I have been reading into the book „Erzählende Affen“ which I thought might give some insight into important aspects stories. Up until now the book, though, is covering old ground – the hero’s journey – and the only thing new is the analysis of popular culture (Films, TV and even Reality TV) in the light of story theory. And full of cute platitudes. I will probably keep reading but I find myself drifting and not just from tiredness.
This morning I discovered a folder full of poems and writings written by me in the Berkeley phase on my old electric typewriter. I think that one possible journey that I can take on this residence is delving into not only my old choreographies but also my old writings. Rediscovering my 1980s self.
I notice that the biggest monster lurking in this residenz landscape that I am journeying through is – tada – the Thinker from Tricameron. In other words, the inner critic. I realize that I have adjusted my criteria for what is good art through the years of working as a small professional ensemble trying to be recognized. Naturally most of our R.A.B. criteria is valid. But when I work I realize that I have difficulties trusting my abilities outside of R.A.B. territory.
Especially in the realms of poetry, drawing/painting and dance.
I have often in my life experienced, when entering another artistic circle, the limited expectations others have of me through their first impressions of my work. When I was in high school poetry, architecture, piano playing and drawing were all part of what defined me. Then theatre entered my life big time and I played character parts with a wide range of qualities. When I entered the HSU Theatre Department my artwork reduced itself to making posters. Instead of getting character roles I kept on getting the role of the „best friend“ – Le Bret, Sebastian, Bharatha, the Prince of Wales, even Beckett in a sense was a best friend – with the exceptions of Lucky and The Colonel.
Pantomime and Fencing and Folkdance entered my repertoire.
Then I moved to Berkeley. As far as acting goes I continued to get „best friend“ roles but suddenly Dromio – a clown character – was different.
But as I did more and more experimental theatre work I was known for THAT. I will always remember how Richard Yungclas condescendingly told me how „we would work only with movement“ in KATAS because the voice was too much „new“ territory. (When I write this I suddenly think, „Maybe I misunderstood him.)
It is wierd to realize how quickly one gets put in a box. And… how quickly one puts oneself in a box!
LATER
It is, though, the real work in this residence: What does it mean to be an artist? What does it mean to be the artist Len Shirts? Is Salamander (my high school penname) still a valid concept, is he still around?
Do I want to say anything with concrete theater or do I want to…
Random Poem 29. March 2022
(first letter found through 20-sided dice)
For this to be
Whatever our desires wish to become
but fear will not,
lesser evils must be ignored
Possibility
Does the desire
wait behind celestial wings
hoping for emergence into the world?
Goddess? God? Godless?
No, for this to be
Perhaps we need simply to believe
Quietly but constantly feeding our hopes and dreams
Gathering the moments
Given to us.