Monday, May 31, 2010

Akram Khan's bahok

In Western society, the advancement of technology has been arguably the most significant factor in the development of our current cultural climate. Industrial advances have not only shaped society on a mass scale, but have shaped the role of the individual within it. The physical body is defined by the cultural body; that is, every person in a society shapes their perceptions and presentation of themselves based on social and cultural norms. Thus, in our current, technologically based culture, the body is viewed through the lens of industry. As argued by Nancy Sheper-Hughes and Margaret Lock in The Mindful Body, “…in modern society man has adopted the language of machine to describe his body. This reversal, wherein man sees himself in terms of the external world, as a reflection of himself, is the representative formula for expressing the present situation of modern man.“ The cultural body is defined by our reliance on technology.

Applying this definition of the culturally defined self, I will look at the most recent work by Akram Khan, entitled bahok, in which the idea of the social body is oriented completely around technology. Each individual within the piece is molded by elements of industry which are displayed within the stage space. The presentation of the personal self is completely dictated by social expectations. Those expectations are shaped completely by the impact of technology. In the work, each individual perceives him or herself within the context of our technologically driven world and thus is only able to understand the individual self through this lens. That is, the self can only be exposed after going through the funnel of technology.

The piece opens with the stage in complete darkness, no bodies are visible. The introduction for the viewer to the work is the sound of a mechanized heartbeat, an industrial interpretation of the very center of the human structure. Humanity is immediately redefined by machine. The first lights which the viewer sees are on a large, electronic screen which is hung center stage, clearly being the central focus. While bodies continue not to be seen, the board begins flashing different lights, building shapes and words; the screen is the first dancer that the viewer experiences. As the lights come up on the stage, dancers are frozen, while the electronic board continues to move. It is not until the board flashes a clear directive that the dancers begin to move. Immediately, technology is set up as the definitive element within the piece, that which dictates movement. It is set up as the authoritative structure for the individual dancers – their movement is permitted only after the board has finished its opening solo. The hierarchy of technology to the individual body is evident from the very opening of the work; as argued by Scheper-Hughes and Lock, manual (the body) and mental (technology) labors are divided and ranked, giving industry the upper hand and forcing the self to conform to it

As the dancers begin to move in the space, the juxtaposition of technology and humanity becomes more pronounced. Throughout the movement, all elements of individuality are muted by machines. Most significantly, we see this in the “crazy” character – a young woman clearly lost and unsure of the social expectations of the situation, and thus perceived by others as being crazy. In her opening solo, other dancers avert their gazes, brushing her off as she dances among them. The only interaction which anybody has with her is when another dancer picks up a camera and snaps a picture of her. She can only be looked at in her moment of self exposure through the lens of a camera; that is, others are only able to view this expression of self through an arm of technology. She can only be seen by what is considered socially acceptable and culturally superior.

Indeed, moments of personal expression throughout the piece are expressed only in relationship to technology. One dancer continually returns to his vignette of talking to his mother on his cell phone. Talking to one’s family is a highly individual action, one which relates deeply to personal identity and family roles. In the work, though, he is only able to have this moment of expression through a cell phone, one of the most significant technological advances of the century. He exposes himself only through a machine, a filter which allows the personal body to be exposed in a way considered appropriate by the cultural body. Furthermore, throughout the piece, he repeatedly lifts the cell phone toward the ceiling, an action that almost all viewers can recognize as the search for phone service. It is important to note, though, that the phone is lifted upwards, toward the heavens, a gesture most often symbolic of praise or worship. The cultural body is so deeply defined by that which a society worships; in this moment, technology is physically revered.

One can also see this relationship of self expression and inhibitions of social expectations in the one of the solo vignettes performed by a female dancer. In the technologically driven world which is presented on stage, the dancer is physically lifeless. She is collapsed on a black folding chair underneath the large, electronic board, restricted by her surroundings and the authoritative commands flashing above her. In a moment of isolation from this setting, though – that is, literally as the stage fades to complete darkness – she is transformed into a creature which is other worldly. A goddess like form appears before the viewer, with multiple arms and legs, moving stealthily downstage, an expression of the deep inner self. With the return of full lights, and thus the return of her surroundings, the goddess dissipates and the dancer returns to her folding chair, collapsed and lifeless, waiting as the electronic board has instructed her to do. The brief moment of self is ended by the return of the technological world.

As the piece draws to a close, our focus returns once again to the large electronic board which has dictated the structure of the piece, outlining each vignette with different words and phrases which are frequently seen in airports or other terminals. After watching these moments of individuality being contained by the dictations of cultural expectations, represented through different technological advances, the moments of most personal reflection are brought to the viewer’s attention through the electronic board. After posting expressions such as Delayed, Please Wait, and Canceled throughout the work, the final minutes of the piece are shaped by questions of individual identity: What are you carrying? and What is home?. It is the largest representation of technology which returns the focus of both the dancers and the viewers to their personal selves. Only through the embodiment of the cultural body are we able to perceive our own identity. More so, the irony of a machine presenting issues of individual humanity presents the underlying question – how do humanity and technology coexist? In many ways binaries, this work presents them as inherently dependent; one’s humanity can only be understood through the lens of the cultural body, which has become a lens of technology.

In this work by Akram Khan, the cultural body is defined solely by technology, and thus, the individual is defined by technology. Our bodies are defined by the language of machines. I must ask, then, if we define ourselves according to the language of machines, and define our personal self by this cultural body, where does our humanity lie. Does it too, like our self perception, become molded by the technological lens? Indeed, by defining ourselves through cultural norms, we become, in many ways, mechanical. It is this idea which is put forth in the piece and which shapes the movement and structure of the work. Throughout the work one sees the juxtaposition so evident in our everyday lives, that of the personal body defined by humanity and the cultural body defined by technology, and the physical impact it has on a society.

Sara Kraft's Hyperreal

Sara Kraft’s most recent production Hyperreal, premiered in San Francisco at the Yerba Buena Center for the Performing Arts, deeply explores the question of what is real versus what is imagined in our technologically driven, bigger is better culture through humorous anecdotes, movement, and various characterizations in a way that is intelligent and clever – for forty five minutes too long.

At a running time of nearly two hours, the work spends the first hour and fifteen minutes brilliantly questioning elements of reality, binaries of body and mind, and the impact of technology on physicality and human interactions. Her use of hilarious personal anecdotes not only entertained me, but raised many personal questions about the impact of our current cultural climate. But, as is the downfall for many choreographic works, copious editing was needed. The ideas and points which originally were clever and well stated quickly became after the first hour redundant and irritating.

The opening of the work revealed a young, highly physically trained dancer standing on top of a platform, lights shining up at her, her body replicating a store window mannequin. With her perfectly fit body, and simple nude cloth wrapped around it, she was clearly the representative for the ideal body. Sara Kraft enters the stage opposite the dancer, walking up onto her own platform with a large computer screen and camera, along with a fish bowl filled half way with water. In between the two women hangs a vast projection screen. As Kraft begins her opening monologue, I am immediately drawn into the physical application of the mind/body binary – the mannequin on the one side of the stage, slowly moving in and out of poses, and the mind on the other, using her computer and camera to tell personal stories and raise wide reaching questions. Kraft uses the stage space intelligently, further pushing her question of what is real by physically dividing the body, what is real, and the mind, where the imagination exists.

Perhaps the most engaging for me, though, was the introduction of a twenty nine year old man attempting to make an online dating profile. Sitting at a computer behind the projection screen, he energetically records dozens of messages, all shooting off in tangents from each other, attempting to describe himself as an eligible and desirable date. His acting and dedication to the character was stellar, using a highly comedic effect as he rambled on about his love of nature, being an animal person, and his role as the life of the party. His vignettes were by far the highlight of the work. What Kraft did well here was, again, use of stage space and technology; in placing the young man behind the screen, his face took over the projection screen, forcing the viewer to look first at his projected self before even noticing his actual self behind it, deepening the question of what we perceive as real.

The piece continues to bounce between these different stories, from Kraft’s personal memories, to the dating profile, to brightened lights on the mannequin figure. Kraft uses the stage space, as well as her choice of language and stories, to further her points. That is, she explores the manipulation of reality which she argues is currently happening in our technologically driven world. Telling stories of an old woman who needed a television, radio, and police scanner machine, forcing herself to stay home in order to make sure she never missed anything, or of her childhood experience of watching Jaws and trying to understand how a shark so real in her imagination could be fake, she leads the audience to her point that reality has become more disconnected to real life than imagination has.

Indeed, while she raises interesting and valid points throughout the beginning sections of the work, particularly affective because of her use of humor, these are the same points she continues to raise throughout the entirety of the work. In two hours of performance, I was presented with new ideas for perhaps the first half hour of work, than had the same points reiterated to me over and over again until I no longer cared.

Perhaps the most frustrating section of the work, though, was the ending. As the build up to a climax began to happen, about thirty minutes later than it should have, I was excited to see how Kraft would choice to bookmark her work. With Kraft yelling into a camera, and projections and lights flashing on the screen, the tension in the room began to build. Building and building, a climax of apprehension was reached – and then Kraft continued to yell and lights continued to flash. The ending, which could have been so successful, was pushed for five minutes too long. By the moment of conclusion, my eyes were on the ceiling of the performance space and I no longer had any interest in seeing how the work would end, I just wanted it to end.

Indeed, Kraft’s Hyperreal has true potential to be an exciting and evocative work, exploring fascinating and pertinent ideas that plague our culture everyday. These ideas are overshadowed, though, by her lack of desire to step back from her work and look at it with a critical eye. Had it been an hour shorter, I would be writing about nothing but the brilliance of Sara Kraft. My suggestion then? Go see this piece, but sit by an exit, so that you can leave while the work is still evocative, and not yet irritating.