But as a director, the whole thing looks very different. Having all these people watch a show is one thing. In an open rehearsal, though, they feel justified to comment, and more than that, they feel almost obliged to criticize. I know pretty well what we need to work on - the show is still not quite ready. The last thing the performers need is having people tell them everything they thought went wrong. Of course, you can just ignore the comments, or use them to your profit. But for that you need a lot of experience and distance, which my performers do not have. On the other hand, they obviously need the practice in front of a public.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm so old-fashioned, I still believe in a work's aura. The term, first defined in modern context by Walter Benjamin's text Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, was also considered (by the author and most those who followed) a thing of the past. The idea is fairly simple: if the unique quality of an object of appreciation is taken away, its aura, the thing that turns an aesthetic experience into a quasi-sacred one, disappears. Well, in this case, I consider the "aura" to be the thing that makes us want to forget the rest of the world and stay with the work of "art" (in this sense, it is still quite present). Creating a "working" context changes the type of experience. Everything becomes close and reacheable, manoeuvrable. This can work in many cases, as in dance, or some forms of theater, or, obviously, in the case of sketches and drawings. But imagine a work-in-progress of Vanessa Beecroft's, or Robert Wilson's work. Maybe there are some things that shouldn't be seen before they're ready?
2 comments:
Leaving aside, if you allow me, the feelings of your performers as a different issue, I would submit, that in any art, showing work in progress is not so much giving others the opportunity to criticize as helping them understand the creative process.
Maybe the work is never finished, maybe the artist is always dissatisfied, always wanting to add another touch: shouldn't works be seen before they are ready, if they are never going to be ready.
For me, one of the most revelling books about creation is the story by James Lord of his portrait by Giacometti. Lord took notes everyday and a photograph every evening. Every morning Giacometti restarted his portrait almost from scratch. He never really felt that he had finished the painting, and Lord had almost to snatch it from him.
Don't let yourself be impressed, I wish you a good performance.
Dear Vvoi,
I wanted to send you a not public comment on a comment by E-mail, but could not find a way for that. Maybe you'll send me your E-mail adress to hansheinerbuhr@gmail.com
Hans
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