The brief synopsis is a man was
standing in front of a simple enough easel that had a poster broken
into 4 quarters, each with an unfinished picture and some type of
rebus puzzle (you've probably seen them before, click
here
for examples of this type of puzzle). Anyway, when I entered the
circle around his performance, there was large painted letters across
the top that said “Can you solve the riddle?” More details about
the plot under “Loose Usage of Linear Narrative.” It was
interactive, involved live painting, writing, discussion, the
unraveling of a story, spectacle, props, costume, and at first glance
looked like some form of guerrilla art.
What follows is a critique of it as
performance art, and then some random quips at the end that I
couldn't resist sharing.
Loose Usage of Linear Narrative
In a structure very similar to “Blues
Clues,” the charismatic host wearing simple colors had a tone that
was a mixture of teacher, big brother, and theatrical monologue. The
title across the top of the painting introduced one big idea,
overriding question (“Can You Solve the Riddle?”) and then the
audience was taken through a set of smaller puzzles, that when their
answers were all put together would answer the big question. This is
the structure of every Blues Clues episode. Ever. The riddle became
“What happened to Harvey?” The answer, which by the 4th
panel (when you had already become invested in finding out the puzzle
regarding how he lived and died by the first three) was blatantly
religious. The first three are a mixture of rebus puzzles and
“guess-what-I'm-drawing” type puzzles. I had fun calling out the
answers while the rest of the audience stared somewhat blankly. They
were about how someone died pretty simply by falling off a boat into
below 0 degrees water and dying. But then the final panel was about
how before he died he had read his bible so he knew there would be
“Life After Death,” (or as the rebus wrote it Death/Life) and was
therefore not afraif. And then he proceeds to write sin in the
middle of that as a barrier which he paints over in black and turns
the black line into a cross on a hill. Cutting edge imagery, right?
Still, his overall use of spectacle and ability to pull in the
interest of people who were mainly walking from somewhere to another
point or grabbing lunch was pretty strong. A big part of that
stemmed from wrapping you up in the concept of a plot and a truth to
be discovered that was hidden subtly in front of you.
Building Off Childhood Memories
Besides the “Blues Clues” like
structure, a structure designed to be the most educational and useful
for pre-school age children (read “The Tipping Point” by Malcolm
Gladwell for a chapter on this) it was circle time, it was painting
in simple colors on an easel, it was interactive story telling to try
and teach a moral/lesson, it was the joy of finding an answer to a
question. He distilled many of the best parts of pre-school, the
first form of education many Americans experience, into an eye
catching street performance that made you stop and watch what you
might otherwise avoid.
Usage of Found Space
If you've walked
down Boylston Street, Boston, on a nice day, you are used to random
people asking you for things: money for the homeless, donations for
random charities, to read their pamphlet and save your immortal soul,
etc. About halfway through watching, when my skeptic side overrode
my watcher side, I noticed the performer had pamphlets tucked in a
box at his feet, but until then he was presenting himself as the
mixture of pre-school teacher, big brother, and monologist. By
presenting himself as something to watch, like human statues, break
dancers, and other Coney Islandesque types might, the
apprehensiveness that an audience (i.e. people walking down the
street) might have to pamphlet wielders was bypassed. He could sneak
his message in by recontextualizing the delivery.
Usage of Color
The painting was
big, bold and simple, with no crossing or mixing of colors. The use
of only yellow, black, blue, red, yellow, and green, avoided showing
colors that were mixtures and hard to define. Everything was simple
and what you thought you saw once it was unraveled. The world
visualized was one of precise and visible truths. His aesthetic rule
was carried on into his outfit, as well as into the clothes of his
young disciples (more on them later).
Audience participation
While elements
of this have been discussed already, I feel it important to point out
that this approach allowed for a welcoming environment, a sense of
audience validation, and let a monologue appear to be a dialogue.
Built in audience
Ever go to a
show with no one in the audience and the whole vibe is off? Of the
maybe ten or so people already enthralled and involved when I got
there, at least half were high school age followers of his. I know
because whenever people left or walked by after the religious nature
of his performance was clear, the teens would try and give them
business sized cards to connect and spread the message that we are
all sinners and must read our bibles daily.
Combination of Image, Text, and
Spectacle
I don't think
they could have worked alone. The image of the crowd and the
paintings caught our eyes. The text relates to reading, the basis of
the bible related message he was trying to pass on, and a way to
catch random passersby up with what was happening, and it drove home
certain points while giving the feeling of reading a story book. The
spectacle made it seem like just another street artist initially and
held our attention throughout.
And When Blatancy Ruins Art
If you're going
to be blatant in an art without saying something new, what is the
point? Besides the fact that passersby who had been giving
interesting peeks switched to guffaws and eye rolls (rarely a desired
audience response) it pushed others away. The charm, the childhood
comfort that was invoked, the sense of a puzzle being explored,
became the rehashing of a cliché and the pushing of an agenda.
Conclusion
Overall, it was
effective at gaining interest, developing conversation, and catching
people with their guards down. But then it became blatant cliché
and agenda and all the fun/joy/puzzlement was ruined.
Quips, in Bullet Point Form!
- The high school students who seemed to be just avid listeners but then turned out to be his helpers felt like a mixture of Manson family meets 90's girl scouts on tye-dye day.
- Really enjoyed counter trolling. Like I used to do in high school with recruiters, I built my responses to his questions around taking away attention, diluting/limiting the message. For example, when he was building up “sin” as this great barrier to eternal life and asked what it means, I replied “according to the old testament, missing the mark.” He responded yes and continued on, but I feel giving it that meaning made it seem less terrible and diluted his case.
- When showing the ten commandments (a sudden prop tucked away, and arguably a mixture of graven image and text) only showed the second tablet. Interestingly did not include the 2nd commandment against making image.
- As I was leaving one of the teens was very insistent on giving me the form. Apparently she thought that because I was answering questions and involved in the conversation I was "hanging off every word of his message." Nope. Definitely just being inquisitive and trolling. Sorry.
Tomorrow: The Alpha and the Megatron.
