Powerpuff Controversy

Please go read this article.

The cover in question

Mimi Yoon was commissioned by Cartoon Network and IDW to re-imagine the Powerpuff Gilrs in her signature, clearly anime-influenced (not to mention owing something to those BRATZ dolls), style. Obviously, she made them older, but what I see are three teen girls who's poses reflect the characters as we know them, standing in triumph over a defeated enemy. (She even got a variation of Blossom's "fists on hips" stance)

(Mojo Jojo, to be exact, who's pretty much just a massive Asian stereotype, but no one really wants to tackle that issue.)

My first thought upon seeing it? "Cute." Nothing more, nothing less. The proportions of their bodies don't feel overly exaggerated (ok, aside from the eyes/heads - but that's a long time anime trope), and the poses seem innocent enough. Based on the art itself, I don't immediately think, "not for kids."

Not liking the style is a whole 'nother matter. I'm personally not a huge fan of anime, as I find the big eye thing kinda creepy. However, I can also recognize talent, even in styles I'm not overly fond of.

You can take some task with aging the girls, but is it inherently wrong to imagine that Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup might grow older, and continue to be heroic? That seems like a pretty empowering thought, to me. Which goes along with Dirk Woods' response:

I think they were thinking of it more along the lines of “female empowerment” than the kind of thing you guys are talking about, but certainly, we’re sensitive to the issues here. 

Fan art

Are there people out there with anime fetishes, for example, who might be aroused by this? Oh, you bet, but, as I've asked before, do we really want a society that judges, and moves to censor, everything on the level of those furthest outside the norm? Does the fact that maybe 10 people out of a hundred get boners negate the 90 people who may just see a pretty cool re-interpretation of the characters?

Take the fan art to the right, it's the same concept, The Powerpuff Girls grown up, and the style is far more realistic, clearly using models to set the poses. It also strikes me as much more sexualized than what Yoon created. All supermodel bulging boobs and hitched hips.

Of course, that's fan art and not official IDW/Cartoon Network material. It is a difference. And there's FAR, FAR worse fan art out there...believe me.

*SHUDDER*

It is a matter of perception, I admit. With such a personal thing like sexuality and eroticism, it always is. Some people are into babyism, different strokes, folks.

When Dennis Barger looks at Mimi Yoon's art he sees sex. I see three heroic teenage girls. His interpretation of them wearing "rubber fetish wear" is also not the first thing that came to my head, either (looks like a pretty standard, anime-influenced, "superhero" costumes based on the outfits from the show).

I honestly can't help wondering if that says more about him than the art itself.

And now, of course, IDW and Cartoon Network have pulled the cover.

OK, Amanda Palmer, You Win the Internet, but Let's Have a Chat

My feelings about Amanda Palmer, and her concept/concepts about funding art, and herself, are pretty well documented. Today, however, we move past that.

On Sunday, April 21st, 2013, Ms. Palmer published a poem on her blog, called A Poem For Dzhokhar, which I like. I found it a nice little meditation on the events since April 15th. I don't read it as "pro-" or "anti-" anything. Simply a series of random thoughts an comments that came to her as this drama played out around us.

Good for her. If I HAD to apply some sort of larger "concept" to the thing, it'd be "pain is pain" (for lack of anything more clever coming to mind). That everything that confronts us, be it the crisis of the past days, or the supermarket only offering 2% milk, are all painful. They're all things to be overcome.

But that's my interpretation. Yours may vary. Everyone's will vary...because that's the nature of "art." If you, as an "artist," want to put this sort of creation out there, 6 days after such an event, you better be willing to take the proverbial slings and arrows that come with the passions that are running high.

In fact, I'd have to guess that's EXACTLY why Amanda Palmer did it. Her concept of "asking" for funding is predicated on staying relevant and in the public eye. Just like every internet-based business, she lives and dies on site hits, and the more people who view the page will increase the number who'll hit that "donate" button. Both to The One Fund, to aid Boston victims, but also to her own fundraising site.

So, Ms. Palmer, once again, you win the internet. Your self-promotion continues like a unstoppable freight train. I have to admit, I admire the determination and seeming laser-focus you are able to employ.

And, y'know, good on her. You create something, you put it out there, and set up a way for those who admire it to support the victims, and yourself. Well done, and I mean that sincerely.

Then...things get hinky.

Of course she received criticism. It was inevitable. It was predictable. It was unavoidable the second she hit "post" on that blog. The instant you picked that title for a piece that, literally, could've been called dozens of other things ("millions" Palmer says). Of course, those other titles wouldn't have guaranteed the same kind of search engine responses, would it?

I think the people who criticized the poem are idiots, frankly, but there are a ton of them in the world. There's nothing there that's truly incendiary or awful...and, in fact, most of it seems unrelated to the Boston bombing/manhunt, at all. So, Amanda (which seems presumptuous of me, but whatever), I like your poem, I think most of your critics are overreacting.

Then, however, you committed one of my few cardinal sins...You didn't just let the work speak for itself. You wrote another blog. A blog in which one of the major points is that her poem was "misinterpreted."

And, y'know what? That's bullshit. It's utter and bald-faced bullshit. It's not bullshit because of the poem, it's bullshit because Amanda Palmer decided that her poem didn't say enough, that it had to be explained, at worst, or the reader had to be guided, at best. In either case, you've just ripped the heart out of your creation, your "art" and stomped on it.

This all connects to a thesis I've long held to, in that creative people, such as Ms. Palmer, and myself, need to fucking stop calling ourselves "artists," and what we create "art." Why? Because we don't get to make that call, our audience does.

What we create? A poem, a play, a song, a book, whatever, is not art until someone else calls it such. Until that point, it's, for lack of a better term, a thing. It can be a very personal thing, with huge gobs of ourselves in it, but unless that communicates to someone else, it ain't fucking art. I feel like calling our work "art" just gives us an out to make indulgent bullshit. It gives us an out to make impenetrable crap that when people don't understand it, we can't step back and excuse our lack of success, our lack of communicating something, because "they just don't get art."

That's bullshit. It also generally means that every creative endeavor is art, because someone, somewhere, is sure to get something out of it. Thing is, what they "get" might not be what we intended, at all. As a creator, you have to be prepared for, and accept that.

The most annoying thing in that entire second blog, for me was this moment:

many people – even the people who loved the poem – thought this poem was directed “at dzhokhoar”.
 
as in: you, you, you.

read it again.

No, no, no, Amanda, because after you put your creation out into the world...it is no longer your place to tell people how to read or interpret it (asking to be paid for it, another matter). The fact that you're out there trying to guide people in, like the dude with the flashlights at the airport, just makes me feel like you are not confident in your creation.

Oh, and the "happy national poetry month" as a sign off? Way to be passive-aggressive. Big turn off.

If A Poem For Dzhokhar doesn't say what you want it to say, all on it's own, frankly, take it down. If, as I suspect, it does..then leave the whole damn thing alone. Let your creation stand on it's own. Live or die, succeed or fail, on it's own merits.

No, Art Shouldn't Be Easy

"There's no making ['Tom Sawyer'] easier to play - it still takes everything I've got. To get the right sound and feel, a drum part like 'Tom Sawyer' requires full-force, blunt-object pounding with hands and feet, but there's also a demanding level of technique, smoothness, and concentration. Playing 'Tom Sawyer' properly - or as close as I can get on a given night - requires full mental, technical, and physical commitment, and I can?t imagine there would be any way to make that kind of output easier. And if you ask me, it shouldn't be. If it wasn't hard, it wouldn't be satisfying to get it right!" - Neil Peart, "Thus Spoke Neil" Drum Magazine, June 2009

Most writers I know run that idiotic number about "Oh, I like to have written but I don't like to write. It's hard work."... Of course it's hard work. If it weren't hard work, everybody would be doing it. And the better you do it, the harder the work is... Art is supposed to be hard.- Harlan Ellison, Dreams With Sharp Teeth

It ain't art...but I like it

So, wow...two blogs in one day.

I was thinking about something over the last couple of days, and it might bear some discussion on my part;

One of the things that I believe in, regarding theatre, is that we, as the purveyors of such, have forgotten that our form is at it's height when we entertain. Now, I don't mean solely entertain, or only aim for the lowest common denominator, but to leave the audience with a sense that they enjoyed their time with our story. We can strive for any number of higher goals if we keep that function squarely in our sights.

Shakespeare was an entertainer, he wrote what he thought would sell. He wrote for the groundlings. He wrote dick and fart jokes, for God's sake. Now, he also spoke (wrote) many, many truths about the human condition, but he understood that the audience would remember that they enjoyed themselves more than anything else.

Anthony Neilson is absolutely correct in this piece from The Guardian.

Our audiences should never, ever feel like they "should" go to the theatre, they should get excited. The same way I get excited to go to a new movie. They are two forms that are linked in many, many ways. Sure, we don't have special effects and CGI, but we share almost every other storytelling technique. Why is it people enjoy going to the movies, but feel theatre is a civic duty?

Because my friends, we have failed. We have bought into the idea that we are creating something "more important" than what's playing at the local cinema. The public labeled us "elitist," and, frankly, we embraced it. We liked the idea we were doing something "important," and that the mass audience would simply be confused or turned off by it.

I had a discussion not long ago, in which I said, in reference to a play I was reading, "it's got no climax." The response I got from a fellow theatre professional was, "I like that it has no climax." I am still agog at this. It's the kind of response that favors some sort of theatrical inventiveness over an audience's experience. An audience's desire to have the story resolve in a definable way.

Basic story structure is universal because it works. I'm not saying you can't muck about with it, or disregard rules, but, ultimately, the climax is where your audience sees how your story has impacted and changed the world of the play. It's the place where they are rewarded for watching your story. It's one thing to have the ultimate meaning and impact of your climax murky, to leave your audience with questions, it's another to say, "well, it's over. GOODNIGHT!"

In a lot of ways, I think our problem comes down to this idea that we are creating ART, instead of creating theatre. Honestly, here's my take, "art" is a descriptor that is solely the purview of your audience. I create, or help create, a show, and then I turn it over to the audience and they decide if it's "art." This doesn't let us off the hook to create intelligent drama, but it puts the needs of the audience over ours. if we spent more time thinking about what someone who's looking for a compelling night out needs, instead of how to impress the folks over at, say, Halcyon (Hi Jen and Tony!) with how "challenging" our latest show is, we might reach out to a larger audience.

We've been playing to ourselves for so long, we don't even know what a general audience is, anymore. When I lived in Omaha, there were something like 30 operating theatre companies in the metro area. Y'know who the audiences were, outside of the Community Playhouse, who actually draws the general public?

Other. Theatre. People.

Which is largely the problem in Chicago right now. We send show notices to our friends, who are other actors, actresses, directors, designers, stage managers, whathaveyou. We don't even know how to reach the general public anymore. I couldn't tell you how to do it, I'm just as much at a loss as anyone else. Even if we could get them to come, what are we giving them? What are we putting on the stage to get people involved with our stories? We've grown to distrust simple human drama, the kind of storytelling that draws in an audience and binds them to the characters. We're too busy trying flashy narrative devices and odd staging to understand that 90% of the human race (if not more) doesn't give a shit.

Tell a good story with truth and conviction, and people will be moved. Far, far too often I see plays bogged down in trying to make some sort of important point, or worse, trying to fit every, single facet of some point into a script that can't support it, losing the audience because the emotional drive is lost. The connection to the characters is lost. Your story can touch on political topics, social injustice, macroeconomics, whatever you want, but the STORY is what touches an audience and will make them understand the point you are making.

Now, there's a opposite to this viewpoint, and that's a world with nothing but Oklahoma! and Bye, Bye Birdie! revivals. No one wants that. However, there is a way to tell powerful, moving stories that still grip an audience with great storytelling. Make your point as simply as possible, tie it to your characters, and your audience will understand. Create theatre that informs or critiques our society, and still sends the audience out of the theatre saying "God damn that was a great story."

The future of our craft is in our own hands.

Artists and Communication

Any artistic endeavor, is, at it's core, one thing, and one thing alone...communication. The most important skill for any artist to develop and nurture is the ability to express their ideas. Now, you can do that any way you want, speech, words on a paper or computer screen, paint on a canvas, but you have to be able to convey something to the people around you.

Jackson Pollock is my favorite painter, hands down. He works in the realm of the abstract. Yet he's still expressing a mood or emotion in a vibrantly clear way. Blue Poles, Number II gives you an entirely different "feel" than, say, Lavender Mist, Number 1. (Computer images do not do these works justice.)

When you enter the realm of a collaborative art form, theatre, or film, or music, this skill becomes even more vital.

I'm starting work on a comic book project with an artist. We spent a lot of time just throwing ideas back and forth, and honestly telling each other our thoughts. We came to an understanding about the storyline, in a broad sense, and the look of the project. Things can, and will, change and adapt, but he and I have now come to a starting point where we both understand what we're trying to achieve. I can think about it while I'm working on the script (which I better get on, the "deadline" is Saturday), and he can think about it working on the visuals.

The goal is clear, and it gives us freedom to play around with our own parts in the enterprise. Anything I come up with must move us toward the target we've set. The concept we've agreed to explore. Music can work in much the same way.

When you talk theatre or film, things are a little different. This artist and I are forming a partnership, it's just us, and we are equals. When you enter into a theatrical production, for example, your director is your leader, and they are tasked to bring your concept, your goal, to the table. They provide the ultimate vision that the actors and tech crew are there to support.

Unless the artist heading the project can effectively share his or her views about the work they are trying to make, the entire team will feel lost. This vision is what keeps the project on track, and drives it to it's goal. The goal, of course, is to share that vision with the eventual audience, but how can it be effectively conveyed to them, if it's not effectively conveyed to your team?

I've worked on productions that land on both sides of the line. There's nothing more frustrating than feeling lost because either you can't understand what your director is going for, or they can't. Likewise, when your director can answer questions from a strong central idea, the rest of the process becomes smooth as silk.