6 Arts & Culture
The Brown Daily Herald Friday, October 14, 2011
A practice theory of theory and practice By Suzannah Weiss Arts & Culture Columnist
It is commonplace for academic disciplines to laud their own integration of theory and practice, as if such a move constituted bridging a gap. But one cannot combine two things that are always already together and which are not even two things. When I see my peers cringe at the word “theory” — it’s so abstract! — I hesitate to rip them away from the comforting delusion that their studies are not theoretical or abstract but rather in direct contact with reality. But one must only take a look at the changing, disputable and ultimately inadequate definitions of reality to expose this delusion. Scientists, scholars and artists alike have long been seen as treasure hunters, diving deep below the fog of illusions, lies and conflicting data to reach the reality of truth and beauty. But the supposed — one might say, theoretical — treasure will never present itself without the observer contributing to this presentation. One may argue that theories come from observations. But Einstein himself — Einstein, people — argued the reverse, telling Heisenberg that “it is the theory which decides what can be observed.” Then quantum physics came along to show us that the theory also determines what cannot be observed. This is the case in the sciences — though, as an exception, theoretical math is known as pure math, as if application would contaminate it — but let’s examine the case of the arts. We are accustomed to the belief that we live in a world of matter and mind, things and ideas. But things are ideas, and matter is mind. We think not about physical objects in the world, but about our conceptions of them, which are held together by our theories about the world and are invariably distant from the world itself. Some are creative enough to alter these conceptions by representing them in novel ways, proving that theory is not merely applied to art, but can also be furthered by it. The thought came to me as I browsed next semester’s course offerings that the Department of Theatre Arts and Performance Studies does this better than others. Perhaps this is because the practice of stepping into someone’s shoes requires a theory about them. The performer’s body language, gestures and sounds have
to occur as if they are in a given situation. This “as if ” is a defining part of theory. The French psychoanalyst Francoise Dolto once said in an interview, “What people call my ‘theory,’ I don’t believe is a theory, I believe ‘everything happens as if.’” Regardless of what is behind concrete sounds and images, the theory gets the vocal chords or pencil or paintbrush to behave “as if ” a believable and engaging idea is at stake. Theater also fits nicely with the theoretical idea — first put forward by Judith Butler — of performativity, the assumption of an identity. It happens as much on the street as on the stage. This appears to be the idea behind both TAPS 1630: “Performativity and the Body: Staging Gender, Staging Race” and TAPS 1690: “Performance, Art and Everyday Life,” both offered next semester. From my own experience, writing classes could use contemplation beyond the mere “what did you think of this book?” — the most interesting part to me is learning about the psychological reactions the author aimed to evoke in the reader — and visual arts professors could put more emphasis on teaching students to convey, or even discover, concepts through their work. Visual art lends itself to discussions of epistemology, culture and other profound topics. Illustration majors at the Rhode Island School of Design are required to take “concepts” courses to practice using their art to make statements, explore ideas or comment on social issues. For any art form, theory is needed in representing people. If you want to write, play or draw a character demographically different from yourself, it is crucial to consider the influence of factors such as gender, race and socioeconomic class. I know I’m getting into hot water with hipster-haters, so let me acknowledge that this is all theoretical drivel. But so is the theory-practice distinction. It’s never really one or the other. And revolutions can only start with new ideas. If your parents come this weekend and worry that you’re not doing anything practical, tell them that instead of submitting to the confines of reality, you want to change what reality means. And if you can’t get a job, you’ll just have to make sure to live life “as if ” you have one.
Courtesy of Momin Switat
The troupe, whose theater was demolished in 2002, hails from the West Bank’s Jenin refugee camp.
Refugee camp theater troupe tours U.S. By kristina fazzalaro Arts & Culture Editor
Going to the theater is a privilege often taken for granted in the United States. On campus alone, students can pick and choose the type of show they wish to attend each weekend — musical or play, comedy or drama, original production or reinterpretation. But in Palestine’s Jenin refugee camp, this opportunity exists only through the aspirations of the Freedom Theatre. Eric Ehn, professor of theatre arts and performance studies, welcomed members of the acting troupe to an intimate McCormack Family Theatre Wednesday evening to discuss their experience developing plays and educating students in the oppressive and turbulent atmosphere of the West Bank. The Jenin refugee camp was established in 1953 in the West Bank to house displaced Palestinians. Approximately 16,000 registered refugees live in the camp today, but it was not until 1987 that these individuals saw the dimming of the house lights, the opening of the curtain and the eruption of actors taking to the stage. It was then that Arna Mer Khamis first opened the Stone Theatre — Freedom Theatre’s predecessor — with her son, Juliano Mer Khamis. “For the first time in our lives, we didn’t expect what to see,” said Mustafa Staiti, a photography instructor at the theater. “(We were) not going
to see guns and bullets anymore — (we were) going to see a play.” Arna Mer Khamis came from a prominent Jewish family and held a job relocating Bedouins when she met Saliba Khamis, a Palestinian leader of the communist party in Israel, according to Staiti. He told Arna Mer Khamis she was not creating a free state for Jews but rather an oppressed state for Palestinians, Staiti said. The two married, and Arna Mer Khamis’ family disowned her as a result. Arna Mer Khamis visited the Jenin refugee camp in 1987 during the First Intifada — a six-year uprising by Palestinians against the Israeli occupation of disputed territories. Determined to aid the children of the camp in particular, Arna Mer Khamis established the program “In the Defence of Children under Occupation/Care and Learning,” an initiative that included the Stone Theatre as a production space and teaching venue. A second and intensified Palestinian uprising began in 2000 and reached Jenin in April 2002. The Israeli army levelled the camp’s buildings, and of the 75 dead, seven were actors of the Stone Theatre, Staiti said. “Not only people were killed, buildings destroyed, but minds were killed, culture was killed,” he said. It was to this macabre scene that Juliano Mer Khamis returned after
spending time working away from the camp. The events inspired him to make the film “Arna’s Children” and, amid requests from residents, to open a second theater and school — the Freedom Theatre. Since its opening in 2006, the theater has put on such shows as “Animal Farm,” “Fragments of Palestine” and “Alice in Wonderland” — plays dealing with occupation, revolution or individual freedom, said Momin Switat, a member of the troupe. Video clips from “Arna’s Children” and recent productions show the children of the Jenin camp coming together to learn acting and other creative means of expression and forget their surroundings for a short part of their day. In the camp, after curfew — around 5 or 6 p.m. — individuals are not able to leave their homes, Staiti said. The theater gives them a chance to escape that and hope for the future. “A girl has to move from her father’s house to her husband’s kitchen,” said one of the young girls in the subtitled video. “I will not end up in a kitchen.” One boy said he joined the theater “to enhance the reputation of our camp.” “They want us illiterate,” he said of Israelis. “Since the theater opened, we have something to live for.” The scenes shown were powerful, continued on page 8
Jazz group jams at Underground By marshall katheder Arts & Culture Staff Writer
There’s a rumble at the Underground. Upon approaching this Main Green venue, soft swung notes snake into your ears. You walk, and the bass takes a syncopate stroll. Its low grumble swings fluidly from plucked note to note, keeping pace with the soft clash of the drums. “It’s a vibe that pushes you to grow,” said Matt Block ’13, who founded these weekly Jazz Jam sessions last fall. “For me, it’s about the camaraderie — it’s loose and open. And the music really gets cooking.”
Almost every Wednesday night, a cabal of cool cats assembles to form a liquidlike ensemble — smooth tunes and studied nonchalance. The cast of musicians changes with each song, bringing fresh, brash brass to rip and feed into the plush sound. Block said he discussed starting the jam sessions with Matthew McGarrell, senior lecturer in music and director of the University’s official jazz band, and it took off from there. The group that meets now is fluid — members join in certain pieces and fade out in others. The jazz spirit of improvisation comes to life in the snare of a drum or wan of a
trumpet. “It’s all about being open to creativity, sharing the spotlight, getting the experience,” said Block, a seasoned trumpet player who honed his sound in his hometown of Philadelphia at the famous Chris’ Jazz cafe. The culture of jazz is both blaring and blase — passion is clear in the music, but the musicians, even after the sharpest numbers, slink off stage to join the head-bobbing sidelines. Their debonair sense hangs heavy, and a defined elegance pervades. The Jazz Jam will perform at Buxton House Wednesday, Oct. 19 at 9:30 p.m.