Othello
Are we human, or are we dancer?
I wanted my last post to reflect on
my theatre experiences overall. The gratitude I felt at the curtain call of
every show reminded me of how great my love for the stage truly is. In this
recognition (see: nostalgia), I was able to dive deeper into questions of
humanity. What are my motivations for doing what I do? What makes me different?
Is what I do considered good? I found these questions applied not only to my
own life, but to the characters I have watched on stage as well.
This being our last show at The
Globe, I noticed something odd about my reactions. While some of the plays did
bring me to tears during the performances, I cried at every single curtain
call. I can’t explain exactly what came over me, but hearing the audience
applaud and cheer for a cast that created something so inventive yet historic
hit me every single time. I’ve really appreciated being able to witness these
famous works as they have translated to a modern stage. I could tell the cast
recognized they were taking part in something much bigger than them, and this
emotion transferred over to me as a mere audience member in Yard Level seating.
The shows reminded me why I continue pursuing the art of performing even when
the bad can outweighs the good.
What struck me about Othello was the choreography. I never pictured so much dancing taking place when I
read the text, so seeing it incorporated into - even being the center of - many
scenes made me feel right at home.
Othello’s
choreographer, Antonia Franceschi, gave an interview where she touched on
the idea of motives.
"It's all about
power-ratios," says Franceschi… “Say you're in a rehearsal and being
screamed at by someone saying: 'Why can't you remember what I asked you to do?
Are you retarded? Do you have your period? Why do you look like shit?', you
don't answer back, you go on till you get it right. Anyone in the real world
would say 'Fuck you'. But as a dancer you do it again because you have no place
else to go. This is it, this is your place. And the reason you put up with it
is for the sake of that one gorgeous moment on stage. On stage nobody can touch
you. On stage you can show your love, your purity, show whatever, and no one
can take advantage."
Franceschi brings up an interesting
difference between “the real world” and the dance world. This word choice is
funny in itself. Nearly every dancer I know will joke about how Normal People
do things, as if we don’t follow the same social rules. And in some ways, we don’t.
We have much more personal relationships with our instructors, we eat almost
constantly, anywhere, there is no where we can’t walk barefoot, and we wear
sweats and long sleeve shirts at any venue, in any weather. The idea of
normalcy is pretty foreign to us. Do normal people not spend seven hours a day locked
in a dark studio, fueled only by coffee and ~art~?
I’ve somehow come to compare my
separation from Normal People to the separation of good and bad in the world of
Othello. In this fictional world, the
line is heavily blurred. Iago plays the role of antagonist, getting the ball
rolling for every tragic event that unfolds in this work. He is representative
of the bad, the devilish, even. However, up until the last act, every other
character sees him as good. Iago is praised for his honesty, even if the
toughest of situations. Othello is our tragic protagonist. He lives an honest
life, treasuring his wife as well as his power. Many people view him as bad,
however. Rodrigo is jealous of his marriage, Desdemona’s father does not
approve of him, and Iago plots his downfall. Once Iago fools him, Amelia sees
him as mad, accusing Desdemona of a crime she did not commit. Of course,
Othello eventually proves criminal, killing his wife for her supposed adultery.
Neither of our characters fit neatly into Good or Bad. Even if their actions
prove one way, their motivation and/or their peers’ perception of their deeds
contradict their status.
Dancers do what they do because of
their environment. They are pushed to a certain point of determination that
allows them to achieve what they set out to achieve, beyond what Normal People
would consider acceptable. Iago and Othello have abstract motivations as well. Iago’s
motives are never crystal clear to us
as an audience, and it is safe to assume that the other characters in Othello do not agree with them. Othello
ultimately does what he believes he must. The other characters see his fault because
they later learn Iago’s crimes, disagreeing still with his actions. The
situations these characters fall into are what drive their actions, even the
horrible ones. As Franceschi says, in a toxic situation, would you snap, “Fuck
you!” or would you have to endure it for that one gorgeous moment of release? Shakespeare
purposefully blurs the lines between good and bad to create a world that is
representative of ours. Even after all this time, we’re still able to relate it
to the present, even as far as to claim the Dance World holds some weight in
the tragedy of Othello.
No comments:
Post a Comment