing of online communication out in the open.  It’s hard to think of a time when I haven’t included “LOL” in a text or a chat conversation, but when it is said multiple times in a theatre production as “L-O-L” it becomes clear how horrible it sounds.  Has society really gotten this lazy that we can’t articulate intelligent thoughts online?  Our vocabulary seems to be shrinking, and online commenting and chatting illustrates how uneducated we sound. 

            After the final YouTube clip of two Pandas, the comments made a turn for the worst.  They  began as light and fluffy, full of LOL’s, but soon became hostile.  An argument began between the online personas over a small disagreement about miniscule details of the clip.  In presenting this as dialogue I believe that “WeeTube” asks audiences to question the power of their anonymity online.  Few people would be commenting in such a foul fashion if they had to say it face to face with someone.  Instead, the anonymity allows for a barrier-free forum where hurtful comments and language are thrown around.

            Theatre Replacement has created a unique and exciting production that is extremely relevant in today’s society.  Viewing it on video probably didn’t highlight the production elements of the performance, but the simplicity that I experienced was welcome.  Having less on stage meant that there was less competition for attention and the focus could easily be brought to the actors.  It is hard to believe that Long and Yamamoto are being fed the dialogue through their iPods and that aside from the physical movements their performances are not rehearsed.  This quasi-improvisation is a tough task that the two actors perform seamlessly.  

            If you’re interested in getting a small sense of what the “WeeTube” experience is about, I suggest you visit http://vimeo.com/12833610.  Theatre Replacement has posted a succinct promotional clip and it will likely leave you wanting more. 

            Having said that I’m not a big YouTube participant, did “WeeTube” change my outlook?  Perhaps.  I now realize how stupid people can sound online, and the importance of writing things that I would be proud to have said aloud.  It’s easy to coward behind the anonymity of an online persona.  Not only did “WeeTube” have me rethinking societal norms online and how it affects my life, the production was fun to experience.

            In keeping with the message of the play I will openly sign off this installment knowing that these thoughts are my own and that I’d repeat them to you any day, any time and not feel ashamed.  Now if only the rest of the online society could do the same.   

The Clockmaker - Tick-Tock, There's Too Much Talk

The Clockmaker
Written by Stephen Massicotte
Directed by Bob White

Starring Damien Atkins, Kevin Bundy, Clair Calnan & Christian Goutsis

At Tarragon Theatre

September 14 – October 24

In its Toronto debut, Tarragon Theatre has opened it’s 2010-2011 season with Stephen Massicotte’s The Clockmaker.  Director Bob White revisits the play after directing it previously at Alberta Theatre Projects, presenting the part romance, part mystery to new audiences in Toronto. 

The Clockmaker begins with its namesake, Heinrich Mann (Christian Goutsis), in a rather sticky situation.  He is under interrogation by the mysterious and pompous Monsieur Pierre (Damien Atkins) who claims that he is suspected of committing a crime. Meanwhile, Mann meets Frieda (Claire Calnan), a woman with her own problems, most notably her broken cuckoo clock and abusive husband, Adolphus (Kevin Bundy).  As the clockmaker takes on the task of repairing Frieda’s clock their relationship intensifies.  The audience follows this group between scenes of reality and scenes of questionable reality; where Mann and Frieda do not recognize one another, and have no recollection of their personal histories.  When the married couple and Mann finally unite with the presentation of the clock things turn sour.  Murder, revelation and final judgment with the world’s greatest clockmaker ensue. 

Deeply embedded in Masicotte’s text is the idea of a cycle; the cycle of time, the cycle of life, and at times the unnecessary cycle or repetition of basic text in dialogue.  Despite the quick delivery of the text, the repetition of dialogue throughout the play slowed down the pace and was ultimately a detriment to the piece.  The 95-minute production lagged due to this heavy dialogue and constant reiteration.

Time and life as a cycle are explored throughout the production aspects of White’s production. Scott Reid’s set highlights this theme with arches that resemble the circular cogs of a clock, beautifully framing the action on stage.  In particular the set is helpful in maintaining the uncertainty of time in relation to location that is required for the production.

The performances from the cast were varied, from Bundy’s strong physicality and naturalistic portrayal of Adolphus to the less than relatable overly stylized Mann.  In particular, Goutsis’s portrayal of Mann was far too unrealistic.  His overt nervousness and perpetual upward inflection was a constant annoyance.

Rounding out the production was the beautiful light design by Rebecca Picherack and sound design by Kevin McGugan.  Blackouts were filled with realistic soundscapes of long corridors and instrumental pieces that had hints of a ticking clock; all of which enhanced the viewing experience.  Most notably, Picherack and McGugan worked together to create rain scenes with a beautiful mix of colours and well timed puddle splashes.

The Clockmaker attempts to be a perfect sphere to which the cycles it discusses can rotate smoothly.  Unfortunately bumps such as lengthy dialogue and overpowering character choices create a break in the cycle and drag out the sequence creating a beautiful show with just too much talk and not enough tick-tock. 

Blasted - My Theatrical Nightmare

Blasted
Written by Sarah Kane
Directed by Brendan Healy
Starring David Ferry, Michelle Monteith and Dylan Smith
At Buddies in Bad Times Theatre
September 22 - October 17, 2010

Photo of Dylan Smith and David Ferry by Omer Yukseker

Open-minded is a term I would use when describing my tastes for the theatre. So when I was unconventionally led around the back alley behind the Buddies in Bad Times theatre on Friday, September 24th, I had an inkling that I was about to experience something good. With a mandate that is dedicated to the promotion of Queer culture, it is no wonder that Buddies in Bad Times is mounting the Canadian English-language premiere of Sarah Kane’s Blasted. Not only did the play deal with queer themes of sexuality, it also dealt with a situation of people that can be classified as outside of societal norms - queer. Instead of leaving the theatre elated by the performance I had seen; I was puzzled, confused, and slightly afraid.

Blasted deals with the complex relationship between Ian (David Ferry) and the much younger Cate (Michelle Monteith) beginning with their covert rendezvous in a hotel in Leeds. It is apparent that Ian’s age and power over Cate was a secret and that he is feeling the slip of his hold on her. Both Ferry and Monteith portray their respective characters with a strong sense of back-story; I could sense that the two had an odd and unique connection. It is clear that this relationship is not an accepted one in society. Monteith presents Cate with such a childish innocence that is then completely changed when Ian betrays her trust and wishes. Although not portrayed on stage, Ian rapes Cate when she insists that she must move on and that their sexual relationship is through.

Amidst their personal turmoil it becomes clear to audiences that the city has been attacked by a bomb when a soldier enters the hotel. Through his conversations with Ian, he soldier (Dylan Smith) reveals that the city is amidst a brutal war and he retells the atrocities of war. Ultimately the soldier rapes Ian and sucks out his eyes. The play continues to display controversial and at times uncomfortable acts including a beautifully disturbing performance by Ferry in a number of vignettes showing Ian’s masturbation, the eating of a dead baby, and his slow decay.

Despite running for an hour and forty-five minutes, not much seems to actually happen in Blasted. Instead of focusing on action, the play highlights the relationships of these three people and their reactions to the happenings around them. Arguably, having just one set (two if you wanted to get technical around the blasted version of the hotel room) feels like the play is more stagnant that it actually is. Often minutes went by without dialogue, bur rather a scene of real-time observation of how these characters were passing their time together.

In one of these particular moments at the beginning of the first act, Cate is left alone on stage while we hear Ian showering. Monteith highlights the hotel room’s appeal and simple beauty with her childish awe of the walls and bout of jumping on the bed. It seems like such a clean and safe space, contrary to the violating and disturbing acts that are to follow. After the blast the space is transformed into a dark and vast area, no longer resembling the pristine room from before, but rather it embodies the filth and deviance that the audience knows has and will occur there.

The graphic nature of the filth and deviance was a tough point in my viewing experience. I believe that it is much harder to leave a theatre when the work you are being presented makes you uncomfortable in comparison to turning off your television. I should tell you know that I’m a sensitive viewer in that graphic depictions make me uncomfortable; even watching the beginning credits of CSI makes me want to close my eyes. Having said this, I wouldn't identify myself as a conservative viewer either. Blasted’s depictions of rape and eye-removal made me squirm in my seat and hope that the worst had passed. Unfortunately, there was a lot more squirm inducing material throughout the piece.

As an audience member in the front row I was traumatized by not only watching Ian eat a dead baby, but by the piece of baby that was projected towards me as he spit it out. There is something about the reality of the actors on stage that made my already present weak stomach even weaker. It was as if I knew I could run up there and stop them, but societal norms reminded me to sit and soak in the piece I was being presented.

Similarly, the director Brendan Healy’s use of long bouts of darkness in between scenes created a sense of discomfort for me. Each break of darkness and the sound of rain seemed longer and louder, each pushing me to a larger state of uneasiness. Usually I love silence and darkness within a production, in fact, it excites me. Paired with the frightening nature of the production, however, I felt less than inclined to happily sit in the dark.

In the post-production talkback, Healy mentioned that it was important to illustrate the painfulness of being alive. I can empathize with the characters in the sense that watching their struggles on stage was hard both emotionally and physically for me. The performances and artistic choices were perhaps not of an esthetic that I subscribe, but were powerful nonetheless.

Leaving the theatre that night I didn’t have much to say. I was still in shock and perhaps I still am. I can see the artistic and political merit of staging Blasted, but could not manage to take much away from it after being alienated by the disturbing acts on stage. For that I wouldn’t suggest you see Blasted, or else you too might experience my theatrical nightmare.