The Present Silence

Could it be said that we are in a moment of at once a proliferation of noise, and at the same time, a weird, uncanny silence?

The last month I have provided a curious mirror to public space: where a proliferation of "things" have appeared, I have myself maintained an empty, reflective, sort of vigilant silence, whilst undertaking a subtle and total change of my work. Rather than writing myself, the Ukrainian poet Lesya Ukrainka has sat on this page, as a sort of monument to hope, in a moment where cynical calculation proliferated.

It has not been a quiet period at all. As well as a humanitarian one, the invasion by Russia is an intense philosophical tragedy which has caused a deep reflection on my almost 16-year relationship with Ukraine, as a spectator to its tentative and imperfect journey out of militarisation, only to be finally and unequivocally dragged back in to horrific, bare violence by Russia's booted foot.

The noise accompanying this fatalist, resigned gesture of attack has sometimes been disgusting to watch, as Ukrainian self-determination is channeled by those who are not Ukrainian and have no understanding of it or interest in learning what it means. An alternative position is to sit back with the popcorn - and cynically viewing on from the media, it is easy to ask "what about...?" questions, that neatly sidestep the specific ethical questions that these specific Russian atrocities bring. The worst of these positions support some fictional "other side", the validity of which is best accounted for with the 50-page revisionist Ukrainian history written by the amateur historian, V. Putin, in August last year (mentioned a lot, but rarely well-analysed or actually even read).

If I have entered a particular type of crisis, a sort of chosen writer's block, then my Ukrainian colleagues, and especially their inspiring determination, calm, and resilience in the face of meaningless aggression, have led - and continue to lead - me through it, without fear.

Next week, beloved Faki Festival enters its 25th rendition in Zagreb, with a mix of shows that are adventurous "Real-theater". As I gear up for my last ride in the festival, ending an 8-year relationship, it's an important moment to reflect on the massive destruction to cultural infrastructure that has occurred over the pandemic. For a tradition like the festival to survive, it needs support, and instead, its foundations are constantly eroded by the heavy investment away from social fabric, under the guise of 'building wealth'. Hence the festival theme of this year "Enough!", designed to simultaneously question resource distribution and draw attention to the wasteland of culture that the pandemic left behind, and the imperative to support its rebuilding.

Mixing with that activity, I am presenting at the conference  on the subject of "cancel culture" and its effect on theatre, a conference happening alongside Nova Drama festival in Bratislava. The conference is interestingly titled "Contemporary Freedom and the New Crisis of Theatre Between Ideological Extremism and the ‘Cancel Culture’", which automatically raises questions for me about what theatre - an extremely inaccessible artform - could possibly offer in relation to "Cancel Culture", which itself seems ill-defined in today's context.

Finally, I am proud to present a concert from two new friends from Kharkiv with whom I have started a shared studio in the fabled suburb of Kreuzberg. That event Friends of Friends of Friends, is bound to be the first of many livestreamed concerts, as my colleagues continue the activity that they were doing in Kharkiv before it was horrifyingly interrupted.  Consider joining the livestream and donating to their chosen cause: an actor from Kharkiv who has spontaneously found a new career delivering emergency food to people in Kharkiv.

The decision to continue publishing today is not made lightly. Current attacks on culture and identity of communities are seismic and worthy of unequivocal condemnation, made without fear. As an artist from Mariupol said to me once: Culture is a shield - may it protect those who continue to carry forward the stage traditions of people, and who work for change, in siege situations or otherwise.

Contra spem spero! (Hope Against Hope)

By Lesya Ukrainka (1890)

Away, thoughts - you heavy, autumn clouds!
Now the spring comes, gleaming gold!
Is it with such pity, lamenting aloud
That the stories of young summers are told?

No, I want to laugh through my tears,
And sing songs amongst the fray,
Without hope comes fears,
Let me live! Sad thoughts - away!

Standing on poor and sad fallow land
I will sow colourful flowers,
I will sow flowers in cold sand,
I will give them bitter tear-showers.

And those tears will melt hot,
That crust is ice, strong,
Maybe, flowers come up - and plot
A spring for me that's happy and long.

On a steep flint mountain
I will lift a heavy stone
And, bearing that terrible burden,
I'll sing a fun song.

Through the long, endless, dark night,
Not for a moment will I close my eyes,
I will search for the star that lights,
The clear, bright mistress of the skies.

Yes! I will laugh through my tears,
and sing songs amongst the fray,
Without hope comes fears,
Let me live! Sad thoughts - away!

Translation - Richard Pettifer (2022)

with Olha Velymchanytsia

A little note on Ukraine

Ukrainian theatres and other cultural infrastructure are currently under bombardment and heavy artillery fire from the Russian military.

Many of my Ukrainian colleagues are displaced, others have been forced to put down their paintbrushes and picked up weapons to defend themselves. This scenario is a nightmare.

As a critic and theatre artist with a 15-year history of performance and exchange with Ukrainian people and Ukraine, I naturally join others in deploring the destruction of cultural infrastructure and the threatening and sometimes killing of Ukrainian artists and people.

In my visits to Ukraine, I have only ever discovered people turning their backs on their militarised history, and struggling for a better future against great odds. This has particularly occurred through cultural development, which takes generations to develop - and is destroyed in days. Obviously, this destruction must end immediately.

Vale Ben Landau

I have received tragic news of the passing of performing artist and friend Ben Landau.

Ben was a generous collaborator, with whom I was in regular dialogue about issues of aesthetics and community, beginning with our time together at Queen's College in Melbourne when we were both students in the early 2000s. 

I will remember Ben for his openness and flexibility, as well as his imagination and curiosity.

I am greatly saddened by the passing of a great artist, friend to many, and member of the community.

Vale Ben Landau.

Review of the Exhibition 'Projections for Future History'

 My writing about this exhibition at B5 Studios, Targu Mures, was published over at the Romanian magazine Revista Arta.

Available here: https://revistaarta.ro/en/an-audience-without-the-public/

Or, if you read Romanian, here - https://revistaarta.ro/ro/o-audienta-fara-public/

The Artist is Absent: Publication in University of Tartu journal "Methis"

Among the more interesting developments to affect theatre practice lately has been certain adoptions of Non-Human Agency - basically the concept that other-than-humans may be capable of independent action.

I wrote about this at length for a special edition of the University of Tartu's open-access journal Methis, following the presentation of these ideas at a conference at that same university in 2019. Written as I was intensively developing an opera and coinciding with some health issues, it's publication is something that I look at with some sense of pride and achievement.

The publication is available here (21-pages PDF),

 https://ojs.utlib.ee/index.php/methis/article/view/18443

...while the full edition, which contains some rollicking papers about technology and percpetion in the theatre, with a particular focus on the Estonian context, is available here:

https://ojs.utlib.ee/index.php/methis/issue/view/1297/62

Youth Everlasting And Life Without End: Flogging the mechanical horse in Timișoara

Like your best friend at a party, fairy tales are always with us – even when we need them to get lost. 

Petre Ispirescu’s fairy tales, collected from various folk tales (à la Brothers Grimm) and published by him in the 1800s, are a source of Romanian national mythology – appearing countless times as puppet shows, on television, or in school curriculum. Though as fairy tales they are saturated in Romanian culture, there is simultaneously a lack of specific or critical perspectives on them. In this way, they sit under the surface like crocodiles, unquestioned, dormant, yet filled with a certain type of potential.

Performed for three sweaty July nights in public space in Timișoara, Western Romania, Youth Everlasting And Life Without End revives one of Ispirescu’s most loved stories about a prince temporarily escaping the problems of the real world.  It's all part of Europe’s Centriphery project – a roaming, multi-year project that develops site-specific events across ‘peripheral’ locations of EU states. Romania’s entry to Centriphery, which also forms part of Timisoara's hosting of the Capital of Culture, takes the form of a spectacular live-action puppet extravaganza, with gargantuan characters parading around Piața Libertății (Freedom Square), to the sound of a wailing, multi-harmony, live, rock-inspired soundtrack.

 

Photo: Flavius Neamciuc

There’s a lot to like about the outcome on a local level, even if the network of partners and stakeholders that creates it is pretty complicated. For one thing, the situation offers the artistic community of Timișoara a chance to strut their stuff on a big, big stage. The costumes by Lia Pfeiffer are a highlight, as are the gargantuan puppet-heads made from recycled materials by Ciprian Tauciuc. The music by Sol Faur, with sound by guest artist Connie Zenk, pulls you along in its ebbs and flows, incredibly supported by a quartet of vocalists (led by Choir master Beatrix Imre Leila) that begin in the first minute of the performance and do not stop singing until the 90^th.