In the middle of all this personal angst about how the members of Tectonic related to the larger Laramie community, I nevertheless feel a certain amount of personal connection to two of its members: Stephen Belber and Greg Pierotti. Perhaps it is because these two writers and actors of Tectonic Theater have both been willing to lay bare their own experiences with Laramie, their struggles and mistakes, and how the play still haunts them. Maybe that's also the reason I've found it so hard to find a similar personal connection with Kaufman. In contrast to Belber and Pierotti, Kaufman usually positions himself as the artistic theorist or architect, and perhaps that distant, forensic persona makes it harder for me to relate to him.
In any case, if you want to see why I tend to sympathize with Pierotti, he has a great article in the Advocate you should really check out. In a real sense, the first article is telling his own story, and how Matthew Shepard and researching TLP changed his life. The series ballooned into, so far, a seven-part exploration of the two plays as the company prepared to put both on tour last fall, and the whole thing is a fantastic read. You can get Pierotti's perspective on everything from how the Tyler Clementi story relates to TLP to safety on college campuses to the problem of making snap judgments-- about gays and lesbians, but also about Christians, and he's very up front with where his own snap judgments lead to. Please forgive me if I label the whole series a "must read." For those who want to see how Tectonic-- in this case, Pierotti's view, at least-- sees the world, it's quite valuable. And it will challenge your assumptions about Tectonic Theater and the way they operate. The links to all seven parts are below!
On the Road with Laramie, Part 1-- August 10, 2010
On the Road with Laramie, Part 2-- August 25, 2010
On the Road with Laramie, Part 3-- September 14, 2010
On the Road with Laramie, Part 4-- October 6, 2010
On the Road with Laramie, Part 5-- October 18, 2010
On the Road with Laramie, Part 6-- Jan 11, 2011
On the Road with Laramie, Part 7-- February 8, 2011
Calling all Theater companies and performers!
Open Call to Theater companies, performers, researchers:
I would like to hear other voices besides my own on this blog. If you'd like to write about your TLP experiences here, e-mail them to me and I'll put them up.
Topics can include dramaturgy to staging to personal responses to the play. Anything goes!
I would like to hear other voices besides my own on this blog. If you'd like to write about your TLP experiences here, e-mail them to me and I'll put them up.
Topics can include dramaturgy to staging to personal responses to the play. Anything goes!
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Even 4chan Can't Stand the WBC...
Wanna see something just hilarious? Click on the image below to read the whole thing.
The image screen capture is courtesy of the blogger Joe My God. I've decided to put our differences aside for one day and give him a high-five for snagging this. Thanks, Joe!
Apparently, Cindy Phelps Roper got just a little mouthy about the purported Internet attack on Westboro Baptist Church and Anonymous has finally had enough. Shortly after proclaiming on a live, on-air radio program that God made the Internet just so WBC could spread their rant to the whole world and (more or less) invoked the protection of God over their servers, a spokesperson from Anonymous (on the same radio program) took their website down in about 45 seconds with a "swift and emotionless b%&#%slap" courtesy of 4chan.
As of 3:00 EST today, I tried to get on the WBC servers, and all their sites are STILL down. Yowza. If you like brimstone served with a side of poetic justice, you can see most of the radio interview on YouTube courtesy of the David Packman Show. If you want to skip Cindy Phelps-Roper grinning like a zombie and being her generally unlovable self, however, the money shot starts somewhere around the 8:00 mark.
I know I shouldn't take joy in the suffering of our enemies. But I did a little dance for joy when I saw this nonetheless. Oh well.
The image screen capture is courtesy of the blogger Joe My God. I've decided to put our differences aside for one day and give him a high-five for snagging this. Thanks, Joe!
Apparently, Cindy Phelps Roper got just a little mouthy about the purported Internet attack on Westboro Baptist Church and Anonymous has finally had enough. Shortly after proclaiming on a live, on-air radio program that God made the Internet just so WBC could spread their rant to the whole world and (more or less) invoked the protection of God over their servers, a spokesperson from Anonymous (on the same radio program) took their website down in about 45 seconds with a "swift and emotionless b%&#%slap" courtesy of 4chan.
As of 3:00 EST today, I tried to get on the WBC servers, and all their sites are STILL down. Yowza. If you like brimstone served with a side of poetic justice, you can see most of the radio interview on YouTube courtesy of the David Packman Show. If you want to skip Cindy Phelps-Roper grinning like a zombie and being her generally unlovable self, however, the money shot starts somewhere around the 8:00 mark.
I know I shouldn't take joy in the suffering of our enemies. But I did a little dance for joy when I saw this nonetheless. Oh well.
Labels:
Fred Phelps,
lol,
WBC
Friday, February 25, 2011
This Just In: I'm Not Flunking Out!
Well, I heard back officially yesterday: after writing what I thought was the most unintelligent, incomprehensible piece of oh-just-forget-spelling-I-want-to-SLEEP examination I thought possible, I have actually passed my field exam in the Renaissance! STOP THE PRESSES! I have been declared competent! I'd like to thank God, my husband, my exam coordinator, Prozac, the guy who discovered caffeine, and my therapist.
But do you know what this really means??? I am officially cleared to teach your children British Literature I.
Muahahaha!
But do you know what this really means??? I am officially cleared to teach your children British Literature I.
Muahahaha!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A Winter Sunset in Laramie
So, it's been a week since I turned in my second field exam, and I'm finally feeling like I'm "recovered" from the experience. Due to some medical quirks, stress just tends to wipe me out physically, and when I turned in my exam I went back home and slept for eleven hours. So that was my convenient excuse to sit on my butt most of the following week and do nothing.
Well, I didn't exactly do nothing. In the last week I went to two SEC basketball games with my husband, a choir concert, and a friend's birthday party. I finally got to go to my liturgical prayer group, get back involved with the LGBTA, and even do a little curling. After months of doing nothing but school nonstop, I feel like such a hedonist. And I discovered that it feels pretty nice.
The only thing I'm missing in this sudden glut of Appalachian spring are the sunsets. Normally, we have simply amazing sunsets here in the evenings, full of blazing deep oranges and fuschia, but they haven't been living up to expectations recently. The afternoon clouds roll in like the tide and stifle the twilight sky. So, that naturally means I'm longing for some wide, open vistas with color. So, I thought I'd share the ones I keep sticking on my computer while I'm supposed to be working.
I'll start from north-central Wyoming, not terribly far from where some of my relatives live:
That's still not as deep as it looked from the top of this pasture. My dad and I were just speechless at how vibrant the pink clouds looked.
This is from Bosler as I approached Laramie from the North back in January. The sky had a nice, deep set of salmon and yellow to it:
Sometimes, even Bosler can be pretty. Both summer storm-clouds and twilight skies suit it admirably. A little farther down the road I stopped and snapped this one:
This one is from Laramie, about eight miles or so north of town. Yes, the color vibrance has been adjusted in this photo, but not as near as much as you'd think. That tiny purple streak along the very edge of the horizon wasn't showing up as well as I could see it with my eyes. I hope you enjoy!
Well, I didn't exactly do nothing. In the last week I went to two SEC basketball games with my husband, a choir concert, and a friend's birthday party. I finally got to go to my liturgical prayer group, get back involved with the LGBTA, and even do a little curling. After months of doing nothing but school nonstop, I feel like such a hedonist. And I discovered that it feels pretty nice.
The only thing I'm missing in this sudden glut of Appalachian spring are the sunsets. Normally, we have simply amazing sunsets here in the evenings, full of blazing deep oranges and fuschia, but they haven't been living up to expectations recently. The afternoon clouds roll in like the tide and stifle the twilight sky. So, that naturally means I'm longing for some wide, open vistas with color. So, I thought I'd share the ones I keep sticking on my computer while I'm supposed to be working.
I'll start from north-central Wyoming, not terribly far from where some of my relatives live:
That's still not as deep as it looked from the top of this pasture. My dad and I were just speechless at how vibrant the pink clouds looked.
This is from Bosler as I approached Laramie from the North back in January. The sky had a nice, deep set of salmon and yellow to it:
Sometimes, even Bosler can be pretty. Both summer storm-clouds and twilight skies suit it admirably. A little farther down the road I stopped and snapped this one:
This one is from Laramie, about eight miles or so north of town. Yes, the color vibrance has been adjusted in this photo, but not as near as much as you'd think. That tiny purple streak along the very edge of the horizon wasn't showing up as well as I could see it with my eyes. I hope you enjoy!
Labels:
In Pictures,
landscape,
Wyoming
Monday, February 14, 2011
The Texture of Memory Is Corduroy
[Jackrabbit is nearing the home stretch on her field exam! In the meantime, here's part two of that conversation regarding cognitive literary studies and The Laramie Project. If I have any brains left after the exam, I'll rejoin you shortly.]
So, in my last post I shared a personal anecdote that created a little doubt about Jed Schultz's version of events regarding his parents' ambivalence to his acting career in The Laramie Project. He claims that his duet from Angels in America was the first time his parents hadn't come to support him, but my friend "Andie" can remember lots of times that they didn't come to events because of scheduling conflicts. So, whom do I believe? Now that we're almost ten years down the road... I believe them both. Perhaps I don't believe that they both represent objective reality. But I do believe that both versions have story truth, and without any way to determine the objective facts, that's what I have to settle for.
Here's what I mean: I thoroughly believe that this moment was the first time Jed felt disappointment in his parents; it's also the first time he had to break away from their authority and suffer the consequences. I believe that his dismay and disappointment is real. And, as for "Andie?" I believe that her memory accurately represents her childhood recollections of paling around at school and church together with Jed because both of them had extremely busy parents. Now that the objective truth can't be discovered, I have to settle for story truth. He remembers the disappointment. She remembers the strength of their childhood relationship in the face of parents who couldn't always be there.
So, story truth isn't the same as objective truth, but it has value nonetheless. It's not a distinction we're normally willing to make, but it's an important one for understanding how we should approach the truth of The Laramie Project. If we treat this play as only forensic, verifiable fact, two things will happen. One is that people will discover that a lot of it's not "true" and want to reject what it has to tell us. The other is that they won't understand the depth and complexity that this play has to offer. We have to understand that the texture of memory is uneven and full of gaps, layers and crevices. We have to feel the textures of memory more like it's corduroy than silk.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Feeling the Textures of Memory in TLP
[Hello all! I'm starting my Renaissance field exam this weekend, and so while I'm tearing my hair out over Christopher Marlowe and John Donne, I've written a couple of posts to bide the time while I'm away. Hope you enjoy them!]
As is pretty obvious at this point, I am fascinated by memory and how people create their sense of identity from their experiences. When I teach my research course here at the university, we use autobiographical memory as a theme that we study and learn research techniques about. In particular, we spend time learning about how frail memory actually is, and how those memories we use to define ourselves get molded to fit how we see the world. If you look at the two previous blog series about my own memories of this event, that's really clear, too: my memory is riddled with inconsistencies which are often dictated by the stories I want to tell-- or want to hide-- about who I think I am.
No memory can be told without a narrative, but the contingencies of storytelling-- of audience, of intent, overall meaning, interpretation-- will invariably rework the material of memory into something else, something with a different texture than before. And those who listen must take that narrative and reverse-engineer it to glean information, to re-create an idea of what that original, "pristine" memory once looked like. They try to flatten out the textures of memory to make it what it once was. And I think many would argue that such an exercise is folly. Instead of trying to flatten out those textures, a better tack might be to run our fingers over them, feel its knap and inconsistencies as part of their makeup.
As is pretty obvious at this point, I am fascinated by memory and how people create their sense of identity from their experiences. When I teach my research course here at the university, we use autobiographical memory as a theme that we study and learn research techniques about. In particular, we spend time learning about how frail memory actually is, and how those memories we use to define ourselves get molded to fit how we see the world. If you look at the two previous blog series about my own memories of this event, that's really clear, too: my memory is riddled with inconsistencies which are often dictated by the stories I want to tell-- or want to hide-- about who I think I am.
No memory can be told without a narrative, but the contingencies of storytelling-- of audience, of intent, overall meaning, interpretation-- will invariably rework the material of memory into something else, something with a different texture than before. And those who listen must take that narrative and reverse-engineer it to glean information, to re-create an idea of what that original, "pristine" memory once looked like. They try to flatten out the textures of memory to make it what it once was. And I think many would argue that such an exercise is folly. Instead of trying to flatten out those textures, a better tack might be to run our fingers over them, feel its knap and inconsistencies as part of their makeup.
Labels:
Jed Schultz,
memory,
narrative,
personal memory,
truth,
Truth and Reconciliation
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
This moment of ambivalence brought to you by: Iconography!
Okay, since I'm slaving away on studying for my second field exam as we speak, I didn't want to leave everyone without at least something to chew over while I'm away from the blog. So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce a work by Father William Hart McNichols, a priest, former Jesuit, and very talented Catholic iconographer (check out his other work at that link above).
The work is a prayer card depiction passion, dedicated to "The Memory Of The "1,470 Gay and Lesbian Youth Who Commit Suicide In the U.S. Each Year And To The Countless Others Who Are Injured Or Murdered." I love the sentiment of this prayer card, but... Whatever. Let's see what you all think.
The work is a prayer card depiction passion, dedicated to "The Memory Of The "1,470 Gay and Lesbian Youth Who Commit Suicide In the U.S. Each Year And To The Countless Others Who Are Injured Or Murdered." I love the sentiment of this prayer card, but... Whatever. Let's see what you all think.
Ready? Discuss.
Labels:
ambivalence,
Christianity,
faith,
Matt Shepard,
memorials
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)